Frozen to the spot, I lowered my head to listen. More laughing; then something about a done deal. You were talking about your firm’s partner’s son? Who was based in the same office as you; something about him being fresh, nineteen, workable. Poised footsteps on the hard floor alerted me, emboldening me to move. Upwards quickly. I reached the top, but slightly wrong-footed the final stair, my handbag clunked me on the back of my head as I pushed my arms forward to break the fall. I held my breath for the worry of being heard. In my own house. Nothing, so I gingerly stood, thankful for the acoustics of a galleried landing. I waited, lurking in the shadows of our bedroom door. Chairs shuffling. Someone was leaving, saying their goodbyes. I stepped back further into the dark of the doorway. I saw one of the unidentified men open the front door, whilst turning to speak. It was the man I’d seen you with earlier at the bar. The same man the loud group next to me were whispering about. What the hell were you up to?
Without caring to undress, I fell into bed. What had I got myself into? More to the point, what was this baby going to be born into? My mind hurtled down dead-end options. Maybe it would all feel better in the morning. You would have a perfectly reasonable explanation for the entire evening and the strange man. But you didn’t even know I’d arrived home. You obviously didn’t care. I’d kind of come to terms with this in the last few months. A painful acceptance of hurt. I just didn’t know what to do about it.
But something else felt so very wrong.
Alarm bells calling.
Why would they mention a gun?
Chapter Fifteen
Cornwall 2016
Oh my God.
You are there with Jack.
You are watching Jack.
You could by now be with Jack. In our home.
What if you have taken Jack?
Please, someone help.
I’m thirty minutes from home. Jesus, I need to stop for petrol. Why didn’t I fill up this morning? Idiot, Eve. I glance at my fuel gauge, begging it to have acquired extra fuel from somewhere. Flicking through computer options on the steering paddle, I see the fuel has fallen from twenty-five to five, in a spin of a coin. Metallic essence sits on my taste buds as blood surges to vital organs. Why tonight? After all this time, all these years, the night I’m not there, Jack is alone, the dark shadow finally returns. Missing, hoped dead, all this time. Why tonight?
My foot presses firmer on the accelerator. Conscious of being restricted by the lanes I’m travelling, I recklessly tear along. Fifth gear to second gear feeling each sharp twist, making the most of sporadic straights. I swear I’m moving further away. An oncoming car senses my urgency – I’m not stopping for anyone – and obligingly reverses into a gateway. Come on, come on, faster, hurry up, I urge.
I reach out, grabbing at my disappearing mobile. Damn, it slides off the passenger seat, clattering down the side of the door. For Christ’s sake. I need my mobile to get hold of Jack, check he’s okay. Should I tell him, warn him? Or are you bluffing? No, how would you know Jack is home alone, has a friend with him, if you’re not watching him? Keeping my eyes on the road, I stretch to my left, desperately trying to grasp the mobile; my fingers skim the smooth surface, pushing it further away. I jump on my brakes, release my belt, and begin to frantically scratch around in the darkness. Got it. The screen illuminates the text. The text that changes everything. Years of wondering; hoping. Subliminal waiting.
Stupid, stupid woman, Eve. I knew you’d catch us. How have I allowed this to happen? Bumbling fingers flick through my contacts in a ‘more haste, less speed’ fashion until Jack’s face is looking back at me; I hit the green call symbol. Blasted, blasted voicemail. No dial tone, just a flipping voicemail.
Who else?
My hands quiver, making clumsy mistakes; dialling people I haven’t spoken to in years. My mobile responding to me, with a delayed reaction. I eventually locate our landline number; I cannot for love or money recall it. Nobody uses our landline. I momentarily picture the last time it was ringing. Jack and I sat on the sofa, staring uninterestedly at it, then at each other. Deciding it was odd, couldn’t be important, then opting to ignore it. Irresponsible! Why hadn’t I taught him to pick up? It could be important.
Please, please, Jack, please pick up the goddam phone. I call it three times.
He doesn’t pick up. I try Ruan again in vain. What’s wrong with everyone? I set off, mobile grasped in my left hand on the steering wheel. Before long, a bright fluorescent light looms, an oncoming petrol station; approaching far too fast, I brake hard to swerve in. Filling my car just enough to reach home, I dash in to pay. As I’m jumping from foot to foot in the small queue, I think of Bea. She lives on the Porthtowan crossroads with her boyfriend; it’s only eight minutes’ drive from our house. I throw a note on the front desk, explaining I’m on an emergency call, and dash back to my car to locate her number, as I leave the garage at speed.
‘Hi, Evie?’
‘Bea, oh, Bea, thank God.’
‘Hey, what’s up? What’s wrong, lovely?’
‘I’m trying to get hold of Jack. I’m really worried about him. He’s not answering his mobile or the landline. But I know he’s at home. I’ve tried Ruan – he’s not answering either. Please, I’m so worried, can you get over to mine now? Find Jack for me? I’m still a while from home, you see. I really wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. I’ll explain later. Please.’
‘Oh, Evie, is everything okay? What’s the problem? He’s probably not got a signal, that’s all. You know what it’s like living here. I’ll go, though, sure I will, it’s not a problem at all, but why are—?’
‘Bea, sorry. I can’t go into it all right now. I’m really scared – I wouldn’t ask you otherwise. Please can you get to mine? It’s urgent. Trust me.’
‘Sure, don’t worry. I’ll go now. But what do I say to him? To Jack when I find him?’
‘That doesn’t matter. Please leave now. Call me when you have him.’
‘Okay. I’m on my way.’
‘Oh, and, Bea?’
‘Yes, lovely?’
‘Is Matt home with you?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘Take him with you. Don’t go alone. Don’t go without him. Promise you’ll leave this minute. With Matt?’
‘But—’
‘No, Bea. Now’s not the time. Leave now and take Matt.’
I hang up. The adrenaline rush burns at my cheeks as the shivering spreads from my hands towards my feet. I’m really hoping Bea understood my urgency and doesn’t hang around, matching shoes and jackets et cetera. I hate myself for sending her blind into the situation. The only consoling thought is you wouldn’t touch Bea or Matt. Would you? You’d hide in the shadows, observe maybe, but I’m as sure as I can be you wouldn’t confront them. It’s not your style. It’s me and Jack you want. Or is it just me? But you know Jack is your only pathway to me.
I frenetically make my way home, silently imploring someone to make contact, to reassure me. It flashes through my mind: I’m not really sure what I’ll do if, when, you and I come face to face again. So much time has passed between us. I haven’t set eyes on you since the night of the car accident. No one has. My stomach somersaults as I have absolutely no idea of what I am driving into. I’m lost in panic when a shrill noise eventually pierces the air, causing me to jump. My mobile, vibrating through the rigid left hand – please, God, let this be Jack. I squint to make out the caller ID. It’s Bea.
‘Bea, are you there? Have you found Jack?’
‘We’re at yours, yes. We’ve been knocking for a while. There’s no answer, Evie. The lights are on, though, downstairs and upstairs. What do you want us to do?’
My chest tightens; the in-breath hurts. ‘Shit. Have you looked through the windows? There’s no sign of Jack at all?’ Of course, there isn’t; she just said so. She’s not stupid. It’s not as if we live in a huge house, and he’s unable to hear the knocking. Why the stupid questions?
‘Try not to panic. Matt’s going over the wall now, to get to the back of the house. He’ll check the back door, and make some noise on it, see if Jack hears him from there. Where are you? How far away?’
‘I don’t know, ten minutes maybe. Can you ask Matt to smash the small panel of glass in the kitchen back door? He’ll be able to put his hand through then, and turn the key. We usually leave it in the door.’
‘Really, Evie? You’re that concerned? You’ll be home in a minute with a key.’
‘I’m out of my mind, Bea. Please, just ask him to do it.’
‘Look, Jack could be upstairs. You know what he’s like, listening to loud music, and can’t hear us knocking from down here.’
‘Can you hear music, then?’