The Playdate (36 page)
Homesickness for Colorado was coming now in long, regular contractions. London was supposed to have been a fresh start. A place to be a normal person, finally, with a normal family and normal friends, far from the liars and betrayers and users and demons of home. Yet, it turned out, the liars and betrayers existed here, too. At least back in Colorado, she could drive out
into the wilderness and hike hard till everything turned numb with exhaustion, and peace finally descended in the expansive silence of the plain. In London, there was nowhere to escape. She could hardly breathe in this toxic air.
Suzy started up her yellow convertible. Finally, the path looked clear. The rain had driven away the joggers and dog walkers and left her alone at last. She drove slowly off the main palace road and down into the lane that ran through the parkland, hidden behind tall rows of trees. “Perfect,” she muttered, turning right over a large pothole farther down toward the wildlife area, the car door lightly scraping wild raspberry bushes, sprinkling red fruit on the road. She kept driving slowly till she found the entrance to the hidden lane. When she reached it, she slowed down and looked behind her. There. No one could see from here.
“OK, hon?” she said.
Rae looked at her with her curious big eyes. She was shivering a little in her thin silver party dress, the fleece tossed, forgotten on the ice-rink reception area floor.
“Can I go to the party now?” she said meekly.
“No, hon. It’s too dangerous for you at the moment. Mommy wants me to take you home. She’s being mean again, I’m afraid. But do you know what? I’ve done something very silly.”
“What?”
“Well, I went the wrong way when we came out of the palace, so I turned in to the park lane to turn round, and there was a big van in the way.”
“Was there?” says Rae, confused.
“Uh-huh, so I had to drive past it, but then the lane got very narrow, and I couldn’t turn round, so I kept driving trying to find somewhere to turn, and now we’re really stuck!”
“Are we lost?” The little girl looked out of the window at the wet bushes around them with fearful eyes.
Suzy took Rae’s hand, which felt ice-cold. She stared at her for a long moment, watching as tears started to form in the child’s eyes. Leaning forward, she stroked Rae’s cheek.
“I think we might be.”
Then she turned and looked at the bench under the tree.
I reach the door of the ice rink, soaked in rain, my chest heaving.
“Any sign?” I gasp, pushing through the main doors and running up to Caroline.
“No,” she calls, looking concerned, while trying to hand out cake to the children who dance around her, arms outstretched, all decorum lost in their quest for more sugar. Henry sits in the corner, sulking. “What can I do?”
“Can you keep Henry?” I say. “Please? I need to find out where they are.”
She nods again, doing a good job of hiding her irritation.
I stand, gulping air, dripping water, pushing buttons on my mobile. Suzy and Jez are still not answering. I leave a message for Tom. I ring A&E at Northmore, too. Nothing.
Where is she? I fly back out the door.
“Rae!” I scream into the car park.
I rush to the wall that looks over the city, and down onto parkland. Left and right. “Rae!”
Nothing. The long walkway is clear. Huge raindrops pummel my face. Spray flies up as a car races past through puddles below.
Where is she? Where the hell is she?
Great sobs burst from my mouth.
I need her. I need to know she is safe. I need to protect her.
Allen rang her when he reached the entrance to the ice-rink car park.
“I’m down in the woods, love,” she panted, pushing away a branch. Leaves were sticking to her hands and face. Her trousers and shoes were soaked now. “Can you find the cricket club? I’ll meet you there in three minutes.”
She managed to climb out of the wet bramble bushes onto the rutted, one-car track that led from the palace road down into the football and cricket fields at the bottom of the parkland in front of the palace. A minute later, she heard Allen’s car crunching along on the stony road.
“Over here!” she shouted, waving a wet, woolen arm.
He stopped and opened the passenger door.
“You’re soaked, love.”
She jumped inside, sending rivulets of water all over the interior. He sat, watching her expectantly. She looked at him, brushing water from her arms, then leaned over and took his
face with both hands. To her relief, he didn’t flinch. Bravely, she lifted his glasses and met his gaze.
“Allen?” she said.
“Hmm,” he muttered.
“I don’t like these glasses. I want to see your eyes. They make me feel safe.”
He nodded.
“Right. Will you carry on looking down here?” she asked, pulling away. “I haven’t been round the nature reserve yet—it starts over there at the edge of the cricket field. I’ll take the car if that’s OK? I could do with getting warm for a second. I’ll take it to the other side of the palace, where the garden center is.”
“Course, love,” he said, looking slightly dazed. He stepped out of the car in his green anorak. “What are you planning to do if you find them?”
“I don’t know yet,” said Debs, opening the passenger door and walking round to the driver’s side. “Maybe just watch them till she gets Rae home safely. Then I’m going to get that woman Beattie next door to talk to Callie.”
“OK, love. Well, be careful.”
“Thank you, Allen,” she said, touching his arm. His glasses were dripping with water, just like hers. They looked at each other through their steamed-up lenses.
“What a pair,” he said.
And to her surprise, he leaned forward and planted a rain-drenched kiss on her lips.
“I’ll be back down to get you in ten minutes,” she squeaked, blood rushing to her cheeks. “If you see them in the meantime, ring me.” She climbed back in the car, adjusted the seat for her longer legs, and drove off, a smile tugging at her lips.
* * *
Debs reached the T-junction at the top of the rutted road. She turned as if going right onto the palace road. She was just about to continue when something back down on the track to the right caught her eye.
She pulled over sharply onto the shoulder and had another look. A flash of bright yellow was moving behind a tree, down into the woods.
That was them! Where were they going?
Debs looked around wildly. There wasn’t enough room to do a three-point turn here. Without time to think, she turned off her engine, jumped out of the car, and ran back toward the trees.
There it was. Yellow. Yellow metal.
“Oh!” Debs gasped, chasing after it.
She ran into the trees, making her way along a little path that took her ahead of the car, then steeply down onto the lane.
She ran blindly, not knowing what she was going to do when she got there.
Pushing through spiky wet branches, she emerged onto a little lane.
A noise behind her made her turn.
Suzy was sitting at the top of the lane in her car, talking to Rae behind her.
Then she turned round to look at the road—and saw Debs.
The women’s eyes met through the rain-soaked windshield.
“Hello. You’re the mother, are you?”
I jump as the shout comes out of nowhere. I am running down the hill blindly, trying to work everything out. If Suzy left the palace and didn’t arrive home, where could she be? At least if I retrace the route she would have taken by car, I can be sure they haven’t crashed or broken down. My ears strain to hear sirens.
I stop and see the odd little man from across the road waving at me.
“Have you lost a child?”
“Yes!” I shout. “Have you seen her?”
“Come over here,” he motions through the rain.
I dash across the road, missing cars by a whisker. Close up, he looks like a wet mole, with a long nose and kind, sad eyes.
“Do you know where she is?” I shout above the drum of water.
“I don’t, I’m afraid, but my wife is pretty sure that she’s with
your neighbor in this park,” he says, pointing toward the dark, wet trees. “She’s looking for her right now. Why don’t we go this way together?”
I stare at him, horrified.
“What are you talking about? Why the hell is your wife looking for my child?” I shout. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Before he can answer, a high-pitched scream of “No!” comes out of the woods.
What was the American woman doing? She started the car and began to rev it, staring at Debs like a monster through the windshield. Her face was fixed in a grin, her eyes wide and angry.
With precision, she pushed a button and watched Debs as the window came down.
“I need to speak to you,” Debs shouted nervously. “Could you turn the engine off, please?”
But the American woman just kept staring at her, revving the car. Her turquoise eyes shone fiercely out of the gray shadows cast by the wet trees above. Horrified, Debs watched as Suzy revved the engine even more loudly this time, and slowly turned the wheel until it pointed in her direction. She could see the little girl in the backseat, crying, pulling at her seat belt.
“Please,” Debs shouted, “could you turn the engine off, Suzy? Or could you at least let Rae out, please. She’s scared.”
But before Debs could say anything else, Suzy slammed her foot on the accelerator and came flying the thirty feet toward
her, the car’s wheels scrabbling on the wet path as they picked up momentum, shooting up grit and leaves.
“No!” Debs screamed, jumping to the side.
The car missed her by three feet and slammed into a bench with an enormous bang that sent its hood flying up in the air. An air bag burst open with a blast.
There was a moment of silence, as steam rose high into the air with a hiss.
Debs stood blinking.
Suzy slowly lifted her head up. Blood dripped from her nose. She looked at Debs again, eyes still shining.
“There!” Allen shouts, pointing to where a puff of white smoke is rising from between the trees.
I run through tall wet grass so fast that each time I trip the step just throws me toward the next obstacle, and I make it through the woods, legs and arms flying in all directions, body almost horizontal against the wind.
“Rae!” I scream.
We reach the path and look desperately left and right.
“Callie—help!” I hear Suzy’s voice shouting. “Please help us!”
“This way!” Allen shouts, taking my arm as we stumble down through wet undergrowth onto a smaller path.
I stop, helpless.
Suzy’s car is smashed into an old bench, the yellow metal of its hood split into violent curls. Debs is standing in front of it, hands out, shaking her head.
“Call 999!” I scream at Allen. I run to the back door. “Rae? Rae?”
“Callie, help us. She tried to kill us,” Suzy sobs from the
front, her face pressed into an air bag. “Argh. I think my arm’s broken. She ran out screaming at us, and made me crash. Is Rae OK? Please, Cal. Check her first.”
I look up to see Debs walking tentatively toward the car.
“You!” I scream. “Get the fuck away from my daughter!” I pull frantically at the back door, trying to see through the dark glass.
“It’s locked, Suzy!” I shout.
“OK, hon,” she murmurs, moving her hand around to find the lock. It springs open.
The door pulls out with a heavy clunk, and I force my head inside, terrified.
And there is a moment. A wondrous, peaceful moment when I see that Rae is not there. That the booster seats are empty, the backseat vacant, the seat belts neatly clipped in their slots. Not today, I think. For once, it is not us. Not me, not my daughter, not my family.
It is only as I put my head between the front seats in relief to tell Suzy that Rae is not here, that I see a flash of silver.
A silver dress crumpled in the footwell.
And then bones collapse inside me. A tidal wave of blood rushes through my veins. Systems close down.
“Allen, I didn’t, I didn’t . . .” she stuttered in the rain as the ambulance pulled away.
He put his hands round her wet face and smoothed down her hair.
“I believe you, love. I believe you.”
And then he pulled her tightly into his soft, fleshy arms and she stayed there, weaving backward and forward, but he didn’t let go.
“Where is she?” Tom screams in my face.
He barges through the doors of A&E, his eyes raw. I just stare at him and point toward a door.
“Jesus Christ!” he shouts. He rams his elbows on the sides of his ears. “What the fuck happened? That fucking woman, Cal. I told you.”
I stand waiting, unable to move.
“Where is Rae?” he yells, grabbing my arm.
I take two, then three, deep breaths and force out my words.
“Cardio have just taken her. She went into the back of the passenger seat.”
“What are they saying?”
“She’s in the MRI. They’re worried that . . .”
“What?”
“That because the impact was on her chest—the old aortic repair has . . .”
“Ruptured?”
I shut my eyes and nod.
“Oh, Jesus Christ!” He puts his hands on his face.
This is my fault. I’ve done this. The Saturday night drunks are already arriving in A&E. One man who smells badly of urine falls over and is left there by the nurses, cursing in our direction. Another sits with his mate, with a towel pressed to a bleeding arm, the expression of a vicious dog on his face.
