Schoolgirl Missing

by Sue Fortin

  Careful to put only half the amount Lee recommended for an adult, into Poppy’s drink, Neve gave the hot chocolate a stir and squirted liberal amounts of cream in a swirly pattern so it rose like a Mr Whippy ice-cream. She dropped a couple of mini marshmallows on top and scattered a few more on the saucer around the glass mug.

  ‘Tah-dah!’ said Neve, triumphantly as, with great care, she took the creation over to Poppy and placed it on the side. ‘Be careful, it’s quite hot. You may want to let it cool down.’

  ‘Wow! Look at that,’ said Kit. ‘Almost makes me want to have one myself. Almost. How about another glass of wine?’

  ‘Coming right up,’ said Neve, forming a wide smile. She poured Kit’s glass first, anxious not to get the two muddled up. Making sure Kit and Poppy were preoccupied with the hot chocolate, Neve tipped several drops of the clear, odourless liquid into the glass of wine. She picked up the glass and gave it a swill round, before taking it over to Kit.

  ‘You not having one?’ he asked.

  ‘Just going to pour one now,’ she said, hoping Kit missed the wobble in her voice. She poured a large glass and sat down with Kit. ‘Cheers,’ she said, holding the glass up towards him.

  ‘Cheers,’ said Kit, touching his glass against Neve’s. He took a big gulp, while Neve sipped at hers and then he leant over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Coming today. I know the boat isn’t your favourite pastime, but I appreciate the gesture.’

  Neve’s heart gave such a heavy beat at her betrayal, she thought Kit might hear it. ‘I wanted to,’ she said. At least that much was true.

  ‘Does this wine taste all right to you?’ Kit asked, swilling the glass round and lifting it to his nose to smell the aroma.

  Neve hesitated for a moment. Lee told her that there may be a slightly salty taste but taken in alcohol Kit shouldn’t be able to notice it. Neve took a sip of her drink. ‘Mine tastes fine. Maybe it’s the crackers and salmon that’s made it taste funny.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe,’ said Kit, taking another gulp and then making clicking noises as his tongue sucked the roof of his mouth. He shrugged. ‘Can’t taste it now.’

  ‘Maybe something was on the glass. Do you want me to pour you a fresh one?’

  ‘No. It’s fine.’ Kit reached forwards and took another cracker. ‘This is really nice,’ he said. ‘I love being here with my two favourite people in the whole world.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Neve.

  Kit gave her a sideways look. ‘You mean that?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  He caressed her face with the back of his fingers and looked like he was going to say something, but he appeared to change his mind. He smiled and returned to his salmon and crackers.

  The minutes crept by and Neve kept a careful yet, clandestine, eye on Kit. He was letting the newspaper slip from his lap and resting his head back.

  ‘I feel quite tired,’ he said, rubbing his eyes with the finger and thumb of one hand. He took his hand away and was visibly trying to focus on his surroundings.

  ‘Are you OK?’ asked Neve.

  Kit rolled his head in her direction. His pupils had dilated and filled more space than the blue irises. ‘I’m … I’m great,’ he said, slurring his words.

  Neve knew she didn’t have much time before the full effect of the drug kicked in. She took the glass from him and placed it on the side along with her own. She glanced over at Poppy who was taking her first sip of hot chocolate.

  ‘You’re drunk,’ Poppy said to her father.

  ‘I am not,’ slurred Kit, as Neve managed to get him to his feet.

  ‘That’s it, put your arm around my shoulder,’ she said, wedging herself underneath his armpit. She managed to get him to stagger towards the fore of the boat where their cabin was located. As they reached the doorway, Kit lurched to one side and on his second attempt grabbed the door frame.

  Poppy let out a howl of laughter. ‘You are drunk!’ she said, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘I’ve never seen you like this before.’

  Kit swayed from one side to the other, his eyes unfocused, his mouth opened but no words came out. Neve thought he was going to collapse there and then on the floor. With a Herculean effort, she dragged Kit forwards. His feet responded, and he stumbled in to the cabin just in time before he collapsed on to the bed, taking Neve with him.

  ‘Kit! You’re on my arm,’ she groaned. Somehow, she managed to push him onto his side and pull her arm free. She got to her knees and, leaning over his shoulder, Neve lifted one of his eyelids. Kit’s eyes were rolled back and he was fast asleep. Or, more precisely, heavily sedated.

  Neve felt a deep sense of shame wash over her. She had really done that. For the first time, she felt an association with her actions. She couldn’t pass it off as something Megan would have thought, said and/or done. No, she, Neve Masters, had to take full responsibility.

  If Kit were ever to find out, he would never forgive her. He mustn’t ever find out. She looked back at her bag and for the second time, she took the mobile phone from her bag. This time she sent a text message.

  I need to see you. Just one last time. Meet me at the usual place. Tomorrow. Ten o’clock. It’s important.

  She studied the message for a moment and, deciding it wasn’t strong enough, amended the last sentence before pressing send.

  There’s something I need to tell you face to face – it’s really important and I don’t want to say it over the phone.

  She didn’t know if Lee would come or even respond for that matter. They had, after all, agreed to only get in touch in an emergency and, in Neve’s mind, this was an emergency.

  After putting the mobile back in her bag, Neve tried once more to settle, but her nerves felt like they were going through a paper shredder and her mind just couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened on the boat. It was as if she was seeing it for the first time and the realisation was dawning on her. She tried to comfort herself with the thought that the end result would be worth it. Kit had agreed to them starting a family of their own. A baby to love and to care for was all she had ever wanted.

  Her thoughts took a natural turn to her daughter who she’d so very nearly had before fate had taken her away. So precious. So beautiful. So tragic. It was a loss like no other. It was in a different league altogether. She felt a moment of guilt for not grieving for Jake how she probably should, but pushed it away into its metaphorical box and closed the lid. Another compartment she didn’t want to revisit. Another compartment marked ‘Pain’.

  And as she did so, she remembered the bloody shirt she’d found in Kit’s office. She hardly dared to think the next thought – the one that had lurked in the darkest recess of her mind. If only that was as easy to pop in a box. That box however would be marked ‘Danger’.

  It was all getting to her. She wished Kit would come home soon. How long did it take to walk the dog? Neve prowled around the house, unable to settle in any room.

  Inevitably, her thoughts turned to Jake. She was still in shock about his death. How could it be that she was talking to him at the hospital one day and then a few days later he was dead? It seemed impossible and yet she knew it was real.

  She knew she couldn’t let the day end without having said a personal goodbye to him. She looked out of the living room window. It was a beautiful sunny morning, one which Jake would have enthused about and, had it been an art day, he would have encouraged the students to paint outdoors.

  Taking a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer, Neve stepped out into the garden. The lavender which ran along the rear fencing was beautiful with its deep violet shades. She thought Jake would approve of that. She remembered a painting he had shown her when she had first started going to art therapy. It was of a sheaf of violets, laying in a wicker basket. He said it was given to him by his first art therapy student who had gone on to art college at the ripe old age of sixty-three having suffered i
n silence for years after being abused as a child. Up until that point, the student had rebelled against any kind of education because of the memories associated with it. Jake said it was one of his proudest moments as an art therapist.

  Neve walked to the back of the garden and began cutting the lavender. Once she had a respectful number of stems, she cut some garden string and tied the stems together in a simple bouquet. As an afterthought, she took three of her paintbrushes from her bag and slipped them in behind the string. It seemed a fitting gesture which tugged at her heart.

  ‘Oh, Jake,’ she whispered. ‘I wish it could have ended differently. You didn’t deserve to die like that.’

  She folded up the cloth roll in which she kept her paintbrushes and placed them into the main bag, before going back out to the garage to store them away. She wasn’t sure if she would ever want to paint again. The thought was just too painful right now.

  Collecting the flowers from the worktop, Neve climbed into her car and drove off to Jake’s art studio. She was relieved that no one was about as she pulled up on the grass. Several bunches of flowers had already been placed against the gatepost.

  Kneeling down, Neve carefully laid the flowers next to the others. She took a few minutes to read the messages that had been left.

  May you rest in peace, Jake.

  You will be missed by us all.

  From all your colleagues at the college

  Heaven has another star tonight.

  Your light will always shine bright.

  From all the staff at St Joseph’s

  Such a gentle man.

  Taken too soon.

  Julie, Mike, Dan and Kelly-Ann xxx

  Always in our hearts.

  RIP Jake.

  Maggy and the gang.

  You taught me how to live again

  and I will always be thankful.

  God Bless. Arthur.

  Aware of another car making its way up the lane, Neve went back to her own. She didn’t want to have to talk to anyone who might have known Jake and been coming to lay flowers.

  Chapter 38

  Kit didn’t give himself time to think about what he was doing. If he was going to save Neve, save his marriage, and by default save his daughter the pain of losing another mother, then he had to act fast.

  His heart was thumping hard in his chest. He swore he could hear it. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. It filled the interior of the car, bouncing and echoing around the confined space. His hands were shaking and he gripped the steering wheel to try to steady his nerves. Breathing in through his nose, holding for the count of three and then releasing slow and controlled, Kit began to regain his composure.

  He looked in the rear-view mirror. Not at the space behind him, but at the man looking back. He looked deep into the blue eyes. It was as if he could see right into his own soul and did he like what he saw? No, he didn’t.

  Kit shook his head to rid himself of the dark thoughts crashing around in his mind.

  Putting the car into gear, he headed back towards Ambleton. The roads were clear and within fifty minutes he was driving over Bury Hill and turning off the roundabout towards the village. About one hundred metres along Kit pulled into a lay-by which overlooked the valley in which the village was nestled. All he had to do now was to cross the field and take the public footpath down towards the river. No one really walked this side of the bridge and once he was there, he could cut down through the meadow and into Copperthorne Lane without being seen. Even if he did bump into someone, with Willow tagging along, they would just assume he was dog walking.

  ‘Come on, girl,’ said Kit, opening the tailgate and letting the yellow Labrador jump out. He hooked up the lead and trotted across the road with her, following the edge of the farmer’s field down towards the bridge.

  As it happened, luck was on his side and he made it to Copperthorne Lane without meeting anyone. Kit let Willow off the lead. She ran along, her tail wagging and her nose to the ground, luxuriating in the smells all around, making snorting noises every so often.

  Several bouquets of flowers had been laid at the gate to Jake’s studio. Kit paused to read some of the cards. Jake had certainly been a popular guy with the locals and Kit couldn’t help feeling a small surge of jealousy run through him. Yeah, Jake might have been a stand-up guy where the art therapy classes were concerned, but he certainly didn’t embrace that ethos with other men’s wives.

  Something made Kit look at the card on the last bunch of flowers – lavender. Maybe it was the handwriting that had attracted him. He looked closer and read the message his wife had left.

  Heaven is a much more colourful place now.

  RIP.N. x

  Neve must have been down here today while Kit was off in Brighton.

  Kit’s hand curled around the card, scrunching it up. He looked down at the crumpled message. He hadn’t even realised what he was doing.

  Shit. That would look bad now to anyone coming along. He plucked the card from the neck of the wrapping paper and tore it into four pieces and then pushed it into the pocket of his jeans. He’d get rid of that later.

  He called Willow over and attaching the lead once more, he took her round to the back of the studio where she’d be out of sight and tied her to the fence.

  He hoped Jake hadn’t got around to fixing the rear window. Preparing for his break-in, Kit wriggled his hands into his black leather driving gloves and if what he was about to do wasn’t so serious, then he would have laughed at the clichéd burglar’s attire. He took the penknife from his pocket and jemmied it between the window and the frame, then slid it along until he felt the resistance of the sticky tape. The blade cut through the tape with ease and the window swung open.

  Kit hoisted himself up and after a bit of effort, managed to climb in through the window, knocking a couple of paint pots and brushes onto the floor as he did so. He collected them up and placed them back on to the work surface.

  The silence in the studio was stifling. It was hard to tell if the police had already carried out a search of the premises as everywhere looked untidy. The office housed a small desk butted up to the side wall, on which there was an open hardback A4 diary sitting next to a laptop, while an array of pens, pencils, chalks and charcoals scattered the desk. Several black A4 books were stacked on one of the corners, which Kit assumed were sketch books. Next to them were an assortment of reference books and on the left-hand side of the desk was a cordless telephone, sitting in its base unit and a small spiral notebook.

  Kit looked at the jottings in the notebook. Names and numbers, paint colours and doodles.

  Kit tried the drawers. They were unlocked and contained more or less a replica of what was on top of the desk, notebooks, sketchbooks, brushes, pens, all jumbled up in no particular order

  Kit took a moment to look at the desk, deciding where would be the best place to leave the items he’d brought with him. It was then he noticed a thin drawer which ran under the desk top. Not a hidden drawer but one that ordinarily might be for pens and pencils. He pulled the drawer open and indeed there were a couple of pencils, a rubber and a few coins.

  Perfect.

  From his pocket, Kit withdrew the photograph of his daughter and laid it inside the drawer.

  This was all going to be over soon. And then they could get back to some sort of normal life. A life where he still had his wife, he still had his daughter and his daughter still had a mother. He’d come close to losing both and he knew he couldn’t let that happen again. Nothing else mattered to Kit and he was going to protect his family by any means he could.

  Chapter 39

  Still not wanting to go home to an empty house, Neve drove back into the village, stopping outside the café.

  ‘Well, hello,’ said Lucie as Neve bustled in through the door. ‘I was just thinking about closing up.’

  ‘Hi,’ said Neve, glancing round the empty coffee shop. ‘Sorry, I was just passing, and I thought … No, that’s a lie.’ She looked at her friend.
‘I was at home feeling shit and needed a friendly face.’

  ‘Aha, I see,’ said Lucie, with a smile. ‘You sit yourself down there and I’ll make us both a coffee but first …’ She trailed over to the door, switched the sign to ‘CLOSED’ and drew the lock across. ‘There, that’s better.’

  Neve sat in silence as Lucie made the coffees and came to sit beside her friend.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Neve. ‘Sorry, busting in here, I expect you’re dying to put your feet up.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Lucie. ‘Anyway, I am putting my feet up.’ She pulled out the chair beside her and swung her feet onto the seat. ‘So, what’s up? Kit?’

  ‘No, nothing like that,’ said Neve. ‘I went to see my brother.’

  ‘Your brother? The one in Wales?’

  ‘Yep, that one. It’s the only one I’ve got,’ said Neve, twiddling the spoon around in her cappuccino.

  ‘Oh, right, how did that come about?’

  ‘I guess all this business with Poppy and Jake made me realise that life is too short to hold a grudge.’

  ‘Good for you,’ said Lucie. ‘How did it go. Was your brother of the same persuasion?’

  ‘In the end,’ said Neve. ‘It was his wife, my sister-in-law, who took some convincing, but I think it’s all good.’

  ‘Excellent. So why the worry?’

  ‘I don’t know, just feels odd, I suppose. Fear of the unknown and all that.’

  Lucie placed her hand on Neve’s forearm. ‘I’m sure it will be OK. Be brave.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Neve, genuinely grateful for her friend’s kindness.

  ‘Where’s Kit, then?’ asked Lucie. ‘Shouldn’t he be giving you the pep talk, not that I mind you coming here at all but, you know what I mean.’

  ‘He’s out at the moment. I think I just felt a bit emotional,’ confessed Neve. ‘Poppy’s at her nan’s. I think I suddenly felt alone – lonely.’