Lipstick and Lies (49 page)

Nell set the bacon butties before us
,
tutting loudly
.

‘So in a nutshell
,’ she paused briefly to search out tomato sauce from the fridge, ‘
your investigation of Selina’s apartment backfired
.
A
nd any moment now the Old Bill
could descend
and cart you off to th
e local nick for questioning.’

‘That’s pretty much the gist of it
.’
I took the sauce from Nell and squirted
liberally
over
the bacon
.
‘
Mmm.
Delish
.’
I took a massive bite
.
G
rease slid down my chin.
I’d better make the most of this.
I didn’t know if the food in
jail
ran to bacon butties.
When I was a child
I’d listened, round-eyed, to my parents telling me about
prison
.
That should I ever break the law, my doom would be a dungeon-like
abode
with only bread and water
to survive upon
.
At the grand old age of eleven, I’d been outraged to discover this
was a
huge untruth.
Indeed,
these days it seemed there were more rights to be had on the inside than the
outside.
Why, only last month I’d received a ticket for parking illegally whil
st giving
Eddie an emergency change on the car’s back
seat.
I’d been watched by a
sadistic traffic warden
who
had gleefully fed my car registration details into his machine.
What about my son’s human rights for a clean bottom
,
eh?
I took another chunk out of the bacon butty and sighed.
Time would tell whether
we’d
be eating more butties in Nell’s house
,
or languishing in a cell
dressed in
pyjamas
covered in
arrows.

‘It was a disaster,’ Morag agreed.
‘I hope Matt doesn’t find out.
I can’t begin to imagine how he’d react.
Bonks might be su
spended by way of punishment.’

‘A whole new meaning to going bonkers then,’ Nell
arched an eyebrow
.

‘Jamie would go ballistic.
’ I
gave an involuntary shudder whilst imagining
my husband’s reaction
.
‘He works in security!
Can you
envisage
client reaction
?
How would Jamie explain the little matter of his wife tootling off in a wig to case a colleague’s joint and being party to knocking over a pensioner?
That would be the end of Fareham & Mackerel.
Well, the Mackerel bit anyway.
Definitely not the career move he’s looking for.’

‘Regarding our husbands, I think we’d better keep Mum for now
,
don’t you?
’ suggested Morag.

‘Definitely.
’
I nodded my head vigorously.

‘And as for Stevie,’ said Nell, ‘can I suggest you try getting hold of him one
last
time.
If you don’t speak to him, leave a message
saying that unless he
properly returns your call,
you will report him to th
e police as a missing person.’

‘I think the last thing I need right now Nell is
to flag myself up to the police.
’
I licked one finger and ran it around my plate
, gathering
up butty crumbs.
‘However,
you’ve made a
good point.
If I don’t get hold of Stevie
,
I’ll give
Charlotte
a ring and suggest she phones the police.
She’s still pretty much Stevie’s partner as such
.
T
here’s the house to sort out after all
.
P
lus she has some stuff to collect.
I think
Charlotte
is the most appropriate person to report any u
nexplained prolonged absence.’

‘
G
reat idea,’ Morag nodded her head.
‘The Old Bill can investigate Stevie’s whereabouts
,
and we can be left firmly out of the equation.
Then
I can get back to normal life.
And bonking my husband instead o
f being celibate behind bars.’

‘And talking of bonking, why was Matt and the sex food diet
mentioned on that clipboard?’

‘Oh it was just a joke.
You know, to tease Matt the next time he consulted his beloved horses’ diet sheets.
He’
s always tweaking them about.’

‘I thought that pensioner was g
oing to swallow his dentures.’

‘Pity he didn’t,’ Morag grimaced, ‘and then he’d have been too busy giving himself the Heimlich Manoeuvre to take
down my registration number.’

I drained my coffee.
‘Time to go home.
And do normal things.
Like ironing.
And housework.
I will never
again complain about
chores
being
boring.
From now on it’s the quiet life for m
e.’

‘Me too,’ Morag agreed.
‘We will leave you in peace Nell.
At le
ast Rosie’s colic has stopped.
’

‘Yes,’ Nell sighed.
‘For now.’

With a sigh of relief,
I set off
on
the
afternoon
school run.
It was bliss to be pootling along at twenty miles per hour
,
instead of roaring away from furious pensioners or getting
en
tangled with
Astravan
drivers suffering road rage
.
One way or another, the last few days had seen rathe
r a lot of drama on the roads.

The kids were in high spirits when they piled into the car.
Livvy and
Petra
were talking nineteen to the dozen about a new
p
hysics teacher.
Male.
Fre
sh out of uni by all accounts.

‘Mr Boardman is gorgeous,’
Petra
gushed.
‘I just know I’m going to love studying
p
hysics from now on.’

‘He can explain
Newton
’s laws of motion to me anyt
ime,’ Livvy sighed dreamily.

Jonas was intent on teasing Toby over his crush on Diane Cooper.
‘How’s the grand plan coming along Tobes
?
You
know,
the one to
deepen your voice
.
I can’t wait to see
Diane faint clean away the next time you pass her in the corridor
.
’

‘All in good time,’ Toby assured.
‘One day I’m
going to marry Diane Cooper.’

‘Ha ha ha!’
Jonas let out a raucous laugh
.
‘
T
hat’s the funni
est joke I’ve heard all year.’

‘I’ve heard a funnier one,’ Toby retorted.
‘My wife to be – Diane Cooper – sat down next to me as I was flipping channels.
She asked, “Wh
at’s on TV?” so I said, “Dust”.
Although that’s probably the sort of thing Jamie would say to you
,
isn’t it Mum!’

‘Very droll,’ I smiled
.
There
probably was a fair sprinkling of dust on the tel
ly, indeed throughout
the entire house.
But not for much longer.
I would give the
place
a good bottoming.
Just as soon as I’d barricaded myself into a handy room
with my
mobile phone
.
I wanted
to speak
to
Charlotte
away from wiggling ears.
The last thing I wanted was the
kid
s worrying about their father.

The Muck Truck bounced into the driveway
of Lilac Lodge
.
I was relieved to catch a glimpse of Arthur and Edna working away on the boat.
Their body language indicated they were perfectly at ease with each other.
It would seem Arthur had recovered from his marriage proposal being rejected.
They both put up a hand and waved as we emptied out of the car.
I waved back.
The kids charged
through the front door
.
Dumping their coats
over the banister
, they
thunder
ed
up
stairs and disappeared into
their rooms.

‘I’ll be coming around with the
Hoover
shortly
,’ I called after them.
‘S
o pick things up off the floor please
.
’

I went into the kitchen with Eddie on my hip.
He started to grizzle, so I made
up
a feed before popping him into his playpen.
Two minutes later he was under his mobile and guzzling contentedly.
Shutting the kitchen door, I went over to my holdall
.
Rummaging inside, I extracted
my mobile.
First things first.
Call Stevie.
I touched the screen, selected his number and waited for it to connect.
Seconds later it began to ring.
And ring and ring.
Once again the voicemail kicked in.
I took a deep breath.

‘Hi Stevie.
It’s Cass.
I was really hoping you’d answer the phone.
Can you call me back please?
I haven’t spoken to you for a few days
.
F
rankly I’m concerned.
Concerned enough to report you to the police as a missing person.
So call me.
As soon as possible.’

I hung up.
Wallace and Gromet appeared through the cat flap
.
They set
up a cacophony of howls
, demanding their
tea.
I opened a tin of cat food and was just
doling out
some particularly pongy meat, when my mobile signalled the arrival of a text.
Setting the
cats’ dishes
on the floor
, I snatched up
the phone.
The text was from Stevie.

For God’s sake Cass
,
get off my back.
I told you I was going away.
Stop looking for drama and making a crisis where there is none.

I stared at the message.
Well, that had told me hadn’t it!
Or had it?
Why couldn’t my ex have simply
telephoned
to say the same thing?
Stevie wasn’t the most thoughtful of men, but I really didn’t think he’d deliberately not
wish to
put my mind at rest.

I touched the screen and Stevie’s message disappeared.
This time I scrolled through my contacts looking for
Charlotte
’s number.
She answered on the second rin
g.

‘Hi
Charlotte
, it’s me.’

‘Hello Cass,’ she inhaled sharply.
The breath caught in her throat and she coughed slightly.
She was clearly anxious.
‘Have you heard from Stevie?’

‘Yes.
And no.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, he’s texted a few times.
But when I ring he never picks up.
Frankly I’ve had doubts that it’s been Stevie texting me at all.
I’ve even wondered if his phone has fallen into somebody else’s hands.
His messages have been both inaccurate and downright rude.
I rang him ten minutes ago and left a message on his voicemail to call me
,
or else I’d be repor
ting him as a missing person.’