When Cassie thought of Jacqui she always imagined uncertainty, precariousness. She visualized a life teetering on a fragile balance—between money and poverty, drugs and rehab, boyfriends and abusers, who knew the details? The more uncertain Jacqui’s life was, the harder it would be for her to make contact with family she’d left long ago. Perhaps her circumstances didn’t allow it, or she was ashamed of the situation she was in. She might be spending weeks and months on the road or off the grid, high out of her mind, or begging for food, or who knew what?
Cassie decided she was going to have faith, and take the chance this was Jacqui reaching out.
Quickly, knowing that Ryan might turn off the Wi-Fi at any moment, she messaged Renee back.
“It could be my sister. If she calls again, please give her my number.”
Hoping that her hunch was right, Cassie closed her eyes, feeling she’d done what she could to reestablish contact with the only family she still cared about.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next morning was organized chaos, as Cassie tried to help the children dress for school. School uniform items were missing, shoes were muddy, socks were mismatched. She found herself running back and forth between the kitchen and the bedrooms, juggling breakfast with everything else.
The children wolfed down tea, toast, and jam before resuming the search for school items that seemed to have migrated to an alternate universe over the weekend.
“I’ve lost my badge!” Madison announced, pulling on her blazer.
“What does it look like?” Cassie asked, her heart sinking. She’d thought that they were finally done.
“It’s round in shape and bright green. I can’t go to school without it, I was last week’s class captain and someone else has to get the button today.”
In a flat panic, Cassie got on her hands and knees and searched the whole room, eventually finding the badge on the closet floor.
After this crisis had been averted, Dylan shouted that his pencil case had vanished. It was only after the children had left that Cassie found it behind the rabbit’s cage, and rushed down the road to the bus stop where they were waiting.
When they’d safely boarded the bus, she took a deep breath, and the happy thoughts from the previous night bubbled up inside her again.
As she tidied the house, she replayed the interaction between her and Ryan in her head.
He’d been flirting, she was certain of it.
The way he’d touched her, taken her hand, asked her if she had a boyfriend. That on its own was an innocent enough question, but it was what else he’d said.
“It’s wrong of me not to make sure.”
That indicated he was asking for a reason. Making sure.
And that kiss. She closed her eyes as she thought of it, feeling warmth bloom inside her. It had been so unexpected, so perfect.
It had felt friendly, but as if he might have meant more by it. It was impossible to say. She felt filled with uncertainty, but in a positive way.
The morning flew by and since Ryan had said he would be arriving home late, she decided to get a start on supper. She had a very limited repertoire of dishes, but there was a kitchen shelf full of recipe books.
Cassie chose the one on family dinners. She’d assumed it was Ryan’s book but was surprised to find a handwritten message on the first page—Happy Birthday Trish.
So this was Trish’s book. It must have been gifted to her by a friend; perhaps a friend who didn’t realize Ryan did most of the cooking. At any rate, she hadn’t taken it with her.
Cassie’s thoughts were interrupted by a loud knocking on the front door.
She hurried to answer it.
A man in black leathers was standing outside. A large motorbike was parked on the sidewalk behind him.
As soon as Cassie opened the door, he stepped forward so he was halfway in, and very much in her space. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark spiky hair and a mustache. She sensed a low level of aggression in the way he pushed inside and his expression as he looked down at her.
She stepped back, flustered by his invading presence. She wished she had put the inside chain on the door before opening it, but she hadn’t thought it necessary in this small, quiet village.
“This the Ellis residence?” the man asked.
“Yes, it is,” Cassie said, wondering what this was all about.
“Mr. Ryan Ellis in today?”
“No, he’s at work. Can I help you?”
Cassie was panicking inwardly. For her own safety, she should have said Ryan had gone next door for a minute. She didn’t know who this man was. He was pushy and entitled, and this was not how a delivery person would interact with a customer.
“And you are?” The man smiled slightly, leaning a hand on the doorframe.
“I’m the au pair,” Cassie said defensively, remembering too late she should have said she was a family friend.
“Ah, so he’s hired you? He’s paying you, eh? Where you from? The States?”
Cassie felt breathless. She hadn’t expected this at all, and thought immediately of the deported waitress that the tearoom manager had spoken about yesterday.
She didn’t answer him. Instead, she repeated, “How can I help you?”
She hoped he couldn’t sense how frightened he was.
“I’ve got a special delivery for Mr. Ryan Ellis.”
The man handed her a large manila envelope with Ryan’s name and address handwritten on it.
She placed it on the hall table and he passed her a clipboard.
“Sign here. Your full name, time of delivery, and your phone number.”
So it was just a delivery after all. Cassie felt relieved, but she wasn’t going to relax until this creepy guy was out of the door.
“And your passport, please.”
“My what?”
She stared at him in horror.
“I have to photograph it. If you don’t mind.”
His tone of voice told her that he didn’t care if she minded. He leaned against the wall and checked his watch.
Cassie felt thoroughly flustered. What was this all about? She dreaded it was some sort of illegal worker clampdown.
She couldn’t tell him to get out, although she wanted to. Was photographing this document even legal, or an infringement of her rights? It felt like an attempt at intimidation, but she couldn’t think of a way out without landing herself in even bigger trouble.
“Would you wait outside while I fetch it?” she asked.
He took his time moving onto the porch. Arms folded and that half smile on his round, pale face, he stood and watched.
She closed the front door, wishing she didn’t have to open it again, and rushed to her bedroom to get her passport, with its incriminating visitor’s visa.
Then she went back, opened the door, and handed it to him.
In the meantime he’d lit a cigarette. Placing it between his lips, he took his phone out and flipped through the document’s pages.
She heard the repetitive click of the phone camera. It looked like he was photographing more than one page.
Then he handed it back and took the cigarette out of his mouth.
“Righto. That’s it. Tell Mr. Ellis I’ll be back soon if the notice is not attended to.”
He flicked his smoldering cigarette butt onto the paving, turned away, and strode back to his bike. A minute later, the engine roared and he was gone.
On her hands and knees, Cassie scrabbled to pick up the burning cigarette. She stubbed it out on the damp grass and took the butt to the kitchen, where she threw it away. Her hands were shaking. What had that been about?
She stared at the envelope, held it up to the light, and even turned it over to see if there was any hint as to the sender’s identity, but she could see nothing.
She would have to wait until Ryan got home and tell him about it.
Cassie began to fear that through her presence here, and Ryan’s accommodating kindness, she’d landed him in serious trouble.
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CHAPTER NINE
When it was time to fetch the children from school, Cassie did her best to put her worries aside. With the recent divorce, she knew the children had their own stress to deal with, and she didn’t want them to sense her anxiety on top of it all.
Both were waiting at the school gate, and Madison in particular seemed pleased to see her. On the scenic drive home, the young girl talked nonstop about the day’s lessons, which were boring, and math was getting too difficult, and the sport—they’d gone for a cross-country fun run which she’d enjoyed. Cassie found herself smiling, momentarily distracted by the girl’s cheery comments.
The children made short work of the sandwiches she’d made, devouring them in a few minutes before heading purposefully out of the kitchen.
Cassie tidied away lunch and spent a while longer in the kitchen, trying to focus on the food preparation and not worry about what was inside the envelope on the hall table, or what Ryan’s reaction might be when he came home.
It suddenly occurred to her that the house was very quiet.
“Dylan?” she called. “Madison?”
There was no answer.
Anxiety clenched her stomach, like an unwelcome guest who’d been temporarily banished but was waiting to return.
Cassie left the kitchen and checked their rooms. They weren’t there, so she headed out to the backyard, noticing that the chilly wind had dropped.
Dylan, dressed in blue jeans and a red parka, was on the far side of the grassy slope, standing on the bluff that overlooked the ocean. He had his back to the sea and was messaging on his phone. It looked as if he was on the very edge, and there was no rail, only a sheer drop down sandstone cliffs to the gray waters below.
“Dylan, do you mind moving away from there?” she called.
He looked up curiously.
“If you’re texting, don’t go too near the edge,” she explained. “You’re distracted. You could fall over, and sandstone crumbles.”
“Oh. OK.”
He moved a step further in.
“Where’s Madison?”
He shrugged.
“I dunno. I’ve just come out here. I’ve been messaging my mate.”
Dylan lowered his head and turned his full attention back to his phone.
But Cassie had spotted something nearby. She headed to the bluff to see what it was.
A pink sneaker lay on the grass near the cliff’s edge. Where was the other one? And where was Madison?
Cassie felt panic rising inside her, so sharp and sudden it seemed to choke her.
She hurried to the edge of the cliff.
Once there, she forced herself to take a moment to collect her thoughts and make sure she was on steady footing. If the steep drop triggered another flashback to the horrors she’d seen while in France, there would be nobody to help her.
Carefully, she peered over.
Far below, on the rocks, she saw a flash of pink.
Looking more closely, she confirmed, to her horror, that it was the other shoe.
“Madison!” she screamed, so loud that Dylan’s head jerked up from his messaging in alarm.
“Madison, where are you?”
She felt a rush of panic and staggered back from the dizzying drop.
“Dylan, she’s down there. I can see her shoe. She must have fallen.”
Cassie clapped her hands over her mouth to smother her sobs. Self-recrimination crushed her. She’d been so preoccupied that she hadn’t thought to check on the children. She’d been neglectful and irresponsible, focusing on less important matters instead of properly caring for the children, and in one terrible moment a catastrophe had occurred.
Had Madison fallen? Had the two of them fought and Dylan pushed her? Had she been trying to do gymnastics, or acrobatics, too close to the edge?
She felt sick with guilt as she wondered whether she could have prevented the accident if she’d bothered to check on them earlier.
“How do we get down there?”
Cassie shouted the question in a high, shrill voice, frantically considering what emergency action she should take and what the likelihood would be of surviving such a fall. The rocks looked lethally sharp, and Madison must have been washed out to sea, because there was no sign of her apart from the terrible sight of that one lonely shoe.
In a flash, Cassie realized that the fragile sense of security she’d achieved with this family was only a flimsy veneer covering the deep wounds that festered inside her. Now that veneer had been ripped away and exposed her for what she really was.
How could she ever have thought she was suitable to look after children? She was incompetent, unreliable, and the baggage she carried with her was going to prevent her from ever making a success of her life.
“Dylan, quick. Pass me your phone. What’s the emergency services number?”
As Cassie spoke, Dylan started to laugh.
For a moment she stared at him, shocked beyond words at his reaction.
Then she followed his gaze to see Madison emerging from the garage side door, holding wads of crumpled up newspaper in her hands.
She walked a few steps away from the door and then stared down at the grass, frowning.
“Where have my shoes gone?” she asked.
For a moment, Cassie couldn’t speak. A storm of emotion was raging in her head.
Then she managed to get the words out.
“Dylan, what happened here?” Her voice was still hoarse with tension, but she hoped it was loud enough to be authoritative.
“I moved your shoes. One of them fell off the edge,” Dylan said to Madison.
“What? Over the cliff? Dylan, those are my favorite trainers! Go fetch it, now.”
“He can’t—” Cassie began, but Dylan interrupted.
“It’s on the rocks. The tide’s on the way out. I’ll walk there in half an hour.” He looked at Cassie. “There’s a path that goes down.”
“Why did you do that?” Madison still sounded angry. “I washed them because they were muddy after the run. I brought the newspaper to put inside so they would dry, like Dad taught us to do. And now you moved them and the one will be all dirty again.”
“I thought it would be a game. I didn’t mean for it to fall over.”
Cassie cleared her throat.
“Madison could have fallen while fetching the shoe. You could even have slipped off the edge while putting it there. Dylan, that was a nasty thing to do.”
He stared at her calmly.
“Neither of us have vertigo,” he said.
The word hit Cassie like a slap in the face. It dragged her straight back to the moment when she’d looked over the balcony with Ryan.
Dylan knew what had happened. The way he’d said it told her so. He must have been passing by the family room at the time and seen them outside. Now he was using the word intentionally to show her that he knew, and this put a different spin on his behavior.
Cassie suspected that this was some sort of revenge move.
Dylan was getting Madison, or herself, or both of them, back for something, and she was sure it was because of what had taken place in town. They had criticized him, accused him of theft. He hadn’t shown much emotion at the time but their words must have stung, and now he was retaliating.
Fury surged inside her and she knew was about to lose it. She was going to scream at him, let rip with the most vicious, hurtful things she could think of, to try and break through his nonchalant shell and force him to feel the same pain she was feeling now.
She almost did it, she almost couldn’t stop herself, and she saw from his wary expression that he was expecting it.
At the very last moment, she paused.
Was she screaming because she felt angry at him? Or was she angry at herself, for having been so wrapped up in what she was doing that she hadn’t checked on the children?
It would be unfair to make Dylan the target when she was the one to blame.
Dylan’s behavior was
troubling, and a little scary, but it hadn’t been malicious. It had been a mean joke, that was all; his way of showing her how clever he was, and how sensitive, too.
She remembered his words, defensive and ever so slightly threatening.
“You’re with me or you’re against me.”
Instead of shouting, she kept her voice calm as she spoke.
“It’s no problem, Dylan. I’ll walk down the path with you as soon as the tide’s far enough out, and we will rescue Madison’s shoe. Deal?”
Dylan looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected this response from her at all and hadn’t thought about how to handle it.
“Deal,” he said hesitantly, and Cassie knew with a surge of relief that she’d made the right call.
*
The path down to the sea was a few hundred yards away, in a place where the cliff face was less sheer. Cassie had worried that it might be dangerous, but although it was steep and stony, the winding trail was not risky to negotiate.
Once she and Dylan were at the bottom, they walked single file along the exposed section of narrow, stony beach.
“When the tide’s in, this is completely covered,” Dylan called to her. “The sea breaks onto the cliffs, basically.”
It was freezing cold down here and the spray from the waves was shocking but exhilarating. Cassie guessed that on a windy day, you’d be drenched just walking alongside the sea.
“There you are.”
The pink trainer was lying on a rock and Dylan picked his way between the sharp boulders to collect it. He handed it to Cassie and they hurried back, scrunching over the pebbled beach and scrambling up the path again.
Cassie realized the good weather was passing by, and she was glad they’d managed to get the shoe when they had. The afternoon was clouding over and the wind was starting up again, icy and strong and blowing from the north.
When she checked on Madison, she found she was in her bedroom, doing a puzzle on a tray. Dylan headed into the dining room with a book and sprawled down onto the bean bag in the corner.
Cassie stuffed both the shoes with newspaper and set them near the radiator in the laundry to dry.
Almost Lost Page 7
