Chapter Twenty-Six

‘Do I look dreadful?’ Sally asked, still groggy from the anaesthetic.

‘Yep, but beautiful nonetheless,’ David assured her.

Sally’s mouth curved into the tiniest of smiles. ‘Flatterer,’ she mumbled.

David smiled back, and squeezed her hand. He watched as Sally’s eyelids grew heavy. She’d drift in and out for a while, he guessed. The painkillers were obviously doing their job. She’d be sore, but she was alive, fortunately. The appendix had been gangrenous, dangerously close to bursting. Why she hadn’t called an ambulance before, he couldn’t fathom. Yes, he could, he realised, instinctively checking the drip before he left.

Because she hadn’t wanted an ambulance pulling up to alert him to the fact that he wasn’t an expectant father, after all.

David felt a pang of regret. Having again been reminded that life was too short, far from being furious with Sally, he now felt sorry for her. Sorry that he’d used her. Yes, it might have been mutual, but … Did he really imagine he was the only one in need of solace? That only he wanted someone to help him release the pent-up frustration that comes with loss of love, faith, life? Detached sex didn’t work, he’d learned that now. There was always baggage around it. Always consequences. She’d obviously been depressed, very, if she’d been on anti-depressants, which she’d admitted she had before she’d gone down for surgery. The consequences, he now realised, could actually have been a lot worse.

‘I’ll be back,’ he promised, leaving her to get some sleep. He’d collect some stuff for her, he decided, a nightdress, toiletries, etc. He hadn’t really got a clue what she might need, though. Andrea would be the best person to ask, he supposed, assuming she’d give him the time of day, which he very much doubted after his revelations about Eden. David fervently wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Andrea would have found out eventually just what kind of snake in the grass the guy was. But then, David’s concern had been about what might happen in the interim.

Sighing, he headed off down the corridor, remembering he’d had a text alert as he did. Pulling his mobile from his pocket, he checked it as he walked and noted he’d actually had several texts, plus two missed calls – all from Ryan. Jake? Speed dialling Ryan back as he broke into a run, David banged through the exit doors and stopped dead.

‘Missing?’ He tried to make sense of what Ryan was saying. ‘What, Dee and Chloe? Shit! I’m on my way.’

‘Sophie, where are you going?’ Andrea shouted, berated herself for shouting, then tried to breathe past the tight knot in her chest.

‘To meet Ryan!’ Sophie shouted back, already half out of the door. ‘To look for them, Mum. Where d’y’think? There’s no point in us all standing around here.’

Andrea closed her eyes. ‘Go.’ She nodded, trying to stay calm, to think rationally when all rational thought seemed to have deserted her. ‘But be careful!’

‘I will.’ Sophie headed off, down through the shop.

‘Phone me if you hear anything,’ Andrea called after her. ‘And keep your mobile switched on.’

‘It’s on,’ Sophie called back, and then she, too, was gone – into the dark night, and Andrea didn’t think she could bear to do this, not all over again. ‘Where are they?’ She turned back to Jonathan, panic gripping her stomach like a vice.

‘I don’t know,’ Jonathan said, looking as shocked as she felt. ‘I …’

‘The police?’ Andrea turned towards him, dragging her hands over her face, through her hair. ‘You said they were coming. They should be here by now, surely? Where are they?’

‘Andrea, I don’t know.’ Jonathan shrugged helplessly. ‘On their way probably.’

‘But why are they taking so long?’ Andrea checked her watch, where the last ten minutes had ticked heavily by like ten hours and two lifetimes. ‘We need to ring them again,’ she said, searching fruitlessly for her own mobile. ‘They shouldn’t be taking—’

‘I have, Andrea! I’ve rung them twice. They’ll be here soon.’ Jonathan came towards her, tried to wrap his arms around her.

Andrea pulled away. ‘I have to go,’ she said.

‘Go … where?’

‘Sophie’s right. We have to look. Scour the streets. There’s no point—’

‘Andrea, wait,’ Jonathan said as she flew to the door. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘No, you need to stay here. Someone needs to be here.’

‘She’s my daughter, Andrea.’ Jonathan caught up with her. ‘If anything’s happened to her because of that demented, old …’

Andrea turned back, blind fury bubbling up in her chest. ‘She’s my daughter, too! And that’s my mother you’re talking about!’ She flailed a hand at him, uselessly. She had no strength. Nothing left. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t.

Jonathan caught her wrists. ‘Stop,’ he said firmly. ‘Breathe, Andrea. Come on. It’ll be all right. We’ll find them. The lights were still on at Tiny Tots. We’ll ask Beki to keep an eye on things here. Okay?’

Andrea nodded and shook her head all at once, then hurried off ahead of him, impatient to go, to be doing something; anything.

‘We’ll go together. My car’s out front,’ Jonathan said behind her as Andrea hit the street. ‘You keep a lookout, I’ll drive.’

Andrea caught the keys he tossed to her and climbed in the passenger side. She didn’t want to discuss it, didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to go. ‘Come on,’ she urged him as Jonathan tried to attract Beki’s attention through her shop window. She was obviously stocktaking, probably out back. ‘Hurry up. Please.’

Where were they? Andrea gulped back another nauseating wave of panic as she waited. Where would her mother take Chloe at this time of night? It would be pitch black out of the village. There wasn’t even a moon. Where could she have …?

Oh no, no … ‘She’s gone home,’ she said numbly as Jonathan climbed in the driver’s side. Fear settling like ice in her chest, Andrea pictured the little riverside cottage at the dead of night. It was under renovation; she recalled with sinking dread, building works beyond it – and two huge river locks only yards in front of it.

Humping the car half on the pavement in his haste to park it, David banged out of the driver’s side. ‘Any news?’ he shouted to the group now gathered outside the shop.

‘Nothing,’ the girl from the Tiny Tots shop said. ‘They’re all out,’ she added as David ran towards the entrance to Andrea’s flat.

‘Searching,’ Eva said anxiously. ‘We were just organising a search group ourselves.’

‘Has someone notified the police?’ David asked, never more relieved to see a group of gossiping neighbours. Please, someone find them, and soon. Andrea would be insane with worry. What on earth had possessed the old woman to …?

‘Jonathan,’ the girl supplied. ‘He said he’d phoned them twice and asked me to wait here in case they came.’

Eden? Cold foreboding washed over David. ‘Right,’ he said tightly, exchanging concerned glances with Eva.

Dammit, what had he been thinking? He should have informed the police the old woman was living in fear of her life, instead of waiting around for the investment company to complete its bloody investigations; for the household insurers to pay out, which David had truly hoped they would, as it would have meant there were no suspicious circumstances around the cause of the fire. His gut told him differently but David would much prefer Eden had played no part in it, for Andrea’s sake. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he’d never intended his family any harm, possibly didn’t intend Dee any harm, but she had been worried about what lengths he might go to in trying to retrieve that document, that evidence of his fraudulence. That’s why she’d taken off into the damp, dark night when Eden showed up. Why she’d taken Chloe though, David couldn’t understand.

Unless … Had she thought Eden might take her? It was possible, absconding with his daughter seeming a better option than fighting for custody through the courts, particularly if his character turned out to be questionable.

So what the hell did he do now? Search, David supposed, though with no streetlights beyond the village, it would be like searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. At least he’d got Ryan with him, which might help in terms of possible locations. Jake was with them too. David would prefer he wasn’t, but he’d had no choices there. At least he’d be another set of eyes.

‘We’ll drive around,’ he said, offering Eva a reassuring smile. She looked worried to death, too. Her face was ashen. Whatever he was up to, that bastard Eden had got one hell of a lot to answer for. David swallowed back his anger as he turned back to his car.

‘Anything from Sophie yet?’ he asked Ryan, climbing inside.

‘Nothing,’ Ryan said, thumbing another text urgently into his phone.

‘Your mum?’

‘Nope.’ Ryan sighed.

‘She might have left her mobile upstairs,’ Jake suggested, nodding towards the shop. ‘If she was worried, I mean. She could’ve come out without it.’

‘Good thinking, Jake.’ David climbed out again. ‘I’ll be two minutes.’

‘I’ll try Jonathan,’ Ryan said behind him.

It actually took David one minute to locate the missing phone. Ringing it as he let himself in with his spare set of keys, he’d walked straight over to where it had apparently fallen – into Jonathan’s overcoat pocket?

Sophie hadn’t been sure what she was going to ask if there was anyone around. ‘Helloo, you haven’t seen a barmy old bat tripping along the towpath in her nightie, have you?’ she fancied might make her sound as loopy as her gran.

The place was deserted though. Not a soul about, making it dead creepy. The old British Waterways cottage looked like it was empty, too. Apprehensively, Sophie tucked her mobile in her pocket and ducked under the scaffolding to try the front door. Locked. Pants.

Now what did she do? Stepping back, she glanced at the windows upstairs and down, all dark, like blind eyes watching her. Sophie shuddered as a cold shiver ran the length of her spine. She’d thought her gran might be in there. Obviously, she wasn’t. She had a listen. Not a sound, bar the plop-plopping she kept hearing from the water, which was totally spooking her. The wind whipping the trees were giving her the collywobbles, too.

And the crunches on the gravel she could swear she could hear behind … ‘Crap!’ Sophie nearly shot out of her trainers as some prehistoric looking bird with a wingspan of yards took off in the distance to swoop low over the weir.

She didn’t like it here. Growing more apprehensive as she stood alone in the unfriendly night, Sophie looked sharply over her shoulder, definitely hearing something behind her now, a scuffling and shuffling, like a … ‘Oooh, God,’ … if it was a water rat, she was gone. Outta there.

She didn’t fancy going back the way she’d come, though. Nervously, she peered back across the locks to where the taxi had dropped her off, and then blinked, then blinked again, then swallowed.

Oh no. Oh no. She took a step back, away from the pale apparition floating petrifyingly along the footbridge. Oh, G— ‘Gran!’ Sophie scowled and planted her hands on her hips as Dee came into view. ‘What the bloody hell are you doin’, Gran? You almost gave me a heart attack.’

‘Going home,’ Dee said, bypassing her to head for the front door, Chloe in her arms.

‘I gathered,’ Sophie said, reaching for Chloe, who at least had her denim jacket on over her jim-jams. Her gran too had a coat on over her nightie, which Sophie supposed was slightly less embarrassing than it might have been.

‘But how did you get here?’ she asked as Dee ferreted in her coat pockets.

‘By taxi, obviously,’ Dee informed her. ‘I haven’t sprouted wings yet, much to Jonathan’s disappointment.’

‘Right.’ Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘Um, Gran, how’re you going to get in?’

‘Key,’ Dee announced, producing said key from her coat, bobbing under the scaffolding and letting herself in.

‘Right.’ Sophie nodded resignedly as Chloe jiggled and said, ‘Sophie, wanna wee-wee.’

‘Hurry up then, Sophie,’ Dee gestured her on in, ‘before the child wets her knickers.’

‘I think I already did.’ Sophie sighed, ducked, and shuffled inside.

Assuming the High Street had already been checked, David double-checked it anyway, hoping that Dee had realised it was way too late and cold to be wandering around with Chloe and decided to come back home. Waiting in a doorway, possibly, making sure Jonathan’s car wasn’t around?

David slowed at all likely doorways, then cruised to a stop as he noted a parked police patrol car, also noting the premises it was parked outside of – Jonathan Eden Investment Management Services, no less. Strange they should be calling here when the shop Andrea’s apartment was over, and presumably the address Eden would have given when he’d called, was the other end of the High Street.

‘I’ll just have a quick word. See if they have any news,’ David said to Ryan, whose complexion had drained of all colour, he noticed. Yes, Eden most definitely had a lot to answer for. And answer he would if David got hold of him.

It didn’t take long for him to establish the police were not looking for Dee and Chloe. David had wondered about the police being so keen to attend a callout regarding a grandmother gone missing with her own grandchild when they’d only been missing for … what, a couple of hours? It didn’t add up to David. This did though. Apparently, it was Eden they were looking for. In regard to a certain other premises, David pondered, one that had conveniently caught fire? Eden hadn’t called them. That much was clear. There was no way he would want the police sniffing around now, which is why Andrea’s phone had got lost in his bloody pocket.

Yes, the man most definitely had some questions to answer, and David would like no better pleasure than to put those questions to him, preferably in some secluded location. ‘No news,’ he said, offering Ryan a small smile as he climbed back in the car.

Ryan nodded, holding eye contact with David briefly, before looking away. ‘Just don’t tell me no news is good news,’ he said, gazing out of the passenger window, composing himself, David guessed.

‘We’ll find ’em, Ryan, don’t worry,’ Jake said, placing a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. ‘We won’t give up until we do. Will we, Dad?’

‘We won’t, Jake,’ David assured his serious-faced son.

‘That’s what mates are for, right, Jake?’ Ryan said, even now trying to look out for Jake, David realised. He didn’t know who Ryan’s father was or where he was, but he’d missed out big time.

Determined to do all he could, in the absence of any kind of a father, David started the engine, took a right, and a left, all eyes on pavements and passers-by as they went. No sign of the old lady.

Sighing, he took another road, then, ‘Got a text!’ Ryan said as David paused at a T-junction. ‘It’s Sophe.’

‘And?’ David waited, holding his breath.

‘Weak signal. At the cottage. G&C safe,’ Ryan read. ‘She means Gran’s cottage! Take a right.’

Relieved, David exhaled, and did as bid, taking a right heading for the main Worcester Road.

‘It’s by Diglis Locks, on the River Severn. You can park opposite, and then we approach it on foot over the locks.’

‘The locks?’ David wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Dee climbing over lock gates with a toddler.

‘It’s an old British Waterways cottage,’ Ryan explained. ‘Only accessible via the towpath, at least until they’ve finished the renovations. David,’ he hesitated, ‘do you think Jonathan was right, about Gran needing to go away, I mean?’

David tensed his grip on the wheel and glanced sideways at Ryan, debating. Should he tell him? Some, he decided, but not all of it. The fire and probable cause of it, he’d leave out. He couldn’t justify dropping that kind of bombshell without being sure that’s why the police wanted to ‘have a word’ with Eden. The rest? If Andrea wanted nothing to do with him again, so be it. But she’d need someone to look out for her. David reckoned Ryan might be man enough to do that.

‘Truthfully …’ David tugged in a breath. ‘… no, Ryan, I don’t. I think it was Dee who was right thinking she needed to get away from Jonathan.’

Sophie read the document Dee handed to her, then re-read it and blinked at her gran, puzzled. ‘I don’t get it. What’s it supposed to prove?’

‘It’s a forgery,’ Dee said, her chin jutting determinedly. ‘Jonathan never invested Eva’s money. This …’ She jabbed a finger at the evidence. ‘… proves he intended to defraud the old bat out of her cash. He knows I have it and he wants it back. But I’m …’ She jabbed her finger at her chest. ‘… not about to let him have it.’

‘Sophie, want upsies,’ Chloe demanded, hanging onto Sophie’s jumper.

‘Inaminit munchkin.’ Sophie looked from the piece of paper to her gran and back worriedly. The document didn’t look like a fake, but then what did a fake look like? If it was genuine though, it must mean Jonathan had stolen the money, she supposed. ‘Is that why you thought he was trying to do away with you, Gran?’ She eyed Dee, concerned.

‘He’d do anything to get that back, Sophie, you mark my words.’ Dee wagged a finger at her. ‘And then, if he couldn’t bump me off, he wanted me shipped off to some old fogies home where everyone would think I was totally gaga. Well, I’m not, so there!’

Dee stopped jabbing and wagging fingers to fold her arms, defiantly.

‘I know you’re not, Gran.’ Sophie felt her cheeks flush up to her emo anime hairdo.

‘He’s not taking Chloe either,’ Dee said, somewhat placated but still adamant. ‘Thought he’d “say hello to her”, wants to “say goodbye to her”, my eye. Do I look like I was born yesterday?’

Sophie looked her gran over, more worried than ever now. Jonathan had said he was going away, but … he wouldn’t take Chloe. Would he?

‘No, Gran, you don’t,’ she assured her. ‘Come on,’ she said, giving her a firm hug, ‘let’s find somewhere we can all sit and cuddle up together until Ryan gets here.’

The document still in her hand, Sophie reached to pick up a jiggling Chloe, and then froze as a torch beam illuminated a thousand dust motes through the window.

‘Crap!’ Sophie gulped back her racing heart. ‘That’ll be Ryan.’ She looked towards the front door, relieved for the first time since forever to be setting eyes on her annoying brother.

‘But it might not,’ Dee whispered, clutching her arm as the torch beam swept the walls. ‘It might be him.’ At which she turned to flee to the kitchen.

‘Gran, wait!’ Sophie hissed, struggling to get hold of Chloe, who’d given up on the jiggling and was gearing up for a tantrum. Oooh, Gran! ‘Come on, Chloe, let’s go find Granny, shall we?’

‘No want to,’ Chloe whined and dug her heels in.

‘Chloe, come on munchkin,’ Sophie tried to lift her, eyeing the door in panic as the door handle rattled.

‘Nooo want to,’ Chloe wailed.

‘Chloe?’ Jonathan’s voice came from outside.

‘Want Dad-dee,’ Chloe wriggled, and …

‘Crap!’ Sophie lost her grip on her as the front door banged wide.

‘What the bloody hell’s going on?’ Jonathan demanded. ‘Come here, baby.’ He swept a snotty-nosed Chloe up into his arms and glared at Sophie furiously.

‘Nothing. I …’ Sophie stuttered, torn between turning tail after her gran and nipping past him through the front door. ‘We—’

‘Sophie?’ Andrea came in behind Jonathan, eyeing her accusingly. Far from being relieved, Sophie felt as if she’d been tried, judged and was about to be executed. Hello, not guilty, she wanted to point out, but guessed by the look on both their faces they weren’t about to start listening.

‘Gran,’ she waved an arm behind her, ‘she—’

‘Silly, senile old fool, ought to be bloody well locked up,’ Jonathan seethed, taking a step forward.

‘She’s not senile. She’s …’ Sophie stopped, her eyes falling on the document Dee had gone to such pains to keep secret lying barely six inches from Jonathan’s feet. Oh, way to go, Sophe. She closed her eyes as, following her gaze, Jonathan bent to sweep the document up before she could make any attempt to try to reach it.

Straightening up, Jonathan locked eyes with hers, a question in his, Sophie noticed. He wasn’t sure whether she’d seen it! ‘She’s worried that’s all, about why she keeps forgetting things,’ she went on, deciding playing ignorant was definitely her best option. ‘Like she could forget she’d got Chloe in her arms when she walked out the door, barmy old bat. She’s driving me mental, I swear.’

Sighing audibly, Sophie puffed up her purple fringe, rolled her eyes sky-high and turned for the kitchen.

‘Why didn’t you ring us, Sophie?’ Andrea said behind her. ‘I’ve been out of my mind with worry. I told you to—’

‘Oh, right.’ Sophie turned back, arms folded demonstratively. ‘Like, have a go at me, why don’t you? I only flipping found her, didn’t I? There’s no signal, is there, obviously.’

With which Sophie shook her head and turned to strop on to the kitchen. ‘Act like normal,’ she whispered in her gran’s ear.