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THE GLOW OF THE REUNION with Mick lasted several days. The bleak loneliness was replaced by a feeling of joy, which started the moment Janine woke up. He was gone again but promised they would make plans when he returned a week later. “We have to come out in the open now,” he declared, as they sat in his car outside her house. “I don’t give a shit about what anyone says anymore.”
“Neither do I,” she said, her head on his shoulder. “And I think enough time has gone by since I left London. Everyone will have forgotten me by now.”
He looked at her. “You never told me your story. Who are you really? Or, who were you in that past life of yours?”
She shrugged. “No one of any importance. I’ll tell you everything when you come back. I’m too tired right now.”
He hugged her tightly. “All right. I can wait. I know you now and that’s all that matters. Your past has nothing to do with me. God knows my own past is not too pretty.”
“I don’t care.”
“Good.” He gave her a quick kiss, and she went inside to the warmth of her bed and her dreams and thoughts about what had just happened.
-o-
Janine didn’t know exactly when she realised she was being watched. It wasn’t any one thing or seeing any one person. It was just a feeling. Having had to dodge photographers for so many years, her antennae were fine-tuned to invisible prying eyes. She was used to looking over her shoulder when she went out, peering around aisles in the supermarket or quickly checking there was nobody around when she came out of the ladies’ toilet in restaurants. In those situations, she could spot a photographer in seconds.
In this remote countryside, however, it was a different matter. There was nothing to be seen, but there was something in the air, she felt. Shadows seemed to loom up as she walked on the beach. The tall, rough grass in the dunes swayed in a strange way, even when there was no wind and there were strange little sounds behind the hedges as she went on her solitary walks up country lanes. Maybe I’m just extra sensitive after the episode with Jake, she thought. And my nerves are on edge after the row with Mick and our last encounter. I’ll just carry on and try to calm down.
She went to Beata for reassurance. “You haven’t seen anyone strange hanging around?” Janine asked.
In the cosy kitchen, Beata bounced baby Sean on her lap. “Apart from Boris? No. Why do you ask?”
Janine shrugged. “Just a feeling. I can’t explain it but...”
Beata nodded. “I know what you mean. My dad was in a bit of political trouble in Poland. With the communists. And he also had that feeling. He knew when someone was watching him. Nobody saw anything strange but he always knew.”
“What did he do then?”
“He just slipped away. Didn’t tell anyone. He just left. We knew where he went—to a friend in Gdansk who could hide him for a while until the heat was off. Then he’d go on a long trip on one of the trawlers. Didn’t come back for a year or so. Happened a few times. I remember it well. I was very young, about eight or nine, but I’ll never forget the fear in my mother’s eyes.”
“What would have happened if he’d been caught?” Janine asked.
“He would have disappeared. Sent to one of those Gulag places, never to be heard of again. Thank God that didn’t happen. And thank God for the revolution and freedom at last.” Beata peered at the baby, who had fallen asleep on her lap. “Look at him. You wouldn’t think he was roaring at five in the morning. Looks like a perfect little angel.” She gently lifted him up and put him in the pram beside her.
Janine smiled at the baby’s peaceful face. He was a beautiful child, with none of his father’s rough features or his mother’s pale-blue eyes. It was as if he had been given everything that was attractive about his parents and none of their rough edges. “He’s so cute.”
“Yes. They’re both gorgeous boys. Brendan’s just the same. Maybe they were switched at birth with another set of twins as ugly as Boris and me? Maybe there’s a gorgeous couple out there somewhere, looking at their butt-ugly twins and wondering what the hell happened?” She looked tenderly at the sleeping baby. “But I’ll never change these little hunks for anyone else’s. Look at those eyelashes. Wouldn’t you kill for a set of those?”
Janine looked at the baby’s thick black lashes fanned over his rosy cheeks and had to agree. “Beautiful. Where’s his brother?”
“Boris has him in the office while he’s working. We thought it best to separate them today. They seem to set each other off. They’re teething. Oh shit, he’s waking up again. Now he’ll make us deaf with his screaming.”
But the baby didn’t cry. He just looked at them with his large, dark-blue eyes, smiled and went back to sleep.
Beata relaxed. “Phew, he just wanted to shoot you one of his special smiles. He’s such a flirt. Now he’ll sleep for a bit. Do you want a cup of tea?”
“No, thanks, I have to get going.”
“Okay. But give me a call if you see anyone hanging around. I could whizz you out in no time in my van and take you to Tralee or something.”
“Thanks. I’m probably just being silly, anyway. It was just that I had this feeling...”
Beata nodded, looking serious. “Feelings shouldn’t be ignored.”
-o-
The ‘feeling’ was confirmed a few days later. On her way to her car, Janine noticed something sticking out behind a tree at the front gate. Something horribly familiar. A telephoto lens. She heard a camera click several times. Her heart beating, she hastily retreated inside the house and peered out from behind the curtain. Yes. There he was. A photographer, looking at the house, his camera at the ready. She could see him take out his mobile phone. Probably reporting to a newspaper or journalist. Or even already e-mailing the picture to the media. They had found her.
It didn’t take long for the photo to appear in the press. It started with an article on the front of the British edition of The Sun the following day. She didn’t know about it until Brian phoned her, saying he had seen it on a news stand in Tralee. He popped in to see her, throwing the newspaper on her kitchen table. “Shit, Janine, I’m so sorry. The bastards found you.”
She stared at the front page and the slightly fuzzy photo of herself, walking to her car and the headline that said Escaped Celebrity Found in Remote Part of Ireland. She gasped. “I can’t believe it! What does the article say? I can’t bear to read it.”
He picked up the paper. “It says you, I mean Marie-Louise Nikolaides, former wife of blah, blah, who mysteriously disappeared about a year ago, has been found hiding in a remote part of the Dingle peninsula, where she is well known by the locals as a sexy stranger who has caught the attention of the male population of this little village. She has stirred up a lot of trouble by seducing any man who takes her fancy.”
Janine stared at him. “You’re joking.”
He shook his head sadly. “No. That’s what it says. Bastards.”
She sank down on a chair. “What am I going to do? I have to leave.”
Brian shrugged. “I don’t know what you can do. But you can’t keep running. They’ll always find you.”
“That’s true.” She felt tears of frustration well up. “Who did this? Who told the press? Someone must have contacted the newspapers.”
“Someone who wants you to leave?”
She stared at him. “I only know one person with that particular agenda.”
He nodded. “Yes, me too. But I find it hard to believe she’d go to such lengths.”
“So do I. She’s a nice woman and in different circumstances the kind of person I’d be very happy to have as a friend.”
“Why don’t you ask her? Rita’s very honest. I’ve never known her to tell a lie.”
“How? I can’t have this kind of conversation on the phone. But I can’t go out the door. There’s always someone lurking by the gate. I have to order food online now. Did you see anyone when you drove in?”
He sighed. “Yes. There was a small van parked down the road and this guy with a camera strolling up the lane, pretending to be a tourist.” He sat down and ran a hand over his face. “This is one hell of a mess. But you could call the Guards and tell them they’re invading your privacy. And this article is slander. You could sue the newspaper.”
Janine wrapped her arms around herself. “No. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want more lawyers and court appearances. And after that, even more attention.”
She got up from the table. “I’ll make coffee.”
“Thanks. I have to get going. The pub opens in an hour.” He looked thoughtfully at her. “You know, you could contact the newspaper and issue a warning. Say that if they don’t stop printing lies about you, you’ll have to take legal action or something like that.”
She laughed ironically. “Oh yes? And a trashy tabloid will take notice? I doubt that very much. You have to take out the big guns to scum like that.”
“I suppose you’re right. Maybe they’ll get tired if nothing happens.”
Janine switched on the coffee machine. “Or other tabloids will take up the story. Whatever happens, I’m stuck.”
“For the moment, anyway.”
Janine put a steaming cup in front of Brian. “And then, of course, everyone in the village will be looking at me and talking about me behind my back. But I’m sure that’s already happened. I’ve noticed people whispering when I go into a shop or a pub. But I thought that was just because I’m a stranger.”
“I’m sure that’s the case. I’ve heard some talk but nothing nasty. They call you ‘that French woman’, or ‘the foreign chick’. I’ve heard them talk about you but only little bits of conversations, and they all seem to like you. I don’t think any of them would take much notice, even if they see the article, which I doubt, anyway.”
“Ha, I wouldn’t be too sure. This kind of thing always gets around.”
-o-
This proved to be true. When Janine ventured into the village, there was silence as she bought milk and bread at the local shop. The other customers avoided looking at her, and then she could see them talking when she had left. Old women to whom she normally said hello, scurried inside when she passed, their net curtains moving once their doors were slammed shut. And when Janine, in the cover of darkness, walked up the little path by the river to Paudie’s house, Megan immediately asked if she had seen the story. She had heard it from the girl in the little fish stand by the harbour, where the fishermen sold their catch each day.
Janine nodded. “Yes. I was hoping nobody would recognise me. That photo was a bit fuzzy.”
“It’s unmistakable. I’m so sorry, Janine. Please, come in. We’ve had supper, but we could have some wine and cheese by the fire.”
Janine peeled off her coat and hung it on the hall stand. “That sounds lovely. Are you sure I’m not disturbing you?”
“Not at all. Nelia’s doing her homework in the kitchen, and Paudie’s in the office struggling with the accounts. Of course, I can’t have wine so I’ll make myself some tea.”
Janine followed Megan into the kitchen, where Nelia was at the table with her books.
“Hello, Nelia,” Janine said. “How are you?”
She looked up. “Hi. I’m fine, thanks.” Her tone was warmer than before and her smile friendly.
Megan got busy laying a tray with cheese and bread and switching on the kettle. “We won’t disturb you for long. We’re going into the living room. You can join us when you’ve finished your homework.”
“Okay.” Nelia turned back to her book. “I just have to read this for history and then I’m finished for tonight.”
“Good.” Megan turned to Janine. “Could you get that bottle on the dresser and open it? It’s a Beaujolais. I think it’s okay with the Brie I got in the French cheese shop in Dingle. I’m supposed to get a lot of calcium, so eating nice cheese is a good excuse.”
Janine suddenly remembered something. “I meant to bring you back the rucksack. I borrowed it when I went up the mountains that day.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be hillwalking for a long time. Why don’t you keep it in case you go up there again? There are some useful things in it that might come in handy.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep it then. I really enjoyed that walk, so I’m sure I’ll want to go up there again when the weather’s nice.”
“Great idea,” Megan said and carried the tray into the living room, where Paudie had just lit the fire.
Settled on the red sofa, in front of a blazing fire, Janine felt relaxed for the first time in days. She sipped her wine and nibbled some cheese, feeling grateful to have a friend like Megan. She sank back against the cushions. “Ooh, this is so good. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time.”
“I can imagine. I’m so sorry this had to happen. Must be hell.”
“It’s torture. It brings back so many bad memories. I’m not going to go into it, but believe me, I wouldn’t want anyone to have to go through this.”
Megan stared at Janine. “Who could have told the press about you? Who around here would even know about you? I had never heard of Marie-Louise Nikolaides before yesterday. Even though I’ve been to Paris several times since last year. But then I wouldn’t read French newspapers.”
Janine cut a piece of cheese and put it on a slice of baguette. “That’s what really surprised me. I’ve been going through everyone I know but, apart from one person, I can’t think of anyone who’d have any interest in doing this.”
Megan nodded. “Yes. I thought of that too. Rita. I didn’t think she’d do this kind of thing but if she fancies Mick and sees you as a rival, she might—”
“The woman scorned, you mean?”
“Something like that. You should ask her.”
Janine swallowed her mouthful. “I know. That’s what Brian says. And you know what? I think I will as soon as I can go out in public again.”
Megan put her hand on Janine’s arm. “I’m so sorry. This must be torture for you. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to be hunted like that.”
Janine shuddered. “It’s hell. It feels like...like a kind of rape.”
There was a whimper by the door. They looked up at Nelia standing there, her face white as a sheet.
“Nelia? What’s the matter?” Megan asked, alarmed.
But Nelia didn’t reply. She ran into her room, banging the door shut behind her.
“More teenage drama,” Megan sighed.
But Janine was certain it was a lot more than that.
-o-
Janine couldn’t get the image of Nelia’s pale face out of her mind. She realised that the young girl was suffering some kind of trauma and wondered what it was. What happened next confirmed her fears.
Mick arrived in the late afternoon the next day, breathless, his face white, his eyes bleak. “Nelia’s disappeared,” he panted. “She’s been gone since this morning. I’ve called the Guards and they’re now out looking, going from house to house in the village.”
Janine peered over his shoulder, where he was standing at the door. But there was no sign of the reporters, who had been there earlier. They must have got tired of waiting for her to appear. Or the wind and rain earlier prevented them from lurking. “Come in,” she said, opening the door wider.
He shook his head. “I can’t. I have to go and look for her. Have you seen her? Has she been here today?”
“No, of course not. In fact, she hasn’t been here for a while. She’s cross with me for some reason.”
He pushed his hand through his hair. “I know. So you said. She left for school as usual this morning, on her bike. But she never got there. They called Megan from school around ten o’clock, saying Nelia was absent and they wondered if she was ill. Megan had to tell them she wasn’t at home either. I arrived from the airport just after they called. We started looking for her around the farm and up the mountain path. Then we asked Assumpta if she knew anything and she said no. We’ve even searched the beaches. Nothing.”
“Oh God, Mick. That’s terrible. Where are you going now?”
“Tralee. She might have gone there. I’m going to join some of the Guards who are looking around, showing her photo. Maybe the hospital—” Tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke.
Without thinking, Janine hugged him close. “I’m sure she’s all right. You’ll find her. She probably just took a day off or something.”
He pulled away. “No, I’m sure that’s not what happened. Wouldn’t be like her at all. I think she took off because of something that happened to her. Maybe she’s being bullied at school or on the Internet. If that’s what’s driven her away, I’ll find the bastards and make sure they pay for it.”
Janine stared at him, horrified by the pain in his eyes. “Yes. I’m sure you will. I hope you find them, if that’s the case. But what can I do? Can I go with you?”
“No. But I thought I’d ask you if you could walk up the river and see if there’s any sign of her? And maybe the beach, near the house? We’ve already looked there but it wouldn’t hurt to look again. It was hard to see in the rain this morning. But now the sun’s come out so it’ll be easier.”
Janine nodded. “Of course. I’ll do anything.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you. I know you’re going through some hard stuff yourself, and I think we need to talk. Megan told me about it. But not now. Not here. We have to find Nelia first. She means everything to me.”
“Of course. Nothing is more urgent right now.”
“Nothing,” he agreed. “I have to go. I just wanted to say...well, that you mean a lot to me.”
She nodded. “So do you. To me, I mean. But go now, and I’ll get going on my own search. I’ll bring my mobile so we can call each other if either of us finds her.”
He turned and walked away. Janine watched him leave with a sinking feeling that they might not find Nelia alive. She shook herself, trying to rid her mind of such morbid thoughts. She went up to her bedroom and changed her tee shirt and leggings for jeans and a warm sweater. As the sunny day had turned into a chilly afternoon with a cutting north wind, Janine packed Megan’s rucksack with a thermos of hot tea, an extra sweater and a pair of binoculars. She took her winter jacket from the hook in the hall.
While she was getting ready, she considered all the different places Nelia could have disappeared to. Janine decided to first walk up the path by the river all the way to Paudie’s house, then walk back to the beach and continue her search there. Then, suddenly, as if an inner voice was pointing her in the right direction, she remembered something: a word, a bit of a sentence... something Nelia had said quite recently. If you felt everyone hated you, that’s where you’d go to disappear... Listening to that inner voice, Janine changed her plans and got into her car.
-o-
She knew it was insanity. She knew it would be dangerous, and she also knew it was just a wild guess. But the something that had made her drive up the winding road to the foot of Caherconree was like a driving force, an unstoppable urge.
Nelia’s words echoed through her mind as she parked the car and got out, staring up at the jagged top of the mountain and the outline of the ruined fort. She shivered involuntarily as she remembered Mick’s warning: That path is very dangerous. Full of sinkholes as well. You could sink down to your waist if you weren’t careful. People have got lost and there have been serious accidents. She spotted something lying on the ground behind the bend. Walking closer, she saw what it was. Nelia’s mountain bike. She had been right. Nelia was up there somewhere and had to be found. The sun came out of the clouds, as if on cue, encouraging her. Janine hitched the rucksack on her back and closed the car door. She paused for a moment. I’d better call Mick and let him know. She took off her rucksack and hauled out her phone. The signal was weak here, she knew but she had to try.
He answered immediately. “Janine? Any news?”
“Yes. I’ve found her bike. At the bottom of Caherconree. At the beginning of the trail to the top. I think she’s up there, somewhere.”
“Oh God!” There was a pause, during which she could hear Mick talking to someone. Then he came back. “Don’t do anything until we get there. We’re in Tralee but we’re turning back. We’ll be there in about twenty minutes to half an hour at the most. Stay by your car so we can find you.”
“But if she’s up there all alone, I have to go and help her,” Janine protested. “It will be dark around six o’clock.”
“I know but...it’s so dangerous. Better to wait until I can get there with some help. We’ll call Mountain Rescue too.”
“But—”
“No. Don’t do anything silly. Just wait, okay?” He hung up.
Janine stared at the phone, then up at the mountain and the dark clouds swirling around the fort at the top. What a forbidding place. She couldn’t bear thinking about Nelia up there, somewhere, lost, maybe badly hurt. Janine dialled Mick’s number again, but all she got was his voicemail. He must have been talking to Mountain Rescue. She looked up at the mountain again. Nelia, where are you? Janine hitched the rucksack onto her back. With steely determination, she walked up the steep incline and started to walk up the rough path.
