‘I was helping with the tyres. Dax, from Tornley?’ she tried.
He peered over her head, as if trying to spot someone he recognized.
She raised her voice, in case he was deaf. ‘Dax. Carol’s husband.’
A flicker of movement in the rheumy eyes. ‘Carol. Bill’s girl.’
She shook her head. ‘No, Dax’s girl. Dax’s wife?’
‘Bill’s girl,’ he repeated.
She was about to contradict him when an image returned from yesterday. The photo in the hallway in Dax’s house that she’d recognized. An older couple with a daughter. That woman had been Carol as a teenager. And now Hannah knew why the man’s face was familiar. That big, fleshy face on the narrow shoulders. The pale blue eyes.
Carol’s father was Bill.
Bill was Dax’s father-in-law.
Hannah stared.
That would explain why Carol was in Bill’s house.
Samuel’s face had clouded over. Then he turned, as if remembering what he’d been doing. He ran his fingers over the work-counter behind him, as if he were searching for something.
‘Samuel,’ she tried again. ‘Dax says that you saw me in a truck the other day. When the snow was here. Me and him. Doing something. Can I ask you what you remember, because he said you saw something?’
Behind her there was a roar of an engine.
Hannah spun around. She knew that sound. The growl of diesel. A gear being slammed into place.
Without a word she slipped away from the distracted old man, back to her bike. She jumped on and cycled straight down the back of Samuel’s property onto the other lane, as Dax had done last week, through the gate she’d opened for him and into the trees.
At a safe distance, she threw her bike down behind the hedge again and watched. Dax’s red pickup with its wide tyres screeched to a halt by the shack.
He jumped out and strode into the hut, his greasy curls flying.
He did look like a wolf, she thought.
Hunting.
But there was nothing even faintly charming about that any more.
Hannah picked up her bike and cycled off-road behind the hedge as fast as she could, listening for the engine.
Two minutes later she reached a paved road, and checked it was clear before turning right, following Dax’s route from last week towards Snadesdon.
This was useless. She needed to find Will at Laurie’s and persuade him to believe her.
She cycled fast, thinking about what she’d just learnt.
Bill was Dax’s father-in-law? Why had Dax not mentioned that? Was this about him being married to Carol? Had Dax thought he’d been in with a chance with Hannah, and tried to cover up that he was married till he’d got what he wanted?
Whenever Hannah heard a vehicle behind her, she jumped off, in case it was Dax, and hid behind a hedge or trees. The last thing she wanted was another conversation with him, not out here on an empty country road, alone. Before she reached Snadesdon she saw a signpost to Thurrup and took it, memorizing the return journey for later. Two miles on, she hit a busy A-road. Traffic appeared from nowhere. Lorries and caravans sped past her every minute or so, on their way to the shops at Thurrup and the coast. She was shocked at how happy she was to see the outside world again.
She cycled the rest of the nine miles on the flat East Anglian roads, skirting roadkill so bloody and squashed that she had no idea what it was.
What had she been thinking, trusting Dax like that? Idiot. Loneliness and desperation to please Barbara had lowered her defences and wiped out her normally good instincts about people.
When she reached Thurrup’s old-fashioned high street, breathless and pink-cheeked, Hannah asked a dog-walker for directions to the big new supermarket. She and Will had parked there to buy wine on the day of Nan Riley’s funeral. Her memory told her it was a few minutes’ walk from Laurie’s cul-de-sac.
Outside the supermarket Hannah shut her eyes, recalling that day.
Left. Definitely, left.
She cycled on and saw a familiar row of higgledy-piggledy pink cottages up ahead.
There. That was it.
A lane led to a row of new-build red-brick houses. She turned in and stopped. Disappointment punched her in the gut. Their old grey estate wasn’t there.
A few kids cycled around her. She spotted the dark hair and eyes, like Will’s.
‘Hi, Daniel,’ she called.
Laurie’s elder son nodded shyly.
‘Is your mum in?’
‘She’s gone to the post office.’
‘Oh, OK. Do you know where Will is?’
His eyes shifted past her. She turned to see Laurie walking into the cul-de-sac with some shopping bags, and with Caitlin and Sam.
‘Is he here?’ Hannah asked, taking one bag off her.
Laurie’s face fell. ‘He didn’t come back then?’
‘No.’ A new fear ran through Hannah. Where was he?
Laurie took out her key. ‘Come in.’ She motioned Hannah into the kitchen, and shut the door.
They waited until the kids were in the garden.
‘Laurie, where is he?’ Hannah asked.
Laurie put down her shopping bags. ‘He said he was going back to London, this morning. I really hoped he was coming to see you first.’
Stunned, Hannah sat up at the breakfast bar, which was covered in bowls of half-eaten kids’ cereal and spilt milk. ‘I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he just took Dax’s word over mine like that. He didn’t even give me a chance to explain. He just stormed off!’
Laurie removed the bowls and wiped the counter. ‘Hannah, that’s Will, though. The minute anyone hurts him, he’s off. It’s why he was always – you know – breaking hearts when he was young …’
Hannah sighed. ‘You mean shagging around, Laurie?’
Laurie dumped the dishes in the sink. ‘You know then?’
‘I know.’ Hannah put her head in her hands. ‘Shit! This is our daughter, Laurie, I’m sure of it. He can’t do this, not now.’
Laurie put on the kettle and lifted some laundry off the other stool and sat down. ‘Well, I don’t know if this is going to help, Hannah, but Maureen at the post office told me something weird today. She was at the funeral – one of Nan’s friends?’
‘What did she say?’
‘Well, I told her you’d moved into Tornley Hall. And that Ian was saying how it was weird that we’d never heard of it; and she said that she had, but only because she knew the family at Tornley Farm.’
‘Madeleine’s farm?’
Laurie nodded. ‘Apparently the sons went to school with Maureen’s grandson. She remembers them because there was a hoo-ha when the dad had a shotgun accident and went a bit bonkers. She said the boys had to leave school to help their mum and uncle keep the farm going. But this was the weird thing. Maureen said, “My boy was friendly with the younger one, Craig, but not so much with the older one, Dax.”’
Hannah thought she’d misheard. ‘No. No, that can’t be right. Dax lives in the cottages.’
‘Well, that’s what she said.’
‘Seriously?’ Hannah sat back. What the hell was going on here? ‘Oh God! Well, if that was true, it would certainly explain why Dax told Madeleine. Of course he would.’ She hit herself on the side of the head. ‘Idiot! I didn’t even think they might be related.’
‘And you’re sure Madeleine was hitting Elvie, not someone else?’
‘Definitely – that day anyway. I saw her yelling at someone else another time, too. I filmed that, as well.’
Laurie picked up a half-eaten satsuma from the worktop and ate a segment. Who was that then? The other son? The uncle?’
‘It might have been the other son. I haven’t seen the uncle, though. He might have died by now, I suppose.’
Laurie chewed thoughtfully. ‘Maureen told me his name. Something beginning with an “S”.’ She put down her cup. ‘Stephen … ? No. Samuel.’
Hannah’s mouth fell open. ‘La
urie – you are bloody joking.’
‘What?’ Laurie asked.
Hannah thought for a moment. ‘Laurie, there is something seriously weird going on over there. Samuel’s the one who “saw” me having sex in the truck. I went to ask him about it today, and Dax turned up, as if he knew I was there, so I left. And that day on the beach, when it was supposed to have happened, there was a blonde woman and kids in the distance, but now I’m wondering whether it was Carol and her kids, and that she lied that it was her friend. It’s almost as if they’re all working together to make Will believe Dax. Why would they do that?’
Laurie poured the tea. ‘What’s Elvie’s surname?’
‘The flower place is called “Mortrens’”, so Elvie Mortren, I suppose.’ Hannah rubbed her face. ‘Why?’
Laurie put a cup in front of her and took hers out through the kitchen door. ‘Right. I’ve got an idea.’
Laurie was gone for twenty minutes.
Hannah sat, sipping her tea, wondering where Will could be. All her numbers – for his mobile and the studio, as well as Mum and Dad’s, Jane’s and everybody else’s – were stored on her bloody phone.
There was a giggle, and Caitlin rushed in from the garden, asking shyly for a biscuit.
Hannah found her one, then went to push her on the swings.
The little girl flew in the air, her blonde hair flying. Hannah remembered Caitlin being born three years ago. The panic of picking up this tiny baby when they came to Thurrup, feeling the whole family’s eyes on her. Desperately hoping that Nan Riley and Laurie wouldn’t ask about her and Will starting a family – not when her belly was still sore from that morning’s IVF injection.
She thought of the photo of the little red-haired girl back at Tornley, and her determination grew.
That was her baby, and she wasn’t giving her up. She wanted this with her own child – now. She was ready.
Laurie rapped on the window and motioned Hannah back inside.
‘Right, my mate Jonathan is a police officer on the coast. I’ve rung him and told him one of my dads at the nursery was driving past Tornley and saw a woman with special needs that he thinks is called Elvie Mortren being assaulted on Tornley Farm by a tall woman in her sixties. I said the dad doesn’t want to get involved, so he told me anonymously. Jonathan’s going to ask around at the farm and at Tiggy’s. They’ll think it’s a bloke who’s reported it, not you. I mean, if that farmer hit Elvie outside, anyone could have seen it from the road. It’ll put the wind up them anyway. Maybe they’ll back off and leave you alone.’
Hannah nodded. ‘Thanks. But how would this “driver” know Elvie’s name?’
‘Well, people must know the Mortrens, if they have a business round here.’
Hannah felt reassured. ‘And you don’t think it’ll come back to me. I can’t have Barbara finding out about any of this.’
‘I didn’t mention your name.’
‘Thanks, Laurie.’
The boys ran into the garden, and Daniel took over pushing Caitlin on the swing. Hannah imagined the little red-haired girl in the middle of this happy throng. Three ready-made cousins.
The thought galvanized her. She jumped up. ‘Right. I better go, before it gets dark.’
Laurie picked up her keys. ‘No. I’ll give you a lift – and, by the way, take this.’
She handed Hannah a small mobile.
‘It’s Daniel’s one, for school. You need one out there.’
‘But …’
‘It’s fine. I’ll give him mine.’
Grateful, Hannah took it. They shouted goodbye to Ian and the kids, put Hannah’s bike in the car and drove out of Thurrup.
‘Thank for this,’ Hannah said, watching the light dying over the fields. She gave an awkward smile. ‘I always assumed you weren’t very happy about me and Will …’
Laurie glanced over. ‘Don’t be daft – you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.’
Hannah frowned, surprised. ‘Really?’
Laurie turned back onto the B-road. ‘Of course you are, silly. I wonder sometimes how much you know about our Will, and what he used to be like.’
‘Well, quite a bit.’
‘OK, well, he must have told you that his dad buggered off after poor Auntie Rita got ill. And he was a child carer – he used to have to do everything. I mean, everything. Shopping, sorting the food, washing her sometimes, getting her medicine.’
Hannah nodded. She didn’t say that when Will first told her, she almost didn’t believe him.
‘So Nan took him for the summer, to give him a break, and when he arrived he was always quiet for a few days. Then he’d go wild. Drove her insane.’
Hannah shifted uncomfortably. ‘What, like criminal wild?’
Laurie turned into Snadesdon. ‘No, nothing really bad. More self-destructive. Like if we all went clubbing in Great Yarmouth, he’d always end up in a fight with the bouncers. And he was always causing problems between my friends. They all fancied him, of course, and he’d mess them about, then piss off back to Salford and nobody would talk to me for about three months.’
‘Oh, Laurie.’
The marshes appeared to their right.
‘But he stopped it when he met you. Although there was that one time he messed up, and you dumped him?’
Hannah stared, surprised. He’d told Laurie that?
‘Yeah,’ she said uncertainly. ‘He did. He slept with an old girlfriend when we were starting to hang out together. He said that she was upset that he was starting to see me, and it just sort of happened. He was drunk.’
Laurie took the turn out of Snadesdon, checking both ways on the empty road. ‘Well, he was cut up – he really thought he’d blown it with you. You were the first girl who’d ever told him to get lost.’
Hannah tensed as they approached Tornley. Nothing felt good about coming back here. They passed the cottages and peered in.
‘So they’re all related? That’s creepy,’ Laurie said.
‘Hmm.’
‘You get that round here sometimes, in rural places – but we’re not all like that.’
‘I know,’ Hannah said.
‘Ian’s from Woodbridge, you know.’
Hannah smiled at her joke, and Laurie chuckled.
They pulled up in the driveway of Tornley Hall, Hannah praying that Will’s car would miraculously be there, but it wasn’t. Laurie turned off the engine and looked up. ‘Damn, I should have asked Maureen about the house too, in case Nan ever told her why she was so cross that night.’
They got out and lifted Hannah’s bike out of the back.
Laurie pointed. ‘Now I remember standing here, getting into Nan’s car, and she was furious. Somebody was shouting in the house, but it wasn’t at us.’
Hannah put the bike against the wall. ‘Probably Madeleine, telling lies and pissing Olive and Peter off, too. Listen, thanks for the lift. And for your help.’
‘No worries. Ring me on that mobile if you haven’t heard from Will tonight – I’m under “Mum”. And I’ll text Daniel’s number to Will, and tell him to call you.’
Hannah gave her an awkward hug. ‘Thanks.’
Laurie smiled and drove off with a wave.
Watching her, Hannah realized that if Will had actually left her, he’d still be close to Laurie the rest of his life. Laurie would always be family.
But not her.
Hannah went inside with a stab of pain at the thought of losing him.
She looked around. The hall was clean and tidy, ready for a family that was only going to exist if she made it happen.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Laurie texted Hannah later that evening, to say she’d sent Will Daniel’s number and told him to ring her. But Will didn’t call Hannah that Saturday, or on the Sunday.
On Monday morning she was starting to despair.
Trying to stay positive, she rang the phone company and managed to get a rescheduled appointment tomorrow for the landline engineer.
As she put the phone down she saw Gemma waving on the driveway, and heard a letter fall on the mat.
She ran down, desperate for news. The name of Barbara’s office was stamped on the front.
Hannah ripped it open:
Dear Will and Hannah,
Lovely to see you in Suffolk, and congratulations again on your new home. Just to let you know that X’s social workers are very interested in meeting you. They’ve suggested this Friday, for a home visit. Please let me know if you can do it (I texted you, Hannah – not sure if you’ve received it?). I double-checked, and I was right: there is no other family involved.
Best wishes,
Barbara
Hannah read it again, a smile breaking through the misery of what was happening. If the little girl’s social workers liked them, it could happen quickly. A matching panel, then two weeks at the child’s foster home to acclimatize them all to each other, before bringing her back home.
They were so close. This was news that Will should be sharing.
She lifted Daniel’s phone and tried Will again, knowing he’d come home when he heard this.
‘Will, it’s me. Barbara has been in touch. I have amazing news. Please ring me back on Daniel’s phone.’
She sat on the hall stairs, holding the phone, willing it to ring.
She waited twenty minutes, then tried again.
‘Will, please, this is stupid. How many times can I keep saying it: it didn’t happen? You need to ring me and sort this out, or we’re going to lose her.’
When he didn’t reply, she texted Laurie and asked her for another number. There was only one more place to try.
The number arrived a minute later, and she walked down to the lane for a better signal. She knew it was a fifty–fifty chance it would be answered.
‘Hello,’ said a quiet, sad voice.
‘Hi, Rita, it’s Hannah.’
‘Hi, love.’ Will’s mum always sounded as if she were stuck behind a high wall, unable to burst through.
‘I was just looking for Will. He’s not there, is he?’
‘No, love. He rang me Saturday, to make sure my shopping got delivered. I thought he was with you, at the new house.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I must have got mixed up. He had loads of work to do, so he’ll probably be at the studio.’
The Hidden Girl Page 24