I listen to David’s words, allowing them to sink into my consciousness. Sometimes you need someone to point out the obvious to put things into perspective. I glance up at the clock and notice that I only have a couple of minutes left. David and I spent the majority of my session discussing coping mechanisms but now it is up to me to prove that I can stand on my own two feet.
“I think we should leave things here, Abby,” David suggests with a broad smile, place his notepad and pen on the table beside him and getting to his feet. I push myself out of my chair and impulsively throw my arms around him.
“Thank you, David,” I say as I disengage. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“It has been my pleasure, Abby,” David responds. “And do let me know when Bean arrives,” he instructs cheerfully. I promise him that I will send him some pictures and then hand him a pastry box that I have been concealing in my bag.
“Lemon meringue cupcakes,” I inform David with a smile. “I hear they are your favourite.”
“Oh, Abby. These look wonderful,” David says taking a sneaky peak at the cakes I painstakingly prepared yesterday.
“They are a new recipe I have been working on. There is candied lemon peel in the meringue on the top and a lemon curd in the middle. I really hope you enjoy them,” I say.
“I’m sure I will. Thank you so much, Abby,” David responds as he walks me to the door.
We say our final goodbyes and as I leave his office, I feel an unexpected sense of freedom. When I walk out into the carpark, I see Taylor still sitting in the car where I left him. As I open the door and slide into my seat, it becomes clear that Taylor is agitated. His hands are gripping tightly to the steering wheel as he listens intently to the voice, one that I don’t recognise, coming over the speaker.
“And you lost him?” Taylor asks seriously, the tension in his jaw making it obvious that this was not what he wanted to hear.
“Unfortunately he gave us the slip, Taylor. Henry has requested that I assemble a second team so that we have more men on the ground,” the voice responds. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I can only assume that they are talking about Richard. Does this mean they have an idea of where he is hiding out?
“Just do whatever it takes, Michael,” Taylor instructs. “I want my brother apprehended and handed back over to the British authorities as soon as possible. My daughter is due in the next couple of weeks and I want this dealt with before she arrives.”
“We are doing our best, Taylor. We will get him, I promise,” Michael says in an even tone as he does his best to reassure Taylor.
“See that you do, Michael,” Taylor says curtly before cutting off the call.
“Richard?” I ask softly.
Taylor rubs the bridge of his nose as he lets out a sigh, agitation written across his features. “Sorry, Abs, I had hoped to be finished with the call before you came out.” I raise my eyebrow and urge him to continue. “A couple days ago Richard was spotted in Marseille in the south of France. Grandmother has a house nearby in Saint Tropez; we think he headed there first as the house looked disturbed when she got one of the neighbours to check on it. Someone spotted him on a bus headed for Marseille and when Henry sent a team out there, they found he had bought a ferry ticket to Algiers. They were supposed to grab him at the port but unfortunately Richard must have seen them and given them the slip. We don’t know whether he has left Europe yet.”
I can see why Taylor is so stressed out but if Richard has made it to Africa who knows where he will be headed. I mean, it’s a bloody huge place. I say this to Taylor hoping to ease his tension but all it does it makes it worse. “Don’t you see, Abs? If Richard is locked up, then I know he can’t get to you. But the thought of him roaming deepest, darkest Africa, even if he is a continent away, means that he still could come after you or Bean. And that terrifies the life out of me.”
“I know what you are getting at, Taylor,” I respond. “But you are doing everything you can to get him back. And so are the police, and now I guess, Interpol?” I say inquiringly and am reassured by Taylor’s nod before continuing, “Everyone is doing their best and that is all we can ask. So now we have to trust that someone will hand him in or maybe he will get eaten by a lion or something,” I joke trying to lighten the mood.
“I know you are right,” Taylor responds with a rueful smile. “Right, enough drama, Abs. I promised you a celebratory lunch so let’s go. I thought we could try this place that one of the guys at work recommended in Littlehampton. It apparently has the most stunning views of the beach.”
I give Taylor smile, “That sounds fab. I’ve never been to Littlehampton before so it will be an adventure. Let’s go.” Taylor gives me a broad grin as he starts the car and we head off.
The Seventh
“There she is,” I cry out as an exhausted-looking Stix walks into Cake. The café is busy but I managed to snag us one of the sofas knowing that Taylor would be bringing her over this afternoon. She sinks down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.
“How did the final exam go?” I ask. “It was chemistry, wasn’t it?”
“My brain is fried, Abs. When am I ever going to need this stuff?” Stix asks wearily. I really feel for her. I always struggled with exams myself, the nerves making me so jittery I would second guess everything I wrote down.
“Probably never,” I say with a chuckle nudging her gently. “But would a milkshake and a slice of cake help?”
Stix cracks open an eyelid and the corners of her mouth turn up, “Yeah, I think that might do the trick.”
At that moment, Bea bustles over to us and pulls Stix into a motherly hug. “All finished, honey?” she asks.
“Yup, Bea. It was a killer one,” Stix says with a sigh.
“Then I know just what you need,” Bea says with a wink as she heads across to the counter. Everyone here knows which are Stix’s favourite comfort food so a few minutes later she returns with a pot of tea for me along with a vanilla milkshake and a slice of chocolate fudge cake for Stix. No sooner has the cake been put down in front of her than Stix is digging in eagerly with a fork.
“So good,” she mumbles as she stops to take a sip of her drink.
“Where’s your brother?” I ask her, wondering where Taylor has gotten to.
“He just popped over to Mum’s to get some bits for me,” Stix responds, a sad expression filling her eyes.
“She still giving you grief?” I ask quietly so that only Stix can hear.
“Yeah,” Stix replies and I sense she wants me to not probe so I drop the subject and instead ask how her other exams went.
After Harold’s will had been read and Gillian lost the plot, Stix ended up staying with her grandmother for the last couple of nights. When Taylor had popped over to his childhood home to collect Stix’s books for her, he had found Gillian destroying the place one room at a time. The desolate look on his face when he told me about it had made me want to weep.
I really feel for Stix. It is a wonder that she has managed to get through her exams with everything that has been going on. Until Richard’s arrest Stix had been staying with us, but after Harold’s first heart attack she had opted to move back home to be with her mother. Despite everything that has gone on, Stix still loves her parents in the way only a child can and so she wanted to be there for Gillian. But I think this latest turn of events has made everything pretty much moot. Yesterday, Taylor made the decision that Stix would come live with us until things have settled down, something I think Stix had been too afraid to ask for.
We chill for a while and I begin to get a little concerned when Taylor doesn’t return. He’s a big boy, I reason to myself, so I’m sure he can handle whatever Gillian will have thrown at him. When I have drunk the last dregs of my tea, I suggest we head upstairs so that Stix can get changed out of her school uniform.
“It feels so weird to think that I never have to wear this horrible old itchy skirt ever again,” she says with a laug
h. “Or this fusty old blazer.”
“Well, I guess wool comes as standard when you go to a posh private school,” I joke. “Leaves the polyester for the common folk.” Stix chuckles at my joke as we reach the top of the stairs. “Everything is where you left it from the last time you stayed. There are some clothes is the wardrobe that you left so you should have something to wear until Taylor gets here with the rest of your stuff.”
“Thanks, Abs. You’re the best,” Stix responds as she wraps her arms around me in an impromptu hug.
“I have my final masterclass this evening so if you fancy joining in, I’ll be heading down once the café closes to set up,” I say over my shoulder as I head across the living room to my office.
“That sounds awesome, Abs. I’d love to join in. Thanks!” she calls back, disappearing down the corridor to her room.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and when I whip it out, I realise I have several missed calls and a voicemail from Taylor. As I dial my inbox, I can’t help the shiver of trepidation that runs down my spine. A remarkably bland-sounding Taylor tells me that he has been held up by a few things and that he will be home as soon as he can. Oh, and Michelle will be popping over with a few things for Stix this evening. Okay, that has my curiosity piqued. I get the impression that something quite major has happened and Taylor is trying to deal with it alone without cluing me in as usual.
I have enough on my plate so I send Michelle a text asking her if she wants to join in the masterclass, knowing that I can grill her when she arrives. It takes several minutes before my phone buzzes and I grin when I see her flippant response:
Sure, let’s burn some shit tonight! ;-)
I sit down my computer and begin sorting out all the details for this evening. I print off a couple more recipe cards and information sheets, along with a register of my participants. My small class of eight has now grown to a reasonable ten people and the time seems to fly by as I double and triple-check the details for tonight. My baby-brain seems to be off-the-charts crazy at the moment and if I don’t have everything written down it just flies out my head. It’s only when Stix pops her head through the entrance and asks if I want her to head down to help set up that I realise it is already six-thirty p.m. and I best get a wriggle on.
It only takes half an hour to get the café transformed. Chairs are moved to the side and tables are rearranged to create eleven workstations complete with mixers, bowls, utensils and everything needed to make the baked cheesecakes I have planned for tonight. Despite the busy day everyone has already had, Alison, Billy and Kiri have all insisted on staying behind to help and clear up afterwards. Once again I am reminded of the amazing people I work with; they truly are no longer employees but friends all the way.
The last of my paying participants has just arrived when I hear a squeal. With a start, I realise the sound has come from Stix as she rushes across to where Michelle is standing in the entrance. “Miche, Abs never said you were coming tonight,” Stix cries out with a grin.
“That’s ‘cause it was all a bit last minute, chicca-dee,” Michelle responds giving her a squeeze. I give them a few minutes to catch up and turn to the rest of the class who are all waiting patiently for me to begin.
This is the fourth and final masterclass since I started doing them last month. I had been astounded by the positive response when I had posted the classes online and in only a few days I had completely sold out my allocated spaces. Some people booked the whole course while others had just booked onto a couple of dates featuring dishes that they wanted to learn how to bake. Even my junior courses were a hit and I am hoping Stix will want to do the series for under-fives in the summer holidays with me.
Michelle and Stix quickly take their spots and I begin explaining what we are going to be doing this evening. I take in the sea of excited faces and feel my own sense of eagerness welling up inside of me. A few minutes later everyone gets going. Some people pour over the instructions longer than others but soon the air is filled with chatter and the whirr of machines.
It is only a couple of hours later as we are finishing up that I realise there has been no sign of Taylor. I don’t have a moment to wonder about what could be delaying him, however, as everyone begins to tidy up their workstations and then head home with their various creations. It has been another successful evening and despite my exhaustion I feel a real sense of exhilaration. It took a long time for David to get me to realise what I wanted to do with my life, but I am finally there; once Bean is born and I have things under some semblance of control I will be getting straight back into teaching my classes.
Once the door is finally locked, we all work together quickly to pack things away and get the café ready for tomorrow morning. We finally bid everyone goodnight and then Michelle, Stix and I climb the stairs to the flat.
“Oops, I forgot to get the stuff in from the car,” Michelle murmurs in my ear and motions that she is heading back outside. Slightly perplexed I leave her to it and traipse wearily across to the kitchen where I flick the kettle on for a cup of tea. My back and feet are killing me so I rub my fists into the small of my back and shift onto the balls of my feet as I try to relieve the pressure.
A moment later I hear voices and am grateful when I see Taylor’s head emerge alongside Michelle as they come up the stairs. I give them a quizzical look when I see them laden down with yellow Selfridges bags but Taylor just gives me a tired smile and asks where Stix is.
“She headed straight for the shower. Your sister was covered in cheesecake mix,” I explain with a snort. I have never known a messier cook than Stix; how she managed to get mix down the back of her top is beyond me! As I tell this to Taylor, he lets out a snort of mirth as well before motioning Michelle to follow him with the bags towards Stix’s room. Curiouser and curiouser, I think to myself feeling a little like Alice in Wonderland with all these mysterious goings-on.
The kettle boils and I pull down the pot, chucking in a couple of bags and then adding the water. Not correct tea-making etiquette I know, but I am just about dead on my feet and all I want to do is sit down. Taylor and Michelle emerge a couple of seconds later and I ask if they want some tea. Taylor insists that I sit down and he finishes off pouring the steaming liquid into mugs and then bringing them across to us.
“Your wife is an amazing teacher,” Michelle comments to Taylor as he hands her a mug. “I actually managed to make something that was not burnt and actually edible.”
Taylor gives her grin. “Yeah, she is pretty incredible,” he responds before settling down on the sofa and pulling my feet up into his lap. I note the tight lines around his mouth and the dark circles underneath his eyes; if it’s possible, Taylor seems even more exhausted than I am. He begins to massage my feet and I can’t help the groan of sheer relief that escapes me.
Before I can say anything though I hear a loud squeal and then Stix comes rushing through wrapped in a towel. “What the hell, Tay?” she asks. “Seriously, is that all for me?”
“Can’t a big brother spoil his little sister?” Taylor responds. “Especially after she has worked so hard for her exams.”
Stix looks at Taylor for a moment, her eyes narrowed as she turns something over in her mind. “What did she do, Tay?” Clearly she suspects that this is not just a kind gesture.
“Nothing for you to worry about, Stix,” Taylor says with a sigh but even I can tell he is lying.
“Well, she obviously did something that has meant you’ve had to replace to replace pretty much my entire wardrobe. Taylor, what the hell did she do?” Stix’s voice sounds weary despite her demand.
“Language!” Taylor responds but it’s less of a reprimand and more of a reflex. Taylor closes his eyes for second as he contemplates what to say next.
“Stix,” Taylor says with a sigh. “Um, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you this. Shit, you’re just a kid, you shouldn’t have to deal with all of this.”
“Spit it out, Tay,” Stix responds, her hands on her hips and
an ancient expression in her eyes that is at odds with her youthful countenance.
“I had to have Mother committed tonight,” Taylor says, his voice barely above a whisper. We let out a collective gasp and I can only imagine what fresh hell Taylor has been through today.
“Right?” Stix urges him to continue, her eyes narrowed as she stares Taylor out.
“When I got to this house this afternoon after dropping you here, I found it locked up tight which I thought was a bit odd. I still had my key so I let myself in thinking I would just grab your stuff and get out. But when I got inside I realised something was wrong. When I had gone over to the house after the reading of the will, I found her smashing up the place. I had been so angry with how she had reacted I blew up at her and told her she deserved everything that she got. I said some really nasty stuff, Stix.” Taylor’s face is ashen and I can’t help the feeling of dread pooling in my stomach.
“What did she do, Tay?” Stix asks, the apprehension filling her voice.
“After I left that first time, Mother must have gone through the entire house destroying everything, and I mean everything, Stix. Every single breakable item in the house had been smashed. Clothes, cushions, even the bedding had been ripped to pieces. I can’t even imagine the rage that must have consumed her to be capable of doing such a thing.
“At first I thought she had left the house but then I heard her crying. I found her curled up in the corner of her bedroom. I tried talking to her but it was like she couldn’t even see or hear me. I sat with her for over an hour attempting to reason with her, make her see me, but she just went quiet. I ended up calling David and he came across to assess her. We both felt that because she was not responding the only option was to have her committed.” Taylor clenches his fists and I can feel the guilt and anger rolling off him.
Book Four: Thirty Days, Book 4 Page 5
