Love Is a Secret (32 page)

56

‘PRIVATE.’ Mark opened the envelope next to his computer, with Florrie’s writing on the front. Then, following his daughter’s instructions, he logged on to his son’s account, feeling slightly guilty at invading his privacy.

. . . Everyone else at school thinks you’re a waste of space. That’s why no one wants to sit next to you. My dad thinks people like you should go back to their own country.

Stunned, he read the message twice, then picked up the phone to the headmaster of Coneywood. Then he went downstairs to find his son and tell him exactly what he’d done.

‘You read my messages and texts?’ Freddy pushed him away fiercely. ‘You wanker! You had no right.’

‘Don’t call me that, Freddy.’ He tried drawing his son to him. ‘There are times when we all do things we shouldn’t because we’re trying to help. Why didn’t you tell me things had got so bad?’

Freddy was almost spitting with fury. ‘Because you’d have thought I was a wimp. Like you did at the pool.’

‘But I didn’t. And I don’t.’ Mark pulled his son into a bear-hug. ‘Bullies like this kid at school have got to be sorted. Otherwise they’ll go on picking on others. I’ve talked to your head – no, don’t look like that. I had to. And if he doesn’t put an end to it, we’ll go to the governors.’

‘I don’t want to go back to school.’ Freddy was pulling away from him. ‘They’ll get me, now you’ve told.’

Mark felt a prickle of alarm. ‘I won’t let them.’

‘Really? How are you going to stop them?’

57

If something had happened to Annabel, Caroline told herself, as she got off the tube, the family would break up. She couldn’t pretend any more. She would divorce Roger and make a new start with Georgie. Ben would be gone soon so it would be just the two of them.

Annabel. Oh, Lord, Annabel, where
are
you?

Roger was sitting by the phone. He looked up expectantly. ‘Any news?’

‘You’re the one who’s been at home.’

‘Have you rung your sister?’

‘Yes. Nothing. But Diana says the
Morning Herald
will run a piece tomorrow.’

‘Right.’

He might have been talking about the weather – she wanted to kick him into admitting his feelings.

‘Where’s Georgie?’

‘Upstairs, doing her homework. Ben’s online.’

Caroline went upstairs. As usual, Ben was on Facebook. ‘Have you checked our messages?’

‘Nothing. Chill out, Mum. She’s probably stopped off somewhere with friends.’

‘Please get off, Ben.
Now.
I want to look for myself.’

Stretching, he got off the seat languidly. He seemed thinner than usual, and spottier. ‘You’re seriously stressy, Mum. It’s not good for you. Is dinner ready? I’m starving.’

‘How can you think of dinner when—’

‘Caro!’
Roger was pounding up the stairs. ‘It’s Annabel.’ He held out his mobile.

She took it. ‘Where have you been? Are you all right?’

Her daughter’s voice faded in and out. A bad line or was she ill?

‘Oh, Mum, it’s so good to hear you. We were on a bus that broke down and my new mobile ran out of battery. We were going to get the train but missed it. That’s why we got the bus. I didn’t know about the crash until I rang Auntie Janie on her mobile. Mum, I’m so sorry.’

Caroline tried to talk but her throat was dry and nothing would come out.

‘Mum? You still there? Don’t be angry. The bus was stuck in a rainforest for nearly five days until someone drove past and gave us a lift.’

‘Did you have any food?’ she managed.

‘Not much. We were starving. Luckily, we had a few water bottles between us. But, Mum, it’s so awful. I knew some of those people on the train. We’d met them in the hostel in Darwin. I can’t believe they’re dead . . .’

Gulping sobs came down the line and it was all Caroline could do to hold back her own tears. ‘Darling, I know it’s terrible and I’m so sorry, but thank God you’re safe. Where are you now?’

‘Getting another bus with some friends I met on the first one. Auntie Janie’s flying back to Sydney from Queensland. I’m dying for a bath.’

Caroline was shaking with relief. ‘I love you, darling. Here’s your dad. And Georgie. Stop it, Georgie. You can talk in a minute. She’s been really worried about you, Bella. We all have . . .’

The tears were gushing out now and she sank down on to the computer chair, unable to stop. Roger was taking the phone downstairs, followed by Georgie. Annabel was safe. Her daughter was alive. They wouldn’t be going to Australia now but so what if they lost the money for the tickets? The relief was agonising. How would the parents of those poor gap-year kids cope when they didn’t come home?

It took her a while to compose herself. Lifting her head to turn off the computer, she froze. The message must have popped up during the phone call because it certainly hadn’t been there before.

From Beware to Part Time Mum: I know what you’ve been doing. I know about your affair. And if you don’t stop now, I’ll tell your family.

Caroline stared at the message, frozen, unable to move. How could anyone know? Jeff? He’d helped her with her computer the other month. He knew her password. But surely not. Ginny? She might have suspected something after the ball. One of the children?

From: Caroline Crawford

To: Mark Summers

Have just got this. What shall we do?

58

From Lawyer Mum to What Mums Know: There’s only one way to treat bullies. Send their parents a letter, declaring you’re taking legal action.

‘I tried to ring you to say I’d got the same message,’ said Mark. They were sitting on a bench in the gardens outside the Savoy. It was cold and not as private as he had hoped but she’d suggested it as a place where, hopefully, they wouldn’t be spotted. He reached into his jacket pocket and handed her the message printout.

She scanned it, shivering. ‘Who could know about us? We’ve been so careful.’

‘Someone must have hacked into our computers.’

‘But why bother with us? And what do they want? They haven’t mentioned money.’

Mark put his arm round her and, to his relief, she leaned into him.

‘I emailed
What Mums Know
to see if anyone else has had problems,’ he said. ‘You’ll never guess who it’s run by?’

‘Who?’ she asked.

‘Earth Mother.’

He loved it when she smiled like that. ‘No wonder she dominates the message board. I suppose she’s a bored mother of three.’

‘Actually, she’s an ex-midwife with six kids and lots of grandchildren. Highly intelligent. She sent me her personal email address to “talk”; and she was as shocked as I was.’

She was worried now. ‘You didn’t tell her the exact content of the message?’

‘No. I just said we had both been threatened by someone who had clearly logged into some of our personal stuff. She also said something rather interesting.’

‘What?’ Caroline frowned.

He stroked her hair, nuzzling it at the same time and breathing in her scent.

‘She’s concerned about that strange woman who calls herself “Expectent” Mum. Did you read that message about her going into labour? No, of course you didn’t with everything that’s been happening. Earth Mother says she’s been concerned about the girl – presuming it
is
a girl – for some time. And she also pointed out that no one’s found that missing baby from Northampton yet.’

‘Sounds a bit far-fetched to me.’

‘Maybe. Anyway, she suggested, and I agree, that we ignore our blackmailer’s messages and see if they’re a one-off. If they continue, we’ll have to do something about it.’

‘Like what?’

Mark was rubbing his nose against hers. The action seemed so natural – childlike yet grown-up. ‘Not sure. Get expert advice, that sort of thing. God, Caroline, what do you do to me? I’ve never felt like this before.’

‘Nor me. But I can tell you that when Annabel was missing, nothing else seemed important.’ She sat up and a chill went through him. ‘I’ve got to put the kids first, Mark. I can’t do anything stupid.’

‘I’m not asking you to.’

‘And I don’t do meaningless affairs either.’ Her eyes were serious. ‘For me, it’s all or nothing.’

‘I’m the same.’ He spoke so quietly that he could barely hear himself.

‘Then what are we going to do?’

Suddenly, all his excitement at being with her left him. ‘I don’t know.’ He looked away. ‘There’s something else. Something I need to tell you. They want Hilary to come home next weekend to see how she copes.’

‘But the children think she’s in America.’

‘I know. We – that’s my mother-in-law and I – have concocted some story about her coming back for a visit.’

‘I see.’

‘Don’t be like that.’ He took her hand. ‘I don’t want her back, but what else can I do? If you could see that place, you’d realise how awful it is for her.’

She squeezed his knee. ‘Awful for you, too. And what about the knife business? Aren’t they scared she’ll do it again if she’s at home?’

‘Exactly what I asked. But they think it was a reaction to being away.’ Mark scratched his chin. ‘God, it’s too much sometimes. I’ve got to get Freddy to this educational psychologist tomorrow – we’ve had to wait ages for the appointment. In the meantime, I’ve kept him off school and he’s with Daphne. A cop-out, I know, but he was scared of going back after I complained. This kid who bullied him . . . From what the head said, he’s very mixed-up and it reminded me of my own experiences.’

She brushed his lips with hers. Just feeling her body against his dispelled all the pain and angst over Freddy. Suddenly he was filled with a childish desire to grasp her round the waist, lift her into the air, and twirl her round like a 1950s starlet.

‘Mark!’

Gently, he lowered her to the ground.

She was panting, eyes shining, laughing breathlessly. ‘Do you always take people by surprise like that?’

‘No.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Only very special ones.’

‘And am I?’

‘You know you are.’

‘I don’t remember the last time I laughed like that.’

‘Me neither.’ He felt young, light-headed – despite the worry over that awful message. Like a grown-up Freddy. So this was what love was like. And to think it had taken him more than forty years to find it . . .

The educational psychologist was a short, squat man who rocked back and forth in his chair and charged a monstrous £350 for a two-hour session and a written report. For his part Freddy had to fill  in a chart and answer several questions while Mark sat outside. He was brought in while Freddy had squash and biscuits in reception.

‘In my opinion, Mr Summers, your son kicks other children because he misses his mother and is being bullied.’

‘I know that.’

‘So, what are you going to do about it?’

‘I thought that was what you were here to tell me.’

‘Mr Summers, we can only advise. You say you’ve been to see the head and he’s failed to resolve the situation, even though this bullying has been going on for several months. On top of this, you tell me Freddy and his sister think their mother is in America while in fact she’s in prison. No, don’t worry. Your son cannot hear me. Do you know what I’d do, if I were you?’

This had better be worth £350.

‘First I’d consider a change of school. Clearly the new one isn’t working for Freddy. And I’d tell the children the truth about their mother because they’re picking up vibes that indicate you’re hiding something. Children are often stronger than you think but they feel insecure if they suspect they’re being lied to.’

‘That’s what Caroline said,’ murmured Mark.

‘Well, I don’t know who Caroline is but she’s obviously thinking along the same lines. One more thing, Mr Summers.’ He leaned towards Mark. ‘I know we’re here about your son but here’s a bit of psychological advice for you. When your wife is finally released, don’t feel you have to be a martyr for the rest of your life. People change. And sometimes you have to do things you didn’t think you were capable of.’

The message was waiting when he returned.

From Beware to Mimi: If you don’t stop seeing Caroline now, I’ll tell her husband and your wife.

He rang her mobile immediately.

‘I’ve got one too.’ Caroline sounded choked. ‘Can’t we
do
something?’

He tried to think. ‘I don’t want to bring the police into this. Leave it with me. I’ll think of something.’

‘I’m going to tell Roger.’ Her voice was scared, uncertain. ‘I can’t stand the deceit anyway.’

‘Wait. Don’t do anything until we’ve talked about this a bit more.’

‘Cooeee! It’s only me.’

‘Caroline, I’ve got to go – Daphne’s arrived. I’ll call. Soon.’

‘Hello, dear.’ His mother-in-law didn’t normally come into his study. He closed down his pc as she puffed her way past the files on the floor.

‘Daphne, this computer class you’ve been going to, have you got the tutor’s number?’

‘Somewhere.’ She fished in her handbag. ‘Ah, here’s the brochure. That’s him at the bottom. Peter Greaves. Thinking of doing one yourself, dear?’

‘No. I want to ask him something.’

‘Everything ready for Hilary?’

‘Sort of. I’m collecting her tomorrow afternoon. Listen, Daphne, we should tell the kids. They’re not stupid – if we don’t they’ll want to see her off at the airport.’

Daphne frowned. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let’s see how the weekend goes, shall we?’

Peter Greaves was very helpful even though he was too busy to come round in person. ‘You'd need to find out the internet service provider that this Beware person is with. Each pc is issued with a personal number and they have ways of tracing them. It’s worth a bash.’

And it might be if he knew where to start. He could pass on the information to Earth Mother, but Mark had to go or he’d be late for collecting the kids.

He picked up Hilary on Friday afternoon. It seemed weird, taking her away with him, instead of saying goodbye in the visitors’ centre. She said nothing all the way home, just stared out of the window as though she had never seen streets and shops before.

Her eyes were huge, the pupils black. In his jacket pocket, he had her pills with instructions on what to give her and when.

‘Mum! When did you get back? We wanted to meet you at the airport but Dad wouldn’t let us.’ Florrie flew into her arms. Freddy hung back until Hilary, her face white, stretched out a hand to him.

‘Mum’s really tired, dears. Let her sit down. Would you like a nice cup of tea?’

Hilary disentangled herself from her daughter’s embrace. ‘Thank you.’ Her eyes never left the children as they moved away from her and sat at the table.

‘Go on, then,’ said Daphne, producing a plate of teacakes. ‘Tell your mum what’s been happening.’

‘I’m going to a party next weekend,’ said Florrie, excitedly. ‘Yes, I
am
, Freddy. Dad said I could as long as there was an adult there. And Freddy’s still pushing other kids around because he’s being bullied.’

‘Why is he being bullied?’ Hilary’s voice sounded different: thin, wobbly and permanently alarmed.

‘Nothing in particular.’ Mark forced himself to lay a hand reassuringly on hers. ‘You know what kids are like.’

‘It’s because he’s black, isn’t it, Freddy?’

‘Of course it’s not, dear,’ butted in Daphne. ‘Now, you’re not to worry about any of this, Hilary. Mark’s sorting it out with the head, aren’t you?’

Later, they spent the evening trying to watch television like a normal family. Hilary was glued to the screen as though she hadn’t seen it before and, perhaps because he’d given her one of the tablets, was almost oblivious to the children. He’d been dreading bedtime but, to his relief, when she came out of the bathroom she was already in her pyjamas – a shapeless grey pair he hadn’t seen before. He took care to take his own into the bathroom with him, and when he finally clambered into bed she was asleep.

What was it that the educational psychologist had said? Don’t be a martyr. But weren’t there times when you had to be?

Eventually Mark fell into an uneasy sleep with thoughts of Hilary and Beware whirling around in his mind.

During the night, he woke. He could feel Hilary’s breath on his face. ‘Mark?’ She sounded more coherent than she had last night.

‘Yes?’

He could feel her hand stroking his pyjamas.

‘Mark, make love to me.’

Every bone in his body recoiled. Forcing himself, he put his arm round her shoulders, drawing her to him, feeling her hand creeping downwards. This was awful.

When she reached him, he heard her sigh. ‘You don’t want me.’

‘It’s not that. I’m tired.’

‘You’re soft,’ she spat accusingly, just as she had before she’d gone away.

Why pretend any more? ‘Yes, I am.’

‘Which means you don’t want me.’

She rolled away from him.

‘Let’s just give it time, Hilary, shall we?’

A low, ironic, empty laugh. ‘Exactly what I have been doing. Good night, Mark.’

When he woke the following morning, she wasn’t next to him. His first reaction was relief, the second panic.

It was early and still dark outside so he padded barefoot along the landing looking for her, not wanting to disturb the children, who were still asleep.

There were sounds coming from his study. Heck, she was on his computer! Her face was grim and set as she started at the screen. To his horror, he saw she was logged on to the message board of
What Mums Know
.

‘What on earth possessed you to join this?’ she asked, in the disdainful manner he had become used to before she had gone to prison.

‘I haven’t.’

‘Then why are your password and username on the noticeboard?’ She glanced up at the cork squares he had pinned behind his computer to display vital information like his computer helpline number.

‘Mimi,’ she sneered. ‘Quite a memorable username. I suppose you chat up other women to get your thrills while I’m away.’