Authors: Debbie Viggiano
Jamie raked a hand through his hair.
‘Yes, yes
possibly I would
.
But Cassie, even if Selina did have something going with Stevie, how does this tie in with him going missing?
’
‘Becaus
e I don’t trust her!’ I cried.
‘Cassie, you are absolutely right.’
Hurrah!
At last my husband believed me.
‘You are absolutely right there is no evidence to tie Selina in to Stevie’s
d
isappearance.
No listen,’ he put up a hand to stop me.
‘So Selina and Stevie did what thousands of Brits do every day.
Skived off work to play hooky.
And
they did whatever they wanted to do together
.
A
nd then Selina went home to Ethan.
She’s back at work.
And after work she’s been going home with Ethan.
Therefore, a
t what point has she had an opportunity to magic Stevie into thin air?
A
part from anything else, what
the hell would be her motive?’
‘Because,’ I waved a hand around, ‘she’s jealous of me.
And wants to upset my w
orld in whatever way she can.’
‘Cassie,’ Jamie’s eyes bored into mine, ‘Let’s examine your theory together.
You’re saying Selina wants to impact upon you.
Am I right?’
I nodded my head.
‘Okay.
Now if your theory is correct, put yourself in Selina’s shoes for a moment.
She wants to upset you.
Rock your world off its axis.’
I nodded my head vigorously.
‘Now forgive me for pointing this out, but if Selina wanted to majorly upset you, wouldn’t it make more sense for her to arrange
my
disap
pearance instead of Stevie’s?’
I stared at Jamie.
He was right of course.
My head knew he was right.
But my heart also knew he was wrong.
Oh so wrong.
I
held back
telling him about tailing Selina to her apartment with Stevie.
And kept quiet about later visiting the place with Morag.
I had a feeling there was only so much I could tell Jamie without him m
ajorly losing his rag with me.
‘Look,’ Jamie took one of my hands, ‘if it makes you feel any better, I’ll talk to Harry about it.
I’ll leave your theories out of the equation though.
But I’ll tell Harry it’s possible Selina was the last person to have seen Stevie.
Harry can decide what line to take.
Just remember Ethan has police connections too.
How the heck would it look if Ethan discovered I’d been talking to our old Super about his fiancée being involved – even loosely – with the disappearance of your ex-husband?
So this is absolutely between you and me
.
O
kay?’
‘Of course.
And thanks Jamie.’
‘In the meantime
,
we just carry on as nor
mal.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean you drive to
Oxfordshire
with Selina.’
‘But I don’t want–’
‘Enough Cassie.’ Jamie stood up
.
C
learly
his patience had run out
.
‘Finish your dinner.
I’ll go and get Eddie off Mum.
An hour later Eddie was in bed.
I then spent a bit of time with the children
.
My impromptu
visit to the police station
was passed off
as
seeing
Nell over a domestic emergency.
Jonas and Toby were playing on the Wii
.
I
joined in with
their fun
for a while
,
before popping in on the girls.
I found them deep in conversation about the pros and c
ons of buying a Lady Gaga wig.
‘Whatever do
you want a wig for?’ I asked.
‘Because,’ said
Petra
, ‘we can enjoy the benefits of being platinum blon
de without wrecking our hair.’
‘I suppose,’ I nodded.
‘The downside is th
at a decent wig is expensive.’
‘But cheaper than umpteen visits to the hairdresser,’ Livvy pointed out.
‘Do yo
u like the idea of wigs Mum?’
‘They’re not for me darling
.
’
No need to tell my daughter about a recent venture with brunette tresses
.
I wondered if Victor had picked the wigs up and shown them to Selina.
And whether he’d regaled her with the tale of two unlikely visitors
peering through her kitchen window.
‘That reminds me, I need to
phone Morag about something.’
I left them gossiping, retrieved my mobile phone and slipped along the landing to the master bedroom.
Jamie was still downstairs watching television.
I shut myself in
to
the en-suite and started a bath running.
Whilst waiting for the tub to fill, I rang Morag’s home number.
I put the loo seat down and perched, wai
ting for the call to connect.
‘Hello?’
It was Joanie
, Morag’s sweet step-daughter.
‘Hi Joanie.
It’s Cass.
Is your step-mama around?’
I sensed Joanie smiling.
‘Hey Cass!
No
,
sorry
.
Morag’s out with Dad.
They’ve gone to check the horses.
They usually take a while.’
I bet.
No doubt Morag was, at this very moment,
cantering around the indoor riding school totally
starkers.
‘
When she’s back, please could you give her a message
Joanie?’
‘Sure.’
‘Tell her,’ I chewed my lip, ‘that I will be over tomorrow morning after the school run
.
And that we need
to discuss Dobbin’s diet.’
Joanie laughed.
‘You know about him do you?
He’s one fat pony!
Keeps breaking into the feed room and stuffing
all the
oats.
He was charging around the riding school last
week completely off his head.’
Dobbin
clearly had much in
common with Morag.
We made
some
small talk before saying good-bye.
I
hung up
and turned off the bath taps.
There was a sick feeling in my stomach
.
It had
nothing to do with the earlier nausea.
More a sense of foreboding.
And that things were
com
ing
to a head.
Friday morning dawned.
When the alarm went off I’d been in the middle of a terrible dream.
PC
s
Thomson and Smith had come a-knocking on the door
with a warrant for my arrest.
‘But why?’ I’d quaked.
‘For the manslaughter,’ Humpty had announced, ‘of Victor Meldrew, the neighbour of
Miss Selina Hadley.’
‘B-but,’ I’d stuttered, ‘h
-he’s a fictitious character!’
‘That’s where you’re wrong Mrs Mackerel,’ Olive had interrupted
.
‘
A
nd you are also under arrest for harassing Miss Hadley and for abducting your ex-husband, Mr Stephen Cherry.’
And then Humpty had stepped forward and snapped a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs on my wrists, the likes of which
you might find in a sex shop.
‘I want a solicitor!’ I’d yelled at them.
‘I know my rights!’
‘Ah, but do you know your nursery rhymes?’ PC Thomson had sneered.
‘You can only have a solicitor if you sing Humpty Dumpty.
Backwards,’ he’d added.
‘Cassie!’ Jamie nudged me with his ankle.
‘Turn the alarm off.’
My hand shot out from under the duvet and groped for the switch on the clock radio.
I groaned and turned over.
And as I did so a feeling of nausea
rushed into my throat
.
I couldn’t take much more of this anxiety.
It was literally making me ill.
I flung back the duvet and padded into the bathroom.
Maybe I’d feel less queasy once I’d cleaned my teeth.
I squeezed out some toothpaste and began brushing, staring at my reflection in the overhead mirror.
A grey-skinned woman with frightened eyes and dishevelled hair stared back.
I couldn’t wait to get the school run out the way and see Morag.
An hour later,
the Muck Truck came to a halt outside Matt and Morag’s house
.
I
suppressed a dry heave and unstrapped my seat belt.
Matt was coming down the pathway, en-r
oute to the equestrian centre.
‘Good morning Cass,’ he trilled as I
clambered
out of the car.
‘Quick, give me a hug and a kiss now
.
B
efore I disappear down the yard and end up stinking like the dung heap!’
H
e grabbed me in a bear hug
and planted
a smacker on my cheek.
I hugged Matt back.
He was always such a cheerful soul.
‘What’s up?’ he asked.
‘You look a bit peaky.’
‘I’m feeling a bit peaky,’ I
nodded.
‘
B
ut
it’s
nothing to worry about.
And anyway, you’re a fine one to talk.
You’re looking somewhat jaded yourself Mr Harding.
Wh
at’s Morag been doing to you?’
‘Ah
.
Y
ou might well ask
.
’
Matt tapped the side of his nose.
‘But where my wife is concerned, sometimes there are secrets that cannot be shared.’
I understood entirely.
God forbid if Jamie knew some of the secrets I was keeping.
‘Go in Cass
.
Morag’s expecting you.
See you later!’
Matt turned
, waving briefly to
Eddie through the car window
, and ambled
off to the yard.
I opened the
car’s
rear door and unstrapped
my boy
.
Swinging him onto my hip
,
I
leant back inside the car and gr
abbed the baby holdall before walking up the path to the front door.
Matt had left it on the latch
, so
I pushed my way inside.
‘Yoo hoo!’ I called.
Henry’s grizzles floated along the hallway.
I followed the noise into the kitchen.
My godson was in his playpen, clearly upset that his Mummy wasn’t giving him the attention he wanted.
Morag was slumped at the kitchen table
.
She was
surrounded by little packets which I initially mistook for toothbrushes. ‘What’s all this?’ I asked.
‘Hi Ca
ss.
’
S
he looked up.
‘They’re ovulation kits and pregnancy tests
.
’
S
he waved a hand at the paraphernalia.
‘I picked up a load in the chemist a little while ago.
We are officially trying for another baby and my period is late.
I was absolutely convinced I’d scored a bingo.
’
S
he stood up and retrieved a stick from the rubbish bin
.
‘However,
according to this,’ she waggled the stick in front of my eyes, ‘there are no buns baking in my oven.’
She chucked the test kit back in the bin
before washing her hands at the sink.
‘Well never mind,’ I soothed
, jiggling Eddie on my hip
.
‘I
t’s not the end
of the world.’
‘You don’t understand Cass
.
’
Morag
dried her hands on a tea towel
.
‘I feel absolutely gutted.
And now I
have
to wait another twenty-eight days before I find out
if Henry is going to have
a little brother or sister.
That’s
four
weeks
.
’
S
he f
lopped back down at the table.