Love You Gone: A gripping psychological crime novel with an incredible twist

by Rona Halsall

  Part Four

  Earlier

  Forty-One

  Friday

  The holiday cottage in the Lake District was ideal, Luke thought, as he drove up the gravelled driveway. Tucked away in a sleepy little village, behind tall privet hedges, nobody would notice what they were doing. In fact, a lot of the other properties they’d passed looked like they were holiday cottages and it could well be there weren’t any neighbours at all. Which would be perfect.

  ‘Here we are then.’ Luke looked in the mirror to see Tessa gazing back at him, uncertain. ‘Help me get the stuff in, will you?’

  Callum sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed over his chest, not looking like he was going anywhere.

  Luke ruffled his hair and Callum hunched away from him, out of reach. ‘I know it’s going to be hard leaving your friends, son. But it won’t be for ever. When all this is sorted out, things will be very different. And anyway, you’ll make new friends.’

  Callum scowled at him.

  ‘Tell me again,’ Tessa said. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘You remember Granny Eileen and Grandpa Bob who live in Ireland, don’t you? Your Mum’s grandparents, who we visited a couple of times when you were little? Well, they’ve just moved into a retirement home and we’re going to stay in their old house for a bit.’

  Tessa screwed up her nose. ‘I sort of remember. Did they have a donkey? Is that them?’

  Luke turned and smiled at her. ‘Yes, that’s them. You remember now?’

  ‘Do they have a tractor?’ A note of curiosity had crept into Callum’s voice.

  ‘Oh, I would think so. I think every farm has a tractor. Although it’s not really a farm. It’s just a big house with a few acres.’

  ‘Didn’t they have chickens?’ Tessa said. ‘I seem to remember collecting eggs.’

  Luke nodded. ‘That’s right.’ He looked at his son who was still frowning. ‘Come on, Cal. I know it’s a lot to take in. But we’ve got to get away from Mel, haven’t we? And this is the only way we’re going to do it.’

  ‘I don’t understand why we can’t just move back to the farm,’ Callum muttered. ‘I liked it there.’

  ‘Well, there’s some things that need sorting out, which means that’s not going to be possible.’

  Callum sighed, one of the big heaving sighs that children do so well, and gazed at his dad. ‘I’m just so fed up of moving. First we left my friends in Scotland and then we had to go to that school that just spoke Welsh and then we went to Bangor and I found the best friend I’ll ever have and now we’ve got to move again.’

  There were tears in his voice and his eyes shone. He was a tough kid, but Luke realised he’d been pushed to his limit. He desperately wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, but he couldn’t because he didn’t know himself what was going to happen. There was no doubt that his plan was risky, so many things that could go wrong. He rubbed his hands on his jeans.

  ‘Look, I’m trying to keep you safe, son. That’s what this is all about. Like I said, it’s not for ever. And the best bit is, you won’t have to go to school for a while.’

  Callum’s eyes widened. ‘For real? No school?’

  Luke nodded.

  Callum’s face cracked into a grin.

  ‘Not sounding quite so bad now, is it?’ Luke laughed, although his insides were a mass of nerves, like having a whole bunch of snakes writhing in his stomach. He clapped his hands.

  ‘Right guys, bags out of the boot, let’s get this show on the road.’

  It took them a little while, but eventually he was satisfied that everything looked right. They’d all put on their pyjamas and got into to bed, ruffled up the sheets to make it look like they’d slept there, spread out their possessions in as messy a way as possible, all to give the impression they’d been there a couple of days. He put crockery in the dishwasher and turned it on, coats on hooks, shoes in a pile by the door, opened his laptop and pulled up a page on Grizedale Forest. Then he lit a fire, to leave evidence that the wood burner had been used. In the master bedroom, he unpacked his bags, put on latex gloves and placed the old make-up bag of Mel’s in the bathroom cabinet.

  Back downstairs, he made sure the kids were ready, their rucksacks with everything they’d need for the journey already packed and waiting for them to grab from the car.

  ‘Why can’t I bring my tablet, though?’ Tessa whined when he made her put it back in her bedroom. They were almost ready to leave when, out of the corner of his eye, he’d caught her trying to sneak it out.

  ‘Because it’s got to look like we just went out for a walk and expected to come back. It would look suspicious if we took it.’

  She stomped back upstairs and Luke promised himself there would be lots of treats over the next few weeks. It was a heck of a thing he was expecting from them, but having talked it over with his family, it was the only solution they could come up with. If it works. By the time they were ready to leave, Luke was hot and flustered, so many things to check to make sure they’d left the house looking just right.

  He’d tried to make it into a game, especially when he’d needed to get some blood to smear on their old clothes. So now they were all blood brothers, something the kids had submitted themselves to with curiosity rather than fear. They’d made a pact, to protect each other, whatever happened, which all sounded very melodramatic, but the kids were at an age where they loved that stuff. He wanted to make them feel they were going on an adventure rather than make it an ordeal, and once he’d convinced them that it was a Native American tradition, they didn’t mind a quick nick on their hands. Blood spots and smears. He hoped they would be enough to plant a seed of doubt. Make life uncomfortable enough for Mel to make her willing to go into hiding.

  He scribbled a note, propped it on the mantelpiece and did one final check round. Yes, he nodded to himself, that should do it. He glanced at his watch and picked up his bag.

  ‘Come on, Tess,’ he shouted up the stairs. ‘We’ll miss the bus if you don’t get a move on.’ Then they were out of the door, leaving the place unlocked and all the lights on.

  Once in Windermere, they made their way to the café. Luke saw Ted sitting in a window seat, a cap shading his face as he scrolled through his phone, and he took a deep breath to prepare himself. They would pretend to be strangers, people who just happened to share a table, and Luke hoped that Ted could pull it off. Truth was, he hadn’t wanted Ted in the plan, in any shape or form. But then his mum had come up with another idea, one which, he’d had to admit, had shocked him at the time, and getting Ted involved was central to making things work. The more he’d talked it through with her, the more adamant she’d become and, in the end, he’d given in, rather than see her getting all worked up about it. Thankfully, Ted had been cooperative, but can I trust him? He still wasn’t sure.

  Luke’s face settled into a worried frown, as he thought about the finality of what he was about to do. Could he really end this life of his, leave it behind, permanently? It was such a risk. His father was getting a bit frail now and definitely not functioning well, his mother so prone to those awful mood swings, her grasp on reality coming apart at the seams as the degenerative effects of her MS started to become more obvious. And then there was poor Ceri, stuck as a dogsbody looking after them all with Ted lording it over her, as though her children were his and she was just the skivvy.

  He shook his head to dislodge his concerns and concentrated on guiding the kids through the menu, placing their order for drinks and cakes while ignoring Ted, who was scrolling through his phone messages. Luke chatted to the children until the waitress had brought everything over and when nobody seemed to be paying them any attention, Luke took the keys that Ted pushed across the table and slipped them in his pocket. The café was busy and he was confident nobody had seen anything.

  ‘So, remember the deal,’ Ted murmured, hardly moving his lips. ‘You take your kids and you go away.’ His voice was laced with annoyance, the only tone h
e seemed to be able to use in a conversation with Luke these days. ‘I don’t want to know where you’re going. In fact, it’s better if I don’t know. Then if the police ask, they’ll know I’m not lying when I tell them I have no idea where you are.’

  Luke didn’t reply, just gave a curt nod.

  Ted turned his back to the children, who were busy munching their way through enormous chocolate muffins. ‘You’ve put Ma and Da’s future at risk, put us all in danger, including the kids. So, the price for me sorting out your mess is, you stay away. Okay? For ever.’

  Luke glared at him, happy that today was the last time he would have to share the air that Ted breathed. There was a look in Ted’s eye, a tone to his voice that didn’t used to be there, and the way that he dominated the farm and everyone who lived there stirred a fury in Luke that he didn’t want to feel. His chest ached with the effort of keeping his emotions in check, silently cursing as a means of letting off steam. He didn’t feel quite so bad now about the risks that Ted was unknowingly taking. He was the fall guy, the backstop if things didn’t work out how they were supposed to. His mum had persuaded him that it was for the best, for the collective good of the family and anyway, she’d said, Ted needed to learn a lesson.

  Her words ran through Luke’s mind as he watched Ted pick up the rucksack, which contained the blood-spattered clothes and Luke’s phone, slinging it on his back as though it belonged to him. Luke let out a long breath, relieved that Ted was gone, that part of the plan completed, his hands shaking as he unpeeled the paper from his cake.

  ‘Why’s Uncle Ted so mad with us, Dad?’

  Luke forced himself to smile at Tessa, always the one with the emotional barometer firmly switched on.

  ‘Oh, that’s just the way he is, I guess, sweetie. An angry sort of a man. Nothing for you to worry about.’ He ruffled her hair and she smacked his hand away, but she was smiling. The first smile he’d had from her in weeks.

  This is the right thing, he told himself. This is best for all of us.

  They finished their drinks and headed off to the car park next to the train station, where it had been arranged that Ted would leave the hire car. Luke looked around for a moment and then spotted it parked at the back. A little blue Fiat. He checked the registration plate against the number printed on his keyring.

  ‘Come on, kids.’ He pointed to the car. ‘This is ours.’

  There was an envelope in the glove compartment and he tipped the contents out onto his lap, his pulse whooshing in his ears, hands still shaking a little as he checked that everything was there. You never knew with Ted; he could just as easily be leading him into trouble as helping him to get away from it.

  The new passports looked completely legitimate, provided by some dodgy bloke that Ted was mixed up with. A friend of a friend of a friend, he’d said. There was a thick wad of cash, enough to keep them going for a little while until he found some work. And the ferry tickets were there for the late sailing at half past eleven from Cairnryan, a ferry port just north of Stranraer in Dumfries and Galloway, over to Larne in Northern Ireland, booked in their new names. From there they would drive south to Cork, in the Irish Republic, and on to the smallholding a little further down the coast. Satisfied that everything was present and correct, Luke fumbled all the documents into the envelope and put it back in the glove compartment.

  He looked at Callum, who was sitting next to him, carefully watching what he was doing. He gave his son a quick grin, glanced in the rear-view mirror and caught Tessa’s eye. ‘All set? Ready for an adventure?’

  Neither of them said anything and he couldn’t blame them. The last time he’d said those very words, he’d landed them in Mel’s web of madness. This has got to work, he told himself as he set off, clear in his mind that he had no choice. It’s the only way we’ll ever be at peace.

  The M6 north of the Lake District was quite empty and they made good time, stopping at Dumfries to refuel. With hours to spare before they had to be at the port, they found a supermarket to stock up on food for the rest of the journey. They all had new baseball hats as a bit of a disguise, and Luke had bought them all new pay-as-you-go phones, so the kids could keep themselves busy with games. It was the least he could do after all the disruption and it gave him some quiet time to think as they drove.

  Ted’s words filled his mind, the warning that he wouldn’t be able to see his family again and something inside him snapped, tears welling in his eyes, his chest aching with the sense of loss. He had to hope now that his parents and Ceri could summon up the courage to play their part, but he was keenly aware that he’d put everyone in an impossible situation, given them dilemmas that they shouldn’t have to face. Nobody was going to be a winner here; in reality they would all lose something.

  He couldn’t blame Ted for his situation. He’d done it to himself, hadn’t he? By getting involved with Mel. He clasped the steering wheel tighter and told himself to stop being pathetic, because this was all about the children and they needed him to be strong. So that’s what he was going to be. Strong. He repeated the word in his mind until the lump in his throat dissolved and his tears dried. He used to be strong. He could be again; he would be because his children deserved nothing less. Anna deserved nothing less. And this was the only solution.

  Once they got out of Dumfries itself, the vast stretches of the Dumfries and Galloway forest rolled out for miles on either side of the road, the silhouettes of the mountains rising up in the distance against the night sky. They found a parking area, hidden from the road, with picnic benches and they sat there, eating their sandwiches by the light of the moon, listening to the sounds of birds and animals rustling and squawking and screeching around them.

  Luke felt safe here, hidden in the forest. He wondered if anyone had seen them, and ran through their journey in his mind. They’d only stopped a couple of times and there was only one person who might remember him, he thought. The guy at the petrol station who’d been getting himself a drink and heating up a burger while Luke had been waiting for the kids to use the loo. He’d tried to get Luke into conversation, had commented on his bonny kids, and Luke had given a cursory nod before hurrying Tessa and Callum out to the car.

  It’s okay, he told himself. It’s all okay.

  Forty-Two

  Saturday

  A pale winter sun was climbing into the sky as Luke drove out of Cork and towards their final destination. He was hyped-up on coffee, which he’d been drinking all night to keep him awake on the long and tedious drive, and he could feel his body trembling with the caffeine shakes. Night-driving was never pleasant but when you were in a strange place and nothing was familiar, it was even worse. He could have stopped, but he knew he wouldn’t rest if he did, because he had to know that everything was going to work out as he’d hoped.

  The children were still asleep when he pulled into the driveway; no more than a potholed track leading to a square yard in front of the house, which was separated from the road by a narrow field. His eyes were dry and sore, lack of sleep making him feel floaty and disconnected from his surroundings, and when he finally pulled to a halt he just sat for a while, hardly believing that he’d done it. He was here. Safe. He stared through the windscreen without seeing, numb with exhaustion, and it was a few minutes before he realised there was a light on in a downstairs window, a gentle glow behind the kitchen blinds.

  It took a moment for him to register what that meant. Then his eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face. They made it! As he stared at the door, it opened, and his mum stood in the doorway, apron on, looking as if she’d lived there all her life.

  ‘Luke!’ she screamed, and hobbled towards him.

  She was laughing, tears rolling down her cheeks as he clambered out of the car and ran to meet her, wrapping her in a hug.

  ‘Mum, you’re here!’

  His mum pushed away and beamed at him. ‘Yes, love, we’re all here. All present and correct, thanks to you. We couldn’t have done it without you, sweet
heart. We really couldn’t.’

  ‘Nana!’ Tessa called as she climbed out of the car, eyes still bleary in the early morning light. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here.’ She clung to Fay’s waist, and Fay stroked her hair, smoothing it away from the girl’s face.

  ‘I couldn’t let you leave us,’ Fay said. ‘Not when I’ve just got to know you. We’re all here now, anyway. One big family.’

  Tessa frowned and looked a little wary. ‘Even Uncle Ted?’

  Fay gave a tight smile. ‘No, love. Uncle Ted’s still at the farm.’ Fay glanced at Luke. ‘Plenty of time to talk about that later. Come on, let’s get you inside. Sort out some breakfast for everyone.’

  Luke watched his daughter slide her hand into his mother’s, then he turned and lifted a sleeping Callum out of the car. The boy mumbled, still drowsy. ‘Are we there, Dad?’

  ‘Yes, we are. And Nana and Pops are here. And Ceri and your cousins. This is going to be our home, for a while, all together.’

  Callum’s eyelashes fluttered, then his eyes opened, his face crumpled into a frown. ‘Mel’s not here, is she?’

  ‘No, son. Mel’s not going to be part of our lives anymore.’

  Callum sighed and his head relaxed against Luke’s chest. His black eye was starting to fade now, the edges a faint blur of green and yellow. It was a mercy, Luke thought, that black eye. Because if it hadn’t happened, he didn’t think he would have been able to shake himself out of his fear and denial. He’d wanted his relationship with Mel to work so much he’d become a different person, someone who hadn’t seen what was happening to his children. He’d wanted to have what he’d had with Anna, but he realised now that it would never have been the same. Mel wasn’t Anna. She was a chameleon, an actress, an expert manipulator. Worse. An abuser. Unable to control her anger, which flared up in an instant. It was her source of power, making everyone around her afraid, making them tiptoe around her emotions; a state of affairs that had suited her very well. And he’d been too ashamed of his situation to tell anyone what was really happening for far too long.