Chapter Six
LATER, HE REMEMBERED very little of the journey home. After he’d stood, frozen, in front of the poster for what felt like an eternity, a small voice at the back of his head told him he needed to move before the others came looking for him. So he forced his legs, his stiff, shaky legs, to walk out of the station and across the car park and back into the car, where Millie was curled up on the back seat with her fingers in her mouth, and Max was complaining about how long he’d been, and Dad was starting the engine, eager to get home.
Sometime later, Dad glanced over at him and said, ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes,’ said Louis, feeling his throat constrict as he forced a smile.
‘You’re looking very pale,’ Dad said. ‘You were in there for ages. Have you got an upset stomach?’
‘No,’ Louis said, and then, realizing that this could be a useful cover-up, ‘I mean yes.’
Dad shot him another puzzled look, but fortunately the motorway seemed to be taking up the lion’s share of his attention.
Every muscle in Louis’ body was clenched tight but his insides felt as if they were shaking. He fixed a spot on the windscreen and concentrated hard on keeping his breathing even. He shut his eyes to deter any further questioning from Dad but, confined to the darkness of his own mind, his thoughts started to scream. What, oh what was going on? Had he imagined that poster? Was he losing his mind? No, the photos were clearly imprinted on his brain. That photo of Millie had been taken last month on the veranda, when she was twirling about, trying to copy Louis’ triple spin. The photo of Max had been taken by Dad only a few months earlier, during their Easter trip to EuroDisney. The photo of himself was the one from the living-room mantelpiece, the one that Maman used to say made him look like an angel. Louis’ eyes snapped open. What had Dad done? What had Dad done?
They stopped off at the fish-and-chip shop and Dad and Max went inside to order; Millie was fast asleep in the back. As they drove the last stretch home, the smell of the food turned Louis’ stomach: he felt his mouth fill with saliva and it was an effort not to gag. When they pulled up in front of the house, Millie woke up and declared she was starving. There was still sand all over the floor of the car, and as they walked across the courtyard to the front door, Dad and Max wrestled with each other to see who could get in first.
In the kitchen, Millie rushed about with plates and ketchup, Dad went to empty their sandy shoes out of the back door, and Max tried to engage Louis in a discussion over which film they should watch. In the living room they sat around the coffee table with their plates and drinks, Max putting on the DVD and Millie arguing that Max had more chips than she did. Then Dad came in with his plate, sat down on the couch next to Louis and reached out and ruffled Louis’ hair. ‘The perfect end to the perfect day,’ he said with a smile. And that’s when Louis dropped his entire meal on the living-room floor.
All of a sudden, the room seemed drained of oxygen, and Dad, Max and Millie appeared to be nothing more than characters in a television programme. Louis had the terrible feeling that none of this was really happening, it was all an illusion, and really he was somewhere else – back at home in Paris perhaps – while someone was playing with his mind. He wanted to shout to himself, Wake up! Wake up! and find himself blinking at the dark ceiling, his heart still thudding, wondering why he’d had such a vivid dream. But instead of that, Max was swearing at him; Dad was saying, ‘It doesn’t matter, you can share mine,’ scooping handfuls of soggy fish and chips up off the carpet, until Millie’s voice, shrill with alarm, cut through the rest of the noise: ‘Louis, what’s the matter?’
He put his hands over his mouth to try and muffle the gasping sound that was escaping him, and Dad looked up and dropped the handful of food and grabbed him by the wrists and said, ‘Louis, what’s wrong? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?’
At the touch of Dad’s hands, an electric current shot through him and he jumped up, breaking free from his father’s grasp and crashing backwards into the TV, shouting, ‘Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! You lied to us! Don’t come near me! Maman has no idea where we are!’
Dad’s expression suddenly crumbled and the colour drained from his face. His mouth hung open and he sank heavily back down onto the couch. Max froze, staring at them both, one hand still on the light switch. And Millie looked from one face to the other, finally running over to Max with a whimper and clutching his arm.
‘Louis, how did you find out . . .? I never meant for you to – I was going to tell you, I promise, I just needed some more time to plan exactly how . . .’ Dad’s voice was shaking, his eyes fixed on Louis’.
Max was breathing heavily, his eyes wild. ‘Would somebody please tell me what the hell’s going on?’
‘Louis, please,’ Dad tried. ‘Let’s just sit down and talk about it. I’ll explain everything. I never wanted to lie to you—’
‘Why?’ Louis shouted at the top of his voice. ‘Why?’
Millie gave another strangled whimper, hands pressed over her mouth.
‘Because I love you,’ Dad said. ‘Because I can’t live without my children—’
‘You had no right!’ Louis yelled, feeling tears spring to his eyes. ‘You had no right just to take us, without telling us, as if we were nothing but pieces of furniture—!’ A sob escaped him and he slapped the back of his fist to his mouth, biting his knuckles.
‘If someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on, right now . . .’ Max warned.
Dad said, his voice still shaking, ‘I can explain everything—’
‘He kidnapped us!’ Louis shouted, whirling round to Max. ‘This whole holiday thing is a sham! The trip to Amsterdam was just to cover his tracks! Maman hasn’t let us stay an extra week! Maman doesn’t even know where we are!’
‘Louis, please listen . . .’ Dad tried again.
A look of horror was slowly spreading across Max’s face. ‘What do you mean, kidnapped?’ he said slowly. ‘You mean like a custody-battle thing?’ He stared at Louis. ‘How do you know?’
‘Because I’ve just seen photos of us plastered on a missing person’s poster in Whitehaven station!’ Louis yelled.
‘Oh God . . .’ Dad’s face was ashen.
‘You’re joking,’ Max gasped.
‘But how can he have kidnapped us?’ Millie cried. ‘He’s our daddy!’
Louis turned to Millie. ‘Maman doesn’t know where we are! Nobody in France knows where we’ve gone! Dad took us away to live with him even though Maman won the court case!’
‘Maman won the court case?’ Millie burst into tears. ‘But I don’t want to just see Daddy once a month!’
‘We won’t have to!’ Louis shouted. ‘He’s kidnapped us! He’s kidnapped us so that we have to live with him full-time and not with Maman!’
Millie sniffed, clearly still struggling to make sense of the situation. ‘You mean we’re staying here for ever? You mean we’re never going back to Paris again?’
‘Yes!’ shouted Louis.
‘No!’ shouted Dad.
‘Oh, this is unreal,’ Max breathed, his voice weak with disbelief.
‘What do you mean, no?’ Louis demanded. ‘Are you saying you’ll let us go back to Paris right now?’
Dad put his head in his hands and fingered his thinning hair. ‘Of course,’ he said quietly. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘You’re lying!’ Louis shouted savagely.
‘I wanted to give you the choice,’ Dad said quietly. ‘The court ruling in Maman’s favour didn’t give you a choice. This way I’ve given you a choice. Don’t you see? Of course you can go back if you want. I’d never keep you anywhere against your will.’
‘What, we can go back right now?’ Louis shouted.
‘Yes, right now,’ Dad said.
‘You wouldn’t stop us?’ Louis demanded furiously.
‘Of course not. I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.’
‘You’re not honestly saying you di
d this just for us?’ Max turned to Dad angrily. ‘Just to give us a choice?’
‘No,’ Dad said. ‘No. I was selfish. I was very selfish. I did this for me because I knew that I couldn’t live without you.’
There was a long silence.
‘If they’ve put our photos on a missing person’s poster,’ Max said slowly, ‘does that mean you’re wanted by the police?’
Dad nodded slowly. ‘It would seem that way,’ he said. ‘But Whitehaven . . . Why – how would they know . . .?’
‘So if we choose to go back to France, you’d go to prison?’ Max demanded to know.
Millie began to cry again.
‘No, no, no,’ Dad said quickly.
‘Don’t mess with us any more,’ Max said quietly. ‘Just tell us the truth.’
‘Look,’ Dad said. ‘If you want to go back to Paris, I can just put you all on a plane. I don’t need to fly back with you. And so nothing would happen to me.’
‘But then we’d never be able to see you again,’ Max stated matter-of-factly.
‘That’s not true. I’d just have to lie low for a while . . .’
‘Just be honest for once, Dad,’ Louis said acidly. ‘If we choose to go back to Paris, you could face arrest! And one thing’s for sure – you’d never have access to us again. So, by saying you wanted to give us a choice, you’re actually forcing us to choose. Between living with you and never seeing Maman again, or living with Maman and never seeing you again.’
Dad rubbed his eyes with a soft moan. ‘What else could I do? I lost the court case. My lawyer told me I had no chance with the appeal. It was either lose you completely, or give you this choice.’
They talked well into the night, the food congealing uneaten on their plates, Millie falling asleep on the floor with her head on Dad’s lap. Finally, even Louis was sitting down, his back against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest, too tired to stand up and shout any more. Dad explained it all from the very beginning: when he first heard he had lost the court case he had just wanted to die. Then, one sleepless night, he had come up with a plan. Initially he had thought of taking them back to Ireland, but then he realized that Ireland was the first place the police would start to look. So he had contacted his old university friend Meg, in London, and asked her if she could help him. She had said yes, and with her help he had started getting the paperwork underway. But then, last month, Maman had told him that he could see the children for one last weekend. From then on, the visits were going to be supervised in the court’s family centre. And so he had realized he was going to have to act immediately. Several weeks of frantic planning ensued, giving notice at the flat in Rueil and shipping belongings over to Meg’s house in London. Meg helped Dad obtain false ID. She also said they could rent her holiday farmhouse in the Lake District for as long as they needed. And so here they were.
‘And when were you planning on telling us all this?’ Max asked him.
‘I was going to tell you last Saturday, the night before you were due to go home. I was going to tell you everything, like I’ve done now, and give you the choice of staying with me here in England or returning to Paris. But then, at breakfast, Millie started asking if she could spend another week. And you did too, Max. And I chickened out. I thought, If I stall for another week, maybe there’s more chance they’ll want to stay with me. I never, ever reckoned on one of you seeing your face on a missing person’s poster. Oh, God . . .’
Louis glared at him. ‘Well, you reckoned wrong.’
‘So that’s why you took away my mobile phone,’ Max gasped. ‘And why you got Meg to cut our hair . . .’
‘And why you wouldn’t let Millie phone Mum to tell her about her new room,’ Louis added.
‘Yes,’ Dad said. ‘It was wrong. And horribly unfair on all three of you. But what else could I possibly have done?’
‘You could have told us about the plan,’ Louis said. ‘You could have given us the choice of being involved, right from the beginning, instead of just snatching us like objects.’
‘I thought about that, but the risk would have been too great,’ Dad replied. ‘You could have so easily let it slip, and even if you hadn’t, it would have been hard for all three of you to put on an act in front of Maman.’
Louis thought about it and realized Dad was right. It would have been so easy to give the game away. Even if he had told them in the airport, someone might have overheard. ‘So what happens now?’ he asked.
‘Now?’ Dad spread his hands. ‘Now it’s completely and entirely up to you.’
Silence fell. Max bit his lip. ‘That’s not fair,’ he said softly.
‘It’s not,’ Dad agreed, putting his head in his hands. ‘And I’m sorry. I’m so terribly sorry.’
When they finally went to bed, a pale dawn was beginning to leak through the curtains. Dad carried Millie up to her room and Louis fell face down on his bed, not even bothering to take off his shoes.
When he awoke, the room was flooded with sunlight. The belt of his jeans cut into his side and his T-shirt stuck damply to his skin. He sat up groggily, the open curtains revealing a painful blue sky. Max was sitting cross-legged on his neatly made bed, playing a game on the laptop, his cropped brown hair wet from the shower. He glanced over at Louis. ‘Morning, dozey.’
Louis sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through his hair. ‘What time is it?’ he mumbled.
‘Quarter past twelve. You were sleeping like the dead. Dad said not to wake you.’
‘Has everyone had breakfast?’
‘Ages ago. Dad’s taken Millie out to lunch. He’s going to try and explain things properly to her and ask her what she wants to do.’
Louis sat up, suddenly fully awake. ‘You mean she gets to choose too?’
‘Of course,’ Max replied. ‘What did you think?’
‘I thought . . .’ Louis hesitated. He didn’t really know what he’d thought. That they were all going to make a decision as a family perhaps? ‘What if Millie decides she wants to go back and we decide we want to stay here?’ he queried. ‘How is Dad going to make Millie promise never to tell anyone back in France where we are? She’s crap at keeping secrets.’
‘Dad said if any of us choose to go back, he’ll move,’ Max said. ‘Like that there won’t be any secret to keep. Nobody will actually know where he’s gone.’
Louis pressed his fists against his closed eyelids, struggling to make sense of it all. His brain seemed to be enveloped by a thick fog this morning, and Max’s chirpy demeanour on the other side of the room wasn’t helping. ‘So you mean, if Millie decides to go back to Paris and we decide to stay here, then we’ll have to disappear with Dad again and never see Millie or Maman?’
‘Only till we’re sixteen,’ Max said lightly. ‘Then we can do what we want.’
‘All right for you,’ Louis said grumpily. ‘That’s only a year and a half away.’
‘Four years isn’t that long either,’ Max added.
‘Yes it is bloody long!’ Louis suddenly shouted. ‘If I don’t see Millie for four years, she’ll be nearly a teenager before I see her again! And if I don’t see Maman for four years – do you have any idea how worried she’ll be?’
‘Relax, Louis,’ Max said infuriatingly. ‘She knows we’re with Dad. He left her a letter. So she knows we’re perfectly safe. She even knows we’re in England – that’s why you came across the missing person’s poster. Dad just can’t figure out why there’d be a poster in the Lake District . . .’
Louis’ mind suddenly flashed back to the phone call to Pierre. Papa took us on holiday. We’re in a place called the Lake District. He felt his heart skip a beat. ‘Don’t you think Mum has a right to know where we are?’
‘No. Why should she? She was the one who was trying to stop us from seeing Dad, remember? Anyway, she’s so busy with her clients and that new idiot she’s dating, she probably won’t even notice we’ve gone.’
Louis glared at him. ‘Oh, this is j
ust because you hate Charlot, isn’t it?’
Max shrugged. ‘It’s only a matter of time before that schmuck moves in and starts forcing us to call him Papa.’
Louis went back to rubbing his eyes again and Max turned to the computer. Suddenly, Louis dropped his hands and stared across at his brother.
‘What?’ Max said uncomfortably.
‘You’ve chosen, haven’t you?’ Louis said.
‘So what if I have?’
‘You’re staying here with Dad, aren’t you?’
‘Why shouldn’t I?’ Max replied defensively. ‘This place is heaps better than Paris. And if it means never having to go back to the Lycée . . .’ He gave a little laugh. ‘My God, it’s a dream come true!’
‘Don’t you think Dad’s going to make you go to school here in September?’
‘Yeah, but over here they have A levels instead of the Baccalauréat – just two or three subjects instead of ten! And Dad’s already said I can do my GCSEs by distance learning if I prefer.’
‘Oh, great,’ Louis said acidly. ‘So you’re basing your decision uniquely on the education system.’
‘No. It’s also because I want to live with Dad. He looked after us when we were little. He was always the one there for us. I’ll miss Mum, sure, but she’s never really around, is she? And when she is, all she does is criticize. Anyway, I’ll be able to see her again in a year or so.’
‘And Millie? What about if Millie goes back? What about if I go back?’
‘Millie won’t go back,’ Max said. ‘You know how crazy she is about Dad.’
‘Ha!’ Louis shouted. ‘That’s where you’re wrong! Millie will go back! You’ve forgotten about Trésor!’
But when Millie came back with Dad after lunch, her face was pink and puffy and she went straight up to her room and closed the door. Dad sat at the kitchen table, his face grey. ‘I never meant to put her through that, I never meant to put her through that,’ he said.
Without Looking Back Page 8