‘Why are you scared of Daddy, Mummy?’ Ella asked as Claire pulled the duvet up over her.
Claire felt her heart drop. ‘I’m not, sweetheart,’ she quickly assured her, reaching for Flopsy from the foot of the bed and tucking it in with her. ‘I was just a bit scared when there was a funny noise on the phone and I couldn’t hear him talking, that’s all.’ The wary look in her daughter’s eyes told her Ella knew that was a lie. She’d hoped she might forget all about the phone call, but clearly she hadn’t. Aware that her mummy and daddy weren’t living together, her radar was on red alert whenever there was any conversation between them. She’d skirted around the subject several times over their meal, asking if she could talk to her daddy when they next spoke, whether he could come with them the next time they went on holiday, which caused Claire’s chest to constrict. Her little girl was worrying, and she felt powerless to reassure her.
Her wide blue eyes never leaving Claire’s, Ella studied her quietly for a second, and then, ‘Were you worried he might have turned into a star, like Nana?’ she asked.
Swallowing back a stab of pain, Claire took a second to answer. ‘No, darling, I wasn’t,’ she said softly, reaching to brush her daughter’s fringe from her furrowed little brow. ‘I knew he was still there. I just panicked because I thought we’d got cut off, that’s all.’
Nodding, Ella lowered her eyelashes and then looked thoughtfully back at her. ‘Will we see Daddy soon, Mummy?’ was her next question.
‘We will,’ Claire promised, breathing out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. Another lie, she thought. As things were, she had no idea when they would next see Luke. Whether it would be wise for Ella to have any contact with him right now, given the circumstances.
‘When we go home?’ Ella pushed, her expression hopeful and uncertain all at once.
‘Soon after,’ Claire answered vaguely. ‘We’ll ring him and have a chat with him when we get back, okay?’ She’d been going to call him tonight – tell him about the disturbing text she’d received – but with Ella in the same room, there was no way to do that.
‘Okay.’ Ella nodded, somewhat appeased.
‘Good.’ Claire gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Now come on, little madam, sleep, or no Children’s Village tomorrow.’
Ella’s eyes widened delightedly. ‘Are we really going to go?’
‘We are.’ Claire guessed there was no way to deny her daughter. ‘But only if we stay asleep in the morning until the clock shows…?’
‘A seven, a three and an O,’ Ella supplied confidently.
‘Seven thirty. Correct,’ Claire said, and kicked off her shoes.
‘Are you sleeping with me?’ Ella blinked, surprised, as she hitched up the duvet.
‘I am,’ Claire confirmed, sliding into the bed alongside her. ‘Shuffle round and we’ll snuggle. You can be my hot-water bottle.’
Ella looked pleased at that, dutifully wriggling onto her side. ‘But you’re not to squish me,’ she said, as Claire curled her body around the little girl, desperate to keep her safe, emotionally as well as physically.
Claire drew her closer. ‘You like Auntie Sophie, don’t you?’ she asked carefully.
‘Uh huh. I didn’t like her when I first saw her staring at me through the window, I thought she was mean, but I like her now. She’s fun.’ Ella yawned and snuggled closer. ‘Night night, Mummy.’
‘Night, precious girl.’ Claire kissed her hair and breathed in the special scent of her, then winced as her mobile signalled a text. Ella hardly stirred, though, thank goodness. Luke? she wondered. Or the deranged girlfriend? Was she deranged, though? Was it possible, however incredible or unpalatable, that she might be telling the truth? Claire felt goose bumps prickle over her flesh, even under the duvet.
Giving Ella another few minutes to drift into a deep sleep, she eased herself carefully away from her and padded across the room to fetch her phone from her bag. She was relieved to find it was Luke who’d texted.
Hi. Just checking all okay with you, he’d sent.
Not exactly hunky-dory, Claire thought reproachfully. Sighing, she replied, Not great under the circumstances. Can’t talk now. Ella sleeping. Will call tomorrow.
OK. Thanks, Claire, Luke sent back. Kiss my baby for me.
Claire’s heart ached at that. For Ella. For herself. For him. How must he be feeling, after being interviewed by the police? Did they even know the woman hadn’t disappeared? Did he?
She hesitated, and then, She texted me, she sent. Anna.
There was a beat before Luke replied. Thank God, he sent back. What did she say?
Claire was perturbed. Clearly he hadn’t known she wasn’t missing. You should let the police know. Will talk to you tomorrow, she responded. She had no wish to prolong this tonight. She wasn’t just tired; she felt bone-weary. She couldn’t deal with any more now. Her one consolation was that her father had seemed more accepting of his surroundings at the care home when she’d last seen him.
Whatever that madwoman had said, she was sure Luke could never have done the things she’d said he had. Could he? The scratch. The incontrovertible evidence that something had happened between them popped jarringly into her mind once again.
Could she be sure? Really? Could she allow Luke access to Ella until she knew absolutely that she wasn’t placing her daughter in a volatile situation?