The Runaway

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The Runaway Page 2

by Linda Huber


  His eyes widened as she squinted down at him; a little half-smile flickering over her face. What was she looking so smug about? Big sisters were a proper pain sometimes.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘There’s a huge surprise for you at home.’ Melanie smirked, then strode ahead, flinging her next remark over her shoulder along with her hair. ‘Guess what?’

  Eddie hurried to catch her, considering. School started back tomorrow, was it something to do with that? ‘No school tomorrow?’

  ‘School’s not a thing. The surprise is a thing – well, sort of. You can touch it, anyway. It’s nothing with school, and it’s for me, too. And Mum.’ The smirk was even bigger, and hope flared in Eddie’s chest.

  ‘A dog?’ That would be the best ever…

  ‘You wish.’

  He scuffed his feet. This was getting boring. ‘What, then?’

  ‘It’s a person.’

  ‘Granny?’

  ‘She went home yesterday, birdbrain.’

  She was enjoying this. Eddie stuck out his tongue. ‘Don’t care.’

  ‘Yes, you do. It’s a huge surprise and it’s someone you haven’t seen for a long, long time.’

  ‘Have you seen them? Is it a nice surprise?’

  For the first time she looked uncertain. ‘I guess so. I haven’t seen him for a long time either.’

  Eddie’s mind raced. Him. ‘Is it – Daddy?’

  ‘Well, you’re quick, aren’t you? Yes. Mum went to collect him while you were at Colin’s.’

  Eddie stopped dead. His father hadn’t been here for… he counted on his fingers. Four Christmases. He’d been ill, very ill, and he’d needed to stay in hospital all that time. Mum went to visit him every month, but children weren’t allowed.

  ‘Is he better?’

  His sister pulled him on, her smile even more superior. ‘God, you’re slow. He was never ill, dumdum – but don’t tell anyone I told you. Mum would kill me.’

  Eddie gaped, and she bent until her head was close to his. Her whisper snaked into his ear as they went around the corner and home came into sight.

  ‘He was in prison. You’re not supposed to know.’

  Shock fizzed through him and his voice went all squeaky. ‘Why? Why was he in–’

  She clouted him over the head. ‘Shh! I don’t know exactly, but I heard Mum and Granny talking last summer. It was something about money, and a man was hurt. I think he died later. It wasn’t Dad’s fault, I don’t think, or he’d have got longer than five years.’

  Eddie stumbled again, but there was no hole in the road this time. His legs had gone shaky. And they were nearly home. He could remember his father shouting, but he’d laughed sometimes too, hadn’t he? He wasn’t a bad man… But – prison.

  He blinked back tears, gazing up to his sister’s face. In behind the grown-up act she always put on with him, his apprehension was mirrored in her eyes. What did that mean? She could remember Daddy better than he could, even though he wasn’t her real dad. She didn’t have a real dad so she kind of shared his.

  ‘You’re scared.’ He stuck out his tongue at her.

  ‘I’m not. But I know who is!’ She ran off up the path, and Eddie followed, his stomach churning. At the front door she grabbed his shoulder and hissed into his ear. ‘Don’t forget it’s a surprise!’

  The hallway didn’t look different, but Eddie could smell cigarette smoke. Nobody smoked here and Mum always asked visitors to go out to the garden. It was a yukky smell.

  ‘Come on, you two – come and see who’s here!’

  Their mother called from the kitchen, and for a brief moment Eddie and his sister locked eyes. Then Melanie ran down the hall and into the kitchen.

  ‘Yay!’ She sounded more pleased than Eddie was expecting.

  He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the stair post, his heart going boom-boom-boom in his throat.

  His mother was coming to hurry him up when he stepped into the heat of the kitchen, and Eddie’s middle jerked. Such a short little skirt she was wearing, and a new blouse, and all that eye make-up…

  ‘Surprise!’ She gave his shoulder a push, and he plodded to the man sitting at the table, an empty glass in front of him and Melanie grinning by his side.

  ‘Come on, boy. Not scared, are you?’

  The voice was amused, but the tone made Eddie shiver. Daddy didn’t like you to be scared, he remembered that now. Holding his breath, he raised his eyes to his father’s. Daddy’s mouth was smiling and his face was a funny pale colour, and his hair was blacker than the picture in Eddie’s mind.

  He shook his head, going right up to the table, and Daddy put out a smelly-smoky hand and gave his neck a little shake.

  ‘That’s good, boy,’ he said softly. ‘We’ll drink to that.’ He turned his head to Eddie’s mother, and she grabbed a bottle from the work surface and poured a slosh of dark orange into the glass.

  ‘You have one too.’

  She smiled, a lovely bright one. ‘I don’t like whisky–’

  ‘I don’t like uptight women. Have one.’

  Mum poured herself a drink and clinked glasses, but her smile had gone wrong. And Eddie knew that his world, the safe and happy world he’d lived in almost as long as he could remember, had changed.

  Chapter Three

  Friday, 13th March

  Nicola suppressed a sigh as they reached the headland and stood staring out over the Atlantic. Seven days after Amelia’s death, and here they were, back in wintry Cornwall. She gripped Ed’s arm. He’d been moody and preoccupied all week, with good reason, of course, but he’d barely spoken since their arrival here yesterday evening. He’d have to face the grief sometime, but right now, he seemed to be escaping from the world by staying inside his own head. She couldn’t get through to him, and this walk along the clifftop wasn’t helping after all.

  Worry settled heavily on Nicola’s shoulders, adding to the apprehension about tomorrow’s funeral. Who’d have thought Amelia’s death would hit Ed so hard? Left up to him, they wouldn’t have seen half as much of his mother. He’d always needed a reminder to give her a call when they hadn’t heard from her for a while, and it was Nicola who made the holiday arrangements every year, too. Still, your mother was the main person behind you all your life, wasn’t she? Until she died…

  Kelly was another problem. Their daughter was still in the sulks about being grounded after last week’s test results at school – how on earth did she think she was going to get through her GCSEs when marks of 40% were the positive ones? The tests had been before Amelia’s death and the table tennis club episode, too, so no excuse there. What had happened to the hormonal but happy teenager they’d once shared a home with? Nicola pressed her lips together.

  She gave Ed’s arm a quick squeeze. ‘Shall we start back? It’s cold.’

  ‘I guess. We’re just killing time, aren’t we?’

  They walked in silence back the way they’d come, green countryside to the right and the ocean to their left. On clear days the views were to die for, but today, grey mist was swirling in from the ocean. The house was barely visible.

  The mist came down properly as they arrived back. Coast Road was an oddly secluded little street a mile or so outside St Ives. The four houses there were lone forerunners of a development that had never materialised – the first two had been converted into holiday flats, empty at this time of year. Then came Dorothy’s house, and closest to the cliff was Amelia’s, 1930s elegance from cellar to attic.

  Ed’s footsteps slowed as they walked up the driveway, and Nicola pushed back rising frustration. If only he would talk to her about what was going on in his head. Maybe he’d find it easier when the funeral was behind them. Funerals were supposed to help you, weren’t they? On the other hand, what did she know – apart from her grandparents when she was a teenager, she’d never lost anyone close.

  Melanie was in the living room when they arrived back, a cream envelope on the coffee table in front of her.
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br />   ‘I found the will.’ She handed the envelope to Ed. ‘It was in a box in the kitchen.’

  Ed turned it over. ‘You opened it?’

  ‘It wasn’t sealed.’

  Nicola watched as he drew out a single sheet of paper. For a few seconds he was motionless, reading, then his face flushed dark red. He dropped the will on the coffee table and strode from the room. The front door slammed behind him.

  Nicola gaped after him. ‘May I?’ She picked up the will. Five seconds was enough to see that Amelia had left all her money to Melanie, and the house to Ed.

  Frank Sinatra warbling My Way accompanied them as they walked out of the chapel the following day, and Nicola clutched Ed’s elbow. Tremors were running up and down his arm, and his face had been set in grim lines since before the service started. Since yesterday, in fact. The news about the will had hit him hard, and Nicola was struggling to see why. By the time the house was sold, they’d end up with at least as much hard cash as Melanie’d been left – and who was counting, anyway? It was Amelia’s choice to make.

  ‘Nice service.’ Dorothy and Rob came to stand beside Nicola and Kelly by the chapel door. Melanie was a few steps away, thanking people for attending and inviting them on to the hotel, Ed like a stone beside her.

  Nicola nodded. Dorothy was more a friend than a neighbour, and so was Rob, her thirty-something son who lived in Brighton with his wife and little daughter. They spent every summer with Dorothy in St Ives, so they’d been part of holidays in Cornwall for as long as Nicola could remember.

  ‘Are we going to the hotel now?’ Kelly stared around the dispersing crowd. ‘This is so depressing. All those old people.’

  Dorothy took the girl’s arm. ‘Why don’t you come in the car with Rob and me? We could leave now.’

  Nicola was grateful; Kelly was still in a funk. The combination of her grandmother’s death and the consequences of her slump at school was a grim one.

  Over twenty people came back to the hotel for afternoon tea, most of them elderly. Ed only shook his head when Melanie suggested they did a round and chat to people, so Nicola joined her sister-in-law circulating among the guests. Back at their own table, she squeezed Kelly’s arm. The poor girl must be dying – oh dear – to get away from the gathering.

  Rob leaned forward. ‘What do you have you planned for the house?’

  ‘We haven’t decided yet.’ Nicola pictured Coast Road in her head. It would be strange, never going back there.

  ‘You could rent it out – or turn into flats and do holiday lets yourselves.’

  Rob’s suggestion was something they hadn’t considered, but it was an idea. Ed was nodding – okay, he was frowning, too, but he didn’t seem dead against the idea. Which was surprising, when you considered how horrified he’d been at the prospect of owning it.

  Kelly was more enthusiastic. ‘So we could still come on holiday in the summer?’

  ‘You can,’ said Ed. ‘I’d like to see different places for a change. But we’ll think about your idea, Rob – thanks.’

  People started leaving, and again, it was Nicola who joined Melanie shaking hands and saying goodbye, aware all the time that Kelly, Rob and Dorothy were deep in conversation at the table, but Ed was just sitting there, staring into space with an odd little smile on his face.

  Chapter Four

  Thursday, 2nd April

  Ed gunned the car into the driveway and yanked on the handbrake. The London skies were as dark as his mood today – with the funeral three weeks behind them, he’d thought things were working out. Now this. Sorry, Ed, it’s government cutbacks. We’ll give you a good reference. As if a good reference was going to help him find another job at his age. And gardening jobs in London weren’t exactly ten a penny at the best of times.

  No one was home, not surprising at three o’clock on a Thursday. He’d left work early, unable to face the thought of his colleagues’ sympathy when they returned to headquarters to change and go home. What was he supposed to do now? Okay, Nicola worked full-time and she was the main earner – his London Parks Department wage wasn’t the best in the world. It had rankled back in the day, though he’d got used to it now. But only this week Nic had said she wanted to reduce her hours to be at home more for Kelly. And that was the other problem – after years of being a normal stroppy adolescent, their daughter had turned into the teenager from hell, talking back at every opportunity and failing exams all over the place. None of them were happy now.

  Perched at the breakfast bar, he started an online job search, but Nicola’s key was turning in the lock before he’d found anything that was even remotely suitable. Where had the afternoon gone? And where was Kelly?

  ‘She messaged. She and Jess are doing their homework at Jess’s. You’re looking pretty sick – what’s up?’ Nicola dropped her bag in the corner and sat down beside him.

  She gaped while he told her, then leaned her chin in one hand, her eyes thoughtful. ‘What scumbags they are. But you’ll get a redundancy payment. Don’t worry, love. We’ll manage.’

  ‘How? There’s nothing going. I’ve looked.’

  She turned in her chair to face him. ‘I’ve been thinking. I know we decided to rent out Amelia’s house, but we could sell it instead. That would help with cash short term, and long term, okay, we wouldn’t have the rental income, but we wouldn’t have the hassle, either.’

  It was exactly what he couldn’t possibly do… but it was the logical solution, and now Nic was on a mission.

  ‘I’ll look online, see how much houses like that are going for in Cornwall. Then we’ll have more idea.’

  Ed left her to it; it was his turn to cook. They were having chilli con carne, his speciality, and knowing Nic, she’d have the house on the market before the mince had browned.

  By the time the chilli was bubbling and Kelly had banged into the flat, Ed’s nerves were at breaking point. Nicola was miles deep in her research, throwing him the odd remark like, ‘Here’s one for 150K for six bedrooms, imagine the state that must be in.’ He was about to yell for Kelly when Nicola exclaimed, waving him over.

  ‘Wow – come and look at this! Oh my God, Ed, this would be…’

  He peered over her shoulder. She was on the website of a St Ives newspaper, looking at local advertisements. She pointed to the left side of the screen and he gaped. It was a job advert; assistant to the estate manager in a country park not far from St Ives. They’d been there as visitors; it was one of those huge places with a big house and extensive grounds and deer and God knows what.

  Nicola’s eyes were shining. ‘Oh, Ed. It would be perfect for you. And it could be the ideal solution for us all – we can keep Amelia’s house, live in it. You must apply. This could be just what Kelly needs.’

  He reeled in shock. Live in Amelia’s… She had no idea.

  His daughter trailed into the kitchen. ‘What does Kelly need?’

  Ed turned to give her an attempt at a smile. It would be the two of them versus Nicola here, but this was the kind of argument that Nic usually won.

  The cracks in his life were getting bigger. He couldn’t live in that house any more than he could sell it, but it was going to come down to one or the other.

  And where would that leave him?

  Kelly yanked the fridge open and grabbed a coke. This was the crappiest of all the crap times of her entire crappy life. She’d spent the past week and a half crying and pleading, but it nothing she said made any impact on Mum and Dad. They were only serious about moving to St Ives – they had a measly nineteen days – nineteen days – left in London now. Dad’s interview had either gone really well or else he’d been the only person interested in the crappy job, because they’d waited exactly two days before offering it to him, starting in next month for God’s sake, and she was so angry she couldn’t even think straight. Mum had whisked her off last week to look at the new school and it was scary, no, it was terrifying, the way her life was unravelling. Being fifteen was rubbish, you were old enoug
h to know what was best for you but you had no rights to do anything about it when people were shoving you in the wrong direction. She might never see Jess again. All the plans they’d made would come to nothing.

  Kelly pulled out the concert brochure she’d been hiding, waiting for a good moment to tell Mum and Dad about it. Ariana Grande, just about the best singer ever, was coming to London in the half term week and Jess’s Mum had said she’d take them. Tears blurred the brochure, and Kelly sniffed. She’d have had a chance of persuading her parents to let her go if they’d still been in London, but from St Ives? She could hear Mum now. ‘Too far, darling, with your exams coming up.’ Everything was about the bloody exams.

  The car crunched into the drive outside, and Kelly fled the kitchen, reaching the safety of her room just in time. Mum and Dad had gone for a Saturday shop, which usually meant she got the flat to herself for a couple of hours, but not today. Typical.

  Mum’s head came round the bedroom door. ‘Kel? Get your jacket. Bertram’s have a sale on – we’ll go back and you can choose some furniture for your new room. We can have stuff sent from their Cornwall branch.’

  Kelly glared, but it was more than her life was worth to say anything about knocking first. They were on her back about everything these days.

  ‘I don’t want new stuff.’

  Her mother came in and sat down on the bed. ‘You’ll enjoy having it, sweetie. Things have been tough for a while, I know, but this is going to be our fresh start. Come and choose some things – if you really don’t want to, I’ll choose for you.’

  No way. Kelly dragged her feet across the room, ignoring the relieved smile on Mum’s face. ‘Nothing’s going to make me enjoy living at the end of the world. You can’t make me go to Cornwall, either.’

  Oh yes, they could – but she could leave home at sixteen, couldn’t she? Three months to go… Kelly grabbed her jacket from the coat stand in the hall. Three months was a life sentence.

 

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