The Mum Hunt

by Gwyneth Rees

  ‘I don’t know whether it’s worse for a boy to grow up without a mother, or worse for a girl,’ he was saying. ‘Sometimes I feel Matthew seems to be taking it harder than Esmie and I wonder if it’s because he actually experienced the loss of her. Whereas Esmie never knew her . . . But then I worry that Esmie will need a female role model in her life more and more as she gets older. I mean, who has she really got now? Neither of her grandmothers are around that much.’

  ‘She has Holly’s mother,’ Juliette said, slowly. ‘And she has me.’

  Dad didn’t speak for a moment or two. ‘She’s grown very attached to you, Juliette . . . so attached that I find myself . . . despite all our disagreements . . . hoping that you can stay in her life.’

  I held in my breath. What was he saying? That he didn’t want Juliette to leave? That he wanted her to remain with us as part of our family? Well, the only way for him to ensure that, was to ask Juliette to marry him, just like the Captain had asked Maria . . .

  ‘I would very much like to stay in her life – and be more to her than just an au pair,’ Juliette answered.

  I couldn’t hear what Dad said in reply to that because he mumbled it as he took another gulp of wine. As I heard him walk towards the door, I quickly slipped upstairs again so that he wouldn’t know I’d been listening.

  But back in my own room, I could hardly control my excitement. The two of them had been talking like people who were planning a future together. Juliette wanted to stay in my life, not as my au pair but as . . . what? My mother? If that was the case, then it could only mean one thing: that if Dad did ask her to marry him, she’d say yes!

  ‘I listened to Dad’s messages again just now,’ Matthew said, when we were alone in the kitchen the following evening. ‘There was a new one and she sounds pretty nice. Her name’s Elizabeth.’

  ‘Matthew, don’t you think we should just forget the idea of fixing Dad up with a lonely-hearts lady?’ I said, trying to sound casual about it.

  Matthew grinned. ‘What – because Dad and Juliette are really in love, only they don’t realize it yet?’

  I gasped. I’d had no idea that my brother had been thinking the same thing as me.

  ‘I heard you on the phone to Holly the other night,’ he added, grinning. ‘My sister, the matchmaker! Listen, I’ve got something to show you. Wait here . . .’ He ran upstairs to his room and came down again a few minutes later with a piece of paper in his hand. ‘This is the message from Elizabeth.’

  ‘But Matthew, what about Dad and Juliette?’ I demanded.

  My brother pulled a face. ‘Juliette would have to be out of her mind. I mean, Juliette’s gorgeous and Dad’s . . . well . . . he’s Dad, isn’t he?’

  ‘Juliette told me she thought he was handsome,’ I said, stubbornly.

  ‘Really?’ Matty shrugged. ‘Well, hey . . . there’s no accounting for some people’s taste. But I still reckon this Elizabeth sounds right up his street. And she’s old too – she’s thirty-eight – so she’s not going to worry about him being ancient, is she?’ He waved his piece of paper at me. ‘Do you want to hear what she said?’ He lifted an imaginary telephone to one ear and put on a sexy female voice. ‘Hello. My name’s Elizabeth. I wouldn’t usually answer one of these adverts but yours sounded intriguing. I speak fluent French and I love classical music. Oh, and I must confess that I have a bit of a thing about police detectives. Are you anything like Inspector Morse . . . ?!’

  I wondered why he’d stopped and then I noticed that Dad had come into the room and was standing listening too.

  ‘Dad,’ my brother gulped, ‘this lady sounds really nice. She speaks French and she likes classical music and Inspector Morse and . . .’ He trailed off.

  ‘Really?’ Dad said, continuing to stare at him coolly. ‘Well I’m sure Inspector Morse would be delighted to meet her.’

  ‘She was probably just joking about Inspector Morse, Dad,’ I put in, quickly.

  ‘Yes,’ Matthew added, nodding vigorously. ‘The way she said it was really very . . . very witty. You know. Sardonic. Her message is still there if you want to listen to it.’

  ‘Matthew . . . Esmie . . . I’m warning you. Stop interfering.’

  ‘Look, I’m pinning her details to the fridge, OK?’ Matthew said, adjusting our tropical fruit fridge magnets accordingly. ‘You might change your mind about calling her.’

  ‘I won’t change my mind,’ Dad said, firmly.

  I looked at Dad, approvingly. He obviously didn’t really want to meet anyone new. But just how much longer was it going to take him to realize that he’d already met the woman of his dreams?

  I hoped Juliette might get jealous when we told her about Elizabeth, but instead she got all excited about her.

  ‘She still doesn’t seem to realize that she’s really in love with Dad herself!’ I told Holly. I’d already filled her in on the conversation I’d overheard the night before and Holly had agreed with me that it was better to leave them to their own devices for a bit, rather than risk scaring them both off completely. Now I was on the extension in Dad’s bedroom, whispering urgently into the phone as I gave Holly an update on the latest developments.

  ‘Juliette must be in an even stronger state of denial than we first realized,’ Holly said, solemnly. ‘She’s obviously going to have to see your dad with another woman, before it sinks in. Maybe if she sees your dad with this Elizabeth . . .’

  We decided that the best thing for me to do was to go back downstairs to find Juliette and Matthew and join in their scheming.

  ‘No way!’ was Matthew’s first reaction when Juliette revealed her latest idea.

  Juliette reckoned Matthew should phone Elizabeth, putting on the same deep voice he’d used for the advert, and pretend to be Dad. ‘She will not know the difference. All you will need to do is arrange a time and place to meet her. Then it will be simple for us to take your father there without telling him the truth until we get there. And then we just leave them together.’

  ‘Yeah, and when Dad finds out I’m going to be toast!’ Matthew protested.

  ‘Toast?’ Juliette looked confused as if she couldn’t see what was nasty about toast. I don’t think she’d grasped the bit about starting out as bread and then getting grilled.

  ‘Dead meat!’ I added, to clarify things.

  ‘Pardon?’ Juliette looked even more confused.

  ‘What Esmie means, Juliette,’ Matthew said, ‘is that when Dad finds out he’s going to commit his very own murder in this house and I’m going to be the victim!’

  Juliette waved her hand at us dismissively. ‘Your father will not be angry with you after he has met this Elizabeth and fallen in love with her. Unless she is horrible, of course, and he has a horrible evening with her. Then he will be angry but he will get over it!’ She gave my brother a sly smile. ‘Surely, Matthew, you are not so afraid of him as all that!’

  I looked at my brother, expecting him to protest that he wasn’t afraid of Dad at all. But he just said, coolly, ‘Nice try, Juliette. Listen, when Dad goes ballistic it’s not gonna be your butt on the receiving end of it, is it?’

  Juliette rolled her eyes in despair. ‘So English,’ she said. ‘Not to take even the slightest little risk. I mean, why try and make anything different happen in your life when you could have everything staying exactly the same? Matthew, you are just like your father!’

  Matthew flushed. ‘I’m nothing like Dad!’

  ‘Like father, like son!’ Juliette declared, warming up. She looked at me as if we were suddenly conspirators against Matthew. ‘Esmie is different.’

  ‘Juliette, I am not like him!’ Matthew snapped, his eyes flashing in anger.

  Juliette shrugged. ‘It is nothing to be ashamed of. To take after your father. There are worse things than being a person who conforms and does not take risks.’ She smiled at me. ‘You and me, Esmie, we are not so conventional. We are not like your brother, always doing the safest thing.’

  ‘That’s
not true!’ Matthew snarled. ‘I do not always do the safest thing! I’m always in trouble! Esmie’s the one who’s always sucking up to Dad with her good-little-girl act!’

  ‘I am not!’ I kicked him on the shin.

  He kicked me back, harder.

  I went to grab him but Juliette got in the way. ‘Stop it! I do not want you fighting! Stop it – both of you!’

  ‘You don’t know everything, Juliette!’ Matthew shouted at her. ‘You’re not our mother, OK?! You think you’re always right about us, but you’re not!’

  I stared at him. Why was he so upset all of a sudden?

  Juliette was looking a bit surprised too. ‘Even your mother would not always be right about you,’ she said. ‘All I am saying is that I do not think you are someone who likes to take risks. But maybe I am wrong?’

  ‘Yeah – you are wrong!’ Matthew snapped. ‘Just watch me, OK?’ And he pushed past us out of the room.

  Juliette doesn’t know Matthew like I do. She didn’t believe he would do anything really silly just to prove his point, but I know him better than that. And what happened next made me forget all about our Lonely Hearts Project.

  Friday evening, it was just Dad and me at home. Dad had been going out to a dinner party but he’d decided to cancel at the last minute. Juliette had tried to persuade him not to, but he’d said he was too tired and that he was sick of dinner parties full of couples. He’d had a bad day at work, he said, and the last thing he needed was to have to make small talk all evening.

  ‘He is feeling sorry for himself,’ Juliette said, sounding very sympathetic, which I found confusing because I always thought that to feel sorry for yourself was a bad thing, not an endearing one. ‘You must be very nice to him tonight, Esmie,’ she added.

  ‘I’m always nice to him,’ I said, indignantly. ‘It’s Matthew who’s not!’ I was the only one staying in with Dad because by that time Juliette had arranged to go out dancing with one of her friends since she was no longer required to babysit and Matthew had already left for Jake’s house.

  Matthew was meant to be home by ten o’clock and when he still hadn’t arrived by half-past, Dad phoned Jake’s place and there was no reply. Dad immediately started to get jumpy, and I could tell he was worried that something had happened to him. Dad gets even more overprotective of Matthew and me when he’s working on a murder case, though he never admits that to us. I think he likes us to think we couldn’t possibly get murdered in a million years – which is difficult when he’s always acting like he thinks we’re going to get murdered the very next day if we don’t watch out.

  He sat with a mug of coffee, checking his watch and frowning as we waited for my brother to get back.

  ‘Shall we go and look for him?’ I suggested, trying to be helpful. I knew Matthew was probably just staying out late on purpose because he reckoned he needed to show Juliette that he was capable of taking risks after all, but I couldn’t tell Dad that. If I did then I might get Juliette into trouble.

  ‘I wouldn’t have a clue where to look for him, Esmie – and he knows it,’ Dad said.

  ‘You would if you’d let him have another mobile,’ I pointed out. Matthew had lost his first mobile phone three weeks after he’d got it and he’d had the second one stolen when he’d left it in the changing rooms at school. Dad had been cross with him for being so careless and had refused to buy him another. He looked like he was regretting that now.

  ‘Knowing him, he probably wouldn’t have it switched on anyway,’ Dad grunted.

  ‘Don’t worry, Dad,’ I attempted to reassure him. ‘He’s probably just being naughty and staying out late with his friends. He won’t have had an accident or anything.’

  ‘An accident?’ Dad said, anxiously. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. The hospital would phone if he’d ended up there, though, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘He’ll be all right, Dad,’ I said, going over to give him a hug.

  ‘Well, he won’t be when I get hold of him,’ Dad replied, squeezing me in return.

  Eventually Dad sent me to bed and I’d fallen asleep by the time my brother finally rang. Dad came upstairs to wake me up. It was nearly midnight and apparently Matthew had missed the last bus and didn’t have any money for a taxi.

  ‘Where is he?’ I asked, sleepily.

  ‘At a party with Jake and some others,’ Dad said. ‘I’ve told him to wait there for me to come and fetch him. Juliette isn’t back yet either. Goodness knows what she’s up to.’

  Since Dad won’t ever leave me in the house on my own, he made me get out of bed, put my coat on over my pyjamas and go out with him to the car. ‘Why can’t I just stay in the house?’ I yawned, grumpily, as I slid into the back seat and lay down in order to go straight off to sleep again.

  ‘Sit up and put your seatbelt on.’ Dad sounded very tense, and I decided it was best not to complain any more.

  We hadn’t yet reached the community hall in town, where the party had been, when we spotted Matthew walking along the street towards us. He was all alone. ‘I’ll kill him!’ Dad muttered, slowing down.

  I started to wake up. Matty getting into trouble with Dad often has a sort of stimulating effect on me. I think it’s because it always makes me feel very good in comparison.

  Dad stopped the car with a jerk and leaned over to open the front passenger door. ‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’

  Matthew pulled his door shut behind him. He looked wrecked. ‘It’s OK, Dad,’ he muttered. ‘Nothing’s happened!’

  ‘It’s what could have happened!’ Dad snapped. ‘How dare you disappear off without telling me where you’re going? And how dare you disobey me when I tell you to be home by ten o’clock!’

  ‘We . . . we sort of forgot about the time,’ my brother mumbled.

  Dad leaned closer and sniffed his breath. ‘Have you been drinking?’

  ‘No!’

  Dad gave him a look that made him flush. Dad hates us lying to him when he’s telling us off. It always gets him even angrier. ‘You’re grounded,’ Dad said.

  ‘No, Dad!’ Matthew exclaimed. ‘Look – I only had a couple of cans that Jake had with him. And I phoned you to come and get me, didn’t I? Just like you’re always telling me to!’

  ‘Yes – and then you start walking home on your own instead of waiting where I told you to wait!’

  ‘Come on, Dad!’ my brother burst out. ‘I could just as easily have got murdered waiting for you outside that place! Everyone else had gone home and there’s an alleyway just along the side of the building that’s really dark. Anyone could’ve been hiding in there with a knife or something!’

  Dad wrestled with the gearstick in a way that made me think that my brother wasn’t saying exactly the right sort of thing. ‘What about your friends?’ he demanded, abruptly. ‘Couldn’t you have asked them to wait with you?’

  ‘And tell them what? That I was scared? Dad, they’d never let me hear the end of it. Besides, I wasn’t scared . . .’ He glanced backwards at me and I knew he was making sure I understood that he wasn’t scared of anything.

  Dad didn’t answer for a few moments. It was very quiet in the car. And then he exploded. ‘Believe me, sonny, if you saw the things I have to go and see, you would be scared! I think, it couldn’t happen to my kids! My kids don’t walk about the streets late at night! I always know where my kids are! And they’re sensible! They know the dangers. I’ve told them a million times! Oh, no,’ he hissed. ‘I’ll never have to go through what those families go through when some copper knocks on their door to tell them it’s their kid’s body out there!’

  I sat cringing in the back seat. I’d never thought before about Dad having to go and speak to the relatives of murdered people. I tried to imagine what I would say if I had to go and speak to them. I couldn’t even imagine what you could say except that you promised to catch whoever had done it before they did the same thing to somebody else. Only so far, with his latest case, Dad hadn’t.

  Mat
thew said, in a tense, tight voice, ‘If you can’t handle it, you should do another job.’

  And that’s when Dad screeched the car over to the kerb, just like they do in those detective programmes on the TV, lifted his hand and smacked him. Matthew cowered away with his arm up, as if to protect himself from what was coming next, but there wasn’t anything. I couldn’t see his face. Dad’s breathing was heavy.

  ‘Don’t worry, Dad!’ I cried out. ‘You’ll catch him! You’ll catch him and everything will be all right.’

  And you couldn’t hear anything in the car after that except me crying.

  As soon as we got home Matty went straight to his room and slammed the door.

  I started to say, ‘Dad—’ but he interrupted me.

  ‘Back to bed, Esmie,’ he said, without looking at me. ‘Now.’

  I went to bed but I didn’t go to sleep. I couldn’t. I think I was afraid that if I did then our family would fall apart during the night or something. I looked at my mother’s photo for help but as usual she just smiled back at me as if everything was fine. I listened extra hard, but I couldn’t hear her voice.

  I got up and went downstairs. Dad was in the living room. I peeped inside and saw him lying back on the sofa. Then I saw him wipe his eyes as if they were damp. I wanted to go to him and tell him how much I loved him but he suddenly sat up and looked full of energy again. I darted into the kitchen so he wouldn’t see me as he headed upstairs. And when I crept upstairs a few minutes later, the bathroom door was shut and I could hear him running himself a bath.

  I went back inside my room and listened until the bath water stopped running. Then I heard another noise. It was coming from Matthew’s room. It sounded like he was crying. Matty acts like he’s really tough half the time, like he doesn’t need Dad at all, but I don’t think that’s true really. Because whenever he and Dad have a really big row and Matty ends up being sent upstairs, Matty gets this look on his face as if, I don’t know, as if Dad’s banished him from his life for ever instead of just sending him to his room. And now that Dad had actually hit him . . .