No Place to Hide (12 page)

Over the following weekend Justine deliberately kept a low profile, not venturing into town at all, spending most of the time finding new walks for Daisy. Though there weren’t many British students at the Academies, a handful at most, she didn’t want to risk running into any of their parents in case she should be recognized.

Sallie Jo rang on Tuesday afternoon to confirm that her birthday dinner was still on, and so a little before six Justine dropped Lula and Daisy with Hazel, and managed not to utter a word about how anxious and bereft she was going to feel without her daughter
and
the dog. It was only one night, she kept telling herself, they would be fine, and so would she.

Now, here she and Sallie Jo were at the Corndance Café, enjoying cocktails while they waited for the others to arrive.

“I’m sure glad that weekend’s over.” Sallie Jo sighed after a generous sip of her cosmo. “Everything was great up till Sunday, when the cooks suddenly changed how they run orders. One was putting out in twenty minutes and the other in forty. It was chaos and soooo embarrassing. Why they change things on the busiest of weekends I’ll never understand. Anyhow, we got through it. So how about you guys, what have you been up to?”

Justine smiled. “Everything’s about the puppy at the moment,” she replied, filling with affection for the little bundle of fluff that never ceased to delight.

Playfully rolling her eyes, Sallie Jo said, “I’m not surprised; it’s got to be the cutest thing I ever saw. Hazel’s crazy about it, and now she’s bugging David to find one for her too.”

“Do you want to get a dog?” Justine asked, picking up her drink.

Sallie Jo rocked a hand from side to side. “If we could find one like Daisy, I guess I’d be fine with it. We’ll see.” She sipped her cocktail again and glanced around the cozy room with its Halloween decorations, linen-covered tabletops, and oak-beamed ceiling. There were only a handful of people there, most drinking cocktails, though one table had just been delivered an enormous helping of firecracker shrimp, and some sort of creamy dip with pizza bread.

With time ticking on, Justine was starting to wonder if the others were actually coming. As though reading her thoughts, Sallie Jo looked vaguely awkward as she said, “I arranged for us to be here earlier so we could talk.”

Though she couldn’t imagine what it would be about, Justine felt herself tense with unease.

“It’s kind of…” Sallie Jo shrugged. “Well, I guess I want you to know that if you and David…I mean, I think he’s attracted to you, and if you feel the same way…”

Justine was dumbfounded.

“I want you to know that I’m not someone—”

“Please, you’ve got it wrong,” Justine broke in quickly. “There’s nothing between me and David, and I promise you there never will be.”

Though it was clear that Sallie Jo wanted to believe her, it was equally clear that she wasn’t sure if she should. “You say that now…”

“I mean it,” Justine put in forcefully. “I’m truly not looking for a relationship, but even if I were, it really wouldn’t be with him.”

“Because of me?”

“No, because of me. But yes, you too. I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he has them for you.”

Sallie Jo’s eyes went down. “Even if you’re right,” she said quietly, “I don’t want to fall for him, because I’m sure he’s going to leave sooner or later…He’ll take a position in New York, or back in Washington. I know he’s had offers already.”

“And he’s turned them down?”

“So far, I guess.”

Not sure if giving advice was the right way to go with this, Justine said cautiously, “Maybe if you opened up a little more with him, let him know that you’re interested and he stands a chance?”

Sallie Jo’s smile was wry. “That’s what everyone thinks,” she confided, “but he’s not stupid. He’s got to know I have feelings for him.”

“Why would he be sure of you if you’re not sure of him?”

Sallie Jo had no answer for that.

“If you ask me,” Justine pressed on, “you’ve both been through a lot, with him losing his wife and your divorce, and now you’re both afraid of being hurt again. That’s what’s holding you back.”

Sallie Jo’s laugh was hollow, yet hopeful. “Do you think so?” she said.

“I really do, and so would you if you were able to see things from the outside. The trouble is we never can when it comes to sorting out our own lives.”

Apparently liking the answer, Sallie Jo suddenly brightened. “Hey, we don’t want to be talking about this anymore,” she declared, “we want to be talking about you…I’ve had an idea about a job that might be of interest to you.”

Justine felt herself starting to tense.

“I could really do with some help…”

Justine tried desperately to think up a way to head her off, certain she was going to ask her to help out at the café. Yet what excuse could she give when she owed Sallie Jo so much?

“So what do you say?” Sallie Jo prompted eagerly.

Realizing she’d missed the details, Justine said, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’d be right for the café. I—”

“Hell no, you don’t want to work there,” Sallie Jo laughed. “I’m asking if you’d consider going to view properties for me. You know, take down the particulars, measure, photograph, write the blurb? If it appeals, you might even want to think about getting your Realtor’s license.”

Justine felt herself flounder. “Uh, it’s not something I’ve ever…I mean, it’s…” At last she started to smile. “It’s a great idea,” she declared, understanding it was what Sallie Jo wanted to hear, and actually it wasn’t such a bad one, now that she came to think of it. “I’m not sure about the license,” she ran on, “but I’d love to help out with the listing side of things.”

“That’s terrific.” Sallie Jo clinked her glass to Justine’s. “I’ve kind of got this fantasy that we might even go into partnership together, but hey, that’s me, I always get carried away.”

Remembering how often she and Cheryl used to get carried away, and how many of their dreams had come true, Justine gamely said, “Don’t let’s rule it out. I’m sure I’ll love the idea once I’ve had time to get my head round it.”
And once I’ve dealt with how much like a betrayal it might feel.

Looking up as Naomi came in with Christina, a teacher at the high school who lived over in Knox, Sallie Jo waved and quickly said to Justine, “There’s something else I need to tell you, but I won’t go into it in front of the others. It’s just I thought you’d like to know that I asked my folks if they remembered your grandma. My mother said she did, but she didn’t want to repeat the rumors she’d heard, because she had no idea what was true and what wasn’t.”

Justine’s eyes widened.

“I’ll get more out of her when she’s here,” Sallie Jo assured her, rising to her feet, “unless we’ve managed to find out for ourselves by then.”

Nine years earlier—Chippingly Vale, UK

The farmhouse was overflowing with everything that made up Christmas. Trees were glittering merrily in the kitchen, hall, sitting room, and playroom, each laden with decorations the children (mostly ten-year-old Abby) had either made or helped choose during shopping expeditions locally and in town. Colored lights chased and flashed and twinkled all day and night, with trains hooting around the base of the playroom tree, and carols warbling from music boxes and dancing reindeer beneath the others. Abby and her friends had collected all sorts of greenery and berries from the orchard and wilderness beyond to make wreaths for the doors, while Ben, Chantal, Nelly, and Neil had kept warm in the kitchen roasting chestnuts and making lists to send up the chimney to Santa. Even Matt’s study hadn’t escaped the festive spirit, with silver snowflakes sprayed on the windows, as they were throughout the rest of the house, two modest red felt stockings hanging from his corner mantelpiece with “Mum” and “Dad” embroidered on the fluffy tops, and his very own Advent calendar offering him a chocolate a day from each little window. Abby and Ben’s large and very hopeful stockings (both made by Abby) were dangling each side of the fireplace in the sitting room, where baskets of kindling and pinecones, sprayed with fake snow, were cluttering up the hearth, and a garland of gold-painted leaves, bright red poinsettia, and rich green pine boughs was draped across the shelf.

With the delicious smell of brandy-laced puddings filling the kitchen, and the radio jollying things along with “Jingle Bell Rock,” Justine left Win, her trusty housekeeper, to carry on in her invaluably capable way while she took off down to the deli to help with the end-of-day rush. As she ran through the drizzly rain into the heart of the vale she felt cheered by the lights burning in everyone’s windows, the glowing reindeer grazing in gardens, and fake icicles dangling from rooftops. Of course the children couldn’t wait for it to snow so they could build snowmen, toboggan at top speed down the hillside, and turn the park and brook into an ice rink, but none was forecast for the next few days, so there was unlikely to be any for Christmas itself.

What was due to happen on the big day was the usual midday champagne and canapés at the farmhouse for anyone who cared to drop in—at least sixty or more usually did—followed by the traditional feast of a meal for around twenty that Justine and Cheryl always prepared together, using the kitchen barn. Both their families would be there, including grandparents—even her mother was threatening to grace them with her presence this year. Rob and Maggie would come with Francine, naturally, and as usual a number of old folk from around the village would join in rather than be left on their own.

When added to the dozen or so parties they’d already catered this month, it was a heck of a lot of work, and by the end of it she and Cheryl would be more than ready for their regular new year skiing trip to Meribel. Vikki and Daniela, their senior managers, were perfectly capable of taking care of the events at that time, while the deli would close its doors from Christmas Eve until January 10.

Digging around for her phone as it rang, she waved to Simon as he rode into the vale on his motorbike, and clicked on the line to speak to Matt.

“Where are you?” they both asked at the same time.

“On my way to the deli,” she told him. “The kids should be there by now.”

“Did they go to Longleat?” he asked.

“Ben did, but Abby decided to go shopping with Gina instead. How are things your end?”

“OK, I’m at the airport now, no delays apparently, so I should get into Heathrow around eight in the morning.”

“Which means you’ll be home by ten. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here. I’ve really missed you, and I’ve been worried out of my mind…”

“Stop, I’m fine, I promise.”

“But you shouldn’t be up and about already.”

“The doctor said there was no reason for me not to go back to work, as long as I don’t overdo it.”

“Which would be fine if he was talking to someone else; as it’s you…”

“Matt, I’m over it, honestly. Everything’s back to normal, and that’s how we need it to be, for the children’s sake as much as for ours.” She wasn’t going to tell him, or anyone else, that her heart was still breaking over the second miscarriage she’d suffered in the past eighteen months. It wouldn’t help anyone, least of all her.

“I shouldn’t have left you,” he said. “I felt terrible, I still do…”

“You had to go,” she reminded him, “and once we knew it had gone there was nothing you could do here.”

“Apart from take care of you.”

“Darling, don’t let’s keep having this conversation. Cheryl and Gina did a great job of running everything.”

“I’m talking about you, not the business.”

“And they took very good care of me. As did Abby. She’s decided she might be a nurse now, instead of a singer.”

With a smile in his voice he said, “Heaven help the sick and wounded. Surely that doesn’t mean the end of her girl band?”

“Never let it be said, except the members keep changing by the week. Wes has joined them now, so technically speaking they’re not a girl band anymore. And only time will tell how well that’s going to work out.”

Laughing, Matt said, “Is he planning on singing with them at the village hall on Christmas Eve?”

“As far as I know, and he’s a part of the surprise they have planned for when you get back in the morning. I think you’re going to enjoy it.”

“Having you all there would be enough for me,” he said, “but I’m intrigued to find out what it is.” With a sigh he added, “LA’s a great place to be when you’re all with me, but this is the fourth time this year I’ve had to come on my own and I’m not liking it much.”

“But you’re loving the reason you’re there.”

He didn’t deny it.

“Matt, flight’s up,” she heard someone say.

“Who’s with you?” she asked, turning into the village, where rows of dazzling Christmas lights were strung across the high street, adding their own seasonal splendor to the German market stalls crowding the pavements. There were fewer people around than she’d expected, probably thanks to the rain.

“Hayley,” he reminded her.

Of course—his editor, who might be joining them for Christmas if she could get out of a prior commitment.

Justine couldn’t say she was much looking forward to that, since Hayley wasn’t her favorite person. “She must be very pleased with the way things have gone,” she remarked, blowing a kiss to Ruby, the florist, who blew one back.