Stolen

by Susan Lewis

  ‘He wrapped Mum in a great big duvet and carried her through the flames,’ Hanna went on. ‘If he hadn’t done that she’d probably have died, or been all charred up.’

  ‘Such a delightful image,’ Lucy muttered.

  Looking at Lucy, Sarah said, ‘How old were you when it happened?’

  ‘She was eighteen months,’ Daphne replied.

  ‘And you don’t remember anything about it?’ Sarah asked.

  Lucy shook her head. ‘Not really,’ she answered truthfully, though she felt sure that the woman who screamed in her nightmares was a part of the memory that she had so effectively suppressed. However, it wasn’t a subject for now, especially as Hanna had more news which was making her wail with misery.

  ‘Lucas is only going to Spain with his family for the rest of the month,’ she told Lucy, ‘and he’s bound to meet someone while he’s there and forget about me.’

  ‘No, he won’t,’ Juliette protested loyally.

  ‘Believe me, my darling,’ Lucy said, pressing a kiss to Hanna’s hair, ‘no one could ever forget about you, because you never give us the chance.’

  ‘Meet my mother the comedian,’ Hanna said to her friends.

  Lucy was about to reply when she spotted her own mother moving to sit in the shade. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked softly, going to join her. ‘Would you rather go upstairs and lie down?’

  ‘No, no, I’ll be fine,’ Daphne assured her. ‘It was just getting a little hot standing there in the sun. No need to worry. No, no. No need to worry about anything.’

  Chapter Eleven

  NOW THAT THE auction was drawing ever closer, life was becoming more hectic by the day. A veritable mountain of new lots was piling up in the barn and around the courtyard like a troupe of eager debutantes, all waiting to be properly admired and displayed, while calls were coming in all the time requesting home visits to assess the value of some neglected old heirloom, or in some cases entire contents of a house or shop. With Sarah in charge of entering each item’s list price, ownership and lot number on to the computer, Maureen (who’d yet to speak a civil word to the new recruit) was making it her business to oversee all valuations and descriptions, ready for the website and catalogue. Lucy, when not dealing with advertising, client networking and scheduling, was beetling around the countryside in her old Peugeot picking up smaller pieces from those who had no transport, or itemising the contents of an attic or cellar ready for Godfrey and his assistant, Carl, to collect and Maureen to assess.

  It was while she was over at Waterley Bottom, peeling her way through the cobwebs of an old man’s cluttered garage, that Michael dropped into the office with the forms for her to sign. Though she was sorry to have missed him, she couldn’t help feeling relieved too, since an embarrassing infatuation with her lawyer was something she really didn’t need right now. What would have been far more useful was several more hours in the day and less of a guilty conscience about Joe, who’d come again last weekend, but had ended up spending most of it down at the pub while she worked. Hanna, on the other hand, was, amazingly, morphing into a little angel, helping out where she could, often ably assisted by her co-angel Juliette, and had loudly joined in with Lucy to insist that her grandparents should postpone their departure for Exmoor until Daphne had the results of the blood tests Lucy had persuaded her to have done.

  So now, with her second full week at the helm under way, Lucy could proudly claim that everything, for the moment at least, was going to schedule and the sale itself was showing signs of being the biggest Cromstone had held that year. Though the prospect of such a large affair was undeniably daunting, the mere thought of rising to the challenge was enough to kick-start her adrenalin and not even Maureen’s petty attempts at sabotage, which fortunately never quite came off, were managing to bring her back to earth. There were a few occasions, however, when Daphne, clearly troubled by Maureen’s umbrage, felt it her duty to step in and try to smooth the woman’s ruffled feathers, which Lucy was quite happy for her to do, since she had no intention whatsoever of pandering to Maureen’s ego herself. If anything, she felt more inclined to tell the sour old bat that if she didn’t start getting over herself soon and dealing with the new reality, then she might want to think about taking her huffing and puffing, tutting and muttering to another environment. It was only knowing how much it would upset her mother if she did that stopped her – plus the fact that it would be a hell of a bad time to lose such a crucial member of the team.

  It was on the Thursday morning of that second week that Daphne’s doctor rang with the news that her tests had shown nothing sinister at all. In fact, he declared, she was in remarkably good health for a woman her age.

  ‘So you see,’ Daphne told Lucy, who’d joined her in the kitchen for elevenses, ‘there’s absolutely nothing to worry about. It was just a bug, like I said, and I’m completely over it now.’

  Since her mother’s face had regained none of its usual colour, and she still, in spite of her words, seemed anxious about something, Lucy said, ‘Then it’s either the tension between me and Maureen that’s getting to you, or it’s Dad. I told you how he put the tea bags in the kettle this morning …’

  ‘Yes, you did, so you don’t have to tell me again.’

  ‘You know he’s worried about you too, and no matter what the doctor says I’m sure he’s going to insist that you get some rest.’

  ‘I have no doubt you’re right since the pair of you are obviously in cahoots, so you’ll be pleased to hear that we’re going to leave for Exmoor on Saturday.’

  Experiencing a jolt of anxiety at the sudden prospect of finding herself alone, Lucy quickly pushed it aside. She could and would cope without her mother’s support, and the sooner she started the sooner everyone, particularly Maureen, would have to accept that she was in charge. ‘Have you told Dad you’re ready to go?’ she asked.

  Daphne passed her a cup of tea. ‘No, but I will when he gets back from Stroud. By the way, he took the forms with him to give to Michael, so everything’s in your name now, including the house.’

  Lucy’s disappointment at missing an opportunity to see Michael was quickly eclipsed by the exhilaration of becoming the owner of so much, when she’d never actually owned anything before. ‘I know I’ve asked you this a hundred times already,’ she said, ‘but are you absolutely sure? I mean, I’d be just as happy to run things with you still …’

  ‘Lucy, I’m more sure now than I ever was,’ her mother interrupted. ‘Seeing how committed you are and knowing what a great success you’re going to make of it pleases me more than I can put into words.’ Her eyes went down as she took a sip of her tea. ‘There’ll be problems along the way, of course,’ she said, her gaze starting to drift almost as though she was foreseeing them, ‘but I have great faith in you. I know you’ll be able to cope, and with Sarah on board now …’ Her voice faltered slightly, but she cleared her throat and continued. ‘She’s a dear girl, and it’s wonderful to see how well you two are hitting it off. It’s … Well, it seems very fitting. Very timely, I suppose. Just please don’t forget how hard Maureen has worked for me, and please bear in mind that she has feelings like anyone else.’

  ‘I promise to do my best,’ Lucy replied, turning at the sound of footsteps running across the courtyard.

  ‘Daphs, thank goodness, there you are,’ Maureen gasped. ‘I’m sorry, my old love, but I have to go. Godfrey’s only gone and done his flipping ankle in, jumping out of the lorry.’

  ‘Oh my goodness, where is he?’ Daphne cried, starting forward. ‘Is there something we can do?’

  ‘He’s not here, he’s in Tormartin somewhere. Or he was, the paramedics are taking him to the Royal United in Bath. They reckon it might be broken.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Daphne murmured, clearly quite distressed. ‘I’m so sorry. You must go, of course.’

  ‘I’ll give you a call as soon as there’s some news,’ Maureen told her, and without as much as a glance in Lucy’s direction she hurried o
ff again.

  Lucy was watching her mother as she turned around, already knowing what she was going to say. ‘No, Mum,’ she told her gently, ‘this doesn’t mean you should stay. You can’t drive the lorry, nor can Dad …’

  ‘But I can help to fill in for Maureen …’

  ‘You might not need to yet. Let’s wait and see what she says when she calls.’

  By the end of the day the worst was confirmed – Godfrey had not only broken his ankle, but two bones in his foot, and was going to be laid up for several months. Though Lucy wouldn’t have wished the injury on anyone, not even him, she couldn’t help feeling pleased to be rid of his lecherous looks and gruesome innuendoes, at least for a while. However, losing him as a driver at such a critical time was as devastating a blow as realising that Maureen was probably going to need time off to care for him. But she’d only just started to panic when the fates apparently decided to return to her side, because within minutes of learning about the disaster John Mckenzie was on the phone offering his services as driver, removal man, storekeeper and any other role she’d like him to play. Philippa too, he told her, was keen to help out. She was a wizard with figures, a champion organiser and could probably turn her hand to just about anything they cared to throw her way.

  Fired by their enthusiasm Lucy didn’t even hesitate, thinking what a treat it would be to work with them instead of the Crumptons. However, to her dismay, her mother was less than thrilled.

  ‘Lucy, I really don’t think we can put them to all that trouble,’ she protested. ‘It’s not as if they have any experience …’

  ‘Maybe not with auctions, but remember they ran their own business for years. In fact, if you think about it, they could be absolutely what we need.’

  ‘But they’re not young, dear, and with her being ill I really don’t think we should impose.’

  ‘What do you mean, ill? What’s wrong with her?’

  ‘She’s had a nasty run-in with cancer. It’s how she lost her eye.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Lucy broke in, aghast. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘She told me herself when I went to look at the Mercers’ furniture.’

  ‘But she’s OK now, isn’t she? She doesn’t look ill, apart from the patch.’

  ‘Apparently she’s in remission, but it could come back at any time, so you must understand that John has a lot on his plate taking care of her.’

  ‘Except they’re offering to help, and if he’s not worried about her doing it I don’t see why we should be.’

  Daphne turned around to busy herself at the sink. ‘OK, you’re probably right,’ she said shortly. ‘Yes, I’m sure you are.’

  Belatedly realising what must have been going through her mind, Lucy gave a groan of guilt as she said, ‘Oh Mum, am I making you feel shut out? You want to stay, don’t you?’

  ‘No,’ Daphne answered, shaking her head. ‘No, Dad and I will press on with our plans. If you need us we won’t be far away.’

  Going to stand behind her, Lucy wrapped her in a tender embrace. ‘I wish this had happened after you’d gone,’ she said, ‘you wouldn’t feel so bad about leaving me then, but I can cope, Mum. I promise.’

  ‘I’m sure you can.’ Wringing out a sponge, Daphne started to wipe down the worktops. ‘When is Sarah’s brother due to arrive?’ she asked, changing the subject. ‘Didn’t she say it was at the weekend? It’ll be nice for you to meet … Yes, well, it’ll be nice.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it,’ Lucy told her. Then, turning her around, ‘Mum, what is it? I can tell you’re holding something back, so …’

  Daphne pulled herself free. ‘Please don’t try to force me to say things I’d rather keep to myself,’ she snapped. ‘Now, Dad’ll be back from his bowls any minute so we ought to start thinking about what we’re going to eat. And where’s Hanna? I haven’t seen her all morning.’

  Accepting that she probably wasn’t going to get any further right now, Lucy said, ‘She and Juliette went off with the Mckenzies to help them choose a new puppy, so I expect she’s still with them if they managed to find one. Otherwise, they’ll probably be Facebooking on Juliette’s computer down at the pub. I’ll send her a text to find out if she’s going to eat with us. It might be a good idea to find out what she’s doing tonight at the same time.’

  Daphne looked startled. ‘Why, is something special happening?’ she asked.

  ‘I told you earlier,’ Lucy said gently, ‘Sarah and I are going to the Mckenzies for drinks this evening. They invited us a few days ago, but with everything that’s happened today it’ll be a good opportunity to have a chat about how they can help.’

  Daphne nodded, and seemed to start searching for something to do. ‘I’d better peel some potatoes,’ she decided, opening up a cupboard to take out a saucepan. ‘Sausage and mash. Dad always likes that. Yes, that’s what we’ll have, sausage and mash.’

  ‘Honestly, there are times,’ Lucy was saying to Sarah as they strolled down to the Mckenzies later, ‘when I could happily strangle her, especially when she’s acting all weird and secretive the way she is now.’

  Sarah’s tone was ironic as she said, ‘If you want weird and secretive you should meet my mother. She’s been holding something back from us for years, and we all know it, we’re just never allowed to discuss it.’

  Waving out to Milly, who was packing up her Quirky Shoppe, Lucy said, ‘But you must have some idea what it is.’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘I’ve hazarded a thousand guesses, but even if any of them are right I still don’t know which one it is.’

  ‘What about Simon and Becky?’

  ‘When we were younger Simon used to taunt us with the fact that he knew something we didn’t, but Becky was always convinced he only said it to make himself seem important. I’m inclined to agree, because in later years he’s claimed to be as much in the dark as we are.’

  Lucy was thinking of all the rooms at the manor and the items Sarah had put up for sale and wondering which, if any, might have witnessed murder; or a nervous breakdown; an agonised decision to have an abortion; a rape … She didn’t offer any suggestions, of course, it wasn’t her place to do so, and besides she strongly doubted that she could come up with anything that Sarah hadn’t already considered herself.

  ‘So here we are,’ she declared, as they came to a stop at a solid oak gate that was set deeply into an ivy-clad wall. ‘Are you sure they said just to go in?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Sarah replied, and twisting the handle she gave the gate a push.

  ‘Oh, isn’t it heavenly?’ Lucy murmured as they stepped into a sanctuary of roses, hydrangeas, fuchsias and some magnificently tall gladioli. ‘The Mercers will be pleased to know that their prized garden is being so well taken care of.’

  ‘Ah, here you are,’ Philippa called out, waving to them from across a freshly mown lawn. ‘Come in, come in. I’m so glad you could make it. John’s preparing us some sangria. I hope you like it.’

  ‘Sounds bliss,’ Sarah swooned.

  ‘This garden is nothing short of idyllic,’ Lucy commented, her eyes sweeping around a cluster of lobelia-covered rocks that tumbled into a small goldfish pond with an ornate footbridge across it.

  ‘Yes, we like it very much,’ Philippa replied. ‘It’s brave of the Mercers to trust us with it, but I hope they won’t be disappointed.’

  ‘Excellent, you’re here already,’ John declared as he came out of the house with a tray of glasses. ‘Sangria’s on its way, and something for us all to munch on. Make yourselves at home. How lovely it is to have visitors, eh Pippa? You’re our first, for cocktails anyway, so maybe we should have cracked open the champagne.’

  ‘Sangria’s perfect,’ Lucy assured him. ‘We’ve brought truffles for you to share, so I …’

  ‘Oh my goodness, I shall have to be stepping up my sessions on the Wii Fit now,’ Philippa laughed. ‘I’m really not terribly good you know – apparently I have the fitness level of an eighty-six-year-old – how sho
cking, and most depressing. John is faring much better, I’m glad to say, but he’s still a little overweight for a man his age.’

  ‘Och, telling all my secrets,’ he chided. ‘Now, are you ladies ready to meet the latest member of our family? I’m afraid her manners are still a work in progress, because she’s very excitable, but I hope you’ll agree that Hanna made a marvellous choice.’

  ‘You let her actually choose the dog?’ Lucy cried. ‘That girl is so bossy.’

  ‘Let’s just say it was love at first sight all round.’

  ‘She’s an adorable little beast,’ Philippa assured them as John went back inside. ‘Heaven only knows what breed she is, or what the mix is made up of, I should say, but who cares? We already love her to bits and I think Hanna was quite right in her choice of name …’

  ‘She chose the name too! What a pain she must have been …’

  ‘No, not at all. We loved her being there, and Juliette, of course. Such delightful girls.’

  ‘So what is she called?’ Sarah wanted to know.

  ‘Ladies!’ John cried through the open kitchen window. ‘Get ready to meet Rosalind Ophelia Mckenzie.’ A moment later the door opened and a supercharged sandy-coloured mutt with huge brown eyes and a hyper-hover tail leapt on to the terrace, tugging John carelessly behind her.

  ‘Oh, she’s so cute,’ Sarah gushed, as she and Lucy stooped to greet her. ‘I want you.’

  ‘You’re welcome to join the ranks of honorary godmothers and visit any time,’ Philippa told her.

  ‘Count me in,’ Lucy laughed, as her face was ferociously licked. ‘Are you really calling her … What was it again?’

  ‘Rosalind Ophelia,’ John beamed.

  ‘How the heck did she come up with that?’

  ‘I believe Shakespeare had a hand in it,’ he responded, ‘and we’re going to call her Rozzie for short, but she’s such a special little creature that we thought she should have a lovely grand name. Now, perhaps you can hold her lead, Pippa, while I go back for the canapés.’

  Thrilled – and amazed – to think that Hanna had gone for something classical rather than some ghastly fusion of Kylie and Brittany, or Mystic Falls and Hollyoaks, Lucy could only feel pleased by the influence that other great Shakespearean heroine, Juliette, was apparently having on her.