by Jenny Harper
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I don’t like Stephen Cousins. His mother’s an aggressive hippie, if you can visualise the type. I imagine she frightened off the father because there isn’t one in evidence. She smokes pot too, I’m sure of it, and I think Stephen has soaked up a lot of her attitude.’
‘Well I bribed the three of the them to go off to the movies in Edinburgh,’ Andrew said cheerfully. ‘So we’ll have to see if he gets back in one piece, eh?’
‘It’s just that—’
‘Not like you to worry over Ninian.’
She frowned. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing. Relax. Just go and change, they’ll be here in half an hour. Here—’ He opened the fridge and poured her a small glass of white wine, then kissed her forehead. ‘Leave me to finish in the kitchen, okay?’
‘Okay. Thanks, Andrew.’
Kate carried the wine upstairs and peered into her wardrobe. What was the correct attire for film directors? She selected a cream-to-navy dip-dye Coast dress and added navy heels. As she leaned towards the mirror to apply the smokey grey eye shadow she favoured for evenings, her mobile rang.
It was Lisa Tranter, sounding panicky.
‘What is it, Lisa?’
‘I was just having my supper when – oh God, I hope nothing’s happened.’
‘Lisa, calm down,’ Kate abandoned her mascara, stood up and switched into work mode. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘Remember I was telling you about that bird surveyor, Geoff Harkins?’
‘Yes.’
‘His wife just called me. He hasn’t come home.’
‘Didn’t he check in with you when he left?’
She heard Lisa gulp. ‘I forgot about him, Kate. I’m sorry.’ She sounded on the verge of tears.
‘Have you tried his mobile?’
‘Of course, but I think he switches it off when he’s watching the birds.’
Kate reviewed all the possibilities in her head. The Summerfield site only stretched to a few square kilometers, but some of the terrain was quite inhospitable – bog and heather, areas of scrub and woodland and rocks. Besides, there was a long walk up to the site itself from the road. If he hadn’t driven up, if he’d tried to take a shortcut through the woods, he could be anywhere in quite a wide area. Had he fallen? Been taken ill?
‘Was he wearing a high-visibility jacket?’
‘I don’t know, sorry. I did issue one, but he made his own way up and I suspect he likes to camouflage himself so he doesn’t scare the birds off.’
‘Did he have GPS equipment?’ Satellite positioning equipment would make finding him – in theory at least – much easier.
‘Again, I did issue it, but to be honest, Kate, he seemed a bit unsure of the technology. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t switch it on.’
‘We need to find him, Lisa. Have you put any action in place?’
‘No, I called you as soon as I heard.’
Kate’s brain was racing. Locating Geoff Harkins had to be a top priority – but the Bertolinis would be here at any moment and Andrew was relying on her. ‘Right. Lisa, here’s what I want you to do. Call Ricky and Evan and any other team members you can get hold of. See how many can turn out. Get them to meet you at the site in half an hour. And call me back as soon as you can to let me know what’s happening.’
‘Aren’t you coming?’
Kate slapped her hand against her chiffon-clad hip in frustration. Any other night, any other time at all, and she’d be there in an instant. ‘I don’t think I can, Lisa. I’ll call Jack, though, and he’ll take over.’
‘Right then.’ The girl sounded relieved, making Kate all the more exasperated. A chance like this was all Jack needed to make some kind of point that she was not up to the job.
‘Just get started, Lisa. We’ll talk in a few minutes, okay?’
Damn, and double damn! She’d have to tell Andrew. Even if she could get the team organised, there were going to be calls interrupting their evening. Any other day—
‘Did I hear you talking?’ Andrew was pouring mint sauce into a dish. ‘Everything’s pretty much ready now.’ He glanced up. ‘You look gorgeous.’
She stood in the doorway, chewing her lip with anxiety. Something about her stillness must have caught his attention because he looked back at her and stopped pouring. ‘What is it?’
‘Someone’s gone missing at the site. A bird surveyor.’
‘Missing? How?’
She explained. ‘The thing is, Andrew, I need to get a search organised.’
‘Oh no. Not you, Kate. Not tonight. Surely someone else can do it? Other people do work at AeGen, I take it?’
Kate gulped. This was hard. ‘Yes. I’m going to phone Jack Bailey.’
Andrew screwed the lid back on the jar of mint sauce and turned away. ‘Better get on with it then. They’ll be here in a minute.’
It was infuriating, but it had to be done. Kate retreated to Andrew’s den and dialled Jack’s number. His phone went straight onto voice mail. Shit! What was she going to do? She paused, thought quickly, called Lisa. ‘How’s it going? Who have you managed to contact?’
‘Not great, Kate. I’ve got three so far, but the others aren’t answering their phones.’
‘I’ve tried Jack. He’s not answering either.’
‘Jack plays five-a-side on Mondays.’
‘What? You didn’t say earlier.’
‘I’ve just remembered.’
‘Je-sus, Lisa!’
‘Sorry.’
Kate went quiet. She was in an impossible situation. She couldn’t leave Lisa and the others on her team unsupervised, not in these circumstances. It was too important. Potentially, there was a man’s life at stake – and even in the case of a bad injury, the repercussions if they didn’t do this right were serious in the extreme. There was only one other person she could possibly ask to head up the search and that was Mark Matthews, but asking your boss to do your job so that you could enjoy a cosy dinner at home was unthinkable. There was no choice.
‘Carry on phoning, Lisa. Get as many people as you can. And head to the site yourself. I’ll see you there in twenty minutes.’
Andrew had changed and looked remarkably at ease – considering how important this evening was to him – in a black open-necked shirt. He was wearing the silver cuff links she’d given him last Christmas, a closed book on one cuff, an open book on the other. Guilt engulfed her and she grimaced.
He guessed at once. ‘No, Kate. You can’t do this to me.’
Outside, she heard a car on the gravel. ‘There’s no time,’ she said quietly, ‘to tell you how sorry I am.’
The hooded eyes closed almost to slits and his lips tightened, sure signs of just how angry he was.
The doorbell rang.
‘I can stay for five minutes to explain. There’s a man’s life at stake, Andrew.’
His mouth clamped shut and his jaw jutted ominously. He went into the hall to answer the door. ‘Andreas!’ he greeted his guests smoothly, all signs of anger concealed, ‘How wonderful you could make it. And Signora Bertolini, welcome to Willow Corner.’
Kate moved forward, her dip-dyed dress skimming her neat waist and hips, the image of the perfect hostess. In three minutes she would have to go and change into jeans and stout shoes and head for the site. She smiled in welcome, but inside she had never felt so miserable – or so guilty – in her life.
Chapter Twelve
The team – or, at least, the members Kate had been able to muster – met at the gate onto Summerfield Law, donned high-visibility gear and marched off as a phalanx. It was fortunate that it was summer –searching in the dark would have been a nightmare.
‘We’ll spread out, ten feet apart. Call if you see anything, a bit of equipment, any clothing, even so much as a breadcrumb. Okay?’
There was plenty of warmth still in the sun. Kate, head down, searching the rough grassland for clues, thought only of roast lamb and of Andr
ew’s anger. After twenty minutes they had seen nothing.
‘Stop,’ Kate ordered. They clustered round her, wanting leadership. Lisa looked white with anxiety. ‘We’ve got to be cleverer about this. We’re just walking randomly. Where might he have gone? Where might he settle comfortably for a period, so that he could watch for birds? That’s one way we can tackle this. Alternatively, where are the potential hazards up here? Rocks he might have stumbled over, worst part for rabbit holes, gullies?’
‘Top end, the ground’s really uneven, but there’s some shelter at the edge of the wood,’ volunteered Evan, a stout, bright young engineer.
‘That’s where I’d go,’ agreed another young member of the team. ‘Prop my back up against a tree, fantastic views, bit of shelter.’
‘Right. Let’s start up there, then, and work our way down. You want to lead, Evan?’
It was a good piece of thinking. They found Geoff Harkins a few minutes later, crumpled awkwardly in a small gully.
‘I feel so stupid,’ he panted. His face, drained of blood, was almost the colour of his silvery hair. ‘I stumbled and hit my head, passed out. And my ankle’s really painful.’
‘I don’t think we should move him, Kate,’ Evan said quietly. ‘There may be injuries we can’t see.’
‘You’re right. We’ll call the paramedics.’
‘I didn’t have the wretched GPS thingy on,’ Geoff apologised feebly. ‘Sorry. Such a nuisance. Couldn’t remember how to work the damn thing. Sorry. Sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise, Geoff.’ Kate squatted next to him in the gully. She took his hand and was rewarded with an appreciative squeeze. ‘We’ve found you now. Everything’s going to be fine.’
They had to summon a helicopter, because access across the rough land would have been impossible for any vehicle. Once the development started, Kate thought, things would change. Ibsen had certainly been right about that.
The helicopter arrived within minutes.
‘I feel dreadful,’ Lisa muttered as the paramedics checked Geoff over. ‘It’s my fault.’
Kate couldn’t help heaving a sigh. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘perhaps you should have been more insistent that he follow our procedures, but I can see the difficulty. I’m just nervous about press reaction.’
‘Will it be bad?’ Lisa looked panic-stricken.
‘Who knows? They’ll seize on anything.’
‘My own stupid fault,’ Geoff said, over and over again as he was strapped onto a stretcher. ‘Lisa did show me how to work this GPS thing but I did something wrong, and my mobile phone was out of juice. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. Honestly, I’m so grateful, I can’t say thank you enough to everyone.’
It was clear that the press would get nothing out of him but praise. With luck it would be a small paragraph on an inside page, no more.
It took almost four hours to assemble the team, search for Geoff, locate him, call the paramedics, and get back to the office to do the necessary paperwork. When Kate finally did get back to Willow Corner around eleven thirty, the Bertolinis had already left and Andrew had retreated to bed, leaving a shambles behind him to make a point. Kate tore off pieces of cold, leftover lamb and stuffed them into her mouth gracelessly. Who cared? She was ravenous and the meat was delicious. She scraped a spoonful of gratin dauphinoise potatoes out of the baking dish and consumed it with gusto.
Andrew’s wrath – or media excoriation and vilification at the office? Fifteen years ago, would she have weighed out the choices in this way, counterbalanced the evils in the scales to see which side fell more heavily? What had happened to instinct? What had happened to love? Back then, would she have been so much in thrall to her job that she’d have put Andrew’s needs below the demands of corporate reputation? As the adrenalin subsided, to be replaced by bone weariness, Kate began to see how much her life had shifted.
It’s the price you have to pay for a career. Any man would have made the choice I made tonight.
But she couldn’t put another thought to the side: Andrew needed me and I let him down.
Ninian arrived home around midnight, on his own. Kate was relieved, because it was not unknown for one or more of Ninian’s friends to stay late, bang around the kitchen in the small hours, and crash out on his floor until mid morning.
‘Hi Ninian, good film?’
‘Okay,’ he grunted in his increasingly monosyllabic fashion. ‘Anything to eat?’
He pulled out all the food Kate had just packed into the fridge and started to guzzle. She was about to suggest a fork and knife, then she remembered her own predatory attack on the meat and held her peace.
‘Great nosh. How did the dinner go?’
‘I don’t know, I wasn’t there,’ she confessed wearily.
The weirdness of this statement penetrated even Ninian’s brain and his hand stopped half way to his mouth, a sizeable slab of lamb dangling from it. ‘How come?’
‘I was called out to an emergency.’ The tensions of the evening had drained her utterly and now all she wanted to do was go to bed.
‘Christ, Dad must’ve been livid.’
‘Yes. I suspect he was.’
‘Haven’t you seen him?’
‘No. He’d gone to bed before I got back.’
‘Wouldn’t like to be in your shoes.’
‘I guess not. I’m going to bed, Ninian. Will you please put anything you don’t eat back in the fridge?’
‘Sure.’
‘Night.’ She looked at him wistfully, wanting a hug but unsure whether to reach out or not.
Well into the leftover potato, Ninian was oblivious. ‘Night, Mum. Good luck in the morning.’
It gave her enough strength to smile at him. ‘I have a feeling I’m going to need it.’
In the morning, though, Andrew was asleep – or feigning sleep, she wasn’t entirely sure which – depriving her, either way, of the chance to find out how things had gone. And later, when she arrived home from work, Andrew pointedly put on his jacket and headed straight for the door.
‘Meeting,’ he said briefly, without bothering to explain further.
Kate was still desperately tired. Sleep hadn’t come easily last night and she’d gone to work early to mop up the last of the spillage from the Geoff Harkins episode. Her first inclination was to press him, but the pettiness of his punishment infuriated her. In her own mind, she had already tested her decision-making process and found it to be sound. She’d had no choice, so how dare he be so censorious? With an effort, she smothered her anger and let it pass. ‘How did it go last night?’
Andrew picked up his car keys from the hall table. ‘As if you care.’
If he’d slapped her in the face she couldn’t be more shocked. ‘Andrew! Of course I care!’
He turned back, a hard glint in the hooded eyes. ‘If you’d cared, Kate, you would have stayed.’
‘You know that was impossible. I tried everything. There was no-one else to take charge. I had to go.’
‘You had to stay, but you didn’t.’
‘That’s so unfair! It was—’
‘It just shows, doesn’t it, where I stand in your hierarchy of importance. I should have known. Work always comes first with you, doesn’t it?’
‘If I could have found someone else to—’
‘And what about Ninian? How do you think the boy feels about his summer holiday being cancelled? Being shunted off to his grandma’s?’
Kate blinked. She was unprepared for this onslaught and too tired to deal with it sensibly. ‘But I ... we—’
‘I’m going out. I have a meeting, and I’m late.’
‘Don’t run away from me. We should talk.’
The door slammed behind him and she was left in a void.
Ninian was nowhere in evidence. Kate had no appetite and no concentration. Nothing she did or said to Andrew seemed fit to rescue a deteriorating situation. What the hell was happening? They’d had their spats in the past – what marriage never had those? – b
ut they’d always been able to discuss them, then laugh about them, then put them aside. This time, she could not get Andrew to talk.
The thought of dealing with the stack of papers in her briefcase awaiting her attention was dismal. Willow Corner – her pride, her joy, her home – felt empty. She meandered through the rooms. Each held memories, each had seen laughter and love. In the living room she touched the ornate clock Andrew had insisted on buying in an antiques shop years ago. Ninian had been three, Andrew still a teacher, her salary was modest and money was tight. There’d been something about the clock’s age and style, though, that he had loved and she’d given in. Back then, she’d deferred to his wishes and been able to laugh, despite the folly of it.
On the small coffee table, a netsuke mouse, beady eyes staring out of sweetly carved ivory, reminded her of a time before they were even married. She’d been out at a special Engineering Department lecture with Mike, leaving Andrew and Charlotte together for the evening. Things with Val had been at their most difficult and she remembered being torn between going to the dinner and staying behind to support Andrew. And yet, the next day, it was Andrew who had presented her with this delightful (and probably stupidly expensive) gift.
In the dining room, Ninian’s childhood library still nestled among the Dickens, Austen and reference books on medieval history. Her baby, now all but grown up. Kate picked out one battered book. Where The Wild Things Are. It had been thumbed almost to destruction – but how often had she sat with him and read this book? Andrew had been the reader. Andrew had introduced him to words and pictures, dreams and nightmares. A monster stared at her from a crumpled page, toothy and grinning and not really fierce. Had Ninian been frightened, or thrilled? Had Andrew had to comfort him, or had they laughed together?
She had found child-rearing a distraction. Now, she realised, time had sped past her and she would never again be able to share precious, wild moments with her son.
At the door of Andrew’s study, she heard the telephone ring. She stepped in and picked it up.
‘Willow Corner, hello?’
There was silence.
Kate was in no mood for patience. ‘Look, I’ve had enough of this! What you’re doing is harassment. AeGen knows all about your moronic attempts at intimidation. If you do this one more time, I’ll report you to the police. Now—’