They’d always got on well, with Dan harbouring none of the resentment that his mother bore about Sean having another child. Dan was thrilled to have a little half-sister, though as far as they were all concerned, there was nothing ‘half’ about it. It was a level playing field and they were both treated equally. It’s just that Dan was only with them thirty per cent of the time. She knew Sean wished it could be more and, even with this limited access, Natalie still made things difficult. But she didn’t think this was one of those times – Dan had chosen to come over early of his own accord, though they’d likely soon feel the brunt of Natalie’s annoyance. She didn’t like being rejected.
‘Only if you help me with chemistry,’ Dan said, lunging in for a tickle. Alice squealed, hunching her shoulders.
‘OK,’ she said, leaning over to him.
‘Whoa, no…’ Dan said kindly. ‘No purple pen on my schoolbooks.’
When Libby glanced round from the sink, she saw that Dan had slid his books aside and was colouring in some birds for Alice. She smiled and sighed at the same time. If only this was a normal evening, if only it wasn’t marred by everything else. She shuddered, closing her eyes as she dried her hands.
‘Right, I’ve just got to pop out to the barn kitchen to get something,’ she said, though the kids weren’t listening. Libby grabbed the key and went across the courtyard, letting herself in, opening the stainless-steel door of the catering fridge-freezer – each side lockable, though she never bothered. With only her working there and occasionally Sasha, there was no need. Besides, the stable door to the barn was secure.
‘Celeriac…’ she said to herself, scanning the shelves. Everything was ordered properly and in line with hygiene rules. She was extremely careful and proud of her high standards. ‘I swear there’s one here somewhere.’ She moved a couple of things aside to eventually reveal the gnarly root vegetable. She pulled it out, closing the door behind her. As an afterthought, she opened the freezer, wanting to put a specially made sauce in the fridge to defrost for tomorrow. Everything was meticulously labelled, with prepared dishes even having colour-coded lids just to be thorough, though the sticker on this container had fallen off. She picked the label off the shelf, checking when she’d frozen it. It was still well within date. Libby took a new label and marked it with today’s date – the date of defrosting. She left it in the fridge and locked up the kitchen again, heading across the courtyard and into the boot room.
‘Doesn’t your mummy love you, then?’ she overheard Alice say, just as she was about to go back into the kitchen. She stopped, her hand reaching out for the latch, but decided to wait for Dan’s response. The door was ajar – enough to hear the conversation, but not wide enough for them to see her.
‘Good question, Alice,’ Dan said. ‘Mums can be funny things, right?’
‘Yeah,’ Alice replied in a voice that Libby knew she was putting on to sound more grown up in front of her big brother. ‘Mine’s funny too.’
Silence for a moment, then the sound of Alice slurping on her drink. Libby closed her eyes briefly.
‘Why is your mummy funny?’ she pressed on. ‘Does she cry a lot, like mine?’
‘I’ve never seen my mum cry,’ Dan said with a laugh.
More silence and the sound of felt pens scrubbing over the paper.
‘Pass the green, please,’ Alice said.
‘Why does yours cry, Ali?’ Dan asked.
Libby felt herself bristling, wanting to burst in and change the subject. But then, she also wanted to hear what Alice had to say.
‘She must be sad, mustn’t she?’ Alice continued slowly, clearly not really knowing.
‘Mmm,’ Dan went on.
Thinking their chat was fizzling out, that it meant nothing in particular, Libby was about to go back in. But she suddenly froze again.
‘Your mummy’s scary,’ Alice said.
Dan laughed loudly. ‘Depends who you ask,’ he said in a tone that Libby knew would go straight over Alice’s head. ‘She’s all right really.’
‘She was the bad lady in my dream except it wasn’t a dream and she was in my house and she shouldn’t have been cos Sasha was babysitting not her and I was going to tell on her but then I didn’t as I was too scared so I just hid with Mr Flumps and we made a tent under the duvet until she went away.’
Libby held her breath as she listened out for Dan’s response. Whatever Alice was talking about had come spewing out in a quick-fire stream.
‘Sounds scary,’ Dan said, clearly not paying much attention. ‘But I’ve got to learn the periodic table for a test as well as write up an experiment, so why don’t you do the colouring now?’
‘No, I want you to help, Dan.’ Alice made a whiny noise. ‘What’s a speriment?’
‘Shhh,’ Dan said.
‘Doesn’t your mummy like our daddy any more?’ Alice pressed on.
‘No,’ Dan said, sighing. He was a patient lad, but Libby knew that a switch would soon flick and he’d either end up leaving the room for somewhere more peaceful or he’d snap at Alice. Then Libby heard the thud-thud as Alice swung her legs, kicking her chair. She knew it meant she was agitated.
‘Hey, guys,’ Libby said, striding back into the kitchen. As expected, Dan was leaning over his books, glasses on. ‘I found it.’ She held up the celeriac, her hands shaking. But Alice jumped, letting out a high-pitched scream, making Libby drop the vegetable. They all watched as it fell to the tiles, as if in slow motion, splitting clean in two.
* * *
‘How did Alice seem to you earlier?’ Libby asked Dan. Alice was upstairs in her room playing and, after eating dinner, she and Dan were in the living room watching TV. Dan was sprawled on the sofa but, since that night, Libby had refused to sit on it. She either perched on the window seat or, as now, sat in the small armchair beside the fire. Sean hadn’t come home yet and Libby was conscious he was late.
‘Talkative,’ Dan said, laughing, his almost-broken voice squeaking high then low as his eyes stayed fixed on the screen.
‘I wasn’t eavesdropping exactly,’ Libby went on, ‘but I couldn’t help hearing Alice talking about your mum earlier.’
‘Yeah,’ Dan said, scraping out his yoghurt pot. ‘She said something. I dunno, I wasn’t really paying attention.’
‘I think Alice was… was concerned about…’ Libby wasn’t sure whether to mention it or not, but however much Sean wanted to protect Natalie, the more she thought about it, the more she realised it could change everything about that night, what they told the police. ‘I was just wondering if your mum had come round here several Fridays ago, Dan?’
‘Maybe. I’m not sure,’ Dan said. His attention stayed firmly on the TV. ‘Can’t really remember, soz.’
Libby reached for the remote and turned down the volume. ‘Can you have a think? It’s quite important.’
‘Hey, it was just getting to the good bit.’ He held out his hand for the remote, making a silly, pleading face.
‘It was the nineteenth of October, Dan. Is there any way you can check what you were doing that night? It might remind you of where your mum was?’ Libby kept hold of the remote control.
‘Hang on,’ Dan said resignedly, going off to the kitchen and returning with his school bag. He pulled out his phone and checked his messages. ‘The nineteenth?’
Libby nodded.
‘I stopped over at my mate’s house. I’ve got texts here arranging it. We played World of Warcraft most of the night, watched a movie. Don’t tell Mum but it was an eighteen.’ He pulled a face then, knowing Libby wouldn’t mind.
‘Where does your friend live, Dan?’
‘Oh, just round the corner. He’s in Great Lyne too. Tom’s place is on…’ He paused, looking at the ceiling. ‘What’s it called? That last lane off Drover’s Way. Mum was annoyed at having to drive me out here at short notice, that’s all I can remember. Said it was Friday night and she wanted a drink and had better things to do than to be driving me around.’
‘What time did she drop you off?’
‘About eight, I think. Knowing her, she’ll have not wasted the journey and gone into The Falconer’s for a quick one before she went home. Between you and me, I think there’s a guy who goes in there that she likes. She’s always going on dates and stuff.’
‘I see, thanks, Dan. That’s helpful.’
He held his hand out again for the remote control but pulled back, suddenly looking worried. ‘This won’t get Mum into trouble, will it? That I’ve told you? I mean, I don’t know for sure if she went in the pub or came here or went to Timbuktu for that matter. I’m just going by what she usually does if she drops me off at Tom’s.’
‘No, no, don’t worry, it’s fine.’ Libby smiled, her mind racing. She wished Sean would hurry up and get home. ‘Here,’ she said, passing over the remote. ‘Carry on with your show, love. I’m going to tuck Alice in.’
Dan smiled and turned the volume up again while Libby went through to the kitchen. But, instead of attending to Alice, she poured herself a small drink and picked up her phone. ‘Hi,’ she said, when Sean’s voicemail kicked in. ‘It’s me. I’ve no idea where you are but you need to come home immediately.’
Thirty-Nine
Libby stared at the note through teary eyes, the words blurry as she pondered what to do with it. Last night, she’d decided to get rid of it, but couldn’t. Not yet.
The second note.
I’m warning you again about your husband. He’s having an affair.
‘Alice,’ she called out from the study. She had to get Alice to Marion’s so she could get on with food preparations. ‘Are you ready, darling?’
‘Coming, Mummy,’ was the response from upstairs.
Libby held the paper between shaking hands, leaning on her desk, then hid it under some papers, vowing to destroy it later. She hadn’t been thinking straight, and no good would come of showing Sean. A second note wasn’t going to make him confess anything, especially as he’d probably realise right away that she’d faked it.
‘There’s a good girl,’ Libby said, after she’d bounced downstairs, her toy dog tucked under her arm. ‘You taking Mr Flumps?’
‘Yes,’ Alice said, hugging him to her chest. ‘He saves me from the baddies.’
Libby crouched down, halting her daughter in her tracks. ‘What baddies, Alice?’
Alice tugged on her hair, twiddling it between her fingers while still clutching her toy. ‘The baddy that made Sasha go to the angels,’ she said, matter-of-factly. ‘Where are the angels, Mummy? Are they really in the sky?’ Alice glanced up at the ceiling.
Libby paused, looking lovingly at her daughter – her bright blue eyes reflecting innocence. ‘I, um, I think so, yes. Here, look at you. You’ve got toothpaste round your mouth.’ Libby took a tissue from her pocket and wiped Alice’s lips. She shied away, pulling a face and squirming.
‘Will Sasha come back from the angels?’
‘I don’t know, darling,’ Libby said, reaching for Alice’s pink coat. She slipped it on her daughter, zipping it up. ‘But I really wish she would.’
Libby strapped Alice into the car seat in the hire car – much smaller than her VW estate, but Sean said it was all he could get locally at short notice.
‘Where have you been?’ Libby had said to him last night when he’d finally arrived home. She’d already put Alice to bed and had gone into the study to deal with some bills, but she’d got distracted. When she couldn’t concentrate, she went and sat in the kitchen, waiting for him, her anger welling up as the minutes passed.
‘Sorting out a car for you,’ he said at the door, waving someone off as they drove away.
‘Who was that?’
‘Andy from the garage. OK? He and his mate helped me out getting the car back here.’
‘Don’t talk to me about the bloody garage, Sean Randell,’ Libby said. ‘What were you even thinking?’
‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘Andy’s cool about all that. I thought you’d be pleased to have a car, not berate me for it.’
Libby shook her head. ‘Thanks, sorry. Of course I’m grateful.’ She peered out of the front kitchen window. ‘But you know what I’m talking about. You lied to the police about where the Land Rover was that night.’
‘It’s the little blue Ford outside,’ he said, ignoring her comment. ‘Will it do you for a few days? I got a child seat in it for Alice. It’s all Andy had to rent out right now and I wanted to give him the business. Besides, Crossroads Garage is local and they’ve always been good to me.’
‘Oh yes, they’re being good to you all right, covering up.’ Libby turned and scowled at him. ‘Just how good do you think they’ll be when the police come knocking on their door asking questions about when the Land Rover was in for repairs?’
‘Trust me, OK?’ Sean said, taking her by the shoulders. ‘It’s sorted. And you really have no choice.’
Libby slumped down at the kitchen table, holding her head in her hands. ‘I do trust you…’ The words burned up her throat. ‘All this is just so… I don’t like it,’ she said. ‘I don’t like it one bit. None of this is right.’
‘Look,’ Sean said, pulling up a chair beside her. ‘I don’t know how many times I’ve told you, but I need you to be strong. For our family. For you. For us.’
‘Is there an us any more, Sean? Answer honestly.’
He opened his mouth but Libby put her finger over his lips.
‘I don’t want to hear it. I really don’t…’ She’d got up then and gone to her desk in the little study, putting on a brave face as she passed Dan, who was still engrossed in the TV. She sat staring at the piece of paper she’d carelessly left on her desk, eventually hiding it under a file, deciding she would throw it on the fire when everyone had gone to bed.
A potato rolled off the stainless-steel worktop and onto the floor. Libby swore under her breath and bent down to pick it up, chucking it in the waste bin. It was mid-morning and Alice had been up at Marion’s a couple of hours, so she wanted to cram in as much preparation for tomorrow night’s dinner as she could. Anything to distract herself from what was going on, especially as the police had been an unnerving presence in the village over the last twenty-four hours.
She continued peeling the potatoes, ready to boil them up to make the black garlic gnocchi. It was one of the dishes on the menu that could be made in advance and cooked on-site in the client’s kitchen. She held back the tears as she worked, the sudden switch of music from a fast, powerful tempo to something moving and wistful making her doubly emotional.
Normally she’d be enlisting Sasha’s help right about now – to make sure all the cutlery and crockery was counted out, all of it clean. It was her job, too, to pack the plastic storage crates with the items they’d need – the correct number and type of wine glasses, coordinating napkins, table decorations, place cards as the hostess had instructed, the red wines plus making sure the whites were chilling in the fridge along with any champagne, place mats, tablecloths… the list was long. Libby had most things that were required for an ‘at home’ dinner, but occasionally needed to hire stuff herself if the event was bigger.
Either way, not having Sasha flitting in and out between the kitchen and her car, checking off the list, was unsettling. No, it was tragic. She had so much to do between now and tomorrow evening when, in reality, she didn’t want to do anything – let alone be around happy people tomorrow night celebrating at the birthday dinner.
‘Knock, knock,’ a voice said at the kitchen door – a familiar voice that instantly set Libby’s nerves on edge, even before she saw who it was.
‘Oh…’ Libby glanced up. ‘Natalie.’
‘No, don’t stop what you’re doing,’ she said, stepping into the kitchen. Even though it was fresh outside, Libby had the top half of the stable door open while the stock pot simmered on the stove. The reduction was a long process to get the full flavour for the artichoke and truffle risotto and, even with the extractor, the kitchen soon got st
eamy and warm.
Libby put down the knife. She didn’t trust herself not to cut her finger with Natalie looming over her. ‘Do come right on in,’ she said as she came up close.
‘If you’re going to take that tone, I may as well get down to it.’
Libby felt her heart rate kick up another notch, her mouth go dry. She opened her mouth but didn’t get a chance to speak.
‘Stop filling my son’s head with shit,’ Natalie spat out.
‘What? I—’
‘A simple enough request, I would have thought. Even for a woman stupid enough to steal my husband.’
‘Natal—’
‘Dan is vulnerable. He doesn’t need you and your spoilt child filling his head with rubbish, OK?’
‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Natalie,’ Libby said, angry that her cheeks decided to colour up even though she’d done nothing wrong. ‘Let’s stay calm. Why do you say Dan is vulnerable?’ Libby had never once sensed that Dan wasn’t settled, competent and stable – in and out of school. Sure, he’d had the occasional teenage mood, had lost money and items of school uniform once or twice, and occasionally forgotten to do his homework, but he was a kind boy who loved his family. She’d never have labelled him vulnerable.
‘About that girl,’ Natalie said. ‘The one who’s disappeared.’
‘Sasha?’ Libby said as she rinsed her hands under the tap. She dried them and stood squarely facing her husband’s ex-wife, only the narrow work bench separating them. ‘What about her?’
‘He had a thing for her, of course. Why do you think he was always hanging around here when she was working for you in your…’ Natalie glanced around, turning up her nose. ‘In your shed?’
‘What are you talking about?’ Libby couldn’t help the incredulous expression.
‘It’s true. You ask Sean. The poor boy was lovesick. Making me drop him off in case she was here.’
‘I had no idea,’ Libby said, though she couldn’t recall many instances when Dan had been dropped off without prior arrangement. In fact, Natalie often changed the court-ordered arrangements at the last minute to suit her, with Sean complying to keep the peace. What she was saying didn’t make sense.
Date Night: An Absolutely Gripping Psychological Thriller With a Jaw-Dropping Twist Page 24
