Summer's Awakening

by Anne Weale

  Hurst said, 'Mrs Perez, how did Emily look before she went out? Did she seem her usual self?'

  The cook-housekeeper nodded. 'Yes. I ask about her trip. She say she had very nice holiday with Mrs Rathbone. I ask her why she going out. She say to buy tape of some music she hear on her trip and like very much. I tell her tonight for dessert I make pineapple mousse especially for her. She say, "Oh, you very kind, Victoria". Then she go out.' Tears filled her dark brown eyes and she fumbled for a handkerchief.

  'Thank you, Mrs Perez. That's all for the moment.' Hurst indicated to José that he should take his wife away.

  When they had gone he turned to Summer. 'Tell me what happened between Emily's return to the apartment and the time you went out, Miss Roberts? Did you go to the airport to meet her?'

  'Yes, I did. It was the first time she'd been away on her own. Coming back from the airport she told me what she'd been doing and the people she'd met. Then when we got back to the apartment I helped her unpack. She was wearing a blue Madras shirt with Ralph Lauren's logo, a polo player, machine-embroidered on the cuff, and a navy skirt and navy leather loafers. I haven't been to her bedroom to look, but probably she's still wearing those clothes. Would you like me to check?'

  'If you would, please.'

  When she returned to the study a few minutes later she said, 'As far as I can see there's nothing missing except the clothes she was wearing when I left her. Oh, and her shoulder-bag.'

  Hurst asked her to describe the bag and Emily's raincoat, making notes as she did so.

  'You left the apartment before she did. Where were you going, Miss Roberts?'

  'I had a date to have tea at the Plaza.'

  'Did Emily mention that she planned to go shopping later on?'

  'No, she didn't.'

  'Did she tell you about this music which she mentioned later to Mrs Perez?'

  She shook her head. 'Before I went out I had to tell her something which came as rather a shock to her. But whether it has any bearing on her disappearance, I don't know.'

  'What did you tell her.'

  'That I was leaving.' She flashed a troubled glance at James, wondering now he would react when Hurst started probing for the reason for her quitting her post with such suddenness.

  'Emily's known for some time,' she went on, 'that when she didn't need me any more I was going to give up teaching and concentrate on designing. While she was away I decided to change careers sooner... in fact right away.'

  It was Morton Eliott who said, 'You announced this change of plan and then left her alone to digest it? If, as you tell us, you and Emily have grown very close, wouldn't it have been wiser and kinder to break the news later in the day... after dinner maybe?'

  His tone and the way he looked at her gave Summer an insight into how it must feel to be on the witness stand facing cross-examination. She didn't try to refute the censure implicit in his question.

  'Yes... it would,' she admitted. 'But I wasn't coming back for dinner. I—I wasn't coming back at all. Mr Gardiner and I had had a major disagreement and I had resigned my job here.'

  The lawyer gave an exclamation. 'This explains the girl's disappearance,' he said, as if resting his case.

  'Does it? I wouldn't be too sure of that, Morton,' was James's curt comment.

  'It would seem a highly probable explanation, Mr Gardiner,' said John Hurst. 'A serious dispute in the home is often the reason for teenagers running away. If you and Miss Roberts have been Emily's surrogate parents, the news that Miss Roberts was leaving must have been a great shock to your niece.'

  'Naturally. I accept that,' James agreed, with a snap in his voice. 'But I know my niece better than you do. She's not a hysterical type. She's unusually intelligent and rational, and she would realise that running away wouldn't solve anything. Would you agree with that, Summer?'

  She nodded. 'It was because I believed in her levelheadedness that I felt it was all right to leave her on her own until her uncle came home,' she told the two other men. 'But since he called me to say she was missing, I've been wondering if I was wrong to rely on her acting sensibly. Yet I'm sure if she had run away, she would have contacted us by now. However hurt and upset she was, she would never put us through this agony of uncertainty...' Her voice cracked. She felt her lips tremble and put her hand up to hide them.

  For some moments nobody spoke. Then Morton Eliott said thoughtfully, 'Unless it occurred to Emily that worrying about her might bring about a reconciliation between the two of you.'

  Above the hand masking her mouth, Summer's anxious eyes widened. Could Emily have conceived such a plan?

  She said, 'But where would she go? Where would she spend the night? Nobody who knows her uncle would agree to put her up without informing him. No responsible person would be party to letting her hide with them.'

  'There are plenty of hotels where she could stay,' the lawyer replied.

  'A young girl of her age... with no luggage?' she said doubtfully.

  'If she paid for the room in advance, there are places where they wouldn't ask questions.'

  'I don't think she'd know how to find that kind of hotel. I shouldn't myself,' she pointed out. She turned to James. 'Do you think what Mr Eliott suggests is a possibility?'

  His long fingers were drumming a devil's tattoo on the dark red leather of the desk top. It was unlike him to fidget.

  'Anything is possible, but—'

  He was interrupted by the telephone. For an instant all four of them froze.

  As she watched him lift the receiver Summer sent up a prayer that he wouldn't hear a voice saying We have your niece, Mr Gardiner or, worse, Emily pleading for help.

  'Gardiner speaking.' His face was grim but his voice was normal.

  'For you, Hurst.' He handed over the receiver.

  Almost sick with relief, she relaxed, but only for a moment. Who knew what bad news was being imparted to John Hurst?

  All the horrific details she had ever read about crime in this city came flooding from the recesses of her memory. Up to now she had felt that the media exaggerated the dangers. With its broad avenues, towering buildings and acres of Central Park greenery, Manhattan had always seemed a friendly, exciting place to live. But then neither she nor Emily had ever had to use the squalid subway or pass through the seedier neighbourhoods.Supposing Emily had asked a cab driver to take her to a cheap hotel and—

  Hurst stopped listening and said, 'Thanks, George. Yes, do that, would you? G'bye.' He replaced the receiver. That was the result of a more exhaustive check on admissions. Negative. Wherever Emily is, she's not in hospital. The question now is whether to put out a general alert for your niece. But if we do that, some reporter is sure to get hold of it and, if Morton's theory is correct, you're going to incur a lot of unwanted publicity.'

  James looked at his attorney. 'What's your advice?'

  The lawyer rubbed the bridge of his nose and pondered his reply for some moments. Then he said firmly, 'In your place I would sit this out overnight. My hunch is that Emily will reappear early tomorrow. This is not a young child who's missing, or even an early teenager. From what you say about her, your niece is a young adult. We've eliminated the most obvious cause for alarm—a street accident. Had she disappeared on her way to or from a class, or any other activity which she attended regularly, then I'd be more concerned that she might be being held under duress. A kidnapping is a premeditated crime. When Emily left this afternoon she wasn't following a pattern which someone could have watched and noted. She hadn't planned to go out. It was a sudden decision.'

  James turned to Summer. 'What do you think?'

  'I think Mr Eliott may be right. I hope so... oh, God, I hope so!' she added fervently.

  He ceased the restless tattoo and swung his chair to face the window, his profile a study in concentration.

  She watched him making up his mind and she felt deeply stirred by her love for him.

  James swung back to face them. 'I agree with your reasoning, Morton.
We'll give it twelve hours. If she hasn't shown up by then we'll call in the police.'

  In the early hours of the morning, Summer roused from a restless doze to find that James had covered her with a blanket.

  She was lying on one of the sofas in the living room, having refused to go to bed. He had wanted her to take a sleeping pill, but she had been determined to share his vigil.

  Now, as she opened her eyes, she saw that he was no longer attempting to concentrate on the papers which he had been studying when drowsiness overcame her. He was stretched on the opposite sofa, his shoes off, his tie discarded, his folded arms rising and falling in rhythm with his deep, even breathing.

  She had never seen him asleep before. Stealthily, afraid of waking him, she put off the blanket and sat up.

  He was lying with his face turned towards her, its stern lines relaxed. But his jaw hadn't slackened, and his lips remained firmly compressed. He was sleeping as lightly as she had slept. The least sound or movement might rouse him and cut short her study of him.

  She gazed at him for a long time. She wished she could kneel down beside him and lay her cheek upon his and feel his strong arms slip round her. It seemed incredible now that he had once asked her to marry him and she had refused; that the night before this he had wanted to make love to her and she had seized the chance to escape. What a fool and a coward she had been. Afraid to take any chances. Wanting the moon on a platter instead of being ready to settle for whatever he could give her, as she would now, if either opportunity recurred.

  But opportunities never came twice.

  His eyelids flickered and opened. For three or four seconds their eyes met. Then, as instantly alert as if he had never been asleep, he swung himself into a sitting position.

  'What's the matter, Summer?'

  'Nothing. I just woke up. I didn't mean to disturb you.'

  He looked at his watch. 'Four forty-six. Would you like some more coffee? Tea?'

  She shook her head. 'No, but if you would I'll be happy to make some.'

  He pulled on his shoes and stood up. 'Maybe I'll have some fruit juice.' He bent to pick up the tray from their last snack which they had had at two that morning.

  They had been awake most of the night, sometimes talking, sometimes wearily silent as the slow hours of waiting dragged on.

  She followed him to the kitchen. While she added the used cups and saucers to those already in the dish-washer, he opened the refrigerator and surveyed its contents before selecting a can of tomato juice.

  'Maybe I'll join you,' she said, opening a cupboard full of glasses.

  It wasn't that she fancied a tomato juice. But drinking it was something to do... a way to release some of the tension. Some people chain-smoked. Some people chewed their nails. She and James drank coffee... and more coffee... and now, for a change, tomato juice.

  'I wonder if Emily is sleeping?' she said, in a low voice, as he poured out the juice.

  'Like a log, I shouldn't be surprised. The young do, no matter what happens.'

  'Did you sleep the night you left home?'

  'I guess so. I can't remember. It was a long time ago. Where's the Worcester sauce kept?'

  Had he really forgotten, she wondered, as she found the sauce for him. She hadn't forgotten the night after her parents' sailing accident.

  The long night wore on.

  The next time she woke from a doze the sky was beginning to lighten. James was standing by the window, watching the dawn break. At first he was only a dark silhouette. Gradually, as night dissolved into day, his tall frame took shape and form.

  Even if he had managed to nap again, he must be exhausted, she thought. The ordeal of waiting must be even worse for him than for her because it had been his decision not to notify the police immediately. The fact that three other people had seconded that decision wouldn't help if it turned out to have been the wrong one. He would feel the misjudgment was his alone, and he wasn't the kind of man who could forgive himself for a mistake... certainly not one involving the safety of someone dear to him. Emily was the only family he had... the only person he loved.

  He turned. Seeing that she was awake, he said, 'I'm going to take a shower and change my clothes. I suggest you do the same. Then we'll have an early breakfast.'

  Her bathroom was as she had left it, suggesting that James hadn't informed Victoria that she had gone and wouldn't be back. Yet he must have accepted her decision because he hadn't got in touch with her until Emily's disappearance had forced his hand.

  Her toilet bag was at the Barbizon, but the bathroom cupboard contained a spare toothbrush which she hadn't packed and sachets of shampoo and body lotions which she had collected on their travels. Her hair-dryer was at the hotel, but Emily had one she could borrow.

  Emily... Emily... where are you? Summer thought, standing under a hot shower and shivering with fatigue and dread that today might bring back that terrible pain and desolation she had been through before when they told her her parents were dead.

  Fortunately, the clothes she had worn the day before had survived the night without looking too scruffy. She could have borrowed one of Emily's shirts, but somehow she shrank from doing so.

  When she returned to the living room José was there, laying the table at which she and Emily often ate when there were only the two of them in the apartment. While she was talking to him James reappeared. Now the early sun was gilding the tops of the highest buildings and she could see how haggard he looked, his lean, angular face seeming even more rawboned than usual, with bruise-dark shadows under his eyes.

  When José left them, he said, 'I think you should call the Barbizon in case there've been any calls for you.'

  'But nobody knows I am staying there except you and Emily.'

  'Precisely. Emily might call you. I'll look up the number.'

  When the hotel operator answered, Summer said, 'Good morning. This is Miss Roberts. I checked in yesterday but an emergency came up and I left the hotel last evening and haven't been back. If anyone calls me, would you tell them where I can be reached, please? It's very important.'

  Before she could give the number of the apartment, the operator said, 'What is your room number here, Miss Roberts?'

  'Oh, God... I don't remember. Wait a moment. I have the room key. I was in too much of a hurry to leave it at the desk.' As she spoke, Summer signed to James that the key was in her bag.

  He was quick to find it and hand it to her. When she had given the number, the operator said, 'There's already been one female caller for you. I remember it because we don't have many incoming calls that early, and also we couldn't reach you.'

  'Did the caller leave a name?'

  'No, no name and no message.'

  'It was definitely a girl? You're sure?'

  'Yes, I remember her accent. I think she was British.'

  Summer gave a gasp of relief. 'If she calls again, would you tell her I in at home now... permanently. She'll know the number. Thank you. Goodbye.' She replaced the receiver and turned to him. 'A girl with a British accent called me. It has to be Emily. Oh, James—'

  She wanted to fling her arms round him and weep on his shoulder. But instead she collapsed in the chair beside the telephone, covering her eyes with her fingers, holding her emotions in check.

  There was a pause before he said, 'She must have called you to see if her strategy had worked. If you weren't there, she'd guess it bad. I'd better have a word with Morton.'

  His cool reaction amazed her. She could have sworn he had spent the night racked with anxiety. Yet now, speaking to his lawyer, he sounded calm and unemotional.

  Seconds after he finished the call the door opened and his niece walked in. She must have entered the apartment by using her key rather than ringing for José to admit her.

  'Emily!' Summer sprang up, intending to rush across the room and embrace her.

  But James grabbed her and kept her beside him, his hard fingers painfully tight on her soft upper arm.

  'You'
re just in time for breakfast,' he said mildly. 'But perhaps you've already had it?'

  Emily shook her head. She came forward, moving rather gingerly, obviously uncertain of her reception.

  'I—I in sorry if you've been worried.'

  'Wasn't that the object of the exercise?'

  'I had to do something, James. I couldn't let you and Summer—'

  Her explanation was cut off as he let go of Summer and transferred his grip to his niece, seizing her by both shoulders and towering over her, rage erupting from him like lava from a volcano.

  'Worried! I'll say we've been worried. We've spent the whole bloody night thinking the next time we saw you would be on a slab in a mortuary. Don't you know what can happen to girls alone in this city? Don't you read the papers? Have you any idea what it's like to spend a night waiting to hear that someone's been mugged, raped or murdered?'

  He began to shake her so violently that her neck seemed in danger of snapping and Summer sprang to the rescue.

  'James... for God's sake... stop it! You'll hurt her,' she protested, grabbing his arm.

  He ignored her, roaring at Emily like a man demented. The savagery of his anger was terrifying.

  And then, quite suddenly, while the girl's head jerked back and forth and Summer clung to his arm, shouting, 'Stop it... stop it,' he stopped.

  All at once the wild rage evaporated. Ceasing the brutal shaking, he pulled Emily into his arms and held her close. Whereupon she began to cry and Summer let go of his arm and fell back and stood watching them hug each other, her own eyes brimming.

  Before noon she recovered her belongings from the Barbizon. After lunch she caught up on some lost sleep. They all did.

  Half an hour before dinner James called her into his study. He came to the point with his customary directness.

  'I don't want you to come back under pressure of emotional blackmail. Emily won't repeat last night's folly.'

  'I acted equally foolishly. I realise that now that I've had time to think things over.'

  He said stiffly, 'You have my assurance that the... circumstances which upset you won't happen again.'

  She said nothing. What could she say?