by Kathy Shuker
‘Do you remember the photograph?’ prompted Jo.
‘No.’ Eleanor shook her head, looking anguished. ‘No. I don’t remember anything about it.’
‘Never mind. It’ll come back when it’s ready. Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll walk up with you.’ Jo stood up but her legs still wobbled and she sat down again.
‘No, let me walk with you,’ said Mari, coming over.
Eleanor reluctantly gave in and went with Mari out into the hall. Jo waited until she heard Eleanor and Mari on the stairs, then glanced between Matthew and Imogen.
‘How do we know Frank has disappeared?’
‘Louisa told me,’ said Imogen. ‘She said she hadn’t seen him since before the concert. They’d had an argument and she’d left and gone up to the pub. He’d been behaving oddly for days, she said, ever since Eleanor left hospital. She blamed Eleanor of course. Said she knew Frank had never got over her and that Eleanor encouraged him. His things have gone from the apartment apparently.’
‘I wonder where he’s gone,’ said Jo wearily. ‘The police officer’s coming to speak to Eleanor tomorrow.’ She looked at the clock. ‘Today, that is.’
‘You need to get some sleep,’ said Matthew. ‘Will you be all right here?’
‘We’ll stay with them,’ said Imogen. ‘I know Mari would want to anyway. If that’s all right, Jo?’
‘Of course. You can have one of the spare rooms. Thank you.’ She frowned. ‘Does Lawrence know about all this?’
‘He did appear earlier,’ said Imogen, ‘but when the news came through that you were all right, he just wandered off again.’ She paused and pulled a face. ‘That man spends too much time alone if you ask me.’
Chapter 25
Vincent and Louisa both left quietly, saying nothing to anyone. On the Monday, Mari and Imogen departed too, claiming commitments they had to get back to. Jo thanked them for their help. Still apprehensive about Frank, she was both sorry and yet relieved to see them go. She and Eleanor needed to get back onto an even keel; they needed to establish a routine of some kind and find normality if they could. It felt a little unreal, waiting for news of Frank. This was the sort of thing you read about in newspapers or saw on television reports. It didn’t happen in your own life, in sleepy seaside villages.
Eleanor appeared to have taken a step backwards. The events surrounding the festival and Jo’s ordeal had played heavily on her, as had the revelations about Frank. And the interview with the policeman only upset her further. She couldn’t answer several of his questions and got frustrated both with him and with herself. The police officer did bring news however. One of Frank’s neighbours in London was a shift-worker and, when questioned, had reported seeing him leaving his flat very early on the morning after the concert. He was carrying a suitcase and looking purposeful the neighbour said. It seemed the police had missed him by a half hour at most.
Eleanor received the information with a blank expression. Over the next days she rested too much, appearing disinterested and unwilling to engage in any activity that was suggested. Lawrence was solicitous and offered chess; she refused. Jo wanted to take her out for a drive and maybe a meal; she wouldn’t go. And she wouldn’t talk about Frank at all despite Jo’s occasional gentle prompting. She had closed in on herself, like an injured animal does, retreating to a safe place to lick its wounds. Unsure what to do for the best, Jo cautiously offered to take her to see the doctor. Her aunt rallied sufficiently to tell her in no uncertain terms what she thought of the idea. Jo didn’t pursue it.
On the Friday morning they were both in the sitting room when Jo received a call from the police. She glanced at the phone screen and immediately stood up and walked to the patio doors with her back to her aunt. The officer had news of Frank. He had been picked up at the ferry terminal in Holyhead with a ticket for Ireland in his pocket and was in the process of being transferred for questioning. It was good news but when the call ended Jo paused, still facing the patio doors, unsure if she should tell Eleanor. It might just upset her more. There was no escaping it however because Eleanor had been listening intently to Jo’s half of the conversation.
‘Who was that?’ she demanded as soon as Jo turned round. ‘You said it was good. You were relieved. Why?’
‘It was the police.’ Jo hesitated. ‘They’ve found Frank. He was about to get a ferry to Ireland. He’s being questioned.’
Eleanor’s face puckered. ‘Ireland?’ She seemed to mouth something else to herself then shook her head and looked away.
Charlotte chose that moment to bustle into the room. She had been in overdrive these last days, cooking, cleaning, fussing in and out, and yet she had been either strangely silent or painfully polite. It was unnatural and felt dangerous. She was like a pressure cooker waiting to blow. She stopped short now, standing legs apart, arms crossed, and glared at Eleanor.
‘Here again. Sitting on your backside. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d feel sorry for yourself woman. It’s pitiful.’
‘I do not feel sorry for myself,’ retorted Eleanor. ‘Mind your own business.’
‘It is my business. Having you draped round the house, in my way... And then there’s poor Jo trying her hardest to help you out and you virtually ignoring her like you’re too good for us all. You’re damned ungrateful, that’s all I can say. If that’s not feeling sorry for yourself, I don’t know what is.’
‘Well I’m not.’ Eleanor turned back to Jo. ‘She’s wrong, Jo. And I’m not ungrateful either. Not at all.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m just… I don’t know what I am. I’m so muddled and confused. I can’t seem to… I’m sorry. I am.’
‘Being sorry’s all well and good,’ said Charlotte, ‘but it’s not the same as doing something about it. You should get up off that backside of yours and do something to help yourself.’
Charlotte raised her eyebrows meaningfully, glanced at Jo, then left the room. There was a long, strained silence.
‘I can’t believe Frank has done these things,’ Eleanor said in a small voice, staring at the fireplace. ‘The row with Hugh, hitting him… And chasing you like that, frightening you.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s not the Frank I know. Or thought I knew. I mean we argued. All the time, I know that. But I never felt scared of him. I can remember us throwing things at each other. I think I hurt him more than he ever hurt me.’
‘He was desperate. And we don’t know how Hugh behaved or what might have provoked him.’
‘And then the police officer was asking me if Frank had pushed me off the cliff.’ Again, Eleanor shook her head, chin jutting mulishly. ‘He wouldn’t do that.’
‘Maybe you were arguing.’
‘I can’t remember.’
‘Give it time.’
‘I’m not sure I want to remember.’ Eleanor looked at Jo, eyes taut with pain. ‘I loved Frank so much, I can’t tell you. It died a little. In the end it was easier not living with him. But even so…’
Silence stretched between them again.
‘So…’ said Jo, ‘why don’t we go out for coffee? I could drive us down to the car park and we could walk from there. What do you think?’
Eleanor hesitated for a long minute, then nodded.
‘All right.’ She almost smiled - for the first time that week. ‘You just want to see Matthew.’
‘The thought had crossed my mind.’
‘So why haven’t you been before, you silly girl?’ She pulled a face. ‘I suppose it’s my fault; you didn’t want to leave me alone. But I’m fine. You go. You don’t want me along anyway.’
‘Yes I do. I don’t want to sit and drink coffee alone. Stop arguing. Come on, let’s go out.’
*
Matthew booked a table for seven o’clock on the Saturday night at the new Italian restaurant. It stood on the edge of town and, according to Harry, already had a reputation for making ‘the best pizzas ever’. Given that the meal was a small - and belated - celebration of Ha
rry’s birthday, the choice had been his. Matthew had rung Jo on the Monday, checking how she was, asking after Eleanor and any developments. He had also invited her to join them but she had prevaricated, saying she didn’t want to leave Eleanor alone at the moment. And he believed her, mostly. After all that she and Eleanor had been through, it was understandable. But still he couldn’t help wondering if she was using Eleanor as an excuse. Maybe she simply didn’t want to bother with him again and, after the way he had behaved, he couldn’t blame her. One phone call to the coastguard didn’t wipe the slate clean.
But then Jo had turned up at the café on the Friday with Eleanor. It was the first time he’d seen her since that awful night and she looked all right: the cuts and bruises were slowly healing and she looked happy. In fact, she fairly exuded a light-hearted energy he wasn’t sure he had seen in her before. Apparently Frank had been picked up and was being held for questioning. Seizing an opportunity away from Eleanor’s keen hearing, she confided that the police said Frank would be certain to face charges, the severity of which were still to be determined. It was obvious that a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. On the spur of the moment, he asked her out again.
‘Harry would love you to be there.’ He smiled apologetically. ‘And I would too.’
‘Carpe diem,’ Sophie used to say. She had been big into not letting opportunities pass. He hoped she would approve of what he was doing; he thought she would have liked Jo.
And this time Jo said yes.
The summer was at an end and Harry was back at school. The atmosphere had lightened considerably between father and son. While they were waiting for Jo to be rescued, Matthew persuaded Harry to tell him about the night on the beach when he’d heard Eleanor arguing. It had been a painful revelation to find out just how much his son had been bottling up inside, worse still to know that he hadn’t even trusted his father to take his side. Matthew apologised, chastened, and Harry did too, admitting to doing ‘a lot of stuff you don’t like, partly just because you don’t like it.’
He had managed to convince Harry to go with him to the police and explain what he knew but the boy was still adamant that he didn’t see Eleanor fall. By the time it happened he’d already set off towards the headland, he said, frightened.
‘Would you recognise the voice?’ the police officer asked him.
‘I’m not sure. Voices sound different from below. They’re distorted. I think it was this Frank guy but I couldn’t honestly swear to it, you know, on a Bible or whatever. I’m sorry.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Matthew said, before the policeman could comment. ‘You tell it like it was. That’s all anyone can ask.’
Now Matthew and Harry were sitting at the table in the restaurant, reading the menu over and over, glancing round, both trying not to look at the empty chair. Matthew had offered to pick Jo up on the way but on the last minute she had rung to say that she would make her own way there.
‘She’ll come,’ Matthew said eventually. ‘She’d have rung again if she wasn’t coming.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We got here early. It’s only just ten past.’
Then he saw Jo at the top of the room, a waitress at her shoulder pointing out the table and she was hurrying over to them, looking flustered. He could feel the smile spreading across his face.
‘I’m so sorry I’m late.’ She threw herself down in the vacant seat. ‘I was waiting for a phone call and it came through later than expected. Have you ordered?’
‘No. We were still deciding.’
‘I’ve decided.’ Harry tossed the menu aside and sat back, looking smug. ‘Pepperoni with extra cheese.’
‘Pizza, I assume?’ said Jo.
‘What else?’
She grinned and picked up the menu.
‘I’ll get you a drink,’ said Matthew, half rising.
‘It’s OK. The waitress is bringing me one.’
He sat down again. He was trying too hard.
The waitress reappeared with Jo’s glass of soda and lime and took their food order. After a couple of minutes of awkward silence, Matthew prompted Harry to talk about a show they were putting on at school in which he had some backstage involvement. Then Matthew talked about the café and how Eddie’s girlfriend was moving away, how Eddie had decided to go too and that he would be hard to replace.
The food came and they fell silent again.
‘It was good to see Eleanor out and about,’ Matthew ventured a few minutes later. ‘Is there any more news? What happens next?’
‘It’s still up in the air. That was the call I was waiting for. I rang to find out what was happening and they were late ringing back and I didn’t want to get it here…you know… Anyway, it seems Frank has admitted to the Hugh Shrigley death. He didn’t have any choice, presented with the recording but he still insists it was an accident. And he says he never saw Eleanor that Friday night.’
She paused and took a drink.
‘They’re still questioning him so how it’ll all play out, I’ve no idea. The police are very close about it. They say they’ve got “a number of avenues to investigate” but they’re hoping to have him remanded in custody while they “pursue their lines of inquiry”, whatever they are. Apparently the fact that he was caught trying to leave the country will work against him. That makes him a flight risk.’
‘Will I have to give evidence?’ said Harry.
‘I don’t know. These things take ages to get to court anyway. We’ll have to wait and see. If Eleanor doesn’t remember what happened, I guess it will be hard to prove that he had anything to do with her fall.’ She shook her head and shrugged. ‘There’s no sign of her remembering at the moment.’
They finished eating and the plates were cleared away. They ordered dessert.
Matthew fixed Jo with a look. ‘Did you bring it?’
‘Yes.’ She pulled her handbag round from the back of the seat, took a pouch from it and handed it to Harry. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to get anything for your birthday, but…what I’m saying is that this isn’t a present exactly. It’s your old phone. I had that friend I mentioned look at it. I’m afraid she couldn’t get it to work again but she did manage to get the photos off it. They’re on a memory stick in there.’
‘What? That’s awesome. I didn’t know you’d got this.’ He pulled impatiently at the pouch and found the memory drive, holding it as if it were made of precious metal. ‘Wow. Thanks Jo. You’re really cool.’
She grinned. ‘Am I? I’ve never been called cool before.’
‘We’d better make some copies of those photos,’ said Matthew, ‘just to be on the safe side.’
Harry looked at his father in surprise, then nodded, pressing his lips together hard and looking away again. A minute later, he excused himself to go to the washroom.
‘It looks like you and Harry have made up,’ said Jo.
‘Oh, you know, we’re getting there. It could take a while.’
‘Still, I’m glad.’
‘I should thank you for it.’
‘Nonsense. You’d have got there eventually.’ She fingered her glass. ‘I’m afraid I was just interfering. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my business.’
‘No, it was. Someone needed to kick some sense into me.’ He hesitated and smiled. ‘I’m glad it was you.’
She flicked him a quick look but said nothing. He wished he knew what she was thinking, how far he dare push this.
‘What are your plans now?’ he asked warily.
‘Short term: Eleanor is keen for me to stay on a while.’
‘And will you?’
‘Yes. I can work here just the same and I want to make sure she’s all right.’
‘And long term?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’m prepared to wait and see how things work out.’ She took another sip of soda. ‘What about you? What are your plans?’
‘Not sure really. A few months ago, I was ready to pack
it all up and leave but I think maybe things are settling down now. Harry’s happier and I like it here. Though I’m not sure I’m cut out to run the café forever. If it weren’t for Gail and Eddie I’d have been lost. I’ve been thinking about setting up my own website building business… Maybe.’
He paused and glanced in the direction of the washrooms. There was still no sign of Harry.
‘But I’m glad you’re staying. I’d like…well…’ He leaned forward onto the table, steeling himself to look her directly in the eyes. ‘Look Jo, I know I’m not the easiest person in the world at the moment but I am working on it. And Harry and I have been talking. We’re making a few changes. What I’m saying is, can I ring you? Could we do this again, and maybe without Harry too?’
‘Well…’ She hesitated, then slowly grinned. ‘Do you know, I’d like that. I was hoping you’d ask.’
He sat back heavily in the chair. ‘Well hell, woman, you could have said something, or at least given me a clue. Whatever happened to female empowerment?’
She was laughing when the waitress brought the desserts, just as Harry returned to the table. His dessert was a huge plate of chocolate fudge pie.
‘Yessss,’ he said, making a fist pump. ‘Now you’re talking.’
Jo smiled. Matthew caught her eye and grinned back.
‘Brilliant,’ Sophie murmured, the word little more than an echo on the wind.
Chapter 26
It was the following Friday when Eleanor finally steeled herself to sit in the chair at the desk in her study. She had been back home for two weeks already. That evening, Jo had gone out with Matthew. They had left early, driving to Plymouth to have a meal and go to a concert afterwards, leaving Eleanor with strict instructions to call Lawrence in the event of any ‘problem’. He was home; Jo had checked in advance.
All well and good. But Eleanor had no wish to call on Lawrence, nor did she expect to. She was fine, as fine as someone can be whose memories are perforated with holes and whose body feels like a second-hand car with too many miles on the clock. But Jo kept fussing too much, continually warning Eleanor about this and that, what to do and what not to do. She didn’t understand that Eleanor needed this time alone. Eleanor was scared of it, which was the reason she needed it so badly. She didn’t want to be scared of being alone, on a sliding, slippery slope of fear for the rest of her life, her world shrinking. She had to face the silence.