In Search of Hope (11 page)

She stopped him moving, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘Thank you, Chad.’

‘I didn’t do much.’

‘You were there for me.’

He hugged her close. ‘I always will be. I love you. We’ll find your daughter.’

And dammit if his voice didn’t echo too.

Libby was annoyed at herself for missing Joss, when he hadn’t even been gone for a full day. But this little enclave of houses was so quiet without him that she felt lonely … and vulnerable. No one would even know if Steven came back and attacked her again.

Just before lunch she went out for a breath of fresh air and let Ned run around. She looked at the two empty houses and wondered why no one was living there. When she looked at Joss’s house, she wondered when he’d be back.

How stupid could you get? Missing a man you barely knew.

Only he was so solid and reassuring she felt safer with him next door. And … she liked him.

Even Ned kept asking about him.

That afternoon she took her son for a short drive to Hollingworth Lake, a place she’d loved to visit as a child. It had been created to supply water to the local canals, but now it was a leisure area.

As they walked along the promenade, she watched some people in canoes, who looked to be enjoying themselves hugely.

But although the lake was only about two and a half miles in circumference, Ned wasn’t old enough to walk round it. After a while he grew bored and fretful, clinging to her hand. She wondered if he’d had too many new experiences lately, if what he needed for a time was a quiet life getting used to his new home.

She didn’t trust the car enough to go further afield, so turned back towards the village, taking a winding side road and enjoying the beautiful scenery.

On the Friday morning she took Ned for a walk up to the little church. He wasn’t interested in it, or the graveyard that lay up a slight slope above it, but she wished she could take more time looking round. She knew some of Grandma Rose’s ancestors were buried here, but many of the graves were overgrown.

She didn’t know anything about her own ancestors – the blood relatives, that is – not a single thing, because of being adopted. Her mother had always vehemently refused to consider contacting her birth mother to find out, she wouldn’t say why.

In the evening, Libby decided to go to bed early and read a book she’d picked out of Grandma Rose’s huge collection of romance novels. Not that she believed in that sort of romance, not any more. But you could enjoy a fairy tale without believing it was true, couldn’t you?

Outside a car turned into their close and pulled up. It was likely to be Joss, but her heart began to thump in apprehension in case it was Steven. It’d be so like her ex to turn up at night.

In the front room she peered carefully out of the window, letting out a huge sigh of relief when she saw it was indeed Joss’s car. He was back.

A heavy burden seemed to fall off her shoulders and it took her only a few seconds to work out what it was: the burden of trying to keep her son and herself safe, trying to make sure Steven couldn’t ill-treat either of them again.

He’d been violent once. Very. Her rib still hurt when she moved carelessly. Maybe he’d got a taste for violence now. She’d never forget the savage triumph on his face as he punched and thumped her. Or how afraid she’d felt that he was going to kill her.

As Joss got out of the car, he looked towards her house, she wasn’t imagining that. Then he moved towards his own home, turning to lock his car with the remote before taking his backpack inside.

She went back into the kitchen, but a couple of minutes later there was a knock on her door. It didn’t have a peephole in it, and though it wasn’t likely to be anyone but her neighbour, she still called out, ‘Who is it?’

‘It’s me, Joss.’

She’d opened the door before she remembered she was wearing a rather flimsy nightdress and dressing gown which she’d found in a drawer, neatly covered in gift wrap. She didn’t know who Grandma Rose had meant it for, because there was no name on it, but she hadn’t been able to resist trying it on. It had been so long since she’d owned something frivolous and pretty.

Joss stared at her in surprise and she could feel herself blushing, even though her outfit was perfectly decent, being suggestive rather than revealing.

‘I didn’t mean to disturb you, Libby. I saw your light and just wanted to let you know I’m back, so that you don’t worry if you hear noises from next door.’

‘Thank you.’

He turned to leave and she remembered something. ‘The postman left a parcel for you this afternoon. Please come in while I get it.’

He moved into the hall and followed her into the back room. ‘I suppose Ned’s in bed?’

‘Yes, and sound asleep. We went for a walk up to the church and the graveyard this morning and played ball this afternoon. That tired him out nicely.’

Joss nodded. ‘It’s like
Wuthering Heights
come to life, isn’t it, up there? A walled graveyard on the edge of the moors, with the wind howling round the tombstones.’

‘That’s what I thought. I’d like to think I have ancestors buried there, but I have no idea what my birth mother’s connections were. The graves are all overgrown but I do wonder if some of Grandma Rose’s ancestors are buried there.’

‘Rose investigated it and found out where her ancestors were just before she fell ill. She wanted me to show you once you’d settled in. She would have liked to be buried in the churchyard near them, but they don’t allow burials there any more, so she had a cremation and we scattered her ashes near her grandmother’s grave.’

‘You must show me where. I’ll take some flowers. Um, have you eaten recently?’

He grimaced, ‘An airline snack.’

‘I baked a cake. Would you like a piece? And … I bought a bottle of wine. To celebrate coming to live here. Only it doesn’t feel like a celebration when you drink a toast on your own.’ She gestured towards an almost full glass on the table.

‘I’d love both the cake and the wine, if I’m not keeping you up. I’m still too wired from travelling to fall asleep.’

‘Do sit down. We’ll stay in here because the front room feels damp and unused. I’m going to light a fire in there tomorrow.’

‘Rose didn’t use it much.’

Libby got out the chocolate cake and the bottle of white wine. ‘Did your business go well?’

‘Very well. It’ll give me some intermittent work, but I’m not quite sure what my role will be yet.’

‘You must miss having a career. You were doing quite well before the accident, weren’t you?’

‘I suppose so. Detective Inspector. I miss being busy, but I don’t miss being fitted into the straightjacket of rules and regulations, and the higher I rose, the more paperwork there was. Thank you.’ He took a bite of cake and chewed it slowly, murmuring in appreciation. ‘That’s absolutely delicious.’

‘I like baking better than any other sort of cooking. My ex didn’t eat cake. He insisted on a very healthy diet, which was fine by me. But never to have cake or biscuits seemed a bit too much, so I sometimes made it anyway and hid it.’ She clapped one hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry!’

‘Whatever for?’

‘There’s nothing as boring as someone who goes on and on about their ex.’

‘I’ll swap tales with you one day.’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘You were married?’

‘For a couple of years. It wasn’t the best time of my life.’

‘What was?’

And they were off swapping stories of their childhoods until suddenly she realised they’d been doing this for an hour, it was nearly midnight and he was yawning.

‘You look exhausted, Joss. I shouldn’t have kept you so long.’

‘I’ve enjoyed your company. Thank you for inviting me in. I’ve … been a bit reclusive since the accident.’

She walked with him to the door.

‘Lock up carefully,’ he warned.

‘Oh, I will.’

She went to bed marvelling at how easy Joss was to chat to, how he didn’t seem to judge her or put her down. It made the contrast with Steven even more vivid. Why had she put up with that for so long?

She walked slowly up the stairs. She’d sleep better knowing Joss was next door.

It was only as she got into bed that she realised she hadn’t changed out of the negligée while they chatted. That was because he hadn’t stared or done anything to make her feel underdressed. In fact, she’d felt totally comfortable with him.

But still, she ought to have put on something more … more … No, her dressing gown was so dowdy. She was glad she’d been wearing the lovely negligée.

Steven wasn’t enjoying living on his own. Even after a few days, the house needed thoroughly cleaning, a task he’d never undertaken before. And he didn’t intend to do it now, either.

He went online and found a cleaning agency, but when he tried to ring them, a mechanical voice referred him to office opening hours. Which would mean ringing from work. He hadn’t told his team leader that Libby had left him. His home life was no one else’s business.

He decided to do something he’d never done before: take a day off sick. He’d plead a gastric upset, which seemed to be the most common excuse offered.

He rang the cleaning agency as soon as office hours started, but they only dealt with commercial properties. He had to try three places before he found one that grudgingly agreed to do a residential house – though the price they were going to charge for this made him furious.

After that, he went shopping to a big centre where he hoped no one from work would see him. He needed to buy fresh food, healthy stuff. Since he wasn’t used to shopping, it took him two hours to go round the supermarket and pick out what he needed, including some frozen dinners and pieces of meat he could cook quickly, like steaks or chicken breasts.

There were cookery books in the house. He’d find some recipes. If Libby could manage to cook, then he was damned sure he could too. He could do anything if he set his mind to it, as his mother had always assured him.

On his way home he saw an office building whose discreet sign announced a legal practice. On an impulse he turned into the car park and went inside.

‘I’m looking for a lawyer specialising in marital problems,’ he told the woman at reception.

‘That’ll be Ms Whorton.’

‘I’d prefer to consult a male lawyer.’

Her expression suddenly became chilling. ‘We don’t distinguish our lawyers by gender. In fact, I believe that’s illegal.’

‘Fine. I’ll go elsewhere.’

He heard her say, ‘Good riddance!’ as he left and turned to glare at her.

When he got home, he put the frozen food away, made himself a healthy salad and sat down to eat.

As he was clearing up, he suddenly remembered Libby’s lawyer’s name: Greaves, Henry Greaves. Pleased with himself, he went online to find out more about the fellow, only to discover that his firm didn’t have a web presence.

So he looked Greaves up in the online telephone directory and found an address and phone number for Greaves and Hallibourne. That had to be the one. He copied the details down.

But he wouldn’t get in touch until the bruises on Libby’s face had had time to fade, and anyway, he was still gathering information, planning his strategies.

Once he set out after her, he had no doubt that he’d find her. No doubt at all. He’d take some leave – he had plenty owing – and bring her back where she belonged.

And Ned, of course.

What’s more, he’d take an interest in his son’s upbringing from now on. It was time to set some standards for behaviour, to inculcate the child with the right attitudes and beliefs.

As his own father had done.

Two days later, Libby tried to start her car, but the motor only coughed and refused to do anything.

Not again! She covered her face with her hands, feeling like bursting into tears. She’d planned to go into Rochdale to wander round the markets and perhaps a few charity shops, to buy toys for Ned and a few more clothes for herself.

She’d hoped the new battery would have sorted out the car’s problems, but clearly not. She’d better join a motoring organisation, in case she ever broke down while she was out and about. In the meantime she didn’t know what to do about this car. If it cost too much to repair, she wouldn’t be able to afford to have it seen to.

Once again, Joss came out to help her.

‘I’m so sorry to trouble you again.’

‘It’s no trouble, because I’m not a mechanic. That car of yours seems terminally ill to me. Mind if I fetch someone up from the village to have a quick look at it? Giff’s semi-retired but he still repairs and services cars for people, as long as they’re not major jobs.’

‘Would you?’

‘I’ll stroll down to see him now. I could do with a brisk walk.’

‘I could too, but that’s impossible with a small child.’ She glanced down at her son, smiling involuntarily. ‘But Ned’s worth it.’

‘I’ll just lock up then I’ll be off.’

Like her, he was always careful about locking up. She watched him stride down the track that connected the group of four houses with the rest of the world, before going back inside. She was going through the contents of the front room today.

A quarter of an hour later a van turned into the parking area, and Joss got out, followed by a rather large man in stained overalls.

‘We have to go outside,’ she told Ned.

‘Don’t want to. Want to draw.’

‘You can draw after we come back. Joss is outside.’

Ned immediately got down from his chair and ran towards the front door, fumbling at it, but not able to turn the key.

She opened it for him, holding his hand firmly, even though he squirmed, then went out to meet the mechanic.

‘Giff, this is Libby, Rose’s granddaughter.’

‘Pleased to meet you. I won’t shake hands, love, because mine are filthy.’

‘And this is Ned.’

Giff beamed at the child. ‘Fine young fellow. Rose would have loved him. Now, let’s have a look at this car of yours.’

She handed over the keys and he bent over the motor.

Joss moved closer and whispered, ‘I took your name in vain and promised him a piece of chocolate cake and a big mug of strong tea. His wife died last year and he misses her greatly. She was an excellent cook.’