‘There are times when I think she hates me, Rose,’ Etta had said sadly. ‘But I honestly can’t believe she’d have done something like this on purpose.’
Rose had tried to comfort her, to reassure her that Sarah did not hate her but was simply going through a patch of adolescent insecurity and really wanted nothing more than Etta’s love. She had seen the longing in Sarah’s eyes when they had last spoken. The girl wanted to have things put right but she was not quite mature enough to know how to go about it herself.
Etta had made them tea and they sat outside in the shade to drink it, protected by the colourful umbrella over the garden table. It was some time before Rose had the courage to ask if Sarah had said anything about seeing two men on the road on Thursday night when Joe died.
‘No, not a word,’ Etta had replied emphatically. ‘My God, you don’t think she knows something about Joe’s death and that’s why she’s disappeared, do you?’
The more she had thought about it the more certain Rose was that this was the case. Why else would Sarah have mentioned it to her and not her mother? It was not, as she had at first imagined and Jack had later suggested, the highly charged imagination of a grieving teenager. Sarah really had seen something. ‘I don’t know. I’m afraid I broke my promise to Sarah, Etta. I told the police what she confided in me.’ Rose ran through what Sarah had said and hoped she had imparted the facts without giving Etta further cause for alarm.
‘I’m glad you did, Rose. They’re likely to take more notice if they realise you are worried as well. Oh, God, I wish she was here. I need her right now and there’re so many things I wish I’d said to her.’ Tears filled Etta’s eyes. She pulled a crumpled tissue from the pocket of her summer dress and blew her nose. ‘I love her, Rose, even if she doesn’t think so.’
‘I know you do.’
‘My parents and in-laws are doing their best, but it’s hit them hard and they’re not coping very well. Naturally they all expected to die before any of us. Even Ed’s parents are going about in a daze. And although they’re not saying anything, I know they believe that something’s happened to Sarah as well.’
They had sat in silence for several minutes. Rose gave Etta time to regain her composure before asking the question which she felt, deep down, she had no right to ask, but the answer to which might matter. ‘Is there anything else troubling you?’
‘Not really,’ she sniffed, shaking her head. But when she looked into Rose’s eyes Rose knew that there was, that what Sarah had told her was true and that Etta had convinced herself that Joe’s death was her punishment for having an affair with a married man. ‘I … oh, God. Rose, if I tell you something will you swear it’ll go no further?’
‘Of course it won’t.’
‘I’ve been seeing someone for just over a year. We don’t meet often because it isn’t possible. He’s married. I’ve tried to break it off, but I couldn’t. I know it’s wrong, and so does he, but there it is. I’ve made sure no one knows, not even Joe and Sarah. It sounds so feeble, but we got to know one another and just couldn’t help ourselves. I suppose everyone in the same situation says the same thing. I was lonely and so was he. There were things in his past which had led to the marriage going wrong. He was honest enough to tell me right from the start that there was no chance of him leaving his wife.
‘Once I’d got used to being on my own again I imagined I’d meet someone else somewhere along the line. It never happened, not until I met – well, not until I met this man. It isn’t easy to find anyone suitable at my age. They’re either already married or in a relationship or out for one thing. He’s away at the moment and I’m dreading telling him about Joe. He might think he’s obliged to keep seeing me out of pity.’
‘I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to see him.’
‘Not any more. He didn’t say, but I got the impression this holiday with his wife is some sort of turning point. I think he wants to try again with her, that what I’ve said has sunk in. I hope it works, I really don’t need the extra strain at the moment. But now he might think I couldn’t stand the added blow of separation.’
Rose saw how lucky she was in that respect: the men who showed an interest in her were free agents. She had no such moral decisions to make. And then she looked closely at Etta and understood her dilemma. She was large-boned and firm-featured with thick fairish hair cut in a short bob. There was nothing striking about her, nothing to make heads turn. It wasn’t until you got to know her that her attraction became obvious. She was kind and gentle and a good listener and always tried to act for the best, a woman in whose company you felt important and cared for. Rose hoped that whoever the man was, he had treated her well and had wanted something more than extra-marital sex. Etta had made a moral judgement and was prepared for the affair to end. She had stopped herself from mentioning the man’s name and Rose did not ask it. She listened as Etta described him and his lifestyle and saw the first spark of animation in her face since she had learned that her son was dead. If he did break off the relationship it was going to hurt Etta more than she realised.
Forty-five minutes had elapsed when Etta’s parents came back with several bags of groceries. Rose chatted to them briefly then said it was time she was going.
Her mother had not told Sarah about the affair. So how had she found out about it?
Etta walked her to the gate. ‘Thanks for coming, Rose. I’ll let you know if there’s any news.’
‘Etta, these friends of Sarah’s, you’re sure one of them isn’t putting her up?’
‘No, the police have already checked. I gave them their telephone numbers. Oh, I know Sarah thinks I disapprove of them on principle, just because they are her friends, but I don’t trust them, Rose, and I’m sure they take drugs. That’s why I was so worried about Sarah, I thought they’d draw her in. I just wish I’d been more tactful.’
‘Amy and Roz, you mean?’
‘Yes. Do you know them?’
‘No, Sarah mentioned their names. Do you know where they live?’
‘Yes, but Amy’ll be at work now.’
Surprisingly, Etta told her where they could be found without asking Rose why she wanted to know. But Etta had more than Rose’s intended actions on her mind.
‘You went to see these girls?’ Evelyn asked, trying not to show how aghast she was at Rose’s audacity. Before they left she would find a few minutes to have a further chat with Barry Rowe. Whatever Rose thought, she did need someone to keep an eye on her or at least to try to dissuade her from some of her rasher behaviour.
Rose nodded. They had finished eating and the plates were pushed to the middle of the table. Shadows had lengthened on the lawn but there was still some daylight.
‘Yes. Amy works in a pub during the afternoons. I was lucky, it wasn’t busy, just a few of the regular solid drinkers. She said she didn’t know that Sarah had been reported missing. I believed her. I asked her about Mark, too – he turns out to be Amy’s brother, by the way, but she seems to have little to do with him.’ Rose recounted the rest of the conversation.
‘They’ve gone off together?’ Amy had said, sounding surprised. ‘I didn’t think Mark was that serious about her.’
That statement had confirmed what Rose suspected. Mark and Sarah had not disappeared for reasons connected with romance. She had stayed only long enough to drink the half of lager and lime she had felt obliged to buy. She stepped out into the glare of sunlight and blinked. It was dazzling after the dimness of the pub. Rose began to walk, fully convinced that Amy knew nothing about any of the recent events.
Roz had been a different matter. She was temporarily unemployed, she told Rose who found her at home in her first-floor bed-sit. From street level she had heard the loud rock music coming from the open upstairs window. Initially, Roz had been cagey and asked if Rose was from the police or any other agency of authority.
Rose had laughed. ‘Do I look like police?’ she had said, her eyebrows raised in astonishment.
&
nbsp; ‘Well, you can’t tell these days. The one who came before didn’t look much like one either.’
Yes, Jack had said someone had already spoken to Sarah’s friends. ‘May I come in?’
Reluctantly Roz had said she could. Rose had sized her up immediately. She was a young woman who lived from day to day and believed in enjoying herself. For Roz the conventions did not exist and she had no fear of people’s opinion of her. Dressed entirely in black, she ought to have been hot but showed no signs of being so. Her thin arms were pale beneath the T-shirt emblazoned with the name of a heavy metal band. Her dark hair was deliberately disarrayed and her purple lipstick gave her a ghoulish appearance. But it was her pupils which gave her away. They were unnaturally dilated. Etta was right, she took drugs.
‘Want a beer? I’ve got some in the fridge.’
Rose accepted, knowing that to share something was one way of getting someone to talk.
The table-top fridge was in an alcove which served as the kitchen. It was half partitioned off from the main living area with a louvred pine screen which reached from floor to ceiling and which, when folded back, revealed a two-burner cooker, a sink and a washing-machine.
Rose accepted the drink and repeated the conversation she had had with Amy.
‘Amy’s right. Mark wouldn’t go off with her. He wasn’t that interested.’
A second confirmation. What does he do, Amy’s brother? If he had a job he would have been missed by now.
‘I was right, you are from the police.’ She had avoided answering the question.
‘No, I’m not. Believe it or not, I’m an artist.’
Roz, perched on the side of an armchair, slid sideways into its seat and crossed her thin legs. For several seconds she appeared to be thinking. ‘Yeah. I remember now. Sarah told me. I thought I knew the name. Okay, Mrs Artist, tell me why you’re asking all these questions?’
Good point, Rose thought. Because she wasn’t sure herself. ‘Because I care about Sarah,’ was the best she could come up with. ‘And her mother who’s worried sick.’
‘Well, she would be after what happened to Joe. Joe was all right. Straight, you know what I mean? Sarah’s all right, too. A bit stuffy, though. She and Mark would never have lasted. They don’t have, shall we say, the same interests.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Oh, shit. Me and my mouth.’
‘Is it drugs?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ Roz looked down at her black laced boots. ‘If anyone ever asks I’ll deny I’ve said it.’
‘Thank you. Let’s pretend that conversation never took place.’ It had been an admission and both women knew it. ‘Roz, if I tell you what I think happened, would you be willing to listen?’
‘If you like. I haven’t got anything else to do.’ She examined a torn fingernail.
‘I think Mark wanted Joe Chynoweth to do something illegal, something to do with his boat and drugs. Sarah saw Mark and another man in almost the very spot where Joe died that night. Maybe they had arranged to meet or maybe they followed him. I think they killed him, possibly accidentally, when he refused to do what they wanted, and I also think they may have seen Sarah on the last bus to Mousehole and that’s why she’s disappeared. Either she’s hiding somewhere or Mark and this other man are holding her.’ Rose frowned. What good would holding her do? If they intended letting her go it would only delay, not stop her going to the police. They would have to kill her to be certain they had prevented her doing so.
Roz’s shriek of laughter took her by surprise. ‘Mark? Involved in something that big? You’ve got to be joking. Look. Mrs Trevelyan, Mark’s got no balls. He never has had. He can’t even get a job because he goes all tongue-tied in interviews. Okay, I know I’m not exactly holding down an executive post myself at the moment, but I can always find work when I need it.
‘You’ve got him all wrong. Mark sells the makings of the odd joint or two and a few Ecstasy tablets when he can get hold of them. Even that scares him shitless, but it’s his way of trying to belong. If it wasn’t for that everyone would ignore him. You can forget your theory, it just isn’t on.’
Rose sipped her drink, trying not to spill it down the front of her T-shirt. She had not liked to ask for a glass, knowing that it was the in thing amongst youngsters to drink from the bottle. It was a habit she abhorred but she could hardly point this out to her hostess when the last thing she wanted to do was to antagonise her.
Rose wiped her mouth and thought for a while. ‘Why was Sarah so unhappy at home?’
Roz shrugged and tilted her own bottle. She had no trouble in swallowing several inches of the liquid without choking. ‘Something to do with her mother, I guess.’
‘Didn’t they get on?’
‘You tell me. You’re supposed to be the friend of the family.’
‘All right. They didn’t get on. What I’m asking is, why not?’
‘Mrs Chynoweth is having it off with some married bloke from St Ives. It was supposed to be a secret, but there aren’t any secrets down here.’
‘But why did this upset Sarah so much?’
‘No idea.’
‘How do you know this is true?’
Roz’s expression was sly. She tapped the side of her nose and grinned.
‘Did Sarah tell you?’
‘No. She had no need to, I saw it for myself. We were over at St Ives. There’s a place where we go sometimes. It’s a bit of a walk out of the town and we thought it was fairly private.’
Rose guessed what they went there to do, but made no comment.
‘Anyway, there they were, Sarah’s mum and this man all wrapped around each other, kissing. His hand was at the back of her head. We saw the wedding ring. I knew it was her when she turned around but we made ourselves scarce and I don’t think they saw us.’
‘He might be divorced but still wearing a ring.’ Rose knew different but she was curious as to why Roz and Sarah had made the assumption so quickly.
‘Come off it. If he was divorced she’d have taken him home, introduced him to her family and they wouldn’t need to go sneaking off to isolated places for a bit of sex.’
‘How did Sarah take it?’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She threw back her long hair. ‘I suppose not very well. She thinks a lot of her mum, whatever impression she might give, and makes her out to be some sort of saint. I think she was shocked and hurt. Anyway, they split up and Sarah said she wanted to follow him. I went along with her – once she’s set her mind on something there’s no stopping her. You want to see his place, Mrs T. He’s got to be stinking rich. We hid in the drive and watched him let himself in. I thought people like that were car crazy and never walked. It just goes to show.’ She shrugged as if she found the world a very strange place.
‘We caught the bus back then. Sarah was very quiet. I haven’t seen much of her since. So that’s why she’s probably pissed off at her mother. My mother, well, the less said about her the better. Me and my sister both buggered off as soon as we were old enough. Sarah doesn’t know how lucky she is.’
‘Thank you for talking to me, Roz. And thanks for the drink.’ Rose stood and placed the half-empty bottle on the coffee table. She had noticed that the tiny flat was clean and tidy. Young Roz was a bit of an enigma.
Roz grinned. ‘Don’t thank me for something you didn’t enjoy. I bet you prefer wine.’
Rose grinned back. Whatever her recreational hobbies might be she could not help liking the girl …
‘And that was it,’ Rose said. ‘It was only then I realised how late it was and rang for a taxi,’ she concluded, looking up to see her parents’ puzzled faces. They’d had no idea of the things Rose got up to when they were not around. ‘I think I’d better open some more wine, my throat’s parched.’
‘Or we could have coffee, dear?’ Evelyn suggested.
‘Of course. I’ll make you both some coffee and I’ll open some more wine.’
Evelyn shook her head. Rose
was incorrigible. ‘What do you intend to do with this information?’
Rose hesitated, the kettle in one hand, the other on the cold tap. ‘I’m not sure. I mean, Jack, or someone, spoke to both girls, they’ll have told him the same thing.’
‘Would they?’ Arthur asked.
‘Why shouldn’t they, Dad?’
‘Well, the drugs thing for a start. They’re not going to admit that to the police. And they probably wouldn’t think Etta’s affair was important. They’d want to keep out of it as much as possible, especially if what you say is true and they really have no idea where Sarah and Mark have gone.
‘You see, Rose, you initially suggested that Sarah’s disappearance might be connected with this man Etta’s been seeing, in that Sarah wished to punish her mother, but has it occurred to you that Joe’s death might be connected as well?’
Rose had already filled the kettle and switched it on. Now she stood, staring at her father, the corkscrew half-way down the cork of a second bottle of burgundy. ‘Oh, no. It can’t be possible. Surely it can’t be?’
She knew exactly what Arthur meant. Joe was straight – everyone, including Roz, had said so. If he, like Sarah, had learned of his mother’s affair he might have tried to put a stop to it, he might have threatened to tell the wife. Etta had told her that this man had no intention of leaving home for her. Such a threat, even if the affair was over, might drive a man to do almost anything. Could it be that Sarah, from her seat on the bus, had seen Etta’s lover with Mark, maybe even recognised him, and that she, too, had had to be dealt with?
Betrayed in Cornwall Page 11