‘I said, do you want cake? It’s curry flavour.’
Miss Sarah doesn’t reply. She sits down on the edge of the bed nearest to Mel and stares at her, her hands clasped neatly in her lap.
‘I’d offer you a swig of champagne, but can’t lie – I sank the whole lot myself down on the beach.’ She laughs then, grabbing the bottle and tipping it upside down over the tin, just to make sure. ‘Shame,’ she adds. ‘We could have had a party.’
Then, to Mel’s surprise, Miss Sarah gets up and goes over to a dark wooden cupboard. She opens one of the doors, giving Mel a glimpse of the contents – books, piles of papers, photograph albums, her old laptop, plus other bits and pieces she can’t make out. Miss Sarah closes the cupboard door and returns to the bed with a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. Mel watches on, shocked, but takes one of the two shots that Miss Sarah pours.
‘Cin cin,’ Mel says, raising her glass at the absurdity of the evening. With common sense already blurred from the champagne, she takes a hefty sip and closes her eyes, making an appreciative sound.
‘You know what?’ Mel says after a moment, opening them again to see Miss Sarah nursing her own glass. ‘I’ve had a really shit day. A really shit few days, actually. The weird thing is,’ she lets out a sardonic laugh, stifling a hiccup, ‘is that I feel I can tell you all about it. You’re hardly going to spill the beans to anyone, are you?’ Mel shrugs, sipping more whisky, enjoying the feeling of it searing the back of her throat.
‘I’m trying my bloody best, but to be honest, it’s all getting a bit much. Thing is, Miss S, I never asked for any of this.’ She flashes her a look. ‘Now, before you think I’m an ungrateful cow who doesn’t deserve a massive inheritance handed to her on a plate, I’m really not. If you knew some of the stuff I’ve been through…’ She tips back her head then, allowing another painful laugh. ‘Well, you’d realise that I’m the opposite.’
Mel hiccups again, her shoulders jumping as she covers her mouth. ‘Bit tipsy though, aren’t I?’ she says with a giggle. ‘And who’d have thought you’d turn out to be my bestie? I mean, I do have a best mate, Michael, but he’s back in Birmingham. I miss him, you know. He’s my partner without being my partner, if you see what I mean. He’s gay, so…’ Mel gives an overstated shrug. ‘So that ain’t ever gonna happen. We’ve known each other since we were eight. Same children’s home. Bet you never thought that about me, eh? That I grew up without a family.’ Mel sips more drink, leaning forward towards Miss Sarah. ‘I was abandoned as a baby, you see. Dumped on a train by my mother. Can you believe someone would do that?’
As she leans closer still, Mel’s eyes connect with Miss Sarah’s, searching for even a glimmer of understanding. As she focuses, which is hard in her drunken state, Mel is sure she sees a flicker of something. No, she feels it, as if whatever Miss Sarah wants to say is stuck in there and there’s no way she’s letting it out.
‘So the last thing I expected was to inherit a hotel and a load of money…’ Mel pauses, trying to swallow down yet another hiccup, but it doesn’t work, and she ends up belching and hiccupping at the same time. ‘Christ, ’scuse me,’ she says, covering her mouth. ‘And then there’s this Angus bloke. He’s meant to be my brother, can you believe?’ Mel pauses, hearing nothing more than a drunk woman rambling and feeling sorry for herself. ‘And those bones in the garden. And Kate not speaking. Was that your idea, was it? That she clam up?’ Mel shakes her head, sighing. ‘Tell you what, Miss Sarah, it’s more than I can deal with right now.’
As she’s sipping the last of her whisky, she stops, thinking she heard something. Was it Miss Sarah making a noise – some kind of sound coming from the back of her throat? Or was she mistaken, and it was coming from the landing? Mel shrugs, unsure. Doesn’t even care.
‘Anyway, tell me, why are you called Miss Sarah? It’s a bit weird. Is there a story behind it and—’
Mel stops. Definitely a noise. Not Miss Sarah. She holds her breath.
Then, slowly, she stands up and creeps over to the bedroom door, trying not to stagger. When she yanks the door open, it takes her a moment to realise that it’s Angus disappearing down the corridor.
Forty-One
Bleary-eyed from a poor night’s sleep filled with bad dreams, headaches and regret, Mel screams. A guttural, blood-curdling scream sent up from deep inside her as she pulls back Kate’s duvet.
Pillows. Four pillows are laid out in a row, the duvet having been shaped over them to look like her daughter. How could she have been so stupid not to notice last night?
Because you were drunk! she screams in her head.
Mel steadies herself, her breathing fast and panicked as she forces her brain to work, denying what she can’t bear to admit.
Kate has run away – or worse.
It was the headache that had woken her half an hour earlier, with the morning sunlight streaming across her face. Not that she’d really slept properly. From pouring sweat to being freezing cold, to tossing and turning and drifting off only to be woken by nightmares, which included Billy forcing her to eat cake while Tom watched on as he barbecued tiny bones, Mel had peeled her eyes open and groaned, remembering what had happened and pulling a pillow over her head to block everything out. She just wanted the world to go away.
‘Why… why, oh why?’ she’d whispered, remembering the entire bottle of champagne she’d drunk plus the whisky Miss Sarah had given her. Then she pulled the pillow off her head and sat up, clutching her temples when she remembered seeing Angus walking briskly away from Miss Sarah’s door as she’d opened it. There was no reason for him to be on that part of the landing – his room was at the other end of the corridor. He’d been eavesdropping on their conversation. Or rather, my self-indulgent monologue, Mel had thought.
And then her thoughts had turned to Kate, how today was the day she was going to do anything in her power to get her to talk, to open up, to confide in her. Nothing else mattered – not Angus, not the bones, not seeing Tom in his living room with another woman. As far as Mel was concerned, hangover or not, today she was going to devote herself to Kate. She’d give her a sick day off school, and they’d have a picnic on the beach, she’d thought, dragging herself into the bathroom and turning on the shower. She’d focus only on her daughter.
Fifteen minutes later, she was carrying the breakfast tray she’d made for Kate through the restaurant area when she spotted Angus tucking into his full English, a cup of coffee to one side, a newspaper to the other. He was leaning over it, chewing idly, sipping his coffee, looking completely relaxed in the casual blue shirt he was wearing over jeans.
‘Good morning,’ Mel had said, standing directly in front of his table. Miss Sarah wasn’t at her usual spot by the window, presumably having already eaten.
Angus had looked up, slowly. ‘Morning,’ he replied, confidently yet with a hint of caution.
‘Any particular reason you were outside Miss Sarah’s door last night?’ she’d continued.
‘Oh, was I?’ he’d replied, cutting up some bacon. He’d given an innocent smile then, making Mel wonder if the alcohol had made her unnecessarily suspicious.
‘Maybe I was mistaken,’ she’d said, not wanting to argue. ‘I think we need to talk, though. About this brother and sister thing.’
Angus had laid down his knife and fork then and given her his attention.
‘About how you found out,’ Mel had continued. ‘And proof. And what it is you want, exactly, by coming here out of the blue.’
‘That’s fair enough,’ he’d replied, leaning forward, elbows on the table. ‘And very sensible of you. It’d be my pleasure to explain everything over a cup of tea. I’d like us to get to know each other more.’
‘Fine. Good,’ Mel had said, nodding her head perfunctorily, feeling bad for being short with him. ‘Better take this up to Kate then, wake the sleeping beauty.’
Angus had smiled and Mel had felt his stare burning into her back as she left the restaurant and headed up to Ka
te’s bedroom.
Except when she went in, Kate wasn’t in bed, and that’s when she screamed, dropping the tray on the floor when she discovered the pile of pillows.
‘She’s nowhere,’ Mel says frantically down the line. ‘I mean, like, she’s completely disappeared. And she’s not taken her phone or her purse. At first I thought she’d run away, but there’s no stuff missing.’ Except the phone that Billy gave her, she wants to say but can’t bring herself to. She went cold when she saw it had gone from her bedside cupboard. ‘What the hell do I do, Micky?’ Mel can hardly breathe her chest is so tight. ‘She’s turned into a pile of bloody pillows overnight, and it’s all my fault.’ Mel lets out the sob she’s been holding in, trying to keep herself level-headed while she’d been searching. But now, having stopped to think, not knowing what else to do but call Michael, Mel is on the verge of exploding with worry.
‘Where are you, Mel?’ Michael says calmly.
‘In the garden. I’ve just got back from driving around the village. I went to check at school in case she’d gone early, then down at the beach, Chloe’s house, all over the place. No sign of her.’
‘Right, well, sit down and take a few slow, deep breaths. You’re going to pass out from hyperventilation if you’re not careful.’
‘Sorry, yes, yes, OK,’ Mel says, still breathing rapidly. She drops down onto the low wall, tipping her head back as she forces her brain to think where Kate may have gone. But lurking at the back of her mind is a thought too terrifying to consider.
‘Listen to me, Mel. Kate is a sensible girl. She won’t have gone far, and she’ll come back all apologetic that she worried you. That’s the most likely outcome, OK?’
‘Mmm,’ Mel replies weakly, cradling her head, not knowing what to do with herself. Nikki and Rose hadn’t seen Kate that morning when she asked them, and Angus hadn’t either as Mel tore around the hotel calling out her name.
‘Obviously, I’ll let you know if she turns up at my place. She may have hopped on a train. Meantime, I think it’s worth calling the police. I don’t want to worry you, Mel, but…’
‘It’s OK. You can say it. Don’t think the thought hasn’t already occurred to me,’ Mel says in a voice that’s barely holding up. ‘Billy,’ she whispers. ‘I know he’s behind this.’
‘That’s what you need to be careful about. If he’s snatched her, then it’s most definitely a police matter. Given the history, they’ll take you seriously. It’s time to call them.’
‘I agree,’ Mel says, barely feeling real. As she stands up, her legs feel as if they’ll give way at any moment. ‘I’ll do it now,’ she adds, spotting someone walking up the driveway. ‘Oh Christ, that’s all I need,’ she mutters down the phone. ‘Got to go, Micky. I’ll keep you posted.’ And she hangs up, unable to even force a smile as Tom walks towards her.
‘Late night?’ Tom says, laughing as he draws up beside her. Briefly, he rests a hand on her shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. But then he retracts it quickly, a concerned look spreading across his face, obviously remembering what happened last time he touched her.
‘Sorry… what?’ Mel says, preoccupied.
Tom clears his throat. ‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’
‘Not really,’ Mel replies. ‘Kate’s gone missing.’
‘What? When… I mean where, how? Christ, Mel, I’m so sorry to hear that.’
Mel shakes her head in the hope it will prevent the brewing tears. ‘She’s not been right since she found… you know.’ Mel glances over at the cordoned-off trench. ‘I only went out for a few hours last night, and—’
‘So I was right about the late night at least then, eh?’ Tom says with a wink.
If only you knew… Mel wants to say.
‘Tom, listen, this is serious. She wasn’t in her room when I came home. Well, I thought she was. I checked in on her as usual but she, or someone, had made a body shape out of pillows, so I’d think she was asleep in bed. Wherever she’s gone, it was all planned.’
‘Oldest trick in the book,’ he says, smiling. ‘Did it countless times as a teen,’ he adds.
‘That’s not helping, Tom,’ Mel says, her voice on the verge of tears. ‘How I wish it was just her and Chloe playing a teenage prank. But it’s not. I’ve checked with school and all her friends, searched high and low, done everything I can. She’s nowhere. I need to call the police now, because…’ Mel looks away, unsure if she wants to tell him. ‘I think she’s been kidnapped,’ she blurts out.
‘What?’ Tom’s voice is deep, serious. ‘Who by?’
‘Her father,’ she replies, getting straight to the point. ‘He’s recently been released from prison. And I know he’ll stop at nothing to see Kate and… and get her back. He knows he has no legal leg to stand on, as I have full residency rights and there’s no contact order currently, but Billy won’t accept that. He does things his way. I don’t want to talk about it, but just so you know, he… he used to knock me around. All kinds of abusive stuff.’ She clamps her arms around her body, hugging herself.
‘Christ, Mel. I’m so sorry.’ Tom blows breath between his teeth. ‘I think calling the police is absolutely the right thing to do. How can I help?’
Mel touches her head. ‘I… I don’t know. Perhaps help search for her. Let me call the police first and I’ll see what they say.’ And with that, Mel pulls her phone from her pocket and dials 999.
Forty-Two
Having been transferred to the local constabulary and made a report, Mel heads back inside the hotel to double-check all the rooms yet again. Perhaps Kate decided to sleep in another bedroom and is lying low in a cupboard. She prays she finds her daughter snuggled in a duvet, curled up at the bottom of a wardrobe, needing the security of a hiding place. They’ll talk everything through, have a nice picnic on the beach, play some games… But as Mel flings open bedroom door after bedroom door, she knows that’s not the reality of the situation.
Kate has gone.
‘You definitely think she’s been kidnapped, Mel? It does seem pre-planned to me, with Kate making it look as though she was in bed,’ Tom had said before he’d left to drive around the village as well as search the beach, especially up near the rocky part. There were caves nearby, apparently.
If only I’d stayed home, watched TV with Kate…
‘You don’t know Billy,’ was Mel’s reply. ‘He’s either cooked this up with her, telling her to keep it a secret, dressing it up as a fun game. Or, knowing I was out, he’d have come into the hotel and simply taken her against her will. To give himself a head start, he would have planted the pillows under the duvet himself. He knows I check in on her every night before I go to sleep.’
‘Hey, hey there…’ comes a voice now, then a hand on her back.
Mel forces her head up off her desk and sees Angus standing beside her. She wipes her face, hating that he’s found her crying. She has to be strong, for Kate.
‘Everything’s going to be OK,’ he says in a soothing voice as he sits down. Mel notices his eyes flick over her desk and her computer screen.
‘You don’t know that,’ she says, pulling a tissue from a box. ‘I wish the police would hurry up.’
‘I’ll stay with you until they arrive,’ Angus says.
‘You don’t have to,’ Mel says, looking directly into his eyes. Kind, genuine eyes, she thinks.
‘Nonsense. That’s what family is for, right?’
Mel gives a little nod, sniffing again. ‘Thanks,’ she says. ‘I can’t believe we’re actually blood relatives. That Kate has an uncle.’ Mel gives a tiny smile, wondering what Kate will make of that. Anyone claiming that title has a hard act to follow. Michael will always be Kate’s number one ‘uncle’.
‘It’s fate that I found you, I swear,’ Angus says, taking hold of Mel’s hand. ‘And fate that you came to live here, so close to me. What made you move to Halebury?’
Mel looks at him, too distracted to know where to begin. ‘Long story, but in short, I inherited this plac
e.’
Angus arcs his head slowly in acknowledgment as he takes in what she’s saying. ‘Ahh,’ he says. ‘Let me guess, that would have been in the last couple of months, right?’
‘Yes,’ Mel says, frowning.
‘Me too,’ Angus continues, giving a couple of thoughtful nods. ‘As in, I also recently received an inheritance. Though not a hotel, exactly. Just a bit of cash. A useful little sum, but…’ He trails off, shakes his head. ‘Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What matters is finding Kate.’
‘Hang on,’ Mel says. ‘You had an inheritance at the same time as me?’
Angus nods.
‘Who from?’ Mel sits forward on the edge of her seat.
‘The strange thing is,’ Angus says, ‘I have no idea. And no way of finding out, either. It was all very cloak-and-dagger. It was completely anonymous.’
Mel’s shoulders slump as she recognises the story. ‘Same here,’ she says. ‘I was told the benefactor wanted to remain unidentified. Frankly, I wasn’t in a position to argue. I’d just lost my job and my abusive ex was…’ She trails off. ‘Anyway, I had no idea how many other beneficiaries there were, least of all one who would turn out to be my brother. Do you think it was from a relative?’
‘Possibly,’ Angus says. ‘But I’m as in the dark as you about it.’
Mel watches him, seeing a grey, sad look sweep over his face. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asks, reaching out to him.
Angus shakes his head, his floppy fringe falling over his brow, making Mel catch her breath. She swears she sees a likeness with Kate – that faraway look in his eyes, the way his mouth quivers before he speaks. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘No, tell me,’ she insists. ‘As you said, we’re family.’ Her heart thumps as she suddenly remembers that half of hers is missing. ‘It’ll keep me occupied until the police come.’
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