The Baxter House
Lowther Hills
How long had she been here? Was it a day, two days; two days and two nights? The dusty light was always on and she’d slept some of the time, so it wasn’t possible to tell. Mackenzie guessed he’d check on her probably every twenty-four hours while he waited for the ransom to be paid. He’d been twice, the second time bringing the tracksuit, the food and the other stuff.
She looked down at the tracksuit, a relic from a charity shop, and bit her lip; the dress had been so pretty. Derek would ask for proof she was still alive. Maybe they’d sent it to him to persuade him not to call the police. The kidnappers – for some reason she assumed there was more than one – would’ve warned him not to involve them. Didn’t they always do that? But what if he had? What if he’d called the police? Her husband was a man used to giving orders, not taking them. Then the kidnappers would know and abandon her? Maybe they already had?
She muttered questions without answers, her frantic voice echoing in the basement, searching for reassurance and finding only confusion.
‘Derek’s smart, he wouldn’t do anything stupid.’
Her mind raced backwards and forwards over the same ground.
‘But he’s stubborn. He might.’
Mackenzie felt as if her brain was about to explode. She put her hands to her head and shouted. ‘Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!’
The sound of a car door slamming snapped her out of it. She crawled onto the bed and waited, watching clouds of dust fall from the rafters. The door opened and the man in the black coat came down the stairs. He placed a coffee, a carton of soup and more sandwiches on the floor near her and turned to go. She scrambled towards him. ‘Wait. Please wait. Has my husband given you the money? He’s getting it for you, isn’t he?’
Her jailer eyed her coldly.
‘When will he come for me? When can I go home?’
For the first time the stalker spoke. And behind the balaclava Mackenzie Crawford knew he was smiling. ‘You crazy bitch. What the fuck are you talking about?’
The bedside clock showed two-fifteen when the baby cried out. Her father wasn’t asleep. The conversation with Adele had left him tossing and turning and worrying.
Gavin went to his daughter and held her against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of her tiny body through the Babygro, sensing her big eyes watching him in the dark while her mother snored gently. He padded through to the kitchen and put on the light. The feed was in the fridge. He reheated it and sat on the couch cradling Alice in the crook of his arm, holding the bottle to her mouth with the other.
His thoughts returned to his sisters. They may have come from the same gene pool but the girls were very different. Mackenzie had been a late baby, a ‘surprise’ his mother called her. And from the day she’d brought her home, Adele had been jealous of the new addition to the family. Of course she wouldn’t admit it, probably wasn’t even aware of it.
Marrying a man with a soft spot for the young teenager Mackenzie had been when Blair first met her hadn’t helped and Derek’s claim to have seen Mackenzie getting into a blue Vectra like her husband’s had driven her over the edge. But they’d be fine, he didn’t doubt it. Blair Gardiner was one of the good guys.
Derek and Mackenzie were another story; their troubles had deeper roots. What was going on with them was more complicated. Adele liked Derek and came down firmly on his side. Maybe she was right, though from what Gavin had seen there was more to it than that. Mackenzie’s outburst at the party was revealing, as if she’d wanted to humiliate her husband in front of them.
And something more, beyond the booze talking – despair.
Alice had stopped taking the milk and gone back to sleep. Her father kissed her forehead noticing the long blonde eyelashes she’d got from him. He didn’t have Derek Crawford’s cash. Then again, he didn’t have his problems either. Swings and roundabouts, although not exactly. Money couldn’t buy what he was holding in his hands.
He lay Alice in her cot and pulled the single sheet over her. She kicked it off and her father smiled. Gratitude washed through him. Unlike his brother-in-law, he was a lucky man. Derek had to be feeling low right now. He’d visit him after work and try to find out what was at the heart of it. Maybe he could help.
Gavin joined the motorway at Charing Cross. From the Kingston Bridge the silver skin of the Armadillo sparkled in the afternoon sunshine like the giant ant-eater it resembled. In the distance, a jet was making its descent into Glasgow Airport.
He’d called his brother-in-law late-morning and got the impression he’d caught him off guard; there was a wariness which could be embarrassment. After all, his wife had just left him for another man. From what Adele said, he’d half-expected Derek to be maudlin drunk. He wasn’t. Perhaps he’d have been more friendly if he had.
‘Derek? It’s Gavin. How’re you doing?’
The reply was thick with resentment. ‘How do you think I’m doing? What do you want?’
He ignored the hostility in Crawford’s voice and went on. ‘To tell you how sorry Monica and I are about what’s happened.’
‘Really? Thought you’d be pleased.’
‘Of course I’m not pleased. Why would I be pleased?’
‘Because you were against her marrying me in the first place?’
‘I wasn’t against it.’
‘You tried to talk her out of it. She told me.’
‘Not true. I’m her brother. I was concerned about the age difference. This is something else. Everybody thinks she’s made a terrible mistake.’
Derek spoke in a monotone. ‘Nice to hear.’
‘Look, why don’t I come over, say around six? We can talk.’
‘Don’t see what it’ll achieve. You’re Mackenzie’s brother. When the chips are down you’ll side with her. That’s how it works, isn’t it?’
‘Not with me. It isn’t a question of sides. You’re part of the family.’
The response was tinged with impatience and disbelief. ‘I appreciate what you’re doing but I prefer to work through this my own way, if you don’t mind. No need to put yourself out.’
‘I won’t be putting myself out.’
Derek breathed heavily on the other end of the line. Reluctantly, he agreed.
‘So six it is. See you then.’
Derek and Mackenzie never entertained. Gavin had only been to the house once before, shortly after the new Mr and Mrs Crawford returned from honeymoon, three years ago. Seeing where they lived again took him by surprise; it had to be on the far side of a couple of million. By all accounts Derek Crawford had been a rough diamond. Success had smoothed the edges; he’d worked hard: this was the reward.
The Audi A5 he’d confessed at Adele’s birthday party to not being able to see past, sat in the drive. Gavin pulled alongside it, got out and walked up a wide path bordering a perfect lawn with gravel crunching underneath his feet. Before he reached the front door it opened. Derek wore a cardigan over a shirt and tie and grey trousers. Even in the few days since the party, he’d aged: his eyes were bloodshot and there were bags under them; his skin was dry and flaking and his breath was sour. Without offering to shake hands they went inside. Derek stood in the middle of the lounge. Judging by the number of empty beer cans lying around, Crawford wasn’t holding it together very well. Gavin saw the cut on his cheek. He didn’t ask – he could guess how he’d come by it.
Derek restated his position in case his brother-in-law had missed it. ‘I’ll be frank with you, Gavin. As much as I appreciate the support, your sister isn’t a subject I’m keen to discuss. In fact, I’d rather not talk about her at all. She was the one who decided to leave, so that’s that as far as I’m concerned.’
‘I understand.’
‘Do you? I doubt it. Whose idea was this, anyway? Adele’s?’ He shook his head. ‘Why don’t people mind their own business?’
‘She means well.’
‘And that’s the most disturbing bit of it.’ He set his frustration aside. ‘Let me put my cards on the table and save us both some time. I realise this may sound harsh: I’ve no idea where she is, or who she’s with. The saddest part is…I don’t care.’
‘Are you sure she’s gone for good? Could be hiding out for a few days to teach you a lesson.’
‘Yes, I’m sure.’
‘How can you be, she’s never done this before?’
‘Would you know if it was Monica?’
Gavin didn’t reply. He said, ‘At the party she seemed desperately unhappy.’
Derek’s hands balled at his sides. ‘Unhappy! Of course she was unhappy. And she wasn’t the only one. Mackenzie was ruining our lives – mine as well as her own – with drink. You saw the state she was in. I wouldn’t allow it, so I was the bad guy.’ He looked at the floor and shook his head.
‘You can’t imagine what living with an alcoholic is like. Not knowing what you’re coming home to.’
Gavin remembered the anxiety in his mother’s voice when he’d phoned home.
‘Alcohol was a problem for her in the past.’
‘She blamed her childhood.’
Gavin reacted. ‘Mackenzie had a great childhood. I know. I was there.’
‘Not how she remembers it. You and Adele were the original family. She was the ‘surprise’ – the outsider. She felt left out… the kid nobody wanted.’
‘That just isn’t true. Mum and Dad doted on her. If anything they gave her too much.’
‘Try telling her. If you’re looking to justify your behaviour I suppose it’s as good an excuse as any.’
The conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn. They didn’t speak until Gavin said, ‘I assume there hasn’t been any contact?’
‘None. Didn’t expect any.’
‘Have you tried phoning her?’
‘No. And I won’t. Absolutely not.’
‘Did she take much with her?’
‘Nothing.’
‘What do you mean, nothing? What about money and credit cards?’
Derek shrugged, irritated. ‘Look, I really haven’t given it much thought, although, you’re right. I should put a stop on them. Fucked if I’m paying for her fun. But what she took isn’t important. It doesn’t matter.’
Suddenly he looked even older and Gavin didn’t believe him. Derek said, ‘Listen, I appreciate what you’re both trying to do though, not to put too fine a point on, it I don’t give a flying-fuck any more. I’ve other things on my mind.’
He sat down and quickly stood up again. ‘I’m having another drink. Want one?’
‘I won’t, thanks. Zero tolerance and all that.’
‘Suit yourself.’
He went to the kitchen, leaving Gavin alone. The lounge was as big as most people’s homes. Money had been spent and it showed: tastefully decorated, leaning towards minimalist – a lot to leave behind.
Derek came back with a cut-glass tumbler of whisky. ‘Sure you won’t change your mind.’
‘No. I better get going. I just thought it was important you know we’re here for you.’
A box of Black Magic sat open on the coffee table. Monica lay on the couch, dressed for bed, working her way through it when Gavin came through the door. She spoke through a mouthful of chocolate. ‘How did it go?’
He made a face and fell into the armchair opposite. ‘Derek says he’s past caring but you should see him, Mo. He’s aged ten years.’
‘Has he heard from her?’
‘Not a word. Doesn’t even know how much cash she’s taken, credit cards, or anything.’
Monica put a hazelnut swirl in her mouth. ‘The benefit of being well-off, I suppose.’
‘“Well-off” doesn’t describe it. The bloody house is three times the size of this.’
‘I remember. Have to be crazy to turn your back on it.’
Gavin reached over and picked up a chocolate. ‘Looks like that’s exactly what she’s done. Hasn’t even taken her clothes.’
Monica sat up. ‘What? None of them?’
He shook his head. ‘I asked. He’s not sure. He’s not sure about anything at the moment, poor bastard.’
Monica didn’t want to panic her husband. She searched for the right words and didn’t find them. ‘He must have that wrong. There isn’t a woman on the planet who would leave without her clothes.’
He hadn’t grasped the significance of what his wife was saying. ‘Maybe she didn’t take them because Derek bought them. Maybe she didn’t have time.’
‘How? What was the rush? Could’ve been packing stuff for days. I would’ve been.’
‘Good to know. If things start disappearing from the wardrobe I’ll prepare myself for the worst.’
She didn’t smile. ‘What I’m saying is she would’ve taken them unless…she left in a hurry.’
Gavin took his phone out of his pocket. ‘I’m going to call Mackenzie. She’ll accuse me of interfering in her life, but too bad.’
He tapped his sister’s number into his phone and heard the continuous hum of a dead line.
‘Unobtainable, how can that be?’
‘Could be she’s changed her number?’
‘Adele might know.’
Adele Gardiner was sitting in the kitchen, watching the clock. Blair should’ve been home two hours ago and she had no idea where he was. When her mobile rang she assumed it was him.
‘Where the hell are you?’
Gavin said, ‘Is this the wrong time?’
‘Oh sorry. Didn’t realise it was you.’
‘No problem. Wanted to give you an update. I saw Derek today.’
‘How is he?’
‘About as well as you’d expect a guy to be when his wife runs away with her lover.’
‘Has the stupid bitch contacted him?’
‘No, she hasn’t, why I’m calling you. Her number’s unobtainable. Has she changed it, do you know?’
‘I tried yesterday and couldn’t get through. Suppose she must have.’
‘And I discovered something Monica thinks is disturbing. It seems Mackenzie left without taking her clothes.’
‘Mmmm… that is odd.’
‘Derek isn’t sure but he thinks she didn’t take anything.’
‘Nothing at all? She’d have to be out of her mind. Then again, as we saw at the party, the silly idiot isn’t thinking straight, is she? Get him to have a proper look and call me back. Blair isn’t home yet. Something came up at work.’
The untruth fell awkwardly between them. Gavin let it go. Derek answered on the first ring and couldn’t keep his disappointment hidden when he heard his brother-in-law’s voice. ‘Oh, it’s you. Thought that might be Mackenzie.’
‘Yeah, sorry about that, mate. Monica and Adele don’t like the sound of her leaving without at least some of her clothes. As women, it feels off. Could you have another look and see what’s gone?’
‘Hold on.’
Five minutes later, Derek was back. ‘I’m not the best judge. Your sister has more shoes than Imelda Marcos, let alone clothes.’
‘So what’s missing?’
The pause lasted a long time. Derek seemed to be struggling to get the words out.
‘If I had to guess…I’d say nothing’s missing. They’re all there.’
Not good news. ‘What about her mobile, has she changed her number?’
‘I’d be the last to know, wouldn’t I?’
‘Well, it’s likely she has. Nobody can reach her. I’ve tried. Adele’s tried.’
Maybe Gavin was mistaken but when Derek spoke he imagined a trace of something in his voice that, on another day, he’d call smug satisfaction.
‘Then it’s not just me. Mackenzie doesn’t want anything to do with any of us.’
The conversation had ended on a disquieting note. Mackenzie leaving, taking nothing, was disturbing enough without hearing his young sister resented her siblings and had done all her life. It hardly seemed possible the cherished late baby, the cute tomboy they’d all adored, was in reality a mass of insecurity who’d misunderstood her place in the family. They’d lived under the same roof – albeit only for a short time before Gavin went off to university – joking round the dinner table, in different ways winding their parents up; laughing about it together: the gang of three. To be told Mackenzie remembered herself as invisible concerned her brother because it wasn’t true.
Behind those big brown eyes, demons had been hiding, telling her lies, slowly poisoning her mind. Given that, what had come later wasn’t a surprise.
He didn’t discuss it with Monica; her reaction was predictable. After she’d gone to bed he remembered Adele had asked him to ring her back. He took out his mobile and checked the time: ten forty-five. A bit late, except he’d promised and Adele was a worrier. She’d worry even more if she didn’t hear from him. Gavin imagined her turning the news about Mackenzie not taking her clothes over in her mind and fretting. She’d turned the blue Vectra Derek had seen into proof her husband was having an affair with her sister. Crazy stuff.
She answered on the first ring, her voice heavy with sleep. He said, ‘It’s me. Sorry about the time. I completely forgot.’
For a moment, his sister seemed not to understand what he was saying. ‘What? Oh, oh yes, the clothes.’
‘Derek’s as sure as he can be Mackenzie hasn’t taken anything with her.’
‘He must have that wrong. She’s got so many clothes, how could he tell? How could anyone tell?’
‘I agree, but that’s what he thinks.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘Until she contacts one of us, there’s nothing we can do.’
They’d reached an impasse. On instinct Gavin said, ‘Did Blair sort out his work problem?’
Seconds passed. When Adele replied, her tone was stiff, defensive, and he realised he’d asked the wrong question. ‘I really couldn’t say. I haven’t seen him. He hasn’t come home.’