Missing (21 page)

‘You still haven’t told me what she meant about asking
you
where Jacqueline is,’ he reminded her.

‘I’ve no idea.’

His expression was darkening. ‘If you know anything …’

‘For God’s sake, Miles, if I had that kind of information do you seriously think I’d keep it to myself?’

Since it hardly seemed likely, he let it go. After checking for his keys he was about to tell her to book herself into the pub for the night, when the arguments that would inevitably follow flashed before him. Having neither the time nor the inclination to get into it now, he told her to take a taxi to the house, and left.

Justine’s eyes remained on the door long after it had closed behind him. She took another sip of her drink, and continued to reflect on the intriguing exchange she’d overheard as she’d come into the bar.

This has been so hard
, he’d said to Vivienne.
For me too
, she’d replied.

Of course, they could simply have been expressing how difficult they’d found the past two years, being
apart
from one another. On the other hand, they could just as easily have been referring to some kind of forced separation that they’d been enduring since his wife’s mysterious disappearance.

Taking out one of her mobiles she put in a quick call to Colleen Peterson, the reporter she’d been working with on the
Mail
. ‘The Berkshire address I texted you yesterday?’ she said when Colleen answered. ‘Have you sent a photographer over there yet?’

‘Dan Figgis went earlier,’ Colleen informed her. ‘Apparently there’s definitely a child inside, but so far he hasn’t been able to get anything usable.’

‘Is he still there?’

‘Be serious, it’s dark out in case you hadn’t noticed. He’s going back tomorrow. So, what’s happening about the meet with Vivienne Kane?’

‘I don’t think it’s going to happen,’ Justine replied, ‘but don’t worry, you’ve got something much better coming your way.’ Snapping closed the phone, she carried her drink to a table, knowing that even if Dan Figgis didn’t manage to get a shot of the child she wasn’t far off being ready to go to press with rumours of one, anyway.

‘OK, Elaine,’ DI Sadler was saying as he started out of CID, where momentum had stepped up since they’d received confirmation that Miles Avery was the father of Vivienne Kane’s child, ‘let’s go pay Ms Kane a visit.’

Quickly grabbing her coat and mobile, DC Joy hurried after him. ‘You’re not going to call first?’ she asked, catching him up in the corridor.

‘I think a little surprise might serve us well,’ he responded, digging into his pocket to make sure he had his keys.

Stepping aside for two uniformed officers to run past in answer to an emergency, Joy said, ‘Will you let Avery know in advance about the official search for his wife?’

Sadler nodded as they continued out through custody. ‘I’ll speak to him before we brief Tactical Aid in the morning,’ he said. ‘They know we need divers and pilots?’

‘DS Johns is arranging it.’

A few moments later they were getting into Sadler’s Ford Focus.

‘Do you know where the Blakes’ place is exactly?’ he asked, reversing out of the parking space and driving round to join the rush hour on Heavitree Road.

‘More or less. It’s kind of between Chudleigh and Haytor. Whatever, it’s going to take us a while in all this.’

Sadler didn’t disagree. Nor did he feel inclined to speak again until they were on the main road heading south from Exeter, when he said, ‘Have you sorted out family liaison? There’s a teenage daughter, remember?’

‘I’ll get right onto it, sir,’ she replied, and opened up her mobile.

Chapter Nine

THE RAIN WAS
coming down in torrents, lashing the vaulted roof of the cider press and flooding the roiling stream outside. Vivienne was pacing the small room, waiting for the sound of Miles’s car and wondering if she’d done the right thing in allowing Alice to tell him where she was.

Now that the initial shock of seeing Justine had worn off her anger had abated, though she still couldn’t accept with any kind of equanimity the fact that he was even on speaking terms with the woman. Surely to God he’d accepted by now that she was behind the article that had brought Jacqueline back two years ago, and if he had she could only conclude that he either had some kind of blind spot where his venomous little protégée was concerned, or the wretched woman had something over him. And if that was the case, Vivienne damned well wanted to know what it was.

When at last the sound of tyres crunching gravel mingled with the storm she flung open the door, then turned back into the lamplit room to wait. A smoky yellow fire was gaining life in the wood burner, and the shadows on the walls were flickering and large. Deep inside she wanted to scream, for this was nothing
like
the kind of reunion she’d long envisaged. However, for Rufus’s sake, she must put her own needs aside as she attempted to persuade Miles to cut all contact with Justine James. How she was going to do that without telling him about Rufus, she wasn’t yet sure, she simply had to trust to the right words coming when she needed them.

As he appeared in the doorway, tall and filling the frame, her heart expanded with so much emotion that she had to force herself to look away. Now wasn’t the time to give in to how much she still loved him.

She heard him close the door, and brought her eyes back to his face. As though it had a will of its own her body seemed to yearn towards him, but she didn’t move, and nor did he.

‘You’re irrational where Justine’s concerned, you know that don’t you?’ he said angrily.

Her eyes flashed with shock. ‘I think you’ve just stolen my line,’ she shot back. ‘After what she did …’

‘She’s a journalist, for God’s sake. You might not like some of the things she does to get a story, and frankly I don’t either, but it’s a cut-throat world out there.’

‘Don’t defend her to me. I know you’ve never believed she was behind the story that brought Jacqueline back from the States.’

‘You’re wrong, I know she was, but it was only a matter of time before our relationship was made public, so she took it upon herself to try and run it in a way that would do the least damage. She has no editorial control. That belongs to the Critch. She gave him the facts, and he spun them into a tale all his own.’

‘For an intelligent man, Miles, you can be staggeringly naive at times. Don’t you realise how resentful she is about being left behind on
The News
?’

‘This is old ground. Let it go …’

‘Don’t patronise me. I lost you because of her and that story, and you came very close to losing your daughter, so I’d like to know what the hell she’s doing here now, when your wife is missing?’

‘She’s here because she can keep me informed on what the Critch is up to, and because I considered it wiser to have her working with us than against us.’

Vivienne stared at him, dumbfounded. ‘Miles, for God’s sake—’

‘I was thinking of Kelsey,’ he broke in. ‘I’m trying to minimise what they’re going to say about me, and you know where the Critch stands as far as I’m concerned. Kelsey doesn’t need that kind of shit. She’s already going through hell because of her mother, I don’t want her suffering even more because of the grudge that man’s got against me.’

‘But Justine’s not the only journalist you know on
The News
.’

‘She’s the most dangerous, because right now she’s fighting for survival.’

‘And you’re letting her anywhere near you? I don’t believe this. Have you lost your mind?’

‘If she’s where I can see her, then I know what she’s doing.’

As she started to answer they heard the sound of someone arriving outside.

Going to the window she pulled aside a curtain, and her heart sank as the car headlights went off. ‘It’s Laura, the housekeeper,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and see what she wants,’ and putting a coat over her head she went out into the rain.

‘Sorry to interrupt if you got visitors,’ Laura said, getting out of her mud-spattered Peugeot. ‘I was just
coming
to tell ’e that there’s a nice ’ot casserole on the stove, if you’m hungry. Can bring some over, if you like, or you can come and eat with us.’

Vivienne smiled past the frustration inside her. ‘Sounds wonderful,’ she told her, ‘but I picked something up from the supermarket on the way back.’

Laura nodded, and looked pointedly at Miles’s car. ‘There’s plenty enough for two if you changes your mind. Partial to a bit of game, are you?’

‘Quite,’ Vivienne admitted.

Laura tore her eyes from the car. ‘I almost forgot,’ she said, digging into a pocket. ‘The key to Sir Richard’s office. There’s a code too – 1415. Nice and easy to remember. If you needs to go in you just goes round the back of the house. It has its own door.’

‘Thank you,’ Vivienne replied, taking the key. ‘I probably won’t need it this visit, but I will when I come back, so shall I hang onto it?’

Laura nodded. She continued to stand where she was, soft, silvery spikes of rain slanting through the halo of light shining around her from an outdoor lamp.

Vivienne waited beneath the tent of her coat, wondering if the old woman was hoping to be invited in.

‘Well, I s’pose that’s it then,’ Laura said finally. ‘You knows where we be if you d’change your mind.’

‘Thank you,’ Vivienne said.

After glancing at Miles’s car again, Laura returned to her own and Vivienne stood watching as she turned it around.

‘Meant to tell you,’ Laura said, lowering the window before driving off, ‘there’s a shoot going on in the top woods in the morning, just in case you was thinking of going for a walk up there.’

Vivienne was still smiling. ‘I’ve got an early start, so it wasn’t my intention,’ she said, ‘but thanks for the warning.’

Laura blinked once or twice, then putting her foot down gently she started off down the drive.

Once the red tail lights had disappeared, Vivienne turned back across the bridge to the cider press. ‘She came to invite me to supper,’ she told Miles, closing the door. ‘And to let me know there’s a shoot tomorrow.’ As she rehung her coat she added, ‘I think she recognised your car, so I guess the gossip mill’s about to start grinding.’ Her head went back as she gave a growl of despair. ‘Why can’t people just leave us alone?’ she said through her teeth.

Realising he’d said nothing, she turned to find him standing the other side of the table she’d arranged as a desk, staring down at something he was holding in his hand. When she realised what it was she felt a slow paralysis coming over her. She’d completely forgotten about the photograph she always carried of her and Rufus, the one she set up next to her computer, or bed, when she was staying away. In it Rufus had one fat, rosy cheek pressed up against hers, while his two little bottom teeth were proudly displayed in an exuberant smile.

She watched silently, painfully, as Miles continued to stare down at his son. Her mind was reeling as she tried to think what to say. Had he guessed? He must have, or he’d surely have put the photo back by now. In the end, when he turned to look at her the very paleness of his face told her all she needed to know.

‘I want to see him,’ he said gruffly.

Her heart leapt. ‘Miles … I …’ Was she really going to deny him?

He put the photo down and pushed his hands over his face and through his hair. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he demanded. His eyes were harsh and accusing as they came to hers.

‘I wanted to, believe me …’

‘How old is he?’

‘Fifteen months.’

He almost flinched. ‘And his name?’

‘Rufus.’

His eyes closed as the emotions tore through him like knives. ‘How could you?’ he murmured. ‘Knowing what you do …’

‘Miles, try to …’

‘Don’t you think it was bad enough losing one son?’

‘You haven’t lost him,’ she cried. ‘He’s with my mother. He’s safe and that’s how I want him to stay. Oh God, Miles, please try to understand. Not telling you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but for his sake, and for yours …’

‘If I’m his father, Vivienne …’

‘There’s no if about it. Of course you are, and I swear I want you to be together. You must know that. I love you, for Christ’s sake. I’d never want to do anything to hurt you, but I was afraid … I still am … Jacqueline …’

‘Damn Jacqueline,’ he shouted. ‘You had no right to keep this from me. You of all people must know what it means for me to be deprived of a son.’

‘Of course I do, but please try— Miles, don’t!’ she exclaimed, as he slammed a fist against the wall. ‘I was trying to protect him, you have to understand that.’

‘From me? His own father?’ he said savagely.

‘No! From Jacqueline. She’s so fragile, and unpredictable. I don’t know if she could cope with—’

‘But it wasn’t your decision to make. Not alone. You’ve kept him from me, prevented me seeing him. Don’t you think it’s enough that someone did that fifteen years ago? Couldn’t you at least have tried to put yourself in my place?’ His voice tore with emotion and his eyes closed as he tried to swallow the pain.

‘Darling, I’m sorry,’ she cried, going to him. ‘It wasn’t done to hurt you, you—’

Pushing her aside, he said, ‘Do you have any idea what it’s been like all these years, trying to stop myself imagining what happened to Sam, trying not to think about someone hurting or abusing him, feeling like the biggest fucking failure on God’s earth because I wasn’t there for him? And now you’re depriving me of a second chance …’

‘I’m not!’ she shouted. ‘You’re not seeing this rationally, Miles. No one’s taking Rufus away from you, because no one wants you to be with him more than I do. But we have to think of Jacqueline, especially now. What’s going to happen if she reads it in the press and no one’s there to help her come to terms with it?’

‘You think she’d harm him?’ he said incredulously. ‘An innocent child?’

It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him of what she’d done to her own daughter, but it was too cruel. He knew it, and didn’t need to hear it. ‘I’m just afraid it might prove the end for her, what finally tips her over the edge,’ she replied helplessly. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder at the sound of a car pulling up outside. ‘Oh no, Laura what do you want now?’ she muttered angrily.