by Susan Lewis
“No, but she can’t stay there forever, so it must be any day now.”
“OK, let me know if you hear anything.”
“Same goes for you. Enjoy the scarecrows,” and he was gone.
“Mother done a disappearing act?” Sallie Jo asked sardonically as they turned into the Academies’ grounds, where she’d come to drop off a bag one of the students had left at the café.
“It would appear so,” Justine replied, “but she can’t run away from it forever.”
“I hope not. It’s got us all crazed with curiosity, that’s for sure. I won’t tell you some of the things folks are saying, you won’t want to hear it, but David’s theory is that she comes every summer to meet a secret lover whose wife has some kind of disability so he can’t leave her.”
Justine shook her head and gazed around at the grand red-brick buildings with their smartly turreted roofs, so pristine and elegant they might have been built a mere decade ago rather than a century or more. The late afternoon sunlight was burnishing everything as golden as the changing leaves, lending it an almost illusory feel. She was mesmerized by the air of learning, the sense of privilege and history, achievement and authority that emanated like rainbows from the Huffington Library, the Dicke Hall of Mathematics, the Eppley Auditorium, the Vaughan Equestrian Center, the wavelike structure of the new rowing center. So many buildings, more facilities than she’d ever seen at a high school, and then there were the sports fields: football, polo, lacrosse, baseball, hockey, the golf course, sailing school, tennis courts…There seemed no end to the sheer magnificence of the place, sitting like a grand duke with his illustrious retinue of pupils and scholars on the banks of the legendary lake.
Would things have turned out differently if Ben and Abby had grown up here, gone to these Academies?
She wanted Lula to study here one day, and felt sure Matt would agree.
Waiting in the golf cart as Sallie Jo ran into a dorm building to deliver the lost bag, Justine tried to find the source of the music she could hear that seemed to be coming closer. At last the musician came into view, and she felt immediately entranced by the unexpected vision of a young female student, no more than sixteen or seventeen, walking beside the water playing the bagpipes so expertly she must have been playing them for years.
Abby would have been entranced too…
“OK, that’s done,” Sallie Jo declared, jumping back into the golf cart and starting the engine, “and with locations sorted for all six of our scarecrows when they’re ready, I reckon we can head back to find out how the mermaid’s coming along.”
As they drove Justine could feel the almost palpable air of excitement that was building around town now the festival was so close. People were stopping their cars all over the place to admire the scarecrows already in position, while giant bales of hay had appeared in the town park to create a straw pyramid for the children to climb. There was to be a bounce house too, and later would come the thrill of a haunted castle. Apparently everyone was signing up for a moonlight canoe paddle on the lake, and the free wine and cheese social at the old hardware store was sure to pull in the crowds. The weekend was crammed with so many events that Justine could only wonder how many Lula was going to fit in. Knowing her, she’d want to do everything from pumpkin painting to pony rides to dressing up Daisy for the pet-costume parade. She’d been talking about nothing else for days, and as Justine watched and listened and loved her with all her heart she was aware of the sadness inside her growing so heavy it was hard to bear. She longed to throw herself into the community, to be as much a part of it as she sensed Sallie Jo would like her to be, that Lula needed her to be, but if anyone knew the truth about her, if they had any idea, no one would want her there at all.
After arriving at Café Max and swapping the golf cart for Sallie Jo’s car, they drove on out past the cemetery and down to the lake before turning along the track toward Waseya.
“Who’s that by your mailbox?” Sallie Jo wondered as they drew closer.
Recognizing the older woman with neat gray hair and slightly stooped shoulders, Justine said, “It’s Elise Gingell, one of my neighbors.”
“Oh sure it is,” Sallie Jo realized. “Hey, Elise,” she called out, coming to a stop beside her. “Is everything OK?”
Turning round, the old lady broke into a friendly smile. “Everything’s fine, Sallie Jo. I was just leaving one of our newsletters for Justine.”
Sallie Jo muttered through her smile to Justine, “Good luck with that.”
“So sweet,” Justine muttered back as she got out of the car. Though she had a fairly good idea what the newsletter was about, her heart still sank when Elise put the leaflet into her hand: Marshall County Right to Life News.
“You’re very welcome to join us for our next monthly meeting,” Elise told her kindly. “I know I won’t be able to persuade Sallie Jo, but I’m hoping you’re someone who sees things our way.”
Before Justine could summon the right response, the old lady continued. “The meetings are the first Tuesday of each month at seven p.m. You’ll find us in the Laramore Room at Plymouth Public Library—”
“I’m sorry,” Justine broke in more forcefully than she’d intended, “but I’m afraid my views don’t correspond with yours.”
Elise blinked, as though not sure if she’d heard correctly. “Is it something you’ve really thought about, dear?” she asked in her sweet granny way.
“Enough to know that I can’t agree that every child, no matter what, has a right to life.” Why was she getting into this? She should have said she’d think it over and get back to her.
Apparently unruffled, Elise replied, “You’re thinking of rape and incest, I know, and they’re certainly powerful arguments against our cause, but let me say this to you, Justine, the Good Lord would not allow someone to fall pregnant if he did not want that child to be born.”
Before she could stop herself, Justine said, “And you know this because the Good Lord told you himself?”
Elise was still smiling. “What I know, because I’ve lived long enough to know, is that something good always comes from something bad, eventually.”
“Does it?” Justine snapped. “Does it really?”
Elise nodded.
“Well, I’m here to tell you that it doesn’t.” Hating herself for being mean to the old lady, while wanting to scream at the sheer, deluded naïveté of it all, she stalked off toward the house.
“What is it? Are you OK?” Sallie Jo asked worriedly, coming into the kitchen behind her.
“Sorry, I’m fine,” Justine replied, scooping up Daisy. “I just…I don’t know…” She broke off as she realized Sallie Jo wasn’t talking to her. She was looking at Petra, whose face was as white as the mermaid head she was holding. Justine’s insides turned to liquid. “What is it?” she demanded, starting through to Lula’s bedroom. “Where’s my daughter? Lula?”
“Petra! What’s going on?” Sallie Jo demanded.
“I don’t know,” Petra sobbed. “They were in there…”
“Lula!” Justine yelled, finding the bedroom empty. “Lula! Where are you? This isn’t a game.”
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Petra wailed.
“Are you saying they’re not in the house?” Sallie Jo barked.
“I—I don’t think so.”
Justine was opening every door and cupboard, searching under beds, even opening drawers. Her heart was thudding so violently she barely heard Sallie Jo ordering the girl to pull herself together and tell her what had happened.
“We were all here, in the kitchen,” Petra stammered, “then they said they were going into the bedroom…I could hear them in there talking…I carried on with the mermaid, expecting them to come back any minute. When they didn’t…I went to look for them, but they—they weren’t there.”
“How could they not be there?” Sallie Jo exclaimed angrily.
“The back door is still bolted from the inside,” Justine told them.
“I don’t know. I mean, it must be ten minutes…I was about to call you when you—you came back.” She looked terrified, and Justine was starting to feel the same way.
Sallie Jo marched into the bedroom. “There’s a window open in here,” she called out. “Did you leave it that way?” she asked Justine, returning to the doorway.
Justine shook her head. “Someone’s taken them,” she choked.
Sallie Jo stared at her fiercely. “I know what you’re thinking,” she told her, “but things like that don’t happen in Culver.”
“They happen everywhere,” Justine almost screamed, starting for the front door.
“Please calm down,” Sallie Jo implored. “They’ll be out here somewhere…”
“It’s dark,” Justine cried, almost falling down the steps. “They know they’re not allowed out alone after dark. Lula!” she shouted. “Lula, where are you?”
They searched everywhere—the garden, the woods, the lake shore—and they knocked on all the neighbors’ doors, but no one had seen them.
Justine couldn’t stop thinking about the email she’d tried to forget.
Someone knew where she was, and that someone now had Tallulah.
And Hazel.
Her voice was shredded with fear as she told Sallie Jo, “We have to call the police.”
It had been long enough now for Sallie Jo to agree. Taking out her cell, she dialed 911.
Five years earlier—Chippingly Vale, UK
Short of a police escort with blue flashing lights and outriders, or a private jet, or some sort of space shuttle, Justine and Matt were pulling out all the stops to make it home in time for Abby’s “massively important gig” as she’d described it in her text. The Black Diamonds totally mega band and want me as support at Komedia in Bath.
Apparently the mega band’s producer had been shown several of her YouTube clips and hadn’t wasted much time getting in touch.
Abby had been so thrilled to receive the call that as well as texting she’d rung her parents in the middle of the night in Sydney to shriek out the news.
“You’ve got to come. You so totally have to,” she’d informed them, clearly not prepared to take no for an answer.
So, no matter that Justine had been about to treat Matt to a much-needed holiday after a lengthy book tour of Australia and New Zealand, they’d canceled the luxury hotel in Tahiti, rearranged their flights, and would have made it back in time had the second leg of their journey not been subjected to a ten-hour delay.
“At least we tried,” Matt cried as Abby flounced off to her room the morning after the gig rather than welcome them home.
“You may as well go back now and have your holiday,” she shouted down the stairs. “No one needs you here. We can manage perfectly well without you.”
Matt and Justine looked at each other. “Great to be back,” he muttered sardonically.
Justine almost smiled. They were tired, fed up, and not at all in the mood for a fight with their tempestuous fifteen-year-old daughter.
“She’s making me feel guilty,” Matt complained.
Sighing, Justine walked around the suitcases and went to put on the kettle. “She’s good at that, especially where you’re concerned.”
“She didn’t even tell us how the gig went.”
“She didn’t give us the chance to ask.”
Matt looked worried. “She wouldn’t be in this kind of mood if it had gone well.”
Justine didn’t disagree, partly because she didn’t have the energy. “I wonder where your mother is?” she yawned, checking the time. Seeing it was just before midday, she decided Catherine was either pottering about a Sunday market somewhere locally, or perhaps she was over at Simon and Gina’s.
“Hey, Ben,” Matt said into his mobile, “just letting you know we’re back. Did you get my message about the delay? It turned into a heck of a long flight so I expect we’ll go to bed this afternoon. Give me a call when you get this.”
“Do you know where he is?” Justine asked.
Matt shrugged. “Upstairs, for all I know.”
Justine arched an eyebrow. “Great homecoming, huh?”
Laughing, Matt pulled her into his arms. “I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but thanks for coming with me. I’d have hated doing all that on my own.”
“I loved being there,” she assured him. “And was I really going to let you go Down Under for three whole weeks without me?” In truth he hardly ever made a long trip without her these days, not only because Hayley, his editor, was always too keen to accompany him if there was a chance he might be alone, but because he insisted that the only person he ever wanted to share new places and experiences with was his wife.
“It’s just a shame we didn’t get to Tahiti,” he sighed. “I was looking forward to having you all to myself on an exotic island for a week.”
“And we gave it up only to miss Abby’s gig. Maybe she’s right, we should get on a plane and go back.”
“If I could face an airport again, I would.”
After making a cup of tea, Justine said, “I should go upstairs and talk to her. If things didn’t go well last night, she might want a chat.”
“OK, I’ll sort out the luggage and try to find Mum.”
Hearing a car pulling up outside, Justine said, “That’s probably her. I’ll go and check.”
Finding her mother-in-law in the cobbled courtyard between the house and barns unloading at least half a dozen supermarket bags, Justine immediately pulled her into a hug. “How are you?” she said with a smile. “God, it’s good to see you.”
Patting her back, Catherine said, “I wanted to be here when you arrived, but it seems you’ve beaten me to it.”
“No matter. Tell me about the children—have they behaved themselves?”
Seeming to find the question amusing, Catherine replied, “I never have any trouble with them. That’s the best part of being a grandparent.”
“But three weeks is a long time.”
“I’ve done it before and I’d do it again.” She drew back to cup Justine’s face in her hands, and Justine was reminded of how much she loved this dear lady with her twinkly blue eyes and older, more feminine version of Matt’s smile.
“You look tired,” Catherine told her, “which is hardly surprising after that wretched delay, but don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control and Cheryl’s invited us all over to her place for a meal this evening.”
Relieved to hear that, and anxious to see her best friend and business partner since Cheryl’s marriage, never good, had lately bordered on total collapse, Justine said, “Did you get to Abby’s gig last night?”
“I’m afraid not. I’d already arranged to play bridge at Saffy Morgan’s and I didn’t want to let anyone down.”
“Of course not. Do you know how it went?”
“She hasn’t said. Well, actually, I haven’t seen her this morning. Is she up now?”
Justine’s tone was wry. “Sort of. How about Ben? Have you seen him?”
“No, he was off and out early, didn’t say where he was going or what time he’d be back.”
“Did he take the dog?”
“Oh, no, Simon came for Rosie a couple of hours ago to take her for a run on the common. I expect they’re in the pub by now.”
Suspecting the same, Justine hugged Catherine again and began helping her in with the shopping. Quite how they’d have managed without her these last few years Justine had no idea, for Matt’s research and publicity trips had become more frequent as his books had grown more successful, and Justine would never have been able to accompany him had Catherine not retired from the hospice, leaving her free to take care of the children. Of course, if it was during school holidays they took Abby and Ben with them, Catherine too, if she wanted to come, but more often than not they found themselves traveling alone.
As for the running of Portovino Caterin
g, it was so established and well-staffed now that Justine and Cheryl had worked out a system whereby they could easily stand in for each other with the help of the senior managers. This meant that Cheryl got just as many breaks as Justine, though she didn’t usually go as far—either to her stepmum and dad’s cottage in Burgundy with Chantal, or to Maddy and Ron’s villa in Spain, also with Chantal, while Brad, grumpy as ever, generally did his own thing with his family in London.
“Hey, you,” Matt virtually crooned as his beloved mother came in the door, and whisking the shopping from her hands he pulled her into a bruising bear hug. “How are you? God, it’s good to see you,” he enthused, echoing Justine.
“Mm, I imagine you missed me every minute of the day,” Catherine teased with a wink at Justine. “Did the festivals go well?”
“He was a triumph,” Justine assured her. “And we loved Australia. Actually, maybe we loved New Zealand more. Whatever, the whole family has to go next time. Everyone’s so friendly over there, the scenery is like nothing you’ve ever seen before, the food is out of this world, and don’t get me started on the wine.”
“Started?” Matt scoffed. “We could never get you off it. You should have seen her…”
“Don’t listen to him,” Justine laughed, flipping his arm. “Now, what we really want to know is what’s been happening here.”
Catherine threw out her hands. “But I told you in my daily emails,” she protested.
“Yes, but have you been holding anything back? Something we need to deal with?”
Catherine rolled her eyes. “We’re all grown-ups now,” she reminded Justine. “Or the children like to think they are, and they’re really no trouble.”
Justine regarded her skeptically. Knowing her two as well as she did, “no trouble” seemed a little unlikely. “So everything’s OK at school?” she prompted warily.
