by Fay Sampson
‘We were afraid of that.’ Suzie put her hand over the other woman’s. ‘Why? Millie’s upset that Tamara didn’t tell her she was going. And their form tutor doesn’t seem to know why she’s absent.’
Lisa hung her head, letting her sharply-cut hair hang over her bruised face. ‘Not even Leonard knows this. But Tamara said goodbye to me. Sort of. She hugged me and said she loved me. She didn’t actually say she was running away; only, when she didn’t come home that day, I realized that was what she meant.’
‘Why would she do that?’ Suzie asked, but another question was burning in her mind. Does she know Tamara is pregnant?
‘I know she’s frightened of Leonard. He can be a bit strict, sometimes.’
An understatement.
‘Does he beat her too?’
Lisa lifted a scared face. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes he calls her into his study. I don’t know what he does there. She looks sort of white and upset when she comes out.’
Incredulity almost silenced Suzie. ‘Haven’t you asked her?’
Lisa shook her head.
She doesn’t want to know, Suzie thought. Whatever Leonard Dawson does to her daughter, she wants to pretend it doesn’t happen.
How frightened did you have to be of someone, not to want to protect your daughter from him?
Protect her from what? Physical abuse? Or something worse?
‘Where would Tamara go? Are there friends? Relations? Where have you tried?’
Again Lisa Dawson hid her face. ‘I thought she might have gone to Kevin. But Leonard won’t let me ring anyone.’
Millie was walking across the patio, carefully carrying a tray with mugs of tea.
Lisa threw an appealing look at her. ‘I thought Millie might have some idea.’
‘That’s what really gets me,’ Millie said, setting down the tray so sharply that the tea slopped. ‘I mean, I’ve been her best friend for years. And suddenly she’s gone, without saying a word to me. I’ve haven’t the faintest where she is.’
‘Why won’t your husband let you ring people?’ Suzie asked. ‘Surely he’s as keen to find her as you are?’
‘He says he has his reputation to think of. Can’t you imagine it? Tamara’s picture in the papers. Headmaster’s daughter on the run. Leonard’s a proud man. I think he’s afraid people would laugh at him.’
‘But it wouldn’t have to be in the papers, would it? Unless you were afraid something had happened to her.’
‘I didn’t like to argue.’
I can see that, Suzie thought, looking at the apprehensive woman. She handed her a mug and offered sugar. ‘Can’t you phone your ex without telling Leonard?’
The frightened glance Lisa gave her shocked Suzie. The mug rattled back on the table. Lisa jumped to her feet. ‘Look, I really shouldn’t be here. It was only . . . Seeing you in church this morning, I thought perhaps you could help.’
‘We could ring him,’ Suzie said. ‘Millie would, if you gave us his number. But if she’s gone there, surely he’d have let you know she was safe?’
‘I’m not sure if I ought.’ Her face was wracked with indecision.
There’s something else, Suzie thought. Something she’s afraid to tell me. Does she really think something worse has happened to Tamara? That she didn’t manage to get away?’
She was frightening herself now.
She was aware that Nick was standing behind her, quietly listening.
‘Finish your tea,’ he said to Lisa. ‘It’s only a few minutes’ walk back. If Dawson’s out for the afternoon, you’re quite safe.’
Lisa subsided again and took up her mug with trembling hands.
‘How has Tamara seemed lately? Before she ran away?’ Suzie nudged closer to the crucial question.
‘Edgy. I think there was something on her mind.’
‘Did you ask her?’
Lisa shook her head.
Suzie tried to imagine what it must be like to be so dominated by your husband that you didn’t dare ask your child what was wrong, because you feared the answer.
The whisper came. ‘She was sick the other morning, before she went to school.’
‘And you still didn’t ask her?’
‘No.’ It was barely audible.
Suzie looked up at Nick. So Lisa Dawson had thought the unthinkable too.
There was a painful silence. Then Lisa’s whisper came again. ‘I told Leonard.’
‘And?’
Lisa raised her frightened eyes to Suzie’s. But she seemed unable to speak.
ELEVEN
‘You could have offered to run her home.’
‘I thought it better not,’ Nick said. ‘If Dawson did decide to come home early, she’d probably have found it hard enough to explain why she’d suddenly decided to go for a stroll. But imagine if she turned up in another man’s car.’
‘It must be terrible to live like that,’ Suzie said slowly, tracing a dribble of tea across the table. ‘Completely under his thumb. She wasn’t a bit like that before. She and Tamara seemed to be doing fine on their own, after Kevin left. She’s changed so fast.’
‘It wasn’t as good as you think,’ Millie said. ‘I mean, it couldn’t be, could it? He was fun enough when he was just Kevin Gamble. But Reynard Woodman was, like, extra special. Sort of magical. Like, he was the wizard, and there were those creatures in his books. Half deer, half human. It was fantastic. You couldn’t just forget you’d lived with him. Tamara couldn’t.’
‘Do you know why they split up?’
‘No prizes for guessing,’ Nick said. ‘He’ll have been playing the field. I think I get the picture. Youngish man, starting to become famous, adoring fan club. That sort of thing breeds its own charisma. Nothing succeeds like success. It’s like an aphrodisiac. I’ll bet there weren’t just kids queuing up for his autograph.’
‘Dad! He was fun. He took us picnicking in the woods, and we’d play these games. He could make it so that it really was Humbledown Forest, like in the books. He made you believe in it.’
‘You see what I mean?’
‘I suppose she must have missed that magic,’ Suzie said. ‘Lisa, I mean. And she’d be sore because another woman had taken away what she had. And then along comes this other man. Just the opposite sort from a philandering fantasy writer. Someone reliable. Pillar of the establishment, chapel-going. I suppose it must have seemed like a sort of security. Someone who was never going to two-time her.’
‘Don’t be so sure of that,’ Nick said, caressing her cheek. ‘Churches get their share of the other sort, too. They’re not all saints.’
‘So it seems. I don’t suppose Springbrook Methodist knows what goes on behind the Dawsons’ door. And Lisa isn’t going to tell them.’
‘Fat pig.’ Millie slammed the empty mugs back on the tray. ‘Preaching to the kids at school assembly. Swanning around at his posh country club at the weekends. He made Tamara go there, to play tennis. She didn’t want to. I mean, she’s good at tennis. Streets better than I am. But she says they’re all terribly competitive there. You can’t just go and play for fun. Mr Dawson wanted her to go in for all sorts of tournaments. He wasn’t going to be happy till she brought back a shelf full of cups. She has to go for coaching, every Sunday, and after school some days. She said the only good thing about it was the coach. Dan something. She really fancies him. She has this picture of him she carries around with her. I have to say, he’s a bit tasty. Blond curls, square jaw. That sort of thing.’
‘She carried his photo around with her?’ Suzie felt the sudden prickle of awareness.
‘Yeah. Like, she was really smitten. You don’t get that sort of talent at school.’
Suzie looked up at Nick, wanting him to share the same understanding. Something worrying enough, but that would be better than the sour taste of the scenario they had been imagining, behind the closed door of Leonard Dawson’s study.
‘You’re sure about this, love? How long has it been going on? This coaching?’
>
‘I didn’t say anything was going on. She just fancied him.’ Millie bridled with indignation.
‘If the Dawsons married at Easter . . .’ Suzie was calculating rapidly. ‘And Tamara started having coaching at the start of the summer term?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘And we’re well into June now. So there would have been time . . .’
Millie let the tray fall back to the table with a crash. ‘You mean this Dan something-or-other? The tennis coach? You’re suggesting he and Tamara were having it off? That he’s the father?’
‘It would fit. And if she liked him . . . Well, wouldn’t that be better than . . . what you were thinking? About her stepfather?’
Millie looked stricken. ‘But if it had got that far, she would have said. Like, we’re best friends.’
‘Chances are he’ll be at the country club right now.’ Nick was already looking down at his gardening clothes and heading for the house.
‘What are you going to do?’ Suzie called after him. ‘Confront him on the tennis court and tell him what a rotter he is? That’s more Mr Dawson’s style. He’s hardly going to confess to you, is he? If it’s true, he’d lose his job, wouldn’t he? Having sex with a member’s daughter who’s a minor. The only thing that’s better about that theory is that he’s young and good-looking.’
‘And not middle-aged, fat and bald. And a pompous hypocrite,’ Millie said bitterly. ‘And anyway, where’s Tamara?’
‘Too true,’ Suzie sighed. ‘That’s the real worry, isn’t it? There must be somebody who knows. But who?’
‘It won’t do any harm to ask.’ Nick’s face was grim. Suzie knew he was imagining Millie in Tamara’s situation.
‘How will you get in?’ Millie asked. ‘You’re not a member.’
‘I don’t imagine you have to show a pass to guards at the gate. If I keep away from the clubhouse and head straight for the courts, nobody’s going to stop me.’
‘We’ll come.’ Suzie rose as she reached a sudden decision. ‘You can say you want to discuss coaching for Millie. Say Tamara recommended him. That should produce an interesting reaction, if we’re right.’
Excitement raced through her veins. At last there was something she could do, other than sit at home and worry about the possibilities. Her mind was in a turmoil for Tamara. A predatory young tennis coach was not such a loathsome prospect as a domineering stepfather, but it was only a matter of degree. Where did either leave Tamara’s future? What had been in her mind when she ran away?
Had she only fled because she feared Leonard Dawson’s punishment?
Nick was right, of course. It was easy to drive into the grounds of the country club, whether you were a member or not. They swept up the long drive, through shrubberies, past sloping lawns, towards the clubhouse.
Nick looked keenly from side to side. ‘Any idea where the tennis courts are?’
‘Stop the car,’ Millie ordered. ‘Switch off the engine.’
She lowered the window. Sure enough, there was the distant clunk of balls on racquets, high voices calling.
‘There are parking signs pointing round the back of the house,’ Suzie said. ‘Or the overflow car park’s that way, nearer the courts.’
‘I’d rather keep as far away from the clubhouse as possible.’ He turned the wheel towards the distant sounds.
A fork in the drive took them over the brow of the hill to a hollow with a handful of cars.
‘Good enough. There aren’t too many people to question what we’re doing here.’
‘Stop worrying,’ Suzie said, getting out of the car into the heat of the afternoon. ‘This was your idea. I shouldn’t imagine anyone knows all the members by sight.’
‘I’m having second thoughts. It’s OK for you. Some of these people will be my clients.’
‘Is that a problem?’ Suzie thought of Nick’s architectural practice in the city, with its reputation for futuristic, eco-friendly buildings. Would it really matter that they were trespassing on his clients’ playground?
‘Maybe not. But since the story we’re spinning is not entirely honest, the fewer people who know I’m here the better.’
The three of them began to walk across the grass to where the sounds of tennis were becoming louder.
Behind a screen of azaleas, still dazzling with blooms of purple, orange and magenta, the courts came into view. The players, Suzie observed, were all carefully attired for their Sunday afternoon game. No scruffy trainers, or jogging pants. No inappropriately coloured shorts, such as you might see on the municipal courts in the park. She glanced at Millie and realized with surprise that she did not look out of place here. She had put on one of her smarter dresses: sleeveless, peppermint green. With her cropped blonde hair, she looked a picture of cool elegance. Not for the first time in recent weeks, Suzie had to adjust the mental image of her fourteen-year-old daughter.
Then she was struck with a sudden chill. Had Millie dressed up like this to catch the handsome tennis coach’s eye?
‘That’s got to be him.’
Nick had been scanning the players. He pointed to one of the further courts, where a good-looking man in his twenties was adjusting the grip of a rather fat boy, who looked several years younger than Millie.
‘Blond curls. Yep, that’s the one,’ Millie agreed. ‘Nice.’
‘He’s a bit old for Tamara, isn’t he?’ Suzie said.
‘Mature,’ said Millie.
They worked their way around the wire-mesh enclosure until they stood at one end of the coach’s court. He came back to the side of the net to watch his pupils resume their game. After a while, his eyes went to the Fewings. He waited until the boys changed ends, then he strolled towards them. Suzie noticed how his eyes raked appreciatively over Millie, and not just, she thought indignantly, her daughter’s face. The square-jawed features Millie had commented on lit up with a smile.
‘Can I help you?’
Did he ask that of every spectator? Suzie was already beginning to regret her idea of bringing Millie along to provide the excuse to get into conversation.
‘Yes,’ said Nick. ‘You’re Dan . . .?’
‘Curtis.’
‘That’s right. Is it possible to have a word?’
The coach looked at his watch. ‘Give me a few minutes. These brats’ hour is nearly up. And I’ve had a cancellation for the next session. Is that all right?’
‘Fine.’
His appraising eyes went back to Millie, before he turned his attention to the boys slugging it out with much panting and perspiration.
‘Mm. I see what Tamara means,’ Millie said.
Alarm bells rang louder in Suzie’s head.
The session ended. The young man came through the gate and strolled towards them. Sunlight on his blond curls. He glowed with health. Suzie felt her nerves tightening. This is not about Millie, she scolded herself. We’re here because of Tamara. It was all too easy to see how a teenage girl might have fallen for this sporting Adonis. But even if it had ended in pregnancy, why would that make her leave home? The two of them clearly hadn’t run away together.
‘Now.’ His smile embraced the three of them. ‘I’m all yours.’
Nick held out a hand. ‘James Peters. This is my wife Anne. And my daughter Sally.’
Suzie threw him a startled glance. But Millie, she saw, was grinning. Nick really was covering his tracks, not wanting to risk his real name coming up in clubhouse gossip.
‘And what can I do for you?’
‘We’re new here,’ Nick said. ‘And we were wondering if it was possible to arrange for Sally to have some coaching.’
The smile positively shone from Dan Curtis’s face. His eyes were fully on Millie now. ‘I’d be delighted.’ This time the smile was for her alone.
Millie blushed.
I bet you would, Suzie thought. Instead, she said, wrestling his attention away, ‘You were recommended to us. By one of your pupils. Tamara Gamble? She’s a friend of Mi— Of Sally�
�s.’
A momentary cloud obscured the smile. Then it was gone, replaced by professional courtesy. ‘Of course. The charming Tamara. How kind of her. As a matter of fact, she’s let me down today. It’s my session with her that was cancelled. I heard she was unwell. I hope there’s nothing seriously wrong?’ He turned his inquiring eyes back to Millie.
‘I . . . I don’t know,’ she gulped. ‘She’s gone.’
‘Gone?’ A frown of what looked like genuine concern crossed Dan Curtis’s face. ‘Gone where? Her father just said she was feeling off colour.’
‘We don’t know. Do you?’
The sudden aggression in her voice broke through her shyness. The question knocked the young man’s confident charm away. ‘Why should I?’
Millie shrugged, her blush returning. ‘I just wondered.’
‘Look, I don’t know what you’re suggesting. I only saw her a couple of times a week. On the tennis court. With witnesses.’
It was the coach’s turn to sound aggressive now.
Nick took hold of Millie’s arm and turned her away. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Curtis. Sally’s a bit upset about this. Perhaps we’d better talk about coaching another time.’
‘Suit yourselves. If Tamara’s really has left, I’ll have a vacancy on Sunday afternoons. But you’d better make up your minds quickly. My services are in considerable demand, you know.’
His eyes followed Millie with a heightened mixture of admiration and curiosity. Millie, Suzie was disturbed to see, turned her head to gaze back at him over her shoulder.
When they were out of earshot, Suzie rounded on her daughter. ‘Well, that didn’t exactly go to plan. You practically accused him of being involved in her disappearance.’
‘And whatever story Dawson has been putting about,’ Nick added, ‘the word will be out now that she’s missing.’
Millie shook off Suzie’s rebuke. Her eyes were sparkling. ‘So what? Did you see? When you said Tamara’s name, his face changed. He was all smiles before, then, poof! He went all serious. He covered it up fast. But there was something.’
