‘Please hold me. I’m really scared of the dark.’ Her voice mimicked a little child.
‘Then what the hell did you go into a pitch-dark chamber for?’ Sweat broke out on his forehead as his arms wound around her back, instinctively comforting her as he would Amy. He noticed the catch of her bra beneath his hands. ‘It’s OK. I’ve got you,’ he said. She was shaking. ‘Come on, let’s get back upstairs.’ If someone came down, it wouldn’t look good – them hugging in the cellar. What was he thinking?
‘But we didn’t do anything wrong,’ Rain said, as he led her back to the lit chamber.
No, we didn’t, Callum thought, making sure he kept his eyes firmly fixed on his feet as she went up the cellar steps in front of him. Otherwise, her tiny skirt would have been level with his face.
* * *
Dinner was perfect. Nick had cooked up a feast, and even Amy, who was usually picky with anything vaguely spicy, was wolfing down a plate of Moroccan lamb tagine. Rain just pushed a few vegetables around her plate, smearing the sauce to the edges.
‘You did it all so effortlessly, Nick,’ Maggie said. ‘If it were left to me, I’d still be in the supermarket turning in circles.’
‘It’s all about the ingredients. I never go to supermarkets,’ Nick replied. ‘Seasonal local produce is always best.’ He stood and went round the table with one of the wines he’d bought. ‘Here, try some of this, Callum.’
Callum put his hand over his glass. ‘No… thanks. I’ve already opened this one,’ he said. ‘Who’s for some of Patrick’s Rioja? Just one glass for me because I’m driving.’
‘Dad’s wine?’ Claire said.
‘Yes, from the cellar.’
‘But Nick chose some wine for this evening, darling.’ She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. Without Nick’s hard work they’d all be eating a sloppy Chinese takeaway.
‘Dad won’t mind,’ Shona said. ‘He has tons of the stuff. Best to get rid of it before he drinks it all.’
‘I know, but…’ Claire didn’t press further. She caught Nick’s eye and he mouthed It’s OK followed by a small smile. She allowed him to pour some of his wine into her glass and then he sat down next to her again. When his knee brushed against hers for longer than necessary, Claire pulled away. Whatever these indefinable feelings were, they needed to stop right now.
* * *
There was a knock on the door. ‘What?’ Rain was peering into the mirror. She slammed down her mascara and went to open the door.
‘You ready?’ Marcus was standing there, hands in pockets. He’d changed out of that grubby tee and put on a white shirt.
‘Du-uh.’ Rain glanced down at her dressing-gowned body.
‘How long?’
‘An hour.’
‘But Dad’s leaving in five minutes,’ Marcus said, looking pained. ‘If you’re not in the yard by then, you’ll get left behind.’ He turned to go but stopped briefly. ‘And don’t forget your ID.’
Shit, Rain thought on both counts. Her ID wasn’t exactly the best fake, and it was only her fast talking and eyelash-batting that had stopped her having it confiscated and cut up last time. The doorman had sent her on her way, telling her to come back in a few years.
She pulled her hair down from its messy ponytailed knot and threw her head forward. With a huge can of hairspray, she messed and ruffled and back-combed until her hair was a big mass of scrunched waves. Then she dug around in her holdall and pulled out her red and black bodycon dress. She stepped into it, wriggling and stretching until the clingy fabric had shaped itself around her. After a smear of lip gloss, she grabbed her bag but froze in the doorway. She went back into the bedroom and stared into the mirror, wondering why the girl looking back at her was a stranger.
‘You’re so fat, I hate you,’ she whispered, giving herself a dirty look. She swiped up her huge hoop earrings, hooking them in place as she ran down the stairs. She prayed the tears wouldn’t overflow and destroy what little make-up she’d had time to put on.
‘What I don’t get with girls,’ she overheard Marcus saying to his dad, ‘is why it takes them hours to get ready, yet when they’re in a hurry they can do it in five minutes.’
‘It had better be a good night,’ she said, scowling.
‘Don’t expect me to be giving you all a lift back in half an hour if it’s not.’ Callum took his car keys and the teenagers followed him out. ‘Here’s some taxi money for later.’ He handed Rain forty pounds. ‘Put it in your bag. Marcus will only lose it.’
‘Cheers, Dad,’ Marcus said, climbing into the front of the car. He caught sight of Rain in the wing mirror and rolled his eyes. They picked up two of Marcus’s friends along the way, one of whom Rain had met earlier. She still thought he was weird. Twenty minutes later Callum dropped them outside the house Marcus had told him the party was at. It was a residential street not far from the centre of Newquay.
‘Another seaside town pretending to be Ibiza,’ Rain said dismally, clutching her arms around her. It was cool now the sun had gone down.
Once Callum pulled away, she followed the boys back down the street towards the town. She couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder, making sure he hadn’t come back to check where they were going. The club was just off the main street and she flashed her ID at the doorman, who barely glanced at it. Inside, the pulsing beat and lights of the place made her feel a little better and the sweet boozy smell of the bar whet her appetite. Marcus leant in to ask what she was drinking.
‘Vodka and tonic,’ Rain shouted above the music. ‘Double.’ She watched as he pushed his way closer to the bar, then turned and headed for the dance floor. She reckoned it was as good a night as any to get wasted.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘Uncle Angus, Aunt Jenny,’ Claire said, grinning and opening her arms to them the next morning. ‘It’s so good to see you.’
They’d not been due to arrive until Monday but, hearing that Patrick had been in hospital, they’d changed their plans and come early. She hugged them and led them into the kitchen. ‘Mum will be down soon. I don’t think she slept too well.’
Claire had stayed the night with her mother at the farm on the pretext that there may be news from the ward. But really it was because she didn’t want to leave Shona alone. After Nick’s meal last night, they’d sat talking, drinking and reminiscing. Jason had taken Greta back to the Old Stables around ten as she was tired, and Claire asked if they wouldn’t mind taking Amy to bed too. Jason had obviously decided to turn in as well as he didn’t come back. The sea air always exhausted visitors. Callum, who’d had too much to drink, didn’t go back up to the Old Stables until around 2.30 a.m., saying he’d leave the door unlocked for Marcus and his mates. He had a knack of forgetting his keys.
‘Any news on Pat today?’ Jenny asked, rolling up the sleeves of her blouse. It was a beautiful morning and already getting warm.
‘Nothing yet. I’ll call the ward after nine.’ Claire made breakfast for her aunt and uncle, but she couldn’t help feeling a tug of sadness when she looked at Angus. He was a younger, healthier version of her father – his brother. He’d been a big part of her childhood, owning the village garage and petrol station before they’d moved away, and she’d spent many happy days serving at the pumps to earn pocket money in the holidays.
‘He’s a silly old bugger,’ Angus said, tucking into his breakfast. It was his way of showing concern. ‘Scaring us all to death like that.’
Shona joined them in the kitchen, holding out her arms fondly to her brother- and sister-in-law. ‘A silly bugger indeed,’ she said, catching their conversation. ‘It’s so good to see you both.’
Poor Mum, Claire thought, knowing how much she hated being separated from Patrick. She was as in love with him now as the day they’d met and had often said she couldn’t stand it if Patrick was the first to go. She reckoned she’d only be a short way behind him with a broken heart.
‘Callum doesn’t think discharge is likely to happen on a Sunday a
s he’ll need to see the consultant, who won’t be in until tomorrow.’ Claire hated seeing her mother’s face pale with disappointment. But when she phoned the ward an hour later, the news was not what they’d expected.
* * *
‘I can’t believe you didn’t hear all that noise in the night,’ Greta said, stretching out in bed. Jason had come back from the bathroom wrapped in a towel from the waist down. Half of him wanted to crawl back between the sheets with his wife – God he loved seeing her pregnant – but the other half wanted to know if there’d been any news about his father. Despite everything, it still mattered.
‘With the twins kicking and all that noise in the early hours, I hardly got any sleep.’ Greta dropped her head back down on the pillow, closing her eyes.
‘What noise?’ Jason hadn’t heard anything but that wasn’t unusual. Once he was asleep, he stayed that way.
‘Doors banging, giggling and laughter, then some kind of yelping or shouting. I went to the loo about half past five, but everything was silent by then.’
‘Stay in bed and I’ll make you some tea,’ Jason said, stepping into his jeans. He pulled on a T-shirt and left the bedroom, stopping on the landing to listen. All he could hear was soft snoring coming from Claire and Callum’s room, or possibly Marcus’s room. He couldn’t be sure. He suspected Greta had heard the kids coming back late, most likely a bit drunk, up to silly antics. Marcus’s friends were no doubt crashing here for the night. They’d have to get used to that themselves when the twins were teenagers, though he could hardly imagine a time so far in the future.
Russ greeted him with a thumping tail from his bed beside the Aga. Jason filled the kettle and put it on the hotplate, deciding to make Claire and Callum a cup too, knowing Claire would want to get to the hospital as soon as possible. He made toast for Greta because she was always hungry, and poured four mugs of tea, taking the whole lot upstairs on a tray. He put the tray on a chest on the landing, taking two of the mugs with one hand.
He pressed the latch of Claire’s bedroom door and gently eased it open. He didn’t want to wake them if they were still asleep. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he stopped in his tracks, forcing himself to remain silent despite his mouth dropping open and the rising gasp in his throat.
When he was able to move again, convinced he wasn’t imagining it, he slowly reached into his back pocket and took out his phone, flicked it to silent, before holding it out in front of him with a shaking hand. Then he left the bedroom, closing the door quietly. He put the mugs back on the tray and leant against the wall, not knowing what the hell he should do.
* * *
‘What do you mean, he’s discharged himself?’ Shona was suddenly on her feet.
‘That’s what the ward sister said. Got himself up first thing and told them he was off. She said they couldn’t stop him.’ Claire felt so sorry for her mother. It was no wonder she wanted to sell the farm.
‘So why didn’t they call us immediately? Where is he now?’
‘Good questions,’ Claire said. ‘The nurse wasn’t particularly helpful and wanted to get me off the phone.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose this means I’ll be driving around looking for him. Knowing Dad, he’ll be walking home and getting lost rather than phoning any of us.’
‘Dear God, please don’t let him walk. It’s absolutely miles. Perhaps he called a taxi,’ Shona said. ‘Stupid old fool.’ She cupped her face in her hands. ‘He refuses to carry the mobile phone I bought him months ago.’
‘I didn’t even know he had a phone,’ Claire said, rolling her eyes.
‘He told me he lost it,’ Shona replied. ‘I’ve searched everywhere, but I think he probably threw it in the sea or something.’ She felt guilty for not buying him another one, but knew the same would happen.
Angus drained his mug. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll go out and search for him. You two have had enough on your plates. Call me if he turns up. I’ll check in at the hospital too, make sure he’s not still wandering around the wards.’
Claire nodded, thanking Angus. As he left, she was distracted by Maggie, who’d come down for breakfast. Her eyes were ringed with last night’s make-up and she was wearing an old T-shirt and baggy tracksuit bottoms. Her hair stuck out in sleep-mussed clumps.
‘Morning all,’ she said, stretching and wincing. ‘One too many, I think.’ Claire filled her in on the news about Patrick. She’d give it a couple of hours, but would have to call the police if too much time passed.
‘Coffee?’ she said, handing Maggie a mug.
‘Thanks. I reckon that wherever Rain is right now, she’ll need a bucketload of this stuff to get her going.’ She laughed, wrapping her hands around the mug.
‘Isn’t she up in her room, then?’ Claire noticed the slightly concerned look in Maggie’s eyes.
‘No, she’s not.’ Maggie sat down at the table, her shoulders rounded as if there was a weight pressing down. ‘She didn’t come back last night.’
* * *
Jason sat on the bed while Greta ate her toast, crumbs falling onto her bump. ‘Quick, feel them kicking.’ She took his hand and pressed it against her side. ‘It’s an elbow or heel.’ She pushed the remainder of the slice into her mouth. ‘Thanks for this. You’re a star.’
‘Sorry?’ Jason said, suddenly aware that his hand had been placed on Greta’s belly. He could feel one of his babies doing cartwheels.
‘What’s up, Jase? You’ve been quiet ever since you came back upstairs.’
‘Nothing. I’m fine.’ He forced a smile. ‘I wonder what Claire has planned today.’ He sipped his tea. ‘There’s talk of a beach picnic. Maybe a meal out later.’ Jason swept back the curtains, aware he was gabbling. The sun streamed in through the window. ‘A beautiful day for a walk, look.’
‘Then why didn’t you ask her about plans?’ Greta said. ‘When you took her tea in just now?’
Jason paused, cup halfway to his lips. ‘She must have got up early. She wasn’t in bed.’
‘Maybe she was in the shower.’ Greta eyed the two cups of tea going cold on the tray. ‘Shall I take them in now?’ She made to get out of bed.
‘No, no, Callum was still asleep. I think he had… you know, a bit too much to drink last night, judging by the way he was snoring. Best leave it.’
Greta nodded slowly. ‘Is your dad still on your mind?’ she asked. ‘Is that why you seem distant?’ She knew him too well.
Jason nodded. ‘Yes, yes, you’re right. That’s it.’
‘I know I wasn’t a part of your life when you fell out with him, but don’t you think now would be a good time to make up, with all this hospital business?’
‘You’re probably right.’ Jason sighed into his mug, grateful for the change of tack. ‘But you know what he’s like.’
‘What he’s like, or what you’re like?’ Greta put a hand on his shoulder, pressing her fingers into the knotty muscle. ‘Do you know how poor we’d be if I held grudges and never made that phone call or sent that email to clients who’d pissed me off? What else is life about, Jase, if not maintaining relationships?’
Jason looked at his wife. She was beautiful, powerful and wise, but then his phone was buzzing in his back pocket so he answered it, relieved to see it was Claire. He listened intently as she told him how their father had walked out of hospital against medical advice.
‘Oh, and have you seen Marcus this morning?’ she asked, sounding concerned.
‘Hang on,’ he said, going across the landing to check his room. ‘He and his mates are dead to the world,’ he told her, almost hearing the relief down the line.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen Rain, have you?’ Claire continued. ‘Maggie said she didn’t come back last night.’
Jason stared out of the window, watching a lone cloud scudding across a clear sky. ‘No, sorry,’ he said. ‘I haven’t.’ Before he hung up, he told her that they’d be up to the farmhouse soon, though he couldn’t be sure the words came out entirely right.
&
nbsp; Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘See?’ The look of worry on Maggie’s face fell away. ‘I told you she’d be fine.’ She hugged her daughter as she teetered into Trevellin’s kitchen on ridiculously high heels. Maggie slipped her arm around her waist as if to show she approved of her behaviour. Rain was still wearing last night’s skimpy dress.
‘Was it a good party?’ Claire asked. She was frying bacon and glanced up.
Rain shrugged but didn’t say anything. She came up close to the range, her lips red, almost sore-looking – perhaps the remnants of last night’s lipstick.
‘Did you stay out all night?’ She couldn’t help asking, not ready to believe that Maggie would allow it.
‘That looks… greasy,’ Rain replied, peering into the pan. She went and poured a mug of coffee from the machine and sat silently at the table next to her mother, cupping her chin in her hands.
Claire turned, spatula in hand, trying not to appear wound up, even though she was. ‘But where were you all night, Rain?’ She knew Marcus would always come home, or phone if he was staying over with a friend. Besides, Callum had given them taxi money. And the thought of Amy staying out all night when she reached Rain’s age was abhorrent.
‘It’s fine, Claire…’ Maggie said, giving her a warning look.
She simply couldn’t understand why Maggie wasn’t concerned where her daughter had been or what she’d been up to. She’d already mocked her for checking with Jason that Marcus had made it back home OK. ‘If he’s not at home, then he’s somewhere,’ Maggie had said. What she failed to recognise was that in Claire’s world that ‘somewhere’ was exactly the same place Lenni had gone.
‘Just at a club,’ Rain said. ‘Had a few drinks, a dance.’ She felt the tears welling and dug her fingernails into her palms to stop them.
The Reunion: An utterly gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist Page 12
