Never Tell (26 page)

He grinned. ‘I’d never have guessed.’

I liked the laughter lines around his eyes. Lots of laughter lines; lots of laughing at some point. Only not with me. He was still and watchful. Like a cat, waiting for the mouse.

‘Silly.’ I tried to smile. ‘You know what I mean. I mean, the first time – I mean, I’m not a bad person, you know. I don’t – I haven’t made a habit of this.’

‘You are very unhappy, that’s what I know.’ He took the cup from me and put it down. ‘It’s obvious.’

He rolled me over gently and he traced my skin, my naked back with one finger and I shivered.

I was terrified. Terrified by what I was starting to feel so damn fast, so fast I was winded by it. Terrified by what I might do. By what he might be able to make me do.

* * *

Later he asked me about my husband. I was reticent: it wasn’t part of this; of us. I didn’t want it to be. Thinking about James brought me back to the children – and then my guilt began to kick in.

We lay tangled on the bed and he asked me other things: about my career, my times abroad. And for some reason, I believed that he was truly interested. I’d break off, embarrassed, and he’d prompt me on again. It felt like a luxury to be listened to this way.

My husband didn’t want me, that was the truth. This man did. I was falling deeper, too quickly, I could feel it.

And afterwards. This man pushed me backwards on the bed and held my arms hard above my head. This man kissed me like I hadn’t been kissed since I could remember. Since—

Ever.

Chapter Seventeen

Lust is not a noble emotion. I drove home at dawn, sick with a new feeling I couldn’t admit; sick with missing my children. In the fast lane of the motorway I opened the window, in need of fresh air. Sunlight slid down the sky before me; the watery golden shafts disappeared into the trees and I had a sudden vision of walking up them, escaping into the clouds through that letterbox of light.

Lust may not be noble – but it was quickly turning to something else. Something I couldn’t seem to rein in.

I shook my head. I needed coffee.

All the lights were on in the house.

‘Hello?’ I called.

There was a thump from upstairs; the old floorboards creaked.

‘McCready?’ I was confused. The cat shot through the banisters, making me jump. McCready must have arrived early.

A door slammed shut.

‘Where the fuck have you been?’ My husband stood at the top of the stairs, hair on end, in his pyjama trousers.

My mind began to bang down dead ends like a fly against glass. ‘God, you scared me,’ my voice sounded hoarse. ‘I thought you were in Vietnam?’

‘I was. It went so well, the deal was done – I came home again to celebrate. You said you didn’t want to be left.’

I’d never said that.

‘Only you weren’t here.’ He looked down reprovingly.

‘I went to see Xav about the Kattan story.’

‘Not that again,’ James snarled, starting down the stairs. ‘I told you to leave it, didn’t I?’

‘What are you so cross about?’ I walked away from him, thinking, trying to make it add up, into the kitchen. I put the kettle on, throwing my coat onto a chair, checking myself quickly in the mirror. I was pale, my hair tangled and messy, last night’s make-up smudged beneath my eyes. ‘Xav and I went for cocktails last night. It was too late to drive back, and I was pissed.’

James followed me into the room. ‘You don’t get pissed.’

‘Not often, no.’

‘You never get pissed,’ he repeated, staring at me. ‘Not since—’ He stopped. We eyed each other like boxers in the ring, waiting to see who would take the first jab.

‘Well, I just felt like it for once,’ I shrugged. ‘No kids, no husband. Why not?’

‘And where are the bloody kids? I’ve been looking forward to seeing them.’ He was petulant as a small child.

‘They’re at my mum’s. You know that. She’s bringing them back this afternoon.’

‘How convenient,’ he muttered.

‘What’s that meant to mean?’ I asked, chucking PG Tips into the teapot. I would not lose my temper. ‘It’s the first time since the twins were born that they’ve stayed there without me. It’s a treat.’

‘For who?’

‘For all of us. A breather. It was you, James, who didn’t want any of us to come with you to Saigon, I seem to remember. So,’ I changed tack to deflect the inevitable row, ‘did it go well?’

‘Yes,’ he said shortly. ‘I got everything I needed. It’s all on.’

‘Brilliant.’ The kettle snapped off. ‘Listen, I’m knackered. I’m going to have a kip. That last margarita didn’t go down very well, I have to admit. Tea’s in the pot.’

‘OK.’ He’d started rifling through the post on the table.

‘You can tell me all about Vietnam later, yeah?’

‘Not much to tell,’ he shrugged indifferently. ‘Got what I needed, that’s all. We can relax again.’

Upstairs I got straight into the shower, as hot as I could bear it, and scrubbed myself from head to toe. Then I drew the curtains and got into bed, but I couldn’t sleep, despite my exhaustion. I just wanted my children – wanted Effie’s plump little arms, and Freddie’s fat tummy, Alicia’s skinny frame – all in bed with me now. I couldn’t wait to see them.

I’d just dozed off when the doorbell rang. I checked the clock; it was still much too early for my mother to have made it all the way from Derbyshire. I got up anyway, disappointed, and walked out onto the landing in my dressing gown.

‘Who was it?’ I called to James.

‘What?’ His voice was distant.

‘Who was at the door?’

‘I thought you got it.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ I muttered. I went down to the kitchen and rang my parents’ house. My father answered.

‘Hi, Dad,’ I said jovially. ‘Just checking what time Mum left.’

‘She’s here,’ he said.

‘Running late?’ I said, my heart sinking. I’d never craved my children’s presence more than this second. ‘Can I talk to the kids, please?’

‘What do you mean?’ my father said. I heard my mother enter the room behind him. ‘Hang on, Rose. Speak to your mum.’

I doodled a heart in two halves on the pad by the phone. A dead fly twirled on a thread from the windowframe.

‘Hello, lovey. Had a good break?’

‘Sort of,’ I mumbled. ‘Looking forward to seeing my monsters, I must say.’

‘I’ll bet. Sorry we’re not going to see you today, but actually it’s worked out quite well. It means I can play bridge with Marge later.’

‘What do you mean, not going to see me? Can I speak to Alicia, please?’

‘They’ve gone already,’ she said brightly. ‘They left about half an hour ago. They were so excited to go in that big car. And what a lovely man. So good with them all.’

Cold sweat broke out on my upper lip. ‘What?’ I croaked. ‘What are you talking about? What man?’

‘James’s driver collected them. James’s assistant left a message with Dad this morning.’ But she sounded unsure now. ‘Derek? She did, didn’t she?’

‘James!’ I was screaming his name, ‘James, come here now.’

I dropped the receiver as my husband ran into the room. ‘Rose?’ I could hear my mother’s frantic voice, tinny, suspended in thin air as the phone dangled, futile on its lead. ‘Rose, what’s wrong?’

‘What?’ James was staring at me.

‘Who did you send to pick up the kids? Tell me you sent someone?’ I grabbed his top. ‘Who did you send?’

‘What?’ His face was very pale. ‘Rose, calm down. I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t even know where they were.’

‘You did know,’ I was shrieking like a banshee, shaking him fruitlessly. ‘You knew they were at my mum’s. Who did you tell? Who’s got my kids?’

He picked up the receiver that was still twirling as uselessly as the fly.

‘Lynn, it’s James. Can you explain what’s going on? Where are the children?’

This then, this was my punishment. I could not possibly hope for a life outside motherhood – but I had – and so this was my comeuppance.

I ran to the sink and retched violently.

* * *

We called the police. My mother had no details, she didn’t even know the make of the car, but she’d thought it was James’s, she was sure she’d seen him driving it before. Something big and grand, like the Americans drive, she kept saying. And the man, the man seemed so friendly, she kept saying. He wore sunglasses and a dark coat with a hood, and she didn’t know what colour hair he had because he had a beanie hat on pulled down low, but he definitely wasn’t dark. Well, she didn’t think he was. Perhaps he was a bit dark – but she’d been running round fetching the children’s stuff and making sure they had their sandwiches and done a wee and she just couldn’t think straight, she was so panicked she couldn’t think straight. He had an accent, maybe, she thought, some kind of accent. He knew James, she was sure of it; she’d met him before, she knew she had, she just couldn’t remember where, but she was sure he was James’s driver. He said he was. And the kids seemed happy to go with him, they knew him, they even kissed him hello – but she just couldn’t remember his name, or if he’d said it at all. My father had deleted the message from the answer-phone and so there was no way of hearing it back. I tried not to shout at my parents for being so careless; I knew it wasn’t really their fault. It was mine. I should never ever have left them. ‘They knew him,’ my parents kept saying, bleating in terror. ‘They definitely knew him.’

How could they know the thoughts that filled me full of terror now? My mother just repeated helplessly that she didn’t know cars, she didn’t know the make, whilst shiny black Range Rovers kept careering through my head.

The police promised they would send someone round to interview her. Were we sure it wasn’t a family member, though, they kept asking.

I slumped on the sofa and James put his arm around me. Momentarily I was grateful for the contact, but I was soon up again, unable to sit still. I’d rung Hadi Kattan’s house immediately after we’d spoken to the police, but there was no answer. And then when James went to make more tea, I found Danny Callendar’s mobile number from the text he’d sent last night and I rang him. He didn’t answer either, but I left a message asking him if he knew where my kids were.

An hour or so later, the doorbell rang and I ran for the door, skidding on the rug in the hall. As I plucked it back, I had never been so eager to open a door in my life. But it was only the milkman, come to settle his bill.

‘Who is it?’ James appeared behind me.

‘No one,’ I said. ‘Just Bob from the dairy.’ My voice was unsteady.

James walked down the hall away from me. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

I didn’t want tea; I just wanted my children. Crouched down in the corner of the hall like a wounded animal, I promised God, I promised everyone and anyone who came to mind that I would stay at home for ever, never let the kids out of my sight, never stray from the house again, never crave anything else, if they could just come home safely.

‘Please, please,’ I intoned, ‘please let them be all right.’

Danny’s words kept ringing in my ears; his warning that Kattan would turn nasty. But the kids had kissed the man, my mother said, so it couldn’t have been Kattan – could it? Why hadn’t I listened? Why hadn’t I been more sensible? I cursed myself, over and over again; I cursed myself.

James came back out into the hall and I realised I’d been talking aloud, mumbling like a mad old woman, rocking back and forth where I sat.

‘Leave me alone,’ I said, refusing to let him pull me up. ‘I’m staying here until they come home.’

I was almost dozing, my head on my knees, the phone by my feet, silent now, despite having rung every person in the world I could think of that might possibly be able to help. Outside, the afternoon was drawing in, the March wind buffeting the windows without mercy. The magnolia tree had bloomed, but the flowers could never withstand the severity of the weather: the petals were already scattered on the grass.

As the church bell chimed four, I thought I heard something. My head shot up and I stood as quickly as my stiff legs would let me, my freezing feet all pins and needles. A vehicle was pulling into our drive as I tore open the door again.

‘Liam.’ I saw him striding across the gravel from the big Hummer. ‘Liam!’

I felt the most almighty stab of disappointment and then, as if in a dream, I saw my eldest child’s head pop up from the back seat and wind down the window.

‘Alicia!’ I yelled.

‘Shhh,’ she gestured, pointing at something and giggling. ‘The twins are asleep.’

I ran across the gravel in my bare feet, dressing gown trailing, and scrabbled at the car door, breaking my nails, sweeping my eldest daughter down from the back seat and into my arms. Effie opened one eye groggily and I leaned over and unfastened her baby-seat, squashing Alicia’s head in the process. Fred was fast asleep on the far side, thumb in his mouth, slumped over the seat belt, head lolling uncomfortably.

‘Ouch, Mum, you’re hurting me,’ Alicia said, wriggling crossly. ‘Mum! Get
off.’

James was there now on the doorstep behind us, talking tersely to his partner in a low voice.

‘Come and get Freddie, please, James.’ I carried Effie towards the house, Alicia twirling across the gravel beside me, her pink dress bell-like as a fuchsia flower.

‘Look what Gran bought me,’ she crowed proudly. ‘It’s awesome, isn’t it?’

‘Awesome, sweetheart,’ I said. ‘Get Fred, James, can you?’ I drew level with the men. Liam glanced at me.

‘What the hell were you playing at?’ I hissed at him over Effie’s wispy head. ‘Are you mad?’

‘What do you mean?’ Liam was calm. ‘James asked me to collect the kids.’

Astounded, I spun round to my husband. ‘James?’

But he was already crossing the drive to the car, unbuttoning Fred’s seat belt, kissing his ruddy cheeks. Avoiding my gaze.

‘When did he ask you?’ I stammered. Helen Kelsey drove past the end of the drive and slowed, waving like a jolly schoolgirl. I hid my face behind my daughter’s plump body.

‘Ask him,’ Liam muttered.

‘I will.’ I was incredulous. ‘I can’t – I don’t—’ I gave up, began to walk inside. ‘I assume you’re coming in this time?’