by Perks, Heidi
Grace stands by the window and watches the rain as it starts tapping against it, and presumes they have to have done this by now. The waiting is interminable; the only thing she can think of to take her mind off it is the small task of deciding what to feed Matilda and Ethan tonight.
She opens the fridge door and stares inside, no clue what to give the boy for tea when she has no idea what he eats. There is leftover roast chicken that is two days old and a shop-bought, fresh pasta sauce that she knows Matilda will turn her nose up at. Closing the door Grace opens the freezer instead. At least there are plenty of fish fingers – surely every eight-year-old is happy with those.
Grace checks she has enough frozen chips and peas too: an easy meal, but no one will be judging her culinary skills today.
Nancy’s voice rings through her ears regardless, goading her for packing the kids full of frozen foods: a meal that anyone could make. Nancy no doubt makes a fuss of home cooking every night for her family of four while they all sit around the table and chat about their days. Her seemingly perfect life is a pretence, Grace is sure. There is something amiss about it, and she hates to admit that over the weeks of knowing her, Grace has taken to deconstructing what she knows about Nancy and her husband, Eric.
She has learned that they once lived in London and Eric had a very demanding job on the stock market. And yet she has no clue where he works now, though she assumes it’s a job that still pays well, the way Nancy talks about his career like he is the only person in Clearwater to do anything that doesn’t involve boats.
Grace has seen Eric a handful of times at the school gates and spoken to him at the science fair. He is at least six foot tall and incredibly charming, but there is something aloof about the pair of them as a couple. On paper they’re a perfect match, but they don’t interact as other married couples do. Nancy’s arms are never flung around his shoulders like they are when she paws at her friends. She doesn’t touch his arm when she speaks to him, as she always does when she is with Anna. Nancy, by all accounts, doesn’t want ownership over Eric like she does with her friends.
Grace dismisses the idea that her own marriage is probably a source of suspicion for the mums at school given that none of them have met Graham. To her it is blatantly clear – she is married to a man who has no interest in his family. But there’s nothing to be gained from broadcasting this.
It is a surprise when Grace looks at the clock and sees that it’s a quarter to three. It’s nearly time to leave for pick-up and her phone has remained deathly silent. It means that the short drive to school, finding a place to park and getting out of the car increasingly fill her with a sickness and trepidation. She hates not knowing what she is walking into. Surely the other women have been contacted by the police by now. Possibly they all know it was she who reported Anna missing and not Ben. Maybe Nancy even realises she sent them in her direction.
Underpinning the apprehension of seeing them is the fact that she feels so alone. There is no one close to look out for and walk through the school gates with. No one to give her any moral support. She has felt this way since she first set foot back in Clearwater four months ago.
After arriving, she takes a deep breath and strides across the road, attempting an air of purpose. She has Anna’s son to pick up today as well as Matilda, and she wouldn’t be doing that if there had been any news, she reminds herself. It is this thought that encourages her to walk through the gates and up the short path to the main playground, past groups of parents gathered outside their respective classroom doors.
At the far side is Matilda’s class, a single-unit mobile room that sent the parents into a flurry of complaints in the first week of term. Grace couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. It is heated, large, and has enough pegs and cubby holes for every child.
The group of parents feels bigger than it would usually be at this time, as if they have all turned up earlier on purpose, desperate to know if there is any news. She scans the crowd for Anna’s friends and spots only Caitlyn on the furthest side of the group with mothers flocking around her, no doubt asking for an update.
The teacher is already standing outside the classroom, handing over children, many of whom are out of class and running around their parents’ legs. Grace cranes to peer through the window as she approaches and sees Matilda standing in the short line behind the teacher. By the time she reaches the door Matilda has pushed her way to the front and is stepping out, now by her side.
She wraps an arm around her daughter and says to the teacher, ‘I’m collecting Ethan, too.’ Grace peers through the window to see where he is.
‘Oh!’ Miss Williams exclaims, and when Grace looks back at her, her face is etched with confusion. ‘But Ethan’s already been picked up.’ Her expression is now melting into momentary panic as she glances around the playground and then back at Grace.
‘But I’m supposed to be having him for tea,’ she says. ‘His dad was going to call the school and let you know.’
The teacher shakes her head. ‘He did call the school but …’ Her mouth hangs open, her brain no doubt furiously trying to catch up. ‘Oh, I’m sorry; look, you’re going to have to wait here and let me find out what’s happened.’
‘You mean it wasn’t him who picked Ethan up?’ Grace goes on.
Miss Williams shakes her head, non-committal as she apologies again, and adds, ‘Please just wait here a moment and once all the children have been collected I’ll find out what’s happened.’
Reluctantly Grace stands to one side as Miss Williams holds on to the five remaining children. She bends down and asks one of them if his mummy is working and likely to be late again, and does he want to go straight to the late room now? The little boy tells her in a too-serious voice that Mummy has a meeting this afternoon and that he probably should, and all the time Grace notices the look of anxiety on the teacher’s face, as if she is worried she’s done something wrong.
‘Why are we waiting?’ Beside her Matilda is fumbling in her book bag as she pulls out a drawing that she thrusts into Grace’s hands. ‘I did this today, do you like it?’
‘Oh, wow, yes, it’s brilliant,’ Grace replies.
‘You’re not even looking at it, Mummy. Why are we still here? I want to go. And what snack have you brought me?’
‘What? Oh, I haven’t brought one today, sorry, honey, Mummy’s been busy.’ Snacks had seriously been the last thing on her mind.
‘But I’m starving!’ Matilda cries, stamping her foot.
‘Matilda, will you stop that,’ she hisses. ‘Don’t behave like that in the playground, you are eight years old, and you’ll survive without food until we get home. Didn’t they give you any lunch today?’
‘Yes, but it was horrible. It was covered in orange and I didn’t eat it.’
Grace rolls her eyes and glances back at Miss Williams, who now only has two children waiting. The boy she had spoken to remains by her side along with a little girl who is staring at the ground, kicking her leg back and forth.
‘I’m sorry, I’m just going to take them both to the late room and then I’ll be right back,’ she tells Grace.
‘Mummy, why are we still here?’ Matilda whines, stretching out the word ‘here’. ‘I said I want to go home.’
‘Because I’m waiting to find out what’s happened to Ethan, darling,’ she tells her. ‘I’m supposed to be picking him up today.’
‘Why are you picking Ethan up?’
‘Because he is supposed to come to ours for tea.’
‘Why is he coming to ours for tea?’ she asks, surprised.
‘He isn’t, by the look of it,’ Grace mutters, watching the teacher deliver the children through a door and then turn back and head towards the school office.
‘I want him to come,’ Matilda says. ‘Can he still come?’
Grace looks down at her. ‘Do you like Ethan?’ she asks. ‘Do you play together?’
Matilda shakes her head. It crosses Grace’s mind that she hasn’t in
vested in teas and playdates as much as she should have done over the last term. ‘Who do you play with? Is it still Sophia?’
Matilda shrugs and looks away.
‘Is she still your best friend?’
‘No,’ Matilda says defiantly.
Grace studies her daughter. ‘Has something happened?’
‘No. I just don’t like her any more.’
‘Oh, Matilda,’ she sighs. ‘Okay, I promise as soon as I find out what’s happened to Ethan I’ll make sure he comes to tea soon, okay?’
Matilda doesn’t bother answering as Miss Williams reappears from the office and heads over to them. ‘We did have a call from Ethan’s father, but he told us Ethan was going home with Elodie’s mother.’
Nancy. Grace could have guessed. ‘Right,’ she says. ‘Thanks. I must have got my wires crossed then,’ she adds through gritted teeth, and turning to Matilda says, ‘Come on then, let’s get you home.’
As she holds on to Matilda’s hand and walks her out of the playground Grace can’t shake the thought that this has all been meticulously planned by Nancy. She must have found out from Ben that Grace was supposed to be picking Ethan up and made damned sure that didn’t happen. And for whatever reason, Ben hasn’t bothered calling her to let her know.
She is fuming as she reaches the car and opens the back door for Matilda to climb in, slamming it shut and getting into the front, tossing her handbag on to the passenger seat.
‘Why are you so cross?’ Matilda asks from the back.
‘I’m not,’ she snaps, picking up the phone and dialling Ben’s number, which rings and rings before eventually clicking into voicemail.
‘Why aren’t you driving?’ her daughter now pipes up, kicking a foot against the back of her seat.
‘Don’t do that,’ Grace says, reaching round and taking hold of her daughter’s foot, her fingers loosely gripping Matilda’s shoe. ‘I’ve told you not to kick like that.’
‘Why aren’t you driving?’ she asks again, as a loud thump on the window makes Grace jump. She turns to find one of the parents, who she thinks is called Samantha, rapping her fist on the window, crouched over and peering in.
Grace opens the window and the woman takes a step back. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,’ she says.
Grace shakes her head. ‘No worries. You didn’t.’
‘I can’t stop long, I haven’t collected Holly yet.’ She nods towards the school, presumably referring to the girl who was taken to the late room. ‘It’s just that my husband called me earlier and said he saw something this morning. And I haven’t really known what to do about it all day, only I told myself that if I saw any of you here I’d mention it, but I know I’ve probably missed the others now and …’
Grace stares back at the woman, who has trailed off. Her first thought is not what this woman might have to say but that she was clearly looking for one of Anna’s other friends. ‘Yes?’ she asks eventually.
‘Well, he thinks he saw Anna this morning, at about two fifteen.’
‘Really?’ Grace shifts forward in her seat. ‘Where?’
‘On the coast road. He said she was staring up at Crayne’s Cliff.’
‘Crayne’s Cliff?’ Grace repeats.
Samantha nods.
‘What do you mean?’ She shakes her head. ‘What was she actually doing?’
‘That was it. He says she was just looking up at them, or out to sea or something.’
Grace feels her blood run cold. ‘What happened?’ she asks, so quietly, as if she doesn’t really think she wants the answer.
‘Nothing. He was running late for his flight.’ Samantha has a look of unease. ‘Now he wishes he’d stopped, of course, but then he had to get to Bristol and he didn’t really think anything of it at the time.’
‘And he didn’t see Anna doing anything?’ she asks again.
‘No.’
‘Has he spoken to the police?’ Grace asks.
‘Not yet. That’s why I wanted to speak to one of you first. I thought I’d be able to grab Nancy but then, like I said, I was running so late and I knew she’d already be gone, so when I saw you …’
You thought I’d do, Grace finishes in her head. ‘He needs to speak to the police and tell them what he saw,’ she says. ‘Please make sure he does. They know she is missing.’
Samantha nods and gestures towards the school again, telling her she’d better go. As soon as she has scurried off, Grace picks up her mobile and presses Nancy’s number.
‘Can we go now?’ Matilda is asking.
‘In a minute. I need to speak to Elodie’s mummy.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I need to check that Ethan is okay.’
‘Why do you need to check Ethan is okay?’
Grace holds up a hand to quieten Matilda as she listens to the ring tone. She can’t focus on what she wants to say to the woman thanks to the image that fills her head: Anna at Crayne’s Cliff. Only Grace doesn’t see Anna as an adult, but as a teenager in faded jogging trousers and a purple hoodie, with bright pink trainers.
‘Hi, Grace.’ Nancy’s voice brings her back to the present. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Well yes, except I was under the impression I was picking Ethan up from school today,’ Grace replies. ‘Only I hear you have him.’
‘That’s right,’ Nancy says, her words clipped. ‘I spoke to Ben earlier and offered to pick him up.’
‘But I was having him. For tea.’
There is a pause before Nancy says, ‘Well, I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t know that.’
Grace bites her lip. Of course she knew that. She doesn’t believe one word that comes out of this woman’s mouth. ‘Have the police spoken to you?’ Grace asks.
Again there is a moment’s silence before Nancy replies. ‘Yes. They did.’ She pauses and then, ‘I’m sorry, Grace, I take it you haven’t heard?’ The words are uttered so quickly that Grace can tell there’s something wrong.
Her fingers wrap tighter around her mobile as she says, ‘Heard what? What’s happened?’
‘Anna’s been in touch.’
‘What?’ Grace says, confused, for this was the absolute last thing she’d been expecting. ‘What do you mean she’s been in touch? With you?’ she spits out.
‘No. Not with me,’ Nancy says coolly, and with the right tone to suggest Grace should already have known that. ‘With Ben.’
‘I don’t understand. What’s happened to her? Where is she?’
‘I don’t know all the ins and outs, but the good news is she’s safe,’ Nancy replies.
‘Why didn’t anyone tell me?’ Grace blurts. She feels a mixture of relief blended with anger that she has spent all day worrying over her friend and still is the last to hear.
For a moment Nancy doesn’t respond. ‘It’s good news, anyway,’ she says eventually. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Yes, of course it’s good news,’ Grace says, staring out of the window as her daughter proceeds to kick the back of her chair again. Her mind is busy trying to process it, though. That Anna has been in touch, that she is safe, which of course is what she wants, but that she’s still none the wiser, and Nancy isn’t telling her, and why the hell did no one pick up the phone and tell her?
As all these thoughts buzz around her head, Nancy is saying, ‘Okay, well, I have to go. We’ll speak later.’ And it takes Grace a moment to realise she’s hung up the phone.
Grace clicks off her own and throws it on to the passenger seat.
Yes, of course it is good news. If Anna is safe, then that’s all that matters. It shouldn’t matter that she didn’t know, she tries to tell herself, though of course it does. How could it not?
But despite this, something still feels off. She has no more answers, and until Grace hears it for herself from Ben and knows for sure that Anna is okay, then she is not going to take Nancy’s word for it.
That afternoon a group of mothers had clustered around the mobile classroom of 4C at least
ten minutes earlier than usual for pick-up. Not that any of them would admit it, but they’d been hanging around, waiting to leave the house, conscious they didn’t want to be late and miss out on any news.
They had gathered at the gates before they were opened, where there’d been no sign of Nancy, Rachel, Caitlyn or even Grace.
They saw Nancy first, rushing past as soon as they were allowed up the path that led to the classrooms. They wanted to call out but her head was down with her fur-lined hood pulled tight, and she was clearly not lingering to speak to anyone.
Nancy was going so fast that she reached the classroom door before any of them, apparently asking for Ethan, too, because he and Nancy’s daughter Elodie were let out first. And then, with her head still down, she took a hand of each of the children and scurried off the opposite way, towards another gate, which meant she didn’t have to pass them again.
Her oddly frantic movements meant no one felt it appropriate to catch up with her and ask if there was any news. Especially not when Ethan was clutching one of her hands, practically being dragged out of the school.
A few of them glanced at each other, wondering if they were thinking the same thing: it didn’t look good.
And then suddenly Caitlyn was alongside them in the gathering throng, waiting for her child, and one of the mums turned and asked if she’d heard anything about Anna. One by one they stopped their conversations to hear the answer, their faces all wearing the same expression of grave concern.
‘Oh, well …’ Caitlyn faltered. ‘Er, actually I think Anna is okay,’ she said. Her face was unreadable; she looked neither happy nor relieved about this fact.
‘Oh?’ someone said. ‘Well, that’s great. I mean, thank God.’
Caitlyn nodded in response.
‘But … so … what happened, then?’
‘Well, I don’t really know all the facts,’ she replied. ‘But she’s been in touch. And she’s fine.’
‘Oh, brilliant,’ someone else piped up. ‘That’s such a relief. I mean, I was beginning to think the worst.’
‘Absolutely,’ another agreed.