‘Don’t expect me to be giving you all a lift back in half an hour if it’s not.’ Callum took his car keys and the teenagers followed him out. ‘Here’s some taxi money for later.’ He handed Rain forty pounds. ‘Put it in your bag. Marcus will only lose it.’
‘Cheers, Dad,’ Marcus said, climbing into the front of the car. He caught sight of Rain in the wing mirror and rolled his eyes. They picked up two of Marcus’s friends along the way, one of whom Rain had met earlier. She still thought he was weird. Twenty minutes later Callum dropped them outside the house Marcus had told him the party was at. It was a residential street not far from the centre of Newquay.
‘Another seaside town pretending to be Ibiza,’ Rain said dismally, clutching her arms around her. It was cool now the sun had gone down.
Once Callum pulled away, she followed the boys back down the street towards the town. She couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder, making sure he hadn’t come back to check where they were going. The club was just off the main street and she flashed her ID at the doorman, who barely glanced at it. Inside, the pulsing beat and lights of the place made her feel a little better and the sweet boozy smell of the bar whet her appetite. Marcus leant in to ask what she was drinking.
‘Vodka and tonic,’ Rain shouted above the music. ‘Double.’ She watched as he pushed his way closer to the bar, then turned and headed for the dance floor. She reckoned it was as good a night as any to get wasted.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘Uncle Angus, Aunt Jenny,’ Claire said, grinning and opening her arms to them the next morning. ‘It’s so good to see you.’
They’d not been due to arrive until Monday but, hearing that Patrick had been in hospital, they’d changed their plans and come early. She hugged them and led them into the kitchen. ‘Mum will be down soon. I don’t think she slept too well.’
Claire had stayed the night with her mother at the farm on the pretext that there may be news from the ward. But really it was because she didn’t want to leave Shona alone. After Nick’s meal last night, they’d sat talking, drinking and reminiscing. Jason had taken Greta back to the Old Stables around ten as she was tired, and Claire asked if they wouldn’t mind taking Amy to bed too. Jason had obviously decided to turn in as well as he didn’t come back. The sea air always exhausted visitors. Callum, who’d had too much to drink, didn’t go back up to the Old Stables until around 2.30 a.m., saying he’d leave the door unlocked for Marcus and his mates. He had a knack of forgetting his keys.
‘Any news on Pat today?’ Jenny asked, rolling up the sleeves of her blouse. It was a beautiful morning and already getting warm.
‘Nothing yet. I’ll call the ward after nine.’ Claire made breakfast for her aunt and uncle, but she couldn’t help feeling a tug of sadness when she looked at Angus. He was a younger, healthier version of her father – his brother. He’d been a big part of her childhood, owning the village garage and petrol station before they’d moved away, and she’d spent many happy days serving at the pumps to earn pocket money in the holidays.
‘He’s a silly old bugger,’ Angus said, tucking into his breakfast. It was his way of showing concern. ‘Scaring us all to death like that.’
Shona joined them in the kitchen, holding out her arms fondly to her brother-and sister-in-law. ‘A silly bugger indeed,’ she said, catching their conversation. ‘It’s so good to see you both.’
Poor Mum, Claire thought, knowing how much she hated being separated from Patrick. She was as in love with him now as the day they’d met and had often said she couldn’t stand it if Patrick was the first to go. She reckoned she’d only be a short way behind him with a broken heart.
‘Callum doesn’t think discharge is likely to happen on a Sunday as he’ll need to see the consultant, who won’t be in until tomorrow.’ Claire hated seeing her mother’s face pale with disappointment. But when she phoned the ward an hour later, the news was not what they’d expected.
* * *
‘I can’t believe you didn’t hear all that noise in the night,’ Greta said, stretching out in bed. Jason had come back from the bathroom wrapped in a towel from the waist down. Half of him wanted to crawl back between the sheets with his wife – God he loved seeing her pregnant – but the other half wanted to know if there’d been any news about his father. Despite everything, it still mattered.
‘With the twins kicking and all that noise in the early hours, I hardly got any sleep.’ Greta dropped her head back down on the pillow, closing her eyes.
‘What noise?’ Jason hadn’t heard anything but that wasn’t unusual. Once he was asleep, he stayed that way.
‘Doors banging, giggling and laughter, then some kind of yelping or shouting. I went to the loo about half past five, but everything was silent by then.’
‘Stay in bed and I’ll make you some tea,’ Jason said, stepping into his jeans. He pulled on a T-shirt and left the bedroom, stopping on the landing to listen. All he could hear was soft snoring coming from Claire and Callum’s room, or possibly Marcus’s room. He couldn’t be sure. He suspected Greta had heard the kids coming back late, most likely a bit drunk, up to silly antics. Marcus’s friends were no doubt crashing here for the night. They’d have to get used to that themselves when the twins were teenagers, though he could hardly imagine a time so far in the future.
Russ greeted him with a thumping tail from his bed beside the Aga. Jason filled the kettle and put it on the hotplate, deciding to make Claire and Callum a cup too, knowing Claire would want to get to the hospital as soon as possible. He made toast for Greta because she was always hungry, and poured four mugs of tea, taking the whole lot upstairs on a tray. He put the tray on a chest on the landing, taking two of the mugs with one hand.
He pressed the latch of Claire’s bedroom door and gently eased it open. He didn’t want to wake them if they were still asleep. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he stopped in his tracks, forcing himself to remain silent despite his mouth dropping open and the rising gasp in his throat.
When he was able to move again, convinced he wasn’t imagining it, he slowly reached into his back pocket and took out his phone, flicked it to silent, before holding it out in front of him with a shaking hand. Then he left the bedroom, closing the door quietly. He put the mugs back on the tray and leant against the wall, not knowing what the hell he should do.
* * *
‘What do you mean, he’s discharged himself?’ Shona was suddenly on her feet.
‘That’s what the ward sister said. Got himself up first thing and told them he was off. She said they couldn’t stop him.’ Claire felt so sorry for her mother. It was no wonder she wanted to sell the farm.
‘So why didn’t they call us immediately? Where is he now?’
‘Good questions,’ Claire said. ‘The nurse wasn’t particularly helpful and wanted to get me off the phone.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose this means I’ll be driving around looking for him. Knowing Dad, he’ll be walking home and getting lost rather than phoning any of us.’
‘Dear God, please don’t let him walk. It’s absolutely miles. Perhaps he called a taxi,’ Shona said. ‘Stupid old fool.’ She cupped her face in her hands. ‘He refuses to carry the mobile phone I bought him months ago.’
‘I didn’t even know he had a phone,’ Claire said, rolling her eyes.
‘He told me he lost it,’ Shona replied. ‘I’ve searched everywhere, but I think he probably threw it in the sea or something.’ She felt guilty for not buying him another one, but knew the same would happen.
Angus drained his mug. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll go out and search for him. You two have had enough on your plates. Call me if he turns up. I’ll check in at the hospital too, make sure he’s not still wandering around the wards.’