by Anne Weale
When she talked about this to Alex, while he was driving a hired car to their country retreat, he said, ‘That’s just a maternal reflex. In a few years’ time Dan will be leaving home altogether. He’ll find it a lot easier for having already had some experience outside the nest. Late teenagers who’ve never had to fend for themselves can find it a hard transition. Even going to college is traumatic for some of them.’
‘I suppose you’re right. But last night, when I was in his room, I had the feeling there was something on his mind...that perhaps he wasn’t looking forward to going back as much as he claimed.’
‘I expect he was suffering from last-night-at-home syndrome. I always did. It’s normal. Don’t worry about it.’
The hotel Alex had chosen was a converted Elizabethan manor house combining character with modern comforts.
They unpacked, had a shower together, went to bed for a couple of hours and then went down to eat in a restaurant where, apart from one party of six, most of their fellow diners were in couples. The noise level was low, the service attentive, the atmosphere relaxing.
‘What a long time it seems since our first meal together,’ said Nicole, remembering how tense she had been on that occasion.
Tuning in to her thoughts, Alex smiled at her. ‘You are more relaxed now.’
‘Naturally...I know you better.’
‘You could say that.’ She could tell he was thinking about their time in bed.
In that sphere at least they were in perfect harmony: enjoying each other’s bodies without restraint.
They made love again after dinner and, next morning, he woke her with kisses. Nicole liked touching his unshaven face. She found the slight roughness excitingly male, especially against the tender skin of her thighs. The more often they made love, the more rapidly she was aroused to the point where she had to grab a pillow and hold it over her face to muffle her cries of pleasure.
But later, after she had made love to him and then their bodies had fused for the final shared ecstasy, then came the let-down. Although, physically, she was satisfied, emotionally there was a shortfall. She needed to hear those three vital words—I love you.
After a leisurely breakfast they went for a long country walk, returning in time for lunch. Afterwards, in the comfortable drawing room made cosier by a log fire, Alex read the papers and Nicole enjoyed a browse through various glossy magazines.
‘I think I’ll go up and wash my hair,’ she said presently.
‘They serve afternoon tea at four,’ he reminded her. ‘Hot crumpets and home-made cakes.’
‘I know, but do I need them? You stay and enjoy them. I’ll see you later.’
She was halfway up the wide staircase when Alex caught her up. ‘I’m going to pass on the crumpets.’ There was no one about. He slid his arm round her waist. ‘All I need more of is you. You can wash your hair later.’
In their room, he drew her against him as if it were days, not hours, since their last lovemaking. Nicole responded eagerly, closing her mind to the thought that passion, without love, was famous for burning out.
They had undressed each other and were in bed, kissing, when their privacy was disturbed.
‘What the hell...?’ Alex raised his head and glowered at the telephone. Then, reluctantly, he reached for the receiver. ‘Yes?’ he said curtly.
Wondering if the hotel switchboard had routed a call to the wrong room, Nicole waited for the interruption to end. After about half a minute she realised that Alex had been listening to the caller for too long for the call not to be for him. Also his frown had not lightened. His eyebrows were still drawn together. His lips which, moments before, had been gently teasing hers were now compressed in a way that indicated what he was hearing didn’t please him.
So far he had said nothing, only listened and scribbled something on the notepad. Eventually he said briskly, ‘I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.’
Replacing the receiver, he rolled into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. It was clear before he spoke that they were not going to continue making love. Reaching for both her hands, holding them firmly in his, he said, ‘That was Dan’s headmaster. Dan has gone walkabout. He left a written note for the head. It refers to an email to you explaining why and where he’s gone. In the note to Browning he only said the reason was private.’
‘Oh, God...oh Dan...’
In the first moments of shock, all the horrifying news stories she had ever read swept through Nicole’s mind like a flock of vultures. The thought of her son on his own in a world full of crackpots and criminals triggered a panic she found it hard to control.
Alex said quietly, ‘Let’s get your laptop plugged in. Where did you put it?’
‘It’s still in my case.’ She sprang off the bed and rushed to the suitcase she hadn’t fully unpacked yet. ‘But what if there isn’t an outlet I can plug into?’
‘Then we’ll take it downstairs to the manager’s office. There’ll be somewhere where it will work.’
His calmness stopped her from falling apart. Mercifully the hotel had made provisions for the type of guests known as ‘road warriors’, meaning business people who needed to be in constant touch with their headquarters and customers by email and the Internet.
Because her hands were unsteady, it was Alex who plugged the machine in and switched it on. Her fingers feeling all thumbs, Nicole keyed in her password and waited for the system to boot up. It seemed for ever before she was able to click on ‘Dan to Mum’ and read the message her son had left in her Inbox.
Dear Mum, While we were visiting Granpa I found out who my father is. I know you don’t want to have anything to do with him, but I’d like to meet him, just once. I can’t help being curious about him. As he’s famous, it’s not going to be difficult to find him. There are some fanzines about him on the Net. He looks OK. Perhaps he’s changed since you knew him. Please don’t worry about me. I’m old enough to look after myself now. I’m not taking my laptop. It’s heavy to lug around and might get pinched. So I can’t keep in touch. But I’ll be all right. If I haven’t found him in a few days, I’ll come back Love to you and Alex. Dan xxxxxx
Alex had been looking over her shoulder at the words on the screen. He said, ‘He must have emailed that just before he left. He’ll be halfway to London by now. What the headmaster wants to know is whether to call in the police. At this stage, I think not. Once the police are involved, the press will get hold of it. That’s the last thing you want...your private life plastered all over the tabloids.’
‘But the police are our only hope of finding him!’ she exclaimed. ‘How would the press find out if we wanted it kept strictly private?’
‘Because the police are human beings,’ he said dryly. ‘In most if not all police stations there’s someone who tips off the local press when anything newsworthy comes up. The local reporters tip off the national press. Anyway Dan is right: he is old enough to look after himself. England isn’t the dungheap of crime and vice that the tabloid papers present it as. Good people still outnumber bad people by a high percentage.’
‘Outside big cities, perhaps. But London is full of predators just waiting to prey on youngsters who arrive there on their own. You know it is.’
‘You’re thinking of children who have run away from home and want never to go back... children without any money or means of support. I’m sure Dan has adequate funds to carry out his plan. He’ll have made a plan, you can bet on it. He’s a sensible guy.’
‘But he’s only thirteen!’ she wailed. ‘Where is he going to spend the night? A hotel wouldn’t give him a room, nor would a youth hostel. He’s tall for his age, but he couldn’t pass for sixteen.’
‘Have a look at these fanzines he’s mentioned and see if they give a clue to where he might find his father,’ Alex advised. ‘I don’t think they will, but Dan has to have something to go on. He wouldn’t have taken off without some sort of lead.’
Forcing herself to concentrate, Nicole did
a search on the Internet and found several websites devoted to the man who was the cause of this crisis. Two sites were the work of fans but the third was part of a big commercial website funded by one of the big recording companies. None of the sites gave any indication of where in London Pete lived. She hadn’t expected them to. The last thing any pop star wanted was to have his privacy invaded by a horde of excited groupies.
‘We’d better call Browning back...will you talk to him?’ Alex asked.
She nodded. ‘Are you sure we shouldn’t call the police?’
‘Definitely not tonight. We need time to think this thing through.’
But it was tonight that worried her. In daylight her son was less at risk. But at night, sleeping out in the open—and she couldn’t see any alternative to that—a young boy was frighteningly vulnerable to thieves and other molesters. At the same time she felt that Alex was a better judge of the situation than she was. She knew that he cared about Dan and would protect him with his life if the necessity arose. He might never come to love her, but his affection for her son was evident every time they were together.
The headmaster, when she spoke to him, did not try to persuade her to change her mind about the police. Nor did he press her for the reason for Dan’s absence. Perhaps he sensed that a damaging scandal was looming over his school and, although deeply concerned for Dan’s safety, was equally concerned about the effect on the school and other parents if a pack of press and TV reporters descended on it.
‘Please keep in close touch, Ms Dawson,’ he said, at the end of their conversation.
Nicole promised she would and put the phone down. Throughout the call Alex had been pacing the room. She felt sure he had registered everything she had said, but she sensed that his mind had also been working on something else.
Now he stopped pacing and looked at her. ‘That bank account you told me about...the fund Dan’s father started for him. What bank and what branch? Do you have the details with you?’
‘They’re on my hard disk in a file I transfer every time I upgrade my machine.’
‘Look them up, will you?’
It was a matter of moments to locate the file and open it.
Alex made some more notes on the jotting pad. ‘If we can’t make contact with Dan, we can at least try to contact his father.’
‘How? The bank won’t reveal his whereabouts. They might forward a letter to him, but that could take ages.’
‘No information is sacrosanct if you know the right person to ask. One of my brothers-in-law is in banking. He will know. Close down your notebook and I’ll call him.’
When, within seconds of dialling the number, he began dictating a message, her heart sank. His brother-in-law might only be out for the evening, or he might be away on a trip. Anyway tracking down Pete wasn’t really going to help. It was Dan they had to find before something terrible happened to him.
‘I’m sure this isn’t an impulse thing. He’s been planning it for some time,’ she said, speaking her thoughts aloud. ‘I should have known there was something on his mind. If I hadn’t been preoccupied with other things...I blame myself for not noticing he was unhappy.’
‘What makes you think he was unhappy?’
‘If he was happy, he wouldn’t have run away.’
‘I don’t think he has run away. His curiosity about his natural father has become too strong to resist. It was bound to happen sooner or later.’
‘Nobody ever really knows what’s going on inside other people. Perhaps he’s felt...excluded. All his life he’s had me to himself. Deep down he may not like having to share me.’
Alex came to where she was sitting and sat beside her, putting his arm round her shoulders. ‘Dan isn’t the kind of over-indulged, self-centred child who would feel that. He’s in no doubt about how much you love him...and he adores you.’
There was something in the way he said it that made her think, just for a fraction of a second, that it might be Alex himself who felt excluded from her bond with her son. But a moment later she recognised the thought as merely wishful thinking, to which she had always been prone and more so since meeting him.
‘He may find our marriage disturbing,’ she said. ‘Adolescent boys have problems adjusting to their own sexuality. They’re uncomfortable with the idea of their parents having a sex life, especially their mothers.’
‘I’ve been a teenage boy. Believe me, they don’t have half the hang-ups that psychiatrists and other dogooders would like to pin on them. I doubt if Dan’s given a thought to what you and I do in private.’
‘Your parents had always been married. It’s different for the children of single parents. They’re a lot less secure... a lot more easily upset.’
‘That depends on their temperament,’ Alex told her. ‘I’ve spent enough time with Dan to know that he’s as solid as they come.’
‘But if he was desperate to meet his father, why didn’t he tell me?’
‘He probably thought you wouldn’t agree to a meeting. It was better to go ahead and do it, without involving you. You had better let your father know where we are. In your absence, he’s the person Dan will call if he decides to make contact. There’s no need to worry your father by telling him what’s happened. Just give him the name and number of the hotel so that, if necessary, he can call us.’
When the time came for dinner, Nicole knew she couldn’t eat a full meal and Alex agreed that he wasn’t hungry either. He rang Room Service to order sandwiches, a pot of coffee and a bottle of wine.
At ten o‘clock he ran a bath for her. ‘You must try to get some sleep. A warm bath will help.’
After her bath, he insisted she had some hot chocolate laced with brandy as another aid to sleep.
Surprisingly, she did sleep through part of that long night. Having Alex curled round behind her made her feel less distraught than had she been on her own.
Several long wakeful periods caused her to oversleep the following morning. Alex was already dressed when she opened her eyes and found him sitting in a chair he had moved close to her side of the bed.
‘You should have woken me,’ she protested, seeing what time it was.
‘You needed more rest. We’ll have breakfast, then drive to London. If that’s where his father lives when he’s not on tour, that’s where Dan will show up. We can use Kesri’s flat.’
CHAPTER NINE
WHEN they arrived at the flat, Jal said to Nicole, ‘I have a telephone message for you, madam...an urgent message. A gentleman would like you to call him back at your earliest convenience. I’ve written his name and number by the telephone in the drawing room.’ He opened the door for her.
Nicole thanked him and hurried to the telephone on an end table by one of the sofas where she and Alex had sat when he’d interviewed her. On the pad, in Jal’s neat hand, was written Pete Jones and a number starting with the outer London code.
‘It’s Dan’s father,’ she told Alex, starting to dial.
Her call was answered by a man with a foreign accent. She gave her name and told him about the message.
‘Hold the line, please. I will ask.’
In a fever of impatience, she waited for what seemed a long time. With her hand over the mouthpiece, she said, ‘He must know something. Why else would he have called?’
Before Alex could answer, a voice she hadn’t heard for almost fourteen years said, ‘Hi, Nicky. You can stop worrying. He’s here.’
‘Thank God!’ For the first time in her life Nicole felt as if she might faint. The relief of knowing Dan was safe made her eyes brim with tears, her lips quiver. She sank onto the sofa, starting to shake with reaction to the hours of being tense with anxiety.
‘He’s safe...he’s all right,’ she told Alex. Then, speaking to Pete, ‘How did he find you? How long has he been with you?’
‘Not long...a couple of hours. We could have touched base sooner if you’d had a mobile. Dan says you don’t like them.’
She had once read in
a magazine that, when missing children were restored to them, parents were often more angry than joyful. Now she learned this for herself. If Dan had been in the room, she would have had difficulty controlling the urge to shake him until his teeth rattled.
‘Is he there? I want to speak to him.’
She heard Pete say, ‘Your mum wants a word.’
Then a nervous voice said, ‘I’m sorry if you were worried.’
‘Not half as sorry as you’re going to be! How could you? How could you be so totally irresponsible? I thought you had more sense. I thought I could trust you...rely on you. Have you any idea what you’ve put us through, you thoughtless, selfish little beast?’
Her rage poured out in a flood of angry upbraidings that came to an abrupt end when her voice cracked and she burst into tears.
As, still holding the phone to her ear, she wiped them away with her free hand, Dan said in a quavery voice, ‘Please don’t cry, Mum...I’m sorry...I’m sorry.’ He was starting to cry himself. Sniffs and gulps could be heard down the line.
Then, as her anger evaporated and she wanted to hug him, the phone was taken away from her and replaced by a man-sized handkerchief.
‘Dan, this is Alex. I want to speak to your father.’
Overwhelmed by emotion, Nicole heard Alex’s side of the conversation with Pete without making any sense of it. She was still in floods when it ended and her husband took her in his arms, holding her head against his shoulder and stroking and patting her back, as she would have comforted her child had he been there.
When the outburst finally stopped and she could speak coherently, she said, in a husky murmur, ‘I don’t make a habit of this. I haven’t cried for years.’
‘There are extenuating circumstances.’ Alex tipped up her face and smoothed her hair from her forehead and temples.
