Juliet’s head whirled. Dyson? Dilys’s husband? His name was Cyril, wasn’t it? Well, then, who the hell was Dyson and what was he doing dying in her house? She glanced fearfully over Dilys’s shoulder, half expecting to see a couple of grim-faced policemen wielding walkie-talkies and scribbling in notebooks. Had there been a police car outside the house, or an ambulance? She didn’t think so but she’d been in a bit of a trance so there could have been.
Bloody hell, this was all she needed! Dropping her hold-all, she exhaled sharply. She felt fuzzy, as if she was going to faint, and then it occurred to her that her brain was playing tricks and perhaps she’d already done the coming home bit and had gone to bed, and now she was in the middle of some barmy dream.
‘Ju? Is that you?’ Andrea’s voice sliced through her consciousness. It seemed to come from above.
Juliet closed the front door behind her, pressed past Dilys and peered up the stairs. Andrea stood at the top, an apparition in a carelessly tied white dressing gown.
‘Yes, it’s me.’ Juliet’s voice seemed to her to be coming from a million miles away, but at least she knew she wasn’t dreaming now. ‘Hang on a minute.’ She turned round.
‘Dilys, what are you talking about? What on earth’s happened?’
‘You may as well know the worst,’ Dilys said, heavily.
She was doing that nodding thing again. Juliet followed its general direction, then noticed the vacuum cleaner leaning drunkenly half way up the stairs, its cable snaking through the banisters and half a ton of grey fluff mushrooming out of its canister like a nuclear cloud.
‘Oh, that Dyson!’
‘Yes, I’m really sorry, Mrs C. There was a terrible grinding noise and a rubbery smell and then it just went dead. I’ve tried to mend it but nothing doing. Tell you what, I’ll take it with me and get my Cyril to have a look.’
Juliet felt almost weightless with relief. ‘No, Dilys, it’s probably burned out. These things only have a limited life. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.’
Juliet had a wild vision of Dilys riding her bike home with the vacuum cleaner strapped to her handle-bars – or possibly to her back as she hadn’t seen Dilys’s bike outside.
Dilys still looked stricken. ‘But these things don’t grow on trees, do they?’
‘It’s fine, Dilys, really. I’ll nip down to Argos on Monday and get a new one.’
It took an age before Juliet managed to cajole Dilys into going home, having given her umpteen assurances that she would clear up the mess on the stairs with a dustpan and brush.
‘Well, if you’re really sure.’ Dilys lumped the Dyson down the stairs and stood it by the hall cupboard. ‘Only I should get Barley and Mow back. Their mum’ll be wondering where they’ve got to.’
Dilys padded towards the kitchen, leaving Juliet completely bewildered and nearly on her knees with tiredness. She clutched the banisters for support. Barley and Mow? She hadn’t come home at all, had she? This wasn’t number eleven Clifton Gardens. She must have fallen down a rabbit hole and ended up in Wonderland – or La-La Land. She shook her head, as if to shake some sense into it, as Dilys emerged from the kitchen clutching a couple of leads, on the ends of which were two little white dogs, each with a tan patch above one eye, stumpy tails wagging madly.
Ah. Dily’s dog-walking operation. That explained absence of bike.
She closed the front door after Dilys and leaned against it, eyes closed, for a minute, then tottered to the kitchen, filled a large glass with water from the tap and knocked it back in one. Through the window she spotted Sidney hunched between two plant pots, clearly in the throes of a major sulk. She went out and fetched him.
‘Poor Sid.’ She stroked his ears. ‘Never mind. The nasty doggies have gone now.’
Setting the cat down, she took half a tin of tuna from the fridge and forked it into his bowl, then shook some of his biscuits on top. She stood and watched while Sid chewed and crunched away if he hadn’t eaten for weeks. He couldn’t have had any breakfast – his bowl had been clean. Then she remembered Andrea. What was she doing in her dressing gown at this hour, anyway?
Andrea was still on the landing when Juliet reached the top of the stairs, puffing from the effort of carrying her bag. Andrea looked distinctly on edge.
‘Why are you back so soon, and where’s Gray?’ Andrea bent forward to peer over the banisters. Her dressing gown fell open. She clutched it to her, but not before Juliet noticed that she was completely naked underneath.
‘And how very nice it is to see you, too, Andrea. If you must know we had a row and I left him behind, and that’s all you’re getting for now because I haven’t got the strength to give you chapter and verse. Why aren’t you dressed, anyway?’
If Andrea was about to have a bath, she had another think coming because Juliet couldn’t wait another second to jump in the shower.
‘I was having a lie in.’
‘What, until this hour?’
‘Yes, why not?’ Andrea flicked blue eyes at Juliet then lowered her gaze to the carpet.
Juliet shrugged. ‘Well, at least you aren’t clogging up the bathroom, which is good because it’s mine for the next ten minutes, right?’
‘Right.’ Andrea turned to go back to her room.
‘Hang on a sec – where’s Rachel?’
Andrea turned round. ‘Ah,’ she said, her eyes casting vaguely about as if she expected Rachel to materialise out of the skirting board. Juliet’s heart pumped faster.
‘What do you mean, “Ah”? Andrea, where is she? Where’s my daughter?’
‘It’s all right, Ju. She’s at her friend’s. I was supposed to have picked her up this morning but I got a bit sidetracked.’
‘A bit sidetracked? What do you mean, you were supposed to pick her up this morning? What time did she go, for heaven’s sake?’
‘Erm, last night. There was a party, well, not a party party, more of a sleepover, but she’s fine, Ju. Look, I’ll just get dressed and then I’ll pop off and get her.’
All Juliet’s nerve ends shrieked at once. She felt hot and sick. In love – or in lust - Andrea might be, and slightly off the wall with it, but Juliet had never imagined she couldn’t be trusted to behave like a responsible adult while she was in sole charge of the most precious thing in Juliet’s life, her daughter.
‘Where were you meant to pick her up from? Sarah’s house? Is that where she went?’
‘Yes, I think so...’
‘You think so?’ Juliet grabbed Andrea by the shoulders. ‘Andrea, where was this sleepover? Where did you take Rachel last night? You must know, surely!’
‘Ow, you’re hurting!’
Juliet let go, her heart beating painfully fast. ‘Just answer the question.’
‘I didn’t take her. Sarah’s mum came and collected her, or it might have been her dad. I wasn’t looking.’
Juliet clapped a hand to her forehead. ‘So she’s at Sarah’s, or so you think. Go and phone. The number’s programmed in. Tell her to stay right where she is and I’ll be over to fetch her in fifteen minutes. Now do you think you can manage that? I’m just nipping in the loo.’
When Juliet emerged from the bathroom, Andrea was half way up the stairs clutching the phone. ‘There’s no answer.’
‘I’ll just have to go straight over there then.’
‘Is there anything I can do, Ju?’
‘Oh, I think you’ve done more than enough already, don’t you? And the next time I leave you in charge – not that there’ll be a next time - try not to lose my daughter, will you?’
Juliet turned to go to her bedroom. She would just change into her flat shoes and then ... She stopped. There was a sound coming from the direction of Andrea’s room – the unmistakable sound of male snoring.
Spinning round, she stared at Andrea who seemed not to be breathing.
‘Oh no. Oh no, Andrea, you haven’t!’
‘Juliet, I’m so sorry. I didn’t intend for him to stay over...’
‘He stayed
over? In my house? After all you said?’
‘I know, but I thought it wouldn’t do any harm, just this once while everyone was away. It was only meant to be for a few hours but the time slipped away and then before we knew it, it was morning. I was just about to turf him out when Dilys turned up so I couldn’t, and then he fell asleep. Oh, Ju, I’m so sorry!’
Juliet took a deep breath. She was wasting precious time here. She put her face close to Andrea’s. ‘Just make sure he’s out of here by the time I get back!’
She would deal with Andrea later, after she’d retrieved Rachel.
Grating the gears, Juliet roared up the Gardens, flinging the Beetle a shade too widely round the corner and earning herself a derisive glare from a passing male motorist, who earned himself a most unladylike gesture in return.
The Schofields’ house seemed remarkably quiet as Juliet arrived, panting, on the doorstep and leaned on the bell. Eventually, the door was opened by Sarah’s father, barefoot and looking somewhat dishevelled in crumpled t-shirt and shorts, the dark circles round his eyes suggesting he’d had a very late night.
‘Oh, Finn, is Rachel here?’
Finn took a long drag on his cigarette, flapped ineffectually at the smoke that belched from it, then peered at Juliet as if he was having trouble remembering who she was.
‘Rachel? No, she’s not here.’ He shook his head bemusedly.
Juliet’s nerves twittered. ‘Are you sure? Didn’t she stay over with Sarah last night? Where’s Kate?’ She peered through the smoke into the empty hallway, then stepped back, scanning the upstairs windows. Oh God, where was she? Where was Rachel?
‘Kate’s out. Gone to London for the day with a friend. Sarah – now, where’s Sarah?’ Finn drew thoughtfully on his cigarette. ‘Oh yes, she went to a sleepover somewhere.’
‘Where? Whose house?’
Finn scratched his head. ‘No, sorry. Can’t remember.’
Juliet was practically dancing up and down with frustration. ‘You must remember! Didn’t you pick Rachel up from our house and drop her and Sarah somewhere?’
Finn put his head on one side and stroked his chin. Juliet couldn’t tell if he was thinking hard or winding her up for the fun of it. ‘No, no, I don’t believe I did,’ he said, eventually. ‘Kate might have taken them, or they might have been picked up by someone else. I really couldn’t say. Why, does it matter?’
‘Yes, of course it matters - I need to find my daughter!’
Despair clutched at Juliet’s throat. Were there no responsible parents apart from her and... apart from her? She was beginning to think not.
Sarah’s father smiled. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. They’ll be having a whale of a time. They’ll come home when they’ve had enough or they want feeding. I was about to make some tea. Would you like some?’
Tea? How could he sit and drink tea when he obviously had no idea where his daughter was, any more than she did hers? He was standing aside now, holding the door open, his expression saying he thought she was as mad as cheese but he may as well indulge her a little longer.
She had a thought. ‘Sarah’s got a mobile, hasn’t she? Could you give it a ring, see if you can track them down?’
Finn seemed to take a while to digest this notion. Juliet sneaked a look at the cigarette that he was holding down by his side. It looked all right, and the smoke smelled ordinary enough.
‘Right. Come in.’
Juliet followed him to the kitchen and watched in amazement as he padded nonchalantly over to a vintage American juke-box and pressed a button. Lights flashed and the arm came alive, depositing the record smoothly on the deck. Elvis. Juliet’s stomach hit the deck with it. Did this man not recognise an emergency when he saw one?
‘The phone?’
‘Ah, yes.’ He held up a finger, then began burrowing under a pile of newspapers covering the surface of the island unit. Eventually he retrieved the handset and punched in a number. Immediately a pop tune began to give Love Me Tender a run for its money. Juliet picked up Sarah’s phone from a stool and switched it off. She was about to suggest Finn phoned Kate but that would probably take him ages as well and knowing her luck, Kate’s phone wouldn’t be switched on.
She took a deep breath. She must stop panicking – it only made things worse and stopped her thinking clearly. If she just calmed down and applied some logic to the situation she might be able to work out where her daughter was.
So far, Rachel had only stayed over at the houses of her closest friends. Sarah eliminated, that left Nisha, Debbie and River. Nisha, as far as she knew, wasn’t allowed sleepovers and Debbie’s mother wouldn’t dream of it unless she’d made firm arrangements with Juliet in advance, which left River. Of course! If she’d gone to River’s house, that would explain the vague, or rather the complete absence of, proper arrangements.
‘Could it have been River Matthews, the friend they stayed over with?’
Finn considered this. ‘Ah yes, now, I do remember thinking the name had an environmental ring to it.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, in a voice heavy with sarcasm.
He grinned. ‘Glad to have been of help.’
16
Rachel flung her rucksack on the back seat and banged the passenger door shut.
‘Andrea did say I could go.’
‘Yes, I don’t doubt it. You also heard me tell Andrea that she had to know where you were at all times and that you were to be home by nine-thirty – in the evening, that is – in which case, I do think you could have acted a little more responsibly.’
‘But I did tell her where I was going.’
‘So that was why she thought you were at Sarah’s house, was it?’
Juliet knew she wasn’t being strictly fair, considering Andrea’s vagueness on the subject, but she felt too exhausted to care. She just wanted to know a little more about what had gone on before she got home and accused Andrea of all sorts.
‘Well, we were going to stay at Sarah’s originally, and then her DVD player broke and her dad had friends round to play poker and her mum wanted an early night so River said it would be best if we went to hers instead.’
‘And you didn’t think to ring Andrea and let her know of this change of plan?’
‘I forgot. Sorry Mum.’
Juliet sighed. Andrea wasn’t completely to blame then, although as the adult she was clearly more at fault than Rachel was. Still, as long as Rachel was safe, that was the main thing. At least River’s mother had been properly dressed and fully compos mentis – unlike Sarah’s father - and there were no visible signs of recent wild partying, apart from the shadowy presence of the usual crusty collection of hangers-on who seemed to be a permanent feature of the Matthews household. Juliet had offered Sarah a lift home but she seemed disinclined to rouse herself and Juliet, secretly pleased not to have to return to the Schofields’ house, hadn’t insisted.
‘Did you have a nice time, anyway?’
Rachel shrugged. ‘It was all right. Bit boring actually.’
Juliet glanced at her daughter. She looked almost as shattered as Juliet felt. Her heart gave a squeeze. How on earth was she going to break the news that Gray wasn’t coming home yet? She would have to do it today, but later, when they’d both had some rest. She’d nearly blurted it out earlier, as they left River’s house and Rachel, suddenly remembering, asked why she wasn’t in Dorset. Completely unprepared and wrong-footed, Juliet had sent up a silent arrow prayer asking for forgiveness then lied through her teeth. Lizzie had not been feeling very well, she’d said, and they’d thought it best to come home. If Rachel asked where Gray was when they got home she would say he’d gone to the office. That should give her some breathing space while she worked exactly what to say.
She hadn’t finished with Andrea yet, either. Honestly, what had her so-called friend been thinking of, letting Rachel go off to a sleepover with no idea as to where she was and who she was with, and then, to cap it all, forgetting to collect her? But
, of course, Andrea had had far more important things on her mind, hadn’t she? – a little sleepover of her own, for a start. Failing in her duty as guardian to her daughter she could just about forgive, allowing for Andrea’s lack of experience, but bringing her married lover to the house and letting him stay all night? Not in a million years.
As Juliet parked outside number eleven, Rachel, who had been almost asleep, suddenly woke up.
‘Do you know, Mum, I asked River’s brother if he could get me some signed photos of the Hollyoaks cast and he said no. He said he didn’t want to ask because it would be unprofessional or something. Don’t you think that’s stupid?’ Rachel’s eyes were wide with incredulity.
Juliet switched the engine off. ‘I think it’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard all day.’
Juliet slept for most of Sunday. She’d already slept the clock round, having gone to bed at ten and woken twelve hours later, her skin on fire, her head full of half-remembered dreams, yet every time she sat down, in the garden, at the kitchen table or on the sofa, her eyes closed as if the lids were weighted down. When she was awake, her thoughts flew to Gray like filings to a magnet but they were floaty and unformed, as if they had been filtered through gauze and all the painful, gritty bits removed.
Rachel slept late too. Juliet crept upstairs to check on her, found her sleeping peacefully and left her alone. When, eventually, Rachel did appear, there was nothing in her demeanour to suggest anxiety or distress. She was her normal self, a little quieter and more preoccupied than usual perhaps, but that was all.
Last night they had talked about Gray. Juliet had apologised for her fib about him having gone to the office, then explained the situation. As a true account it was pretty thin, but it wasn’t fair to burden Rachel with unnecessary details – she’d given her quite enough to cope with as it was.
‘Why did you argue? Has Gray done something bad?’
There had been an unmistakeable touch of relish in Rachel’s voice.
‘Not exactly, it was more of a misunderstanding. I’d rather not go into it, not now, anyway.’ Juliet felt slightly peeved and wondered why she’d bothered worrying about Rachel’s reaction.
Falling to Earth Page 17
