by Ruth Harrow
I glance at my father, who avoids looking at Will and seems intent to focus on turning the mug around on his coaster.
'What did you write? Maybe I should try from my account instead,' I say, pulling my phone once again towards me.
Will looks up at me. 'I think I've got it covered, Hannah. They'll either choose to respond, or they won't.'
'So we are just supposed to sit here and wait, is that it?'
'Calm down. I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding, that's all.'
For a few moments, we stare at each other across the kitchen. Will does a convincing job of looking bewildered, but Dad's words still ring in my head.
I stare accusingly in my husband's direction. 'You know where they have gone, don't you? You just aren't telling me.'
'What are you talking about? Of course I don't! I'd only just got back from the police station when I met you earlier.'
'What time was it when the police dropped you off?'
Will shakes his head. 'They didn't drop me off. Dylan was giving me a ride back to the house, but then I saw you walking alone and I got out in the centre of the village instead. What makes you ask all this?'
'I don't know.'
I take another large gulp of sweet coffee and can already feel its effect working in my veins. Although I'm shaky, I feel ready for a fight. I am determined not to start one in front of Dad, however. He is so fragile already, it might tip him over the edge.
Will takes his mug from the worktop beside me, eyeing me closely before sitting down at the table with my father.
He stretches out his long legs and looks across the table at his father-in-law. 'Tony, are you sure Hannah's Mum didn't say anything about where she was going? Or maybe anywhere where she would like to go?'
Dad puts down his mug. 'Positive.'
'Well, what were they talking about when Hannah was out this afternoon?'
Dad casts around the room, thinking. 'They were just chatting in general, catching up. Her grandmother said how nice it was to spend some time with Eva. She said it was a shame that she had to leave on Saturday for Cyprus. Eva said she would love to go, that it sounded nice. Then her gran said that she would like to sneak Eva into her suitcase when she left.'
Dad chortles to himself and drains the last of his drink.
Will and I stare at each other. My realisation is reflected upon his thick features.
My heart gives a horrible lurch and I set down my mug carelessly on the worktop beside me. The dark liquid runs hot and sticky over the back of my hand.
'She can't have,' I say, shaking my head. 'She can't just take Eva with her … She hasn't even asked me!'
Then words from our recent phone call come back to me. Mum had indeed invited Eva then, nagged me to let her go. Has she overruled me too? Does she think she knows best?
Will is on his feet. 'Hannah, where are you going?'
I grab handfuls of coat in the hallway, rummaging for my car keys. The sleeve of the abandoned blazer swings feebly as I feel inside my own pockets.
'We must get to the airport and stop them,' I say over my shoulder. Then I stop. 'Or would Mum have taken her to Milton Keynes first?'
'Wait a second,' Will says, frowning in the doorway.
His father-in-law appears behind him, looking at me in confusion. 'Eh? What's going on? Where are you going, Love?'
Their inaction infuriates me. I face my husband. 'Trying to be helpful again are you? You aren't going to tell me what to do again!'
'No, I'm not,' he says, in a voice of deliberate calm. 'Just listen. I was going to say that Eva would need her passport before she could go anywhere. They would have to visit our house first.'
I stop with my foot half in my shoe. 'Yes, you are right,' I say, feeling only a little relieved. 'Let's go. They might have already got there.'
'I'll go, Hannah. I know exactly where it is.'
'So do I. It's at the bottom of my wardrobe with the rest of our documents.'
'No. I used it last month when I set up that ISA for Eva. It's still in my desk drawer.'
Locked. Only Will has the key for his loft office.
'I can still come with you,' I say firmly.
My eyes are drawn now towards Dad who looks ruddy in the cheeks, despite his lack of alcohol. He seems to be breathing too heavily, leaning a hand on the door frame.
'Dad, are you OK?'
'Yes, fine. Don't worry about me. This is all just a bit more excitement than an old man like me usually has to cope with.'
Will gives me a pointed look. 'You should stay here with him,' he says. 'I'll take care of this.'
Inside, I am furious to have to agree.
I slide my foot back out of my shoe and set my keys reluctantly down on the side table. 'Bring her home safe, Will,' I say.
'Of course.' He gives me a chaste peck on the cheek in front of his father-in-law, steps out into the warm night and slides into our car.
From the doorstep, I watch it roll out of the driveway with a great feeling of apprehension.
43
In the hallway, nausea bites at my insides. I tell Dad to go and rest for a while. He meanders through to the kitchen and I hope he doesn't find himself a chore to do.
I sink onto the bottom step, resuming the chewing of the inside of my cheek and wonder if Will can reach Eva in time. It is perhaps a stroke of luck that Will happened to have her passport locked away where only he can access it. I'd have been completely stuck had I tried to find it myself. Hopefully Eva would be equally as clueless.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I tap on the notification immediately, thinking it must certainly be from Will.
I see April's name appear and a short message fills the screen.
You would think you would be more careful with your own daughter. You know what can happen when they are left to wander alone …
Fear rises in my chest and pounds hard in my throat. What if Eva isn't with her Grandmother, after all? For a moment, I consider calling the police, but I can imagine Will's reaction if I did and we later discovered that Eva had been perfectly safe with my mother.
Fear and fury drives me to tap out a reply, hoping, rather than knowing the words are true.
Tears of foolish rage blur my vision as I tap aggressively at my phone. I've had enough. I swear this is the last straw. This person has crossed a line.
I don't know who you are, but I know you are full of it. My daughter is safe with her family. You don't know anything. Just leave us alone.
A few minutes pass, seeming to drag on for an unreasonably long time. I pray I am not about to be corrected. A twisted form of relief rushes over me when I read the response back.
You got lucky this time. You should look after things that belong to you in future. You seemed to take more care of Paige's necklace. I know it was you who picked it up from the road after she was hit.
What did you do with it, Little Rose?
My pulse continues to pound in my throat and I rush upstairs to the bathroom, suddenly unable to contain the urge that has been threatening all evening.
Afterwards, I splash cool water on my face and open the window. There is no relief to be had from the heat, but the air is somewhat soothing on my damp skin.
My phone is alight with another message. The screen reflects in the white tiles around the bath and I pick it up reluctantly. I am not sure I really want to read it.
Will's voice sounds in my head. Just delete the messages. Block the number. We don't need this, Hannah.
I think guiltily of the new SIM card still in the glove box of my car, but tap at my screen anyway.
Can you tell me where the necklace is?
Your big sister is only trying to help you, Hannah. I always loved you. You don't know how upset I was when I found out you were marrying a monster.
Eager to rid myself of the bad taste in the back of my throat, I wander downstairs.
Dad doesn't seem to hear me coming and there is a sudden flurry of movement as I enter the r
oom. He steps away from the refrigerator and looks at me enquiringly.
'What are you up to?' I ask, noting how his cheeks are still flushed with colour. 'I told you to rest.'
'I was just ... looking for something stiffer to drink.'
I sigh. 'There isn't any more in the house. You know that already.'
'I must have lost track.'
I say nothing, and prepare us both some fruit juice with the last of the ice.
As I replace the carton, something grabs my attention on the fridge door. It is a luminous yellow Post-it note secured with a magnet.
There is vaguely familiar handwriting scrawled over it. I snatch it up and read.
It is a note from Mum. It explains that after discussing it with Eva, she has decided that her granddaughter will accompany her and Paul on their holiday to Cyprus. She tells me not to worry, that it will be good for all four of us.
Rage pounds in my veins again. How dare she? She didn't even have the decency to tell me in person.
Some of the anger is directed at myself, however, for missing the note.
How could I have not seen it? Was I so blinded by panic?
Dad reads the note over my shoulder and sits himself down at the table.
'Well that has solved that mystery then hasn't it? I can't believe your mother would do such a thing. Taken her off like that without telling you …'
'Can't you? You did it last week!'
Dad shrugs. 'Anyway, I'd better call Penny, let her know that Eva is safe.'
'When did she think she wasn't?'
'I gave her a buzz earlier after you woke me up. She was out on a job, but she said she would have a drive around the village when she got the chance. Keep an eye out.'
'She was working at this time? I thought she did most of her work in the day? It's all holiday cottages around here, isn't it?'
'She didn't say. Back in a minute.'
Dad takes much longer than a few moments on the phone. I wait for him for a long time in the living room. If there was one time I could use his company, it is now during this anxious wait for Will.
I am annoyed with myself for not insisting that I go with my husband now. Dad seems quite all right since he left. His earlier breathlessness seems to have vanished and I feel foolish for being so worried.
Dad finally ambles into the room after his phone call to find me staring mindlessly at a property renovation program on the television.
'What a funny few weeks it has been,' he says with a large sigh as he settles himself into the armchair beside me.
'It certainly has.'
'I still can't believe Reg's death has turned into a murder enquiry.'
My heart sinks. I hope Dad doesn't want to talk about this now. I don't have the energy. I feel his eyes on me and realise he intends to fish for information. Does he think now is a good time to do such a thing?
'I can't believe it either,' I say flatly. 'But I'm sure it is just a routine the police have to go through. I mean, Will certainly didn't kill Reg.' My blunt tone causes Dad to visibly recoil in his seat, but I continue. 'To be honest I don't believe anyone else did either. He has always been popular, Reg, hasn't he?'
Dad recovers himself quickly and looks doubtful. For a few moments, he says nothing. 'I think he might have had his enemies, Hannah,' he says finally. 'You might not have noticed, but Reg did take a dislike to certain folk for very little reason.'
I sigh. 'You're talking about the Wakefields again? But they all died years ago, didn't they?' I look across at Dad when he doesn't respond straight away.
'Yes …' He looks at me sombrely and drops his voice to a whisper. 'But just between you and me, Hannah, I have to admit I always suspected Reg started the fire that killed them. He always seemed haunted after that house was destroyed. He never said anything, of course, but you could see it in his eyes.'
'It's hard to imagine Reg doing such a thing,' I whisper back. A knot has formed in my stomach. 'He wasn't exactly young at the time.'
The image of Reg, an otherwise respectable man armed with a blazing strip of wood or tossing a firework through the window seems too ridiculous to even contemplate.
'I don't believe he acted alone,' Dad mutters, gravely.
'You think someone else was with him. Who?'
'That I can't be sure of. I only have my foolish old suspicions. I have no evidence.'
'So who do you suspect it was?'
My phone starts buzzing in my hand. Glancing at the screen, I see it is a call from my mother.
Anger burns in my insides. I hope she is ready to receive a piece of my mind.
I find myself moving upstairs with my phone, barely noticing what I am doing. Just aware that I don't want to upset Dad with what I might say to the woman who took my child without my permission.
I answer the call. It quickly becomes apparent that Will has caught up with the trio at my mother's house in Milton Keynes.
Mum explains she had taken Eva back to her house to stay until they were due to depart on Saturday. They had indeed planned to pop by our house to pick up Eva's passport. Not that they would have been able to access it, but I don't tell them that.
On the other hand, I do tell my mother plenty of other things. I tell her she was insensitive and thoughtless for putting me on such a roller-coaster of panic. Surely as a mother she could relate?
'What if Gran had disappeared with me and April one day without word?' I demand over the phone. 'What would you have done?'
To my fury, I hear laughter travel along the line to reach my burning ear. 'What would I have done? Oh, Hannah. I would have made the most of it, certainly!'
I sigh and let myself sink onto the bed. It seems Mum can't understand my point, however much I try. She doesn't understand what she has done. Mum didn't know I had been carrying twins throughout my pregnancy; we had seen very little of each other during that time. She had just met Paul and was busy dating and travelling with him.
Will and I were waiting to break the news of bringing a pair of identical twin girls until after the birth. We had planned to surprise everyone.
In the end, we were glad we had kept it a secret. Still Eva doesn't know about the sister she lost. I wonder if they would have been close like April and myself were? Without the age gap they surely would have been inseparable best friends.
For years I pictured Eva's sister as part of every event we shared as a family; for many Christmases and birthdays I couldn't avoid seeing the empty space beside my daughter and visualising it full; colourful and animated as Eva herself.
Now I almost can't picture so clearly having another daughter in the same image as Eva. The thought seems now almost unimaginable; I'm not sure why.
Would the pair have disappeared together in the exact same way with Mum and Paul tonight?
I know I'm not being irrational tonight. Even Will thought Mum had gone too far this time. He rushed off to go and bring Eva back straight away. Even he was on my side on this one.
Or was he?
I don't know what to make of Dad's declaration that the pair had conspired behind my back. Will hadn't given anything away at all. And why had Dad been unable to look me in the eye when he revealed the fact?
Mum reiterates what she said in her note, that she thought it would be good for everyone if she took Eva on holiday with her.
She reminds me of how she let our grandmother take April and I on trips alone, far from home.
'If she wasn't on a fixed income from her pension, she would certainly have taken you girls abroad,' she says, reminiscing. 'And I would never have dreamed of trying to stop her. It would have been wonderful to have had more of a break from you pair.'
My mouth falls open in indignation.
We were well behaved children. We practically raised ourselves as it was. We could have used more supervision, if anything. It would have been welcome.
'I don't mean it in a bad way, Hannah. Raising children is never easy, no matter how good they might be. It's just ni
ce when someone takes the pressure off you, even if it is just for a week or two. You should try it sometime. Looking back, your father and I could have enjoyed some more time to ourselves. It might have saved our marriage.'
'My marriage is fine, thank you, Mum.'
My weary eyes find the red digits of the bedroom clock. It is almost midnight.
'Look, it's late, Mum. Let's put this behind us. We will have to get together again before the end of the summer holidays. Who knows, maybe in the future we can all go abroad together? Perhaps at Christmas? We could rent a villa or something.'
'I'd like that, Hannah. I really would. Do keep in touch, won't you?'
I hang up and put my face in my hands.
It is only a few moments before I receive a new call. It is Will.
He seems to be calling from outside Mum's house somewhere. I picture him in Mum's leafy garden, perhaps sitting on the low wall near the hydrangeas as he reiterates everything Mum just said. He says that apart from being furious at me for spoiling her plans yet again, Eva is fine. She won't speak to me when I ask for her to be put on the line. It cuts me; I had craved her voice to calm my nerves.
Nevertheless, I arrange with Will for him to stay with Eva at Mum's house overnight then drive over tomorrow to pick me up and take me home.
'Why did you drive over to Mum's house?' I ask. 'I thought you were going home to get the passport?'
'I was.'
'Then what made you change your mind?' The paranoia my father induced in me earlier rises again. 'Or did you already know where she had been taken?'
'No. I already told you. I was as shocked as you were when she went missing.'
'So how did you find her?'
'I used a tracking app on her phone to find her location.'
'You can do that?'
'Of course. It wasn't that hard.'
A thought suddenly occurs to me. What if April's phone could be tracked in a similar way? Why didn't Will think of it already? We could pinpoint the location of whoever took it. It could lead us directly to the person who has been sending all the messages.