The Girl on the Beach

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The Girl on the Beach Page 16

by Morton S. Gray


  Mandy had now sold several of Nick’s canvases. He had proudly shown Ellie his new school shoes today, bought with his own money.

  The mentoring scheme had been declared a success after only half a term. The students who had been chosen for the scheme had shown marked improvement in their attitude and level of commitment to school work. The scheme was set to continue and grow.

  Even Tom told Ellie that his weekly chats with John Williams were giving him the opportunity to share his views, voice any problems and have a sounding board for difficult homework. She was overjoyed that Tom had taken to the meetings, despite his initial negative reaction. It allowed him to have a male viewpoint in his life, rather than the female-only influences, mostly from herself and Mandy, he’d had before.

  Did she imagine that her own mentee, Zack, had calmed down a lot? He’d taken to tying his tie in the normal way. It could be just that he was growing in maturity, but Ellie hoped that having her full attention in the mentoring meetings had meant that Zack didn’t feel he had to win attention from troublesome behaviour at school.

  The only real cloud on the horizon of an otherwise settled life, as half term came and went, was not knowing if Rushton would reappear, or what his next move might be.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The weather on November the fifth was changeable. One minute the skies were blue with fluffy white clouds and the next, those clouds were tinged with grey and it drizzled. Ellie couldn’t believe the date, Christmas was just around the corner and she hadn’t even started making preparations, apart from at the gallery, where she had to think ahead. She had been busy producing more Christmas-themed pots and increasing her stock of smaller paintings she hoped people would buy for Christmas presents. Where had the time gone since the start of term?

  Borteen High school had an annual fireworks display on the school field. Ellie had volunteered to butter rolls for the hot dog stall. Wrapped up to keep warm, wearing jeans and a jumper and her hair tied tightly back, she had butter on her sleeves already. Her buttering companion was one of the chattiest women in Borteen, Mrs Edgar. Ellie was almost regretting taking on the job.

  They were part of the chain of a production line for hotdogs. The school secretary used a bread knife to cut the rolls in two, Ellie and Mrs Edgar buttered them and put them on trays, two sixth-formers took them over to the barbecue to be loaded with sausages and the sales team on another table sold them with a squirt of either red, brown or mustard sauce. Sales were brisk.

  A big queue began to develop at the sales table. Ellie was being urged to speed up. It had become almost a game to see whether she or Mrs Edgar, who never shut up for one moment, could butter a tray of rolls faster.

  Ellie was beginning to enjoy her task and was laughing and buttering faster and faster, until she heard Louise, Tom’s girlfriend calling her name. Glancing at the girl’s face, she knew there was something wrong. Tears glistened on her long eyelashes.

  Ellie stopped buttering and abandoned her post, passing the butter knife to one of the sixth-formers and grabbing her bag from underneath the table.

  ‘Whatever’s the matter, Louise?’

  ‘Do you know where Tom’s gone?’ The anguish in the girl’s voice made Ellie’s stomach turn to ice.

  ‘What do you mean, where Tom’s gone?’

  Ellie put her hands on the girl’s arms to force her to look into her face.

  Louise took a big shuddering breath. Ellie held her own.

  ‘Tom got into a van by the school gate. He didn’t answer me when I called his name, didn’t even turn round. It seemed really weird, not right at all. I thought for a moment he was ignoring me, but now I think he was trying not to draw any attention to me.’

  Ellie fought to stay calm, but a maelstrom began churning in her stomach. ‘Did you recognise the van … the driver?’ An image of the blue van she had thought was following her the previous month came to mind.

  ‘No. I’ve never seen the van before and it had dark windows, so I couldn’t see the driver,’ Louise sobbed.

  ‘Did you get the registration number?’ Ellie rummaged in her bag for her mobile phone and tissues for Louise.

  The girl continued to cry. ‘No, I’m so stupid. I didn’t think quickly enough.’

  ‘Hey, hey.’ Ellie pulled the girl into her arms for a hug. ‘I wouldn’t have thought either.’ She let go of Louise and put her hand on her chest where her heart was beating fast. She had to think, couldn’t let herself dissolve into a useless puddle with fear. ‘You probably weren’t close enough to see anyway. I’ll try Tom’s mobile.’ She took a deep shuddering breath. ‘There could be an innocent explanation.’ Deep down she knew it was a vain hope. Rushton!

  ‘Tom looked so straight and stiff, as if he didn’t want to get into the van. I tried to ring him after it had driven off, but he didn’t answer.’

  The cold feeling had spread all over Ellie’s body and she began to shiver. She tried Tom’s mobile number anyway. No answer. Eventually it cut through to her son’s beloved tones on his bright voicemail greeting. She didn’t leave a message. What now? She really needed to stay calm and think clearly.

  ‘Have you seen Mr Dixon this evening?’

  ‘He’s on the doughnut stall.’

  Ellie made her decision. Positive action was needed. She dialled the police.

  She reported Tom missing and gave details of the incident with Rushton at the gallery to add weight to the fear that her son had been abducted by her ex-husband. The officer asked her to make her way to the main school gate, together with Louise, to meet the police car that would be sent to them.

  She stared at the screen of her mobile for a few seconds, took another shuddering breath, grabbed Louise’s hand and marched over to the doughnut stall, explaining to her on the way what the policeman had said.

  Ellie could see Harry as she approached. He was busy bagging up doughnuts. Tonight, he was dressed in faded denim jeans and a light-coloured denim shirt with a padded body-warmer on top. He looked twice at the pair as they walked into the halo cast by the temporary lights near the stall. Immediately, he put down the bag he was holding.

  Ellie stopped walking, momentarily stuck dumb.

  Harry said something to the teenager working on the stall with him and came out from behind the tables wiping sugar off his fingers.

  ‘What’s wrong, Ellie? Louise?’

  ‘Tom’s been taken.’

  ‘Taken?’

  ‘Abducted, kidnapped.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Louise saw Tom getting into a van. I can’t get hold of him on his mobile. I thought a van was following me the other day. I’ve reported it to the police. We’ve got to meet them by the gate.’ A huge sob shook her body.

  ‘Your ex?’

  ‘What better way to get at me?’

  Ellie put her hands over her face as another violent shudder hit her. She had to pull herself together. Now was not the time for a meltdown.

  ‘Sorry, Harry, I didn’t know who else to ask for help.’

  Ellie began to have difficulty catching her breath.

  ‘Hey, calm down. Deep breaths. He might be with a friend. All this is probably nothing. Recent events have made you nervous, that’s all. We’ll find him.’ Harry reached out and put his hand on her arm. ‘Deep breaths.’

  Louise stood back, turning to tell one of her friends what had happened.

  Ellie launched herself into Harry’s arms. It felt such a relief to slump against his strength and warmth. As soon as she realised what she had done and in public too, she pulled away, but he kept hold of her arms.

  ‘But, what if Rushton has got him? I’m scared.’

  ‘Hey, calm down. We don’t know anything for sure yet. Stop imagining the worst. You go to the gate with Louise and meet with the police. I’ll ask around quickly and see if anyone else saw anything, then join you.’

  Harry was still holding onto her.

  She realised he was trying to calm her down, get her
to think rationally, but all his words were doing was making her more worked up. Panic rose up inside, fuelling sudden anger. She pulled away.

  ‘I don’t want to calm down … I want my son … Help me.’

  ‘I will, Ellie, but for that I need you rational and clear-headed.’ He was smoothing his hands across the air between them, as if he could soothe her with the gesture.

  ‘Harry stop it. This isn’t about me, it’s about Tom.’

  ‘Hey, hey. We’re wasting time. I’m going to go and ask around. See if anyone else saw anything. I’ll meet you by the gate.’

  ‘But as you said … we’re wasting time.’

  She didn’t feel he was taking her fears seriously and he wasn’t doing anything.

  Fear and frustration overwhelmed her and before she knew it she grabbed his arm and whispered fiercely in his ear.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, do something Harry. He’s your son too.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Harry was stunned. He must have misheard.

  Ellie gripped his arm with such force that he had to bite his lip. She leaned forward again to speak closer to him.

  ‘He’s your son too,’ she repeated, her voice a little calmer.

  The whole world closed down to the words coming out of Ellie’s mouth.

  ‘What? What did you say?’

  ‘He’s your son too.’

  Even the third repeat didn’t compute in his brain.

  ‘Ellie, how on earth can he be my son?’

  Harry was conscious of the possibility of those nearby overhearing and lowered his voice to a whisper.

  ‘You asked me why I can’t forget Ben Rivers. It’s because he fathered Tom on the beach in Cornwall on the night before he was found dead on the sand.’

  ‘You’re talking nonsense. We’ve had the discussion about my similarity to this Ben person so many times.’

  He was saying the words. Looking at Ellie’s anguished face. His rational mind told him she was delusional, but somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain, it all made sense.

  His feeling that he must have known Tom’s dad. The way he felt that Thomas Golden was an equal match for him. The rapport that had built up between them. The way looking into Tom’s face was like looking into a mirror. However impossible it seemed, however he couldn’t imagine how it had happened, it felt right.

  There was no need for genetic tests. He knew, with the full force of recognition that what Ellie was saying was the truth. No wonder she had been badgering him for an admission about his past with so much at stake.

  He had a son and that son was missing.

  Although his mind was in turmoil, he had to maintain a calm exterior, had to act as if nothing unusual was happening. He was the headmaster of this school. It was a search for a missing child and he would search for any student of the school who went missing.

  His son! He felt a surge of emotion gathering, panic almost. Tom could be in the hands of Rushton Jacob and that was not a happy thought.

  He had to do his best to shield Ellie from his worries. Sure, Rushton had it in for Ellie and could have taken Tom to exact revenge, but there were other possibilities. It could be an innocent misunderstanding. But, if someone else had worked out his relationship to Tom, if Rushton had recognised him that day, there could be real danger. But how was that even possible, if he himself had not guessed? It was more likely the link to Ellie that had put the boy in danger.

  Ellie had wondered many times if and how to tell Harry the truth about Tom. None of those imaginings had included a terrified admission in the darkness of a field, surrounded by people she would rather not know all of her personal business. Neither could she have foretold leaping into Harry’s arms in front of so many witnesses. The gossipmongers would have enough to keep them going all winter long.

  To his credit, Harry hadn’t publicly proclaimed her insane. He’d kept his voice to a whisper and taken everything seemingly impassively in his stride. He hadn’t sought to denounce her accusation about him fathering Tom, instead he’d chosen to keep a cool head and to focus on the search for a missing child from his school. She guessed his opinions and questions about the truth of her claims would come later.

  They met the police by the gate and related what little information they knew. Harry had rounded up some of Tom’s classmates and asked them to recall any sightings of Tom Golden that evening. Another lad had also seen Tom getting into the big, dark blue van, but hadn’t thought there was anything sinister in it.

  They promised to begin searching, putting out several patrols and the police helicopter.

  Harry and Ellie saw Louise safely home, explained to her parents what had happened and then drove around the streets of Borteen in Harry’s little sports car. They walked every inch of the beach. There was no sign of Tom or the van.

  The beach in darkness could be a magical place, but tonight the atmosphere was sinister, especially as it began to rain. Ellie added a few more tears to the moisture in the air, as they searched mostly in silence.

  They went to the gallery, in case a note had been pushed through the door, but there was nothing. The newly replaced glass shone in the street light’s glow. They paused to watch the Borteen High firework display from a distance.

  Her house was the next stop, but it was in darkness and there was no note or answering machine message, no sign that Tom had returned.

  Ellie checked with Louise, but she had still heard nothing from Tom. Ellie promised to update her when she knew anything.

  She phoned the police again and they drove to the station in Sowden to make a formal report about what had happened. It all felt surreal. She had to relate the details of the earlier attack and her worries about Rushton Jacob. The officer was reassuring and promised they had put extra patrols on the streets and would view CCTV footage to see if they could identify the direction the van had travelled, although there weren’t many cameras in the town. Nothing had been found as yet, but the search had begun and there didn’t seem any more they could do. Ellie was offered a support officer, but she refused and Harry assured the man that she would not be alone as he would stay with her.

  They returned to Borteen to wait for news. Ellie had left a light on in the lounge, so her house was lit up as Harry drew up at the kerbside. She looked up at the windows and offered up a prayer. Her hair was frizzy after the drizzle and the sleeves of Harry’s denim shirt were wet through. She had resigned herself to the fact Tom wouldn’t be there, but it didn’t stop her yelling his name brightly as she opened the door. There was no note and no Tom.

  Ellie fetched two towels and offered one to Harry. She slumped on the sofa and checked her mobile phone for the umpteenth time. A few more tears escaped and ran down her cheeks.

  ‘Probably a stupid question, but you don’t happen to have a contact number for Rushton?’ asked Harry.

  ‘No, nothing. His last known address as far as I’m concerned was the prison in Bristol.’

  Harry sank down on the chair. ‘Ellie, we’re going to have to have a serious talk about what you said earlier, but the priority right now is finding Tom.’

  ‘Let’s have a drink and then go out searching again.’

  Harry agreed, but the second search didn’t find anything more than the first. They spotted a heavy police presence out searching too. Ellie felt tired and distraught. When they got to her house, she made two mugs of hot chocolate and they sat warming their hands on the mugs.

  ‘I don’t see what more we can do ourselves tonight. We have to hope the police come up with something. Unfortunately, it’s most likely Rushton who has him and I know what he wants from me. He’ll be enjoying stringing this out and terrifying me.’

  ‘What does he want?’

  ‘Money I found after he’d been arrested.’ She glanced at Harry. ‘No doubt you’re thinking I should have given it to the police, but I had a child to support.’

  ‘I won’t judge you, Ellie. How much money, exactly?’

  �
��About fifty thousand pounds.’

  ‘Blimey! No wonder he wants it back.’ Harry ran his hands through his wet hair.

  ‘I just can’t stand the thought that Rushton might hurt my baby.’

  ‘Imaginings aren’t going to help us. We have no reason to suspect Tom has been harmed, or will be harmed, and we’re still making assumptions that he’s in any danger at all.’

  She knew he was only attempting to keep her calm, but the expression on his face suggested he didn’t believe his words any more than she did.

  He glanced at his watch. ‘Midnight. I hate to say it, but I don’t think we’ll hear anything till morning, unless, of course, Tom appears in the next few hours excited about some club or other he’s visited with his mates.’

  ‘I think the chances of that are slim, but I’ll try to cling onto that thought and imagine being angry with him for not telling me where he was going.’ She undid the laces on her boots. ‘Poor Louise thought Tom had broken up with her when he didn’t respond to her calls.’

  ‘She does seem besotted with him.’

  ‘I assure you it’s totally mutual. That’s why the behaviour Louise described seems so odd. He wouldn’t have ignored her if everything was all right.’

  Having taken off her boots, Ellie played with the edge of the pages of a magazine on the table by the settee.

  She had no way of knowing why Tom had got into that van. It could belong to one of his friends’ parents or anything, but however many scenarios she imagined which made this situation harmless, her gut instinct was telling her things were not right. Tom would surely have told her if he had intended to go somewhere other than the school bonfire party.

  ‘Ellie, we should try to get some rest. I know you won’t want to, but we need to have our wits about us for whatever tomorrow holds. Can I borrow your pillow and blanket again, please?’

  She knew what Harry was saying made sense. She didn’t even question that he was going to stay over. She fetched the bedding he’d used before and left him to settle down on the sofa. Not undressing, apart from taking off her fleece, she slid underneath her duvet. She got too hot and threw off the covers and then she got cold and pulled them back on. Sleep was the last thing on her mind and the novel that had been so gripping to read the night before held no appeal, the words merging and blurring in front of her tired eyes.

 

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