‘Sometimes …’ she admitted. ‘But we’re adjusting …’
‘I don’t think I could live back here now,’ Veronica remarked. ‘No offence,’ she said as Meredith raised her head, ‘I’ve just got too used to having a supermarket on hand 24/7. I don’t know how you did it, Mum – I’m always running in there for something or other.’
‘You just need a better routine,’ Meredith said. ‘You have it too easy nowadays – it makes you lazy.’
‘No it doesn’t,’ Veronica cried. ‘Disorganised, maybe. Lazy, no.’
Meredith smiled thinly and began to help herself to more potato salad.
‘How old is your daughter, Grace?’ Jenny asked.
‘Millie is fifteen months.’ Grace couldn’t help smiling as Millie’s petite little face came into her mind. ‘She’s developing a strong will of her own already – though she hasn’t started walking yet.’ She looked across at Liza. ‘How long till your baby arrives?’
‘Five weeks,’ Liza replied. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘It changes your life, that’s for sure.’ Grace tried to catch Veronica’s eye for backup, and Veronica smiled but didn’t seem willing to comment. Grace fell silent again, feeling as though she had hit on an awkward subject.
She was relieved that everyone’s attention moved next to Claire, who was roundly berated for planning yet another trip abroad, with no sense of, in Dan’s words, ‘long-term responsibility’. Grace had always been a little envious of big families, but as she listened she realised that they could be quite claustrophobic too – particularly if everyone decided to gang up on you and tell you how to live your life. Perhaps that’s what had happened to Ben. She looked at the mantelpiece clock. It was after nine and there was no sign of him. It didn’t seem as though he were coming – which meant that she had a long night ahead of her with the rest of his family.
She had just finished eating when the conversation swung her way again. ‘So, Grace, how are you getting on with the cottage?’ It was Steve, Veronica’s husband, who had spoken.
‘Slowly,’ Grace admitted. ‘But hopefully things will speed up a bit, now all the festivities are out of the way.’
‘Meredith told me about her suggestion,’ he continued, and Grace recalled Meredith saying that he was a solicitor. She looked over to see that Meredith had her head tilted to one side as she listened, like a bird suddenly aware of an interesting morsel.
‘When people go missing the spouse can get tied into their property for years, even if it is in joint names,’ Steve continued.
Grace tried to keep her face fixed as she said, ‘Yes, I’m aware of that …’ Her voice was hostile, and she avoided everyone’s gaze.
‘Meredith’s idea might be advantageous for both of you,’ Steve persisted. ‘And I’d be happy to find out what can be done legally. If you rent it to someone you know, you might avoid a few problems – particularly if Adam comes back and isn’t happy with the arrangement.’
‘That’s unlikely to happen now,’ Dan added as he ate, waving his fork in the air. ‘Sorry, Grace, but you don’t often find a missing person after all this time.’
Grace was seething. How dare they casually discuss her decisions, her life, and her husband over dinner like this. She was on the verge of losing her temper, when the conversation moved on as though nothing had happened. Veronica started to reprimand one of their children for running around with their food. Jenny got up and began collecting plates.
Grace met Claire’s eyes and saw her sympathy. Meredith was scrutinising her too, but as soon as Grace noticed, the older woman got to her feet and busied herself helping Jenny with the dishes.
People began to leave the table, and Liza hurried from the room. ‘I’m going to check on Millie,’ Grace announced to no one in particular, and followed. At least if she could press Liza to talk to the police, this night wouldn’t be a total waste of time.
However, by the time she reached the hallway, Liza was nowhere to be seen. Frustrated, Grace headed instead to the lounge and peeked under the pushchair hood, reassured by the sight of Millie’s peaceful face. She sat down, and was considering whether to rejoin the party or sneak back to the cottage, when she realised she could hear talking. It was coming from behind her, beyond a window that looked out over the front of the house. She wanted to move, but the curtains were open, and if she got up she would probably be seen in the lamplight. So she sat there uncomfortably, unable to avoid hearing what was being said.
‘Liza, listen to me,’ came a male voice. ‘You can’t stay with him. He’s an idiot.’
‘What choice have I got? I’m not asking for anything from you, so leave me alone – I can’t do this any more.’
‘We’re not doing anything, I’m just talking to you …’
‘You know exactly what I mean. It should never have happened in the first place. If anyone finds out … If Veronica –’