by Linda Huber
Amanda was sitting with both hands encircling her mug, fingers tapping against the blue and white stripes. Ella searched for something to say; not so easy when circumstances had thrown the two of them into a closer relationship than either of them was ready for.
It was a relief when the doorbell rang and Owen’s voice called, ‘Anyone home? You’ve left the front door open!’
Ella went out to the hallway. ‘Owen – come in. Thanks – I’m all over the place today. This is Amanda, Jaden’s mum.’
He joined them at the table and accepted Ella’s offer of coffee. ‘I’m not surprised you’re stressed – you’ve had a terrible time. How’s your mother?’
‘Not great. She’s with her cousin in Helston. And Rick’s, um, taken Soraya away for a day or two, I’m expecting them back today but…’ Ella pressed her lips together, blinking hard and feeling Owen’s gaze. She would burst into tears if she said another word here. It was terrifying to have such a frail hold on her self-control.
‘He’ll be back soon,’ said Amanda, but she didn’t sound convincing.
Owen moved in his chair and Ella glanced up to see him frown. ‘Ella, I suppose he’s okay after Monday? I wasn’t at home, but Mum saw Rick support your father out of the shed and she told me later how he’d cracked his head and then fallen.’
Ella froze. It was one of those moments when the world seems to stop for an instant before continuing in a different spiral. Rick and Dad were in the shed… but Rick said he’d seen her father collapse on the grass…
Owen was looking at her, waiting for an answer.
‘I didn’t know anything about the shed – but he’s been weird about it for weeks. I didn’t know he’d been hurt. Oh no…’
A picture of Rick in the garden that day slid into Ella’s mind. He’d banged on the kitchen door and when she opened it her father was face down on the path and Rick said, ‘He was stumbling over the grass…’
Why would Rick lie about where he’d found her father? Come to that, what was Rick doing in the shed at all? Dad had been hacking out concrete, Rick must have come here and gone straight to the shed. What an odd thing to do. Something was just very wrong here. Owen and Amanda were staring, Amanda’s face apprehensive while Owen’s was thoughtful.
‘You look dazed, Ella. Tell me what I can do to help.’
Ella clasped trembling fingers round her mug and met his eyes. He was trained to deal with people in weird situations – he must be able to see her fear and pain. If anyone could advise her, he could.
‘I’m giving Rick till three to come back,’ she said in a low voice. ‘If he doesn’t… I might need help then.’
‘And you last spoke to him…?’ It was the policeman sitting opposite her now.
‘Yesterday. He sounded – all right.’
‘So there’s no reason to think he might be ill in any way?’
Ella stared. Actually, there wasn’t. Rick was punishing her for wanting to be Soraya’s mum and live in this house, but that didn’t count as ‘ill’.
‘He’s upset and being awkward, that’s all. Men, huh?’
He gave her a sharp look, then rose to his feet. ‘Okay. Let me know, then. Thanks for the coffee.’
Ella took him to the door and returned to find Amanda putting the mugs in the dishwasher.
‘Ella, is Owen a…?’
‘Policeman. You can tell, can’t you? He works in Newquay but he’s on leave until mid-August. I only hope I don’t need his professional help.’ Ella struggled to stifle a yawn; she couldn’t remember when she’d last felt so exhausted.
Amanda closed the dishwasher. ‘I’ll be off too. I’m sure Rick’ll be back soon, Ella. Give me a ring if you need any more shopping.’
She hurried off, leaving Ella alone once again in the silence of an empty house. She checked her phone, but no answering text from Rick had appeared. This was every bit as bad as waiting at the hospital, helpless as they tried to save her father. And oh, was Soraya afraid? The child must know something wasn’t right. Poor little soul. It might have been better for Soraya if they’d never played racing cars that day at the adoption party. Hot tears gathered in Ella’s eyes and her throat closed. How were they to get out of this mess?
She booted up the laptop to check her emails. Two spam mails, a bill, and – an email from the school she’d applied to, for the secretarial job. She’d cancelled yesterday’s interview, of course, pleading a death in the family.
It was a date for another interview, this coming Wednesday. Well. At least they were interested in her application. Ella jotted the details on a note and stuck it to the fridge, new determination filling her. She would find a job and she would get her daughter back and no matter what happened to her marriage, she would do her damnedest to adopt Soraya. But before she did any of that she’d go and have a good poke in the shed, see if she could find out why Rick went there on Monday and then lied about it. He could go to hell. She wasn’t going to let him bully her any longer.
The shed was messy; no one – of course – had done anything more about Steve’s concrete-removing work. Ella stood in the doorway. She hadn’t been in here since before her father’s death, and how odd; the wooden slabs were back on top of the concrete, inches higher than they had been, turning the shed floor into a two-level affair. The wheelbarrow on the low side was half full of mud and chunks of concrete. Possibly Dad had finished his job and tried to replace the floor before feeling unwell? Ella stamped, feeling instability beneath her foot. The slabs were a metre by two metres and were supposed to slot into each other, but two of them were wobbly and uneven, unattached to the next. Had Dad rushed the job at the end, realising there was something wrong?
Ella crouched on one of the non-wobbly slabs and pressed on its neighbour. One end lifted, and she grabbed it and heaved the slab on its side. Well. Here was part of the answer; Dad hadn’t nearly finished. The central mass of concrete was still intact, though the edges had been lifted all the way round. Dad must have got fed up chipping it away. She dropped the slab and it banged back into position. Someone would have to fix that one day, but not her and definitely not today. Ella glanced at her watch. Half past two. Half an hour and then she would do – what?
Chapter Two
Friday 1st August
‘This is the wrong way! You said we were going home to Mummy!’
Soraya unclicked her seat belt and Rick slowed down, frustration mingling with fear as the child stood up in the back seat.
‘Sit down! We’re not going the wrong way – you don’t know all the roads around here. This is a better way.’
Soraya sat, but not in her car seat and Rick pulled over as soon as he had the chance. She was right, of course. They were on the A30 heading north-east, and they’d passed the exit for St Ives. He undid his own belt and twisted round to the child in the back. Her face was desperate and Rick searched for something to keep her quiet.
‘We – we’re going to the place you bought Mummy the weather house first. Remember?’
‘And then we’re going home?’
‘Yes. But we’re not moving until you’re back in your seat.’
She shifted immediately, and Rick leaned back to make sure she was strapped in, avoiding eye contact. He had no idea what he was doing – he’d intended going back to Ella, but as soon as the road sign for St Ives loomed over the car he’d realised he couldn’t cope with a confrontation with his wife. Not yet, not today, maybe not ever. There would be messages from both Ella and Amanda on his phone when he switched it on, and God help him, he didn’t know what to do. Something was different today; he felt different. Heavier.
The service station was busy with people having lunch. As well as the shop and a small restaurant there was a snack bar where a crowd of noisy bikers were hanging out eating burgers. Soraya’s eyes were wide as she gazed round, and her lower lip was trembling. Rick grasped her hand.
‘What would you like for lunch?’
‘I want to go home for my lun
ch.’ It was a frightened, peevish little whisper and it made Rick see red. Everyone, even this child who was nothing to do with him, was against him today.
‘We’re not going home yet. You can choose something here or you can go hungry.’
Soraya burst into noisy tears and he jumped in fright then stretched a hand towards her. She jerked away and ran towards the door.
‘I want to go home to my Mummy! I don’t want to be with you anymore.’
The bikers and the snack bar personnel were staring and to Rick’s horror and embarrassment, silence fell. He wiped his face with one hand and went after Soraya, but a woman ran out from behind the snack bar and reached the girl first.
‘Can I help you, sweetheart? Where’s your Mummy?’ She took Soraya’s hand.
Tears trickled down Soraya’s face, and Rick was suddenly and painfully aware of how unkempt she looked. He hadn’t combed her hair that morning, and her t-shirt had more than a trace of last night’s dinner down the front.
When sniffs and sobs were the only answer the woman tried again. ‘Can you tell me where you live, darling?’
Rick found his voice. ‘Please. It’s all right. She’s upset, we’ve had a death in the family – my wife’s father. It hasn’t been easy for her, has it, Soraya?’
‘Is that your name, lovey?’ A nod. ‘And is this your daddy?’ A stare. The woman turned to Rick, her expression neutral. ‘Can you prove you’re Soraya’s father, sir?’
Two of the bikers had approached and were standing behind the woman, and Rick began to shake. They were ready to intervene if he made a run for it. For a second his mind went blank, then he pulled out his wallet. Bless Ella, she had saved the day. The photo of the three of them she’d put in his wallet was a laughing family group, Soraya in the middle with a large ice cream. He thrust it into the woman’s hand and her face relaxed.
‘What a lovely photo! Is this your mum, sweetheart?’
This time, she got an answer. ‘That’s me and my mum… and my dad and I want to go home now.’
Rick put his hand on her head, and thankfully this time she didn’t pull away. ‘We will go home, Soraya. But Mummy needs to get things sorted first. How about some lunch?’
‘We can do you a lovely cheeseburger with chips?’ said the woman. ‘On the house. How about that?’
Tears spilled down Soraya’s cheeks, and Rick could have shaken her.
‘I wanted to go to my mummy for a long time,’ she whispered, and the woman hugged her.
‘I’m sure Daddy’ll take you as soon as Mummy’s ready for you, sweetie. Come and have some lunch.’
Soraya allowed the woman to lead her back to the snack bar and sit her on a high stool. Rick perched beside her; at least the goddamn meal was free. It was all he could be glad about here. Soraya picked listlessly at her burger, gazing at the woman, who came by every couple of minutes to make sure everything was all right. The bikers left, leaving the snack bar almost deserted, which made Soraya’s non-replies to Rick’s remarks more obvious. He could cheerfully have throttled her, and the tight band round his head was getting tighter by the minute. He ordered a double espresso and swallowed two paracetamol along with it, but by the time they left Rick felt as if he’d run to Land’s End and back. He settled Soraya into the car and got behind the wheel.
And now what? All he knew was he couldn’t go home. He needed to have a good think first, about Ella and Amanda and Steve and Gareth and the shed… He needed things clear in his head before he confronted Ella. She would go all teacher-ish with him; the very thought was making him see red. Maybe he should check his phone, see what she was thinking… and like he’d thought, there were messages galore here. She was obsessed and so was Amanda. He deleted them without reading any – a little more time to worry about her daughter would make it all the more likely that Ella would agree with whatever he suggested. He twisted round to talk to Soraya.
‘Okay. Mummy texted and there’s a new plan. Remember the place we went to in Newquay and Mummy came to get you?’ That was clever, he thought. Of course she’d remember and it was a very positive image to give her, wasn’t it? Soraya nodded. ‘We’re going back there now, and Mummy’ll be along later. Okay?’
Soraya blinked at him, her lips pressed together. Ignoring the tension in his head, Rick started the car.
The B&B had a room for them, but it was much smaller than the one they’d had last time and again there was no en suite. Misery welled up inside Rick but he booked them in and led Soraya upstairs. She had slept in the car but was wide awake again and all he could think of to keep her occupied was to go to the beach. He sat on a towel while she splashed about in shallow water. A dark cloud of dreariness settled over him as he watched her, but it wasn’t long before another little girl appeared and made friends with Soraya. Rick lay back and closed his eyes – the other child’s mother was there with the girls.
What was he going to do about Ella and the house and Gareth? The three went together. He would call Ella later and tell her he’d give Soraya back if she left the house. She could maybe even stay here in the B&B until they found a flat. That way, he could plan how to remove Gareth, because that had turned into an absolute necessity. With Gareth gone he could get someone in to fix the shed floor and everything would be back to normal. And of course –
Joy and relief broke over Rick as the solution to the entire problem flashed into his head. What had he been thinking of? No one needed to find flats and move out. With Gareth gone, Ella and Soraya could go back into the house and it would all be sorted. He wouldn’t need more than a week. Could he persuade Ella to take a little holiday?
Whatever happened with the house, though, his future would still be with Amanda. And the baby. But that would sort itself automatically once he had the Gareth situation under control. He would call when they were back in the B&B, tell Ella to come and collect Soraya. Yes.
It was going to be all right… Rick rubbed his head. He was so tired it was hard to keep his eyes in focus, and disjointed thoughts of Ella and her parents were filling his head. Steve… what was it with Steve? Oh yes, he hadn’t helped Steve and the poor sod had died. So it didn’t matter if Steve had seen Gareth or not, did it? All he had to do was get Ella out of the house for a bit and everything would be all right.
The idea gave him new hope, and he forced himself to his feet and joined Soraya at the water’s edge. Her new friend had gone, and Rick realised guiltily he should have been watching the child.
‘How about an ice cream? Then we’ll go back to our room and phone Mummy.’
‘Ooh yes!’ Soraya was distracted now and happy.
He followed her across the beach to the ice cream van, a lump rising in his throat. If things had been different he and Ella could have been a family with this kiddie, she was a sweetie even if she wasn’t a boy. What had changed that? Oh yes, Gareth and the baby. His real baby. So leaving Ella was the best thing to do… If only his head would stop buzzing.
The bathroom at the B&B was free, and Rick ran a bath for Soraya, adding a generous slosh of rose petal bath foam from the basket on the window ledge. He needed a few minutes peace to phone Ella, and a bath had worked well the last time. He left her to play.
‘No splashing, now, and I’ll leave the doors open. Shout if you need anything.’
She was busy piling foam on her head, and he hurried back to the bedroom. Now for the phone call. He had to sound calm, firm, and positive. Ella was to come here for a week with her darling daughter, that was the new plan, but… Oh no. How could he have forgotten? June was staying with them and Steve was dead – under these circumstances Ella might not want a holiday. He would have to insist, that was all. A holiday or lose Soraya.
Phone in hand, Rick lay back on his bed, then dropped the mobile to massage his forehead. He was so tense. This headache he’d had since leaving home was getting worse; he should take another pill… What had he wanted to do? Ah yes, call Ella. Where was his phone?
He felt around
the top of the bed, but the phone… no, here it was. He squinted at the screen. But he was much too tired to speak to Ella. He would have a little sleep first, then everything would be better. His eyes closed.
Chapter Three
Friday 1st August
Amanda stood outside the flats, twisting the strap of her handbag and staring back up the hill. She was home, but she didn’t have the peace of mind to go inside and do some of her freelance secretarial work, the original plan for this child-free day. The thought that Ella’s neighbour was a policeman who was all set to help if Rick didn’t reappear… that was spooking her well and truly. And there was nothing she could do, apart from text Rick. Which was futile. If Rick didn’t get in touch, Ella would call Owen and then – what?
A nauseating sensation that had nothing to do with her pregnancy gripped Amanda’s gut, and she sat down on the wall by the entrance to the flats. Rick had been very odd on the phone… Gareth must be somewhere close to home. The shed. Something was shouting out to her that it was the shed. At some point, Rick had hidden Gareth there, he must have. Maybe there were bloodstains he couldn’t get rid of? But Gareth hadn’t bled – or had he?
And… Ella was gobsmacked when Owen told her about Rick banging his head coming out of the shed. According to Owen, Ella’s father was in there when he collapsed… Amanda’s breath caught painfully. Was Gareth still in Ella’s shed? Waiting to be buried? That would explain everything. Amanda began to shake. Had Rick stuffed Gareth into a box or a barrel and left him there? But – bodies smelled, didn’t they? Or maybe the smell didn’t last long? Amanda raised unsteady fingers to cold cheeks. She was getting into a state here; she would have to go inside.
