by Susan Lewis
Was there resentment in her tone? Their difference in height had always been a sore point for Penny. There was none that Andee could detect.
Andee simply smiled again and closed the door.
‘Is anyone else here?’ Penny asked, glancing down the hall.
‘No, we haven’t told anyone,’ Maureen replied. ‘We weren’t sure you’d want us to yet.’
Penny said, ‘So no one’s been here – ahead of me?’
Curious, Andee countered, ‘Like who?’
Penny laughed. ‘I’ve no idea, but I do think it’s important for us to have this time to ourselves, don’t you? There’s so much catching up to do, and we really don’t need all the distractions of the police and media. After all, this isn’t anyone’s business but ours.’
Andee didn’t disagree, but she was preoccupied with wondering if Penny really thought the press and authorities were ahead of her, or if her question had been about someone or something else entirely.
With a playful twinkle Penny turned back to Maureen. ‘There’s so much I want to ask you, and tell you, the question is where to begin?’
In spite of having several suggestions for that, Andee gestured for everyone to go inside.
‘We’ve got tea and coconut cake,’ Maureen announced as they went into the kitchen, clearly waiting for Penny to comment on how wonderful it was that her mother had remembered.
Penny said, ‘I’m sure I’m too excited to eat a thing.’
Hiding her disappointment, Maureen tried again. ‘Maybe we should be having champagne. Oh my, I still can’t believe … Is it really you? I know it is. Andee’s right, you haven’t changed …’
‘Apart from to get older,’ Penny said wryly. She was looking around the room, taking everything in. ‘You’ve redecorated, and the furniture’s different, but it’s still taking me straight back to my childhood and all the school holidays we spent here with cousin Frank. How is he? Are you still in touch with him?’
‘Of course,’ Maureen assured her, starting towards the family photos then apparently changing her mind. ‘He’s married now, and his children are all grown up, like Andee’s.’
‘You have children?’ Penny directed at Andee, appearing delighted. ‘Of course, I should have known you would. What’re their names? How old are they?’
‘Luke’s twenty-one and Alayna’s nineteen,’ Maureen told her proudly. Andee remained silent, appraising Penny, and letting her mother do the talking.
‘So have they left home?’ enquired Penny.
‘Oh yes, a while ago,’ Maureen replied. ‘But we still see them quite often and they’re in touch all the time. Luke’s currently in Africa helping to save rhinos, and Alayna’s at Bristol Uni studying English and drama. She’s planning to go off travelling for a year when she finishes.’
Penny’s eyebrows rose with interest.
‘She decided to take her gap year after she graduates,’ Maureen explained. ‘She’s working and saving very hard to finance her trip.’
Deciding this was enough about her children, Andee said to Penny, ‘What about you? Are you a mother?’
Penny laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll tell you all about it,’ she promised, ‘but first shall we sit down and have a cup of tea?’
Andee filled the teapot while Maureen fussed about with napkins, listening and chuckling as Penny fondly recalled how she and Andee, with their cousin Frank, used to ride their bicycles down to the caravan parks of Perryman’s Cove, known locally as Paradise Cove, to make friends with kids from all over the world.
‘The world?’ Andee echoed, bringing the pot to the table.
‘OK, the country,’ Penny conceded, ‘but there were a couple of kids from Germany once, as I recall, and you must remember that hilarious hippy family from Ireland.’
Actually, Andee did remember them, the Irish and the Germans, and she wondered if this was an attempt on Penny’s part to prove she wasn’t an impostor.
‘You fell in love with one of the Irish boys,’ Penny teased. ‘He was completely gorgeous. All the girls fancied him, and we were devastated when his girlfriend turned up for the second week. What was his name?’
‘Actually, it was a Welsh boy, Evan, whose girlfriend turned up for the second week,’ Andee reminded her.
‘Oh, that’s right, but it was the same year, I’m sure of it. What was the Irish boy’s name?’
‘I can’t remember.’
‘Well, it was a long time ago, and we were falling in and out of love all over the place back then. How could we possibly remember them all?’
‘I had no idea you were having so many romantic adventures,’ Maureen commented wryly.
‘Oh, it was all perfectly innocent,’ Penny assured her, adding with a wink at Andee, ‘until it wasn’t.’
Wondering why she’d added that when it had never been anything but innocent, Andee poured the tea while blushing Maureen cut the cake.
‘So fancy you living in Granny and Grandpa’s house now,’ Penny remarked, looking around again. ‘I can’t tell you how thrilled I was when I found out. It would be awful to think of strangers here.’
‘Exactly when did you find out?’ Andee enquired mildly.
Penny frowned as she thought. ‘Quite recently,’ she admitted. ‘I guess it was in one of the first reports I received.’
Andee’s eyes flicked to her mother.
Penny laughed. ‘I’m sorry, I have to confess that I hired someone to find out all about you. I felt I had to before I got in touch so I could work out whether or not I’d be welcome. Of course as soon as I was told you’d been a detective, Andee, I knew you’d be sceptical, ready to pick apart anything I said, and I honestly don’t blame you. I’m sure I’d be the same if the tables were turned. All these years and no contact, you must be asking yourself why suddenly now?’
Andee waited for her to answer the question.
‘I’ve wanted to be in touch many times,’ Penny told their mother. ‘I’ve hated holding back, but it’s taken until now for me to feel confident about approaching you.’
‘But you’re my daughter,’ Maureen exclaimed, ‘there was never any reason to hold back.’
Penny smiled and lowered her eyes to her plate. As she lifted a dainty fork to eat Andee noticed that her hands were covered to the base of her fingers by a glove-like extension to her silk sleeves. She was wearing an exquisite gold band studded with yellow sapphires or diamonds on the third finger of her left hand, and a more subtle assortment of rings on the other, but there was no disguising the cracked and flaking soreness of her skin. Penny had never suffered with eczema as a child, but she apparently did now. ‘I needed to be in the right place, up here, to answer your questions,’ she said softly, tapping her head.
‘And you feel you are now?’ Andee asked.
Penny nodded slowly, still not looking up. ‘I think so. It won’t be easy, for any of us, and I kept asking myself if it wouldn’t be better just to let things go on as they were. You’re used to me being gone. The space I left has long since filled up, and I’ve made a new life for myself … Why disrupt it?’
Why indeed, Andee was asking herself. ‘But you decided to,’ she said shortly, ‘and now here you are.’
Apparently unfazed by Andee’s manner, Penny sighed softly as she reached for her mother’s hand. ‘Yes, here I am,’ she said. ‘We’ve got so much time to make up for, so many stories to share.’
Though Maureen was smiling, her eyes were uncertain as they moved briefly to Andee’s.
Understanding that her mother wanted her to continue asking the questions, Andee said, ‘Naturally, the first story we’d love you to share is what happened to you all those years ago. Where did you go? Why could no one ever find you?’
‘Mmm,’ Penny murmured, nodding her head as she gazed absently down at her cake. Then quite suddenly she gasped. ‘This always used to be my favourite. I can’t believe you remembered. I haven’t had it in years. Did you make it?’ Her eyes were bright with
surprise and affection as she looked at her mother.
‘Yes, I did,’ Maureen told her, flushing with pleasure. ‘I’m not sure it’s as good as I used to make it …’
‘Oh, I’m sure it is,’ and digging in with her fork Penny helped herself to a generous mouthful. ‘Mmm, it’s perfect,’ she insisted, showering a few crumbs. ‘Oh God, it’s bringing back so many memories.’
Andee said, ‘Such as where you went all those years ago, and why no one could find you?’
Maureen stared an admonishment as all the joy seemed to drain from Penny, and she put her fork down again.
‘That was a strange time,’ she said quietly, ‘and it was so long ago that it feels now as though it happened to somebody else.’
But it didn’t, it happened to you, Andee wanted to point out, so now please tell us what we need to know.
‘It’s not a good story,’ Penny admitted, gazing into the distance, ‘and definitely not one for us to start with. It’ll bring us all down and I think today should be about celebrating our reunion, don’t you?’
Andee would have pressed her, had Maureen not said, ‘You’re right, dear, it should be a celebration, and if it upsets you to dwell on those times …’
‘It does,’ Penny confessed, ‘quite a lot, but I’ve had counselling, and fortunately for the most part I’ve managed to put it behind me. I’m afraid I still have nightmares from time to time, but I have such a lot to feel thankful for now.’
They waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. Seconds ticked by, until Maureen said brightly, ‘Well, you look marvellous.’
Penny smiled. ‘Yes, my life is very different now to what it was when I first went away, but a lot of years have passed, and things always change.’
‘So what do you do now?’ Andee enquired.
Penny shrugged as if to say, where to begin? ‘I have an import-export company that we run from London,’ she replied. ‘A real estate and property management company, also based in London. Two medical centres, one in Connecticut, the other in Houston. A travel agency that we run out of Stockholm,’ her eyes danced playfully, ‘and as of about a year ago we have a highly exclusive online dating agency.’
Maureen was clearly as stunned as she was impressed.
Andee said, ‘We?’
‘I have a number of partners,’ Penny explained, taking out her phone as it rang. After checking who it was she said, ‘Will you think me terribly rude? It’s a call I’ve been waiting for and I really ought to take it. I’ll be just a minute,’ and clicking on she announced herself, ‘Michelle,’ as she got to her feet and began speaking in a language Andee couldn’t even identify, much less understand.
‘Nej, han har inte varit här.’ (No, he hasn’t been here.) ‘Ja, jag är säker.’ (Yes, I’m sure.) ‘Hur tror du det känns att vara tillbaka här?’ (How do you think it feels being back?)
Penny laughed in a vaguely bitter way. ‘Allt är ett spel, det bara beror på hur man spelar det.’ (Everything’s a game, it just depends how you play it.)
Andee watched her mother’s eyes following Penny out of the back door on to the patio. They had no idea what had been said, or who Penny had been talking to. The phone call, the incomprehensible language was emphasising more than ever what different worlds they inhabited.
Turning to Andee, Maureen murmured, ‘She’s obviously doing very well for herself.’
Andee said, archly, ‘And managing not to tell us very much.’
Maureen’s nod was slow, pensive.
‘Especially about the time she disappeared. Do you have any idea why she’s being so reticent?’ Andee asked.
Hearing the challenge, Maureen looked at Penny again as she said, ‘She just told us, she’d rather not talk about it, and if it was that bad who can blame her?’
‘Mum,’ Andee said darkly.
‘Please don’t be like that,’ Maureen protested. ‘She’s hardly been here … Ssh, she’s coming back.’
Andee watched her sister return, tucking away her phone and breaking into a smile. ‘All sorted,’ Penny declared, closing the door behind her, ‘but I’m afraid time is running out and there are several more calls I need to make.’
‘You can use the front room,’ Maureen offered. ‘You’ll be nice and private in there.’
Penny tilted her head fondly. ‘That’s so kind of you, but I’ve booked myself into the Kesterly Royal for tonight. It’ll be easier if I work from there. I was hoping we could meet again tomorrow before I go back to London?’
‘Yes, yes of course,’ Maureen agreed, glancing at Andee. ‘We’d love that, but it’s been so short today. Are you sure you can’t stay any longer?’
‘I wish I could, really I do, but I’m afraid my time isn’t my own. Could we meet for lunch tomorrow? I hear the Royal has a very good restaurant overlooking the bay.’
‘The Palme d’Or,’ Maureen told her.
Penny came to hug her. ‘I’ll book a table for one o’clock. I hope you’ll join us, Andee.’
‘I wouldn’t miss it,’ Andee assured her, and after coolly returning her sister’s embrace she remained in the kitchen while her mother went to the front door.
‘She’s got a chauffeur,’ Maureen stated when she came back.
Andee raised an eyebrow as she slid Penny’s teacup into a plastic bag. She might not doubt that the woman who’d drunk from it was her sister, but Detective Inspector Gould would almost certainly want to run a more scientific check.
Maureen was staring at the chair Penny had vacated. ‘Did I just dream all that?’ she murmured.
‘Have some more tea,’ Andee advised.
Sitting down, Maureen pushed her hands through her hair as Andee poured.
Andee allowed several minutes to pass before she spoke in a quiet, but steely voice. ‘I really don’t know what’s going on with her,’ she said, ‘but why is she in touch with us now after allowing us to think she was dead for so many years? I think there’s more to it than her being ready to reconnect.’
Maureen flicked a glance her way, but said nothing.
‘Mum, please talk to me. I feel like you’re keeping something back …’
Maureen shook her head.
Andee took a breath. ‘As you said yourself, I never automatically trust anyone or anything, but you usually do. And the fact that you’ve been more nervous than excited about seeing Penny is telling. I’m getting the sense that you know more about her disappearance than you’re letting on, and it’s tearing you apart.’
‘OK, OK, but it’s not what you … Actually, I don’t know what you think, but it’s been so long since we talked about her, I mean really talked about her, and you’ve either forgotten, or chosen to forget what she could be like.’
Accepting that was at least partly true, Andee waited for her to continue.
‘It’s not unusual,’ Maureen told her. ‘When someone dies, or disappears the way she did, you only remember the good things. It’s human nature; it’s the same for everyone. You put all the other things out of your mind. I told myself she was just a child, that they had nothing to do with why she went, and I still don’t know that they did.’
‘What other things?’ Andee asked.
‘You really don’t remember?’
‘Why don’t you just tell me?’
Maureen swallowed hard and ran her hands over her face. ‘Well, there were times,’ she began, ‘that I felt your sister did things deliberately to make herself … to annoy or even to hurt people. She didn’t seem …’ She shook her head. ‘She never really seemed sorry when she said it, or to care if she was punished. She’d put on a show of being upset … Sometimes I think the tears were real, but there were other times … I don’t know, it was like she was behaving the way we thought she should rather than the way she felt.’
‘Did you ever talk to Daddy about her – behaviour?’ Andee asked.
‘Actually, we talked about it endlessly before she went and after she’d gone. We never knew if the depressi
ons were genuine, or if they were something she’d read about and decided to pretend were afflicting her. I mean, obviously something was wrong or she wouldn’t have been the way she was, or run away as often as she did …’
‘Did you ever find out where she went?’
Maureen shook her head. ‘I think Daddy knew. He never told me, he thought it was best for me not to know …’
‘But she’s your daughter! How could it be best for you not to know?’
‘Times were different back then and your father was very … protective.’
‘How was holding information back from you protecting her?’
‘It wasn’t just her he was protecting, it was me, and you.’
‘From what?’
‘I didn’t ask.’
‘Not even when she didn’t come back?’
‘If your father had wanted me to know, if he’d felt it would help in some way to find her, he’d have told me.’
Stunned by such blind faith, and lack of maternal strength, Andee said, ‘So where do you think she went all those times?’
Maureen sighed. ‘I told myself she was with homeless people, and I think she was …’ When she broke off, Andee used silence to demand more, but Maureen stayed silent too.
‘Mum, you obviously believe something else, even if you never knew it for certain.’
Maureen’s cheeks coloured. ‘OK, I think he found her with men,’ she admitted finally.
‘What men?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I think you do.’
‘I swear I don’t.’
Andee was ready to scream. ‘Why did you never tell the police what you suspected?’ she cried. ‘It wasn’t in any of your statements …’
‘Your father knew what I thought … what I was afraid of. Andee, please don’t shout at me. If there had been …’
‘Mum, Penny was thirteen the first time she disappeared, and only fourteen when she went for good. That makes her …’
‘I know what you’re going to say, but I’d rather not have it spelt out, thank you very much.’