The Cornish Guest House (39 page)

As they talked, Liz watched while her friend skilfully smoothed and squeezed the wet lump of clay into a graceful shape on the wheel.

‘Have you thought of any names for the baby?’ Esme asked, dipping her hands into the mucky water bowl at her side and giving them a shake before resuming her task.

‘Not yet.’

‘Any idea whether it’s a boy or girl?’

Esme was childless herself, but had enough female friends to know that mothers-to-be liked nothing more than a ‘guess the sex’ chat.

‘No,’ Liz replied.

Esme peered at her friend over the top of the small, round glasses balanced on the end of her thin nose. Nothing much slipped her notice.

‘Are you all right? You seem rather glum.’

Liz attempted a smile. ‘Fine, you know, just the usual.’

She pointed to a wide, shallow bowl that was drying on the side. ‘I like that one. I’d fill it with fruit and have it in the middle of the table.’

‘You can tell me,’ Esme persisted kindly.

Liz fixed her with burning brown eyes. ‘Do
you
think Jesse’s done something to Loveday? Do you think he’s capable of it?’

Esme paused. ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to believe it but…’

Liz pushed herself up to standing. She shouldn’t have come; it was a big mistake. ‘You, Robert, the whole village practically, except Pat. What’s the matter with you? I think you’ve all gone mad.’

‘Liz? Luke thinks—’

Liz held up a hand to stop her friend and stalked out of the studio before she could finish. She felt as if she were inhabiting a parallel universe, the only one who could see things as they really were. She’d rather live here, however, than occupy the same space as the doubters, who listened more to the opinions of someone they hardly knew than to their own hearts. Esme, too. Liz had expected better.

*

Tabitha gasped again, scarcely able to believe her eyes. It was what she’d hoped for, longed for, but had feared might never come to pass. Yet here she was, standing right in front of her, as real as the waitress, as real as Oscar and Tabitha herself. It was undeniably true, she wasn’t hallucinating. The girl before her was most definitely Loveday.

‘What are you doing here?’ Loveday repeated, but there was no time to reply because in a flash Oscar shoved the table out of the way, knocking over his glass of orange juice, and ran towards his former nanny, who opened her arms and swung him high before squeezing him tight against her chest, burying her face in his soft curly hair and bursting into tears.

‘He’s happy,’ the waitress said uncertainly, and Tabitha welled up, too. It was as if all the fear, worry and strain that she’d been holding on to surged like water from a dam, and her whole body shook with the sheer force of it.

Oscar, concerned, shouted, ‘Mamma!’ but she couldn’t see him through her crying. It was only when Loveday sat beside her, whispering, ‘It’s OK, don’t be upset,’ and her soft, Cornish accent filtered through, that reality sank in and Tabitha perceived the truth at last in all its glorious Technicolor: Loveday wasn’t dead, she hadn’t been murdered. She was here, alive and well, and, whatever the reason for her flight, whatever dreadful thing had happened to make her do it, this was all that mattered.

‘Thank God you’re safe,’ Tabitha kept saying, over and over. ‘I can’t believe it.’ She held the girl’s face between in her hands, examining her eyes, her nose, her mouth, all there and in the right places, before wrapping her arms tight around her body. She needed to feel the warmth of her living breathing presence for confirmation, to sense the beating of her heart. ‘It’s a dream come true.’

Oscar wormed his way between them and Loveday hugged them both back. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want to frighten you, you don’t understand.’ But Tabitha scarcely heard. Explanations could wait, right now she wasn’t interested. Her only focus was the here and now, the fact that the nightmare scenarios she’d conjured in her brain were at an end at last.

When they’d finally calmed down enough to speak properly, Loveday whispered something to the waitress, who moved away discreetly. Tabitha hadn’t even realised that she’d been standing there; she must be quite bemused.

‘I’m supposed to be working but there’s no customers so we’ve got a few minutes,’ Loveday whispered urgently. ‘You know you shouldn’t of come… you should of left me alone.’

The waitress came back briefly to give Oscar another drink, and Tabitha pretended not to notice while he shredded cardboard coasters and fished cubes of ice out of his juice, smearing them on the table until they turned into messy puddles.

‘You have to tell me everything quickly,’ she said gravely. ‘You know the police are looking for you, don’t you?’

Loveday nodded. ‘I guessed.’

‘And you’re aware they think Jesse’s got something to do with it?’

The younger girl’s eyes widened. ‘Jesse? No!’

‘There’s a massive search going on. They think you might have been murdered.’

Loveday lowered her eyes and chewed a fingernail. ‘I’ve been avoiding the telly. I told Demi I don’t want to know. I made her swear she wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone.’

Tabitha explained briefly about the toy dragon, and how Jesse had been arrested. ‘Everyone thinks he’s guilty – including Luke.’

She watched Loveday carefully and at the mention of his name her left eye twitched and she swallowed nervously.

‘I told the driver to stop at the top of the hill and pretended to post a letter while I threw the dragon away. It reminded me too much of home.’ There was a catch in her voice. ‘Luke knows perfectly well Jesse’s got nothing to do with it.’

So. Tabitha took a deep breath and drew herself up. It was all the confirmation that she needed; now she knew for sure.

‘What’s Luke been doing?’ she asked quietly, and Loveday glanced at her, frightened and mistrustful.

‘You mean you don’t know? You’re kidding me!’

Tabitha shook her head. ‘He tells me very little, but I guessed he was into something bad, something big.’

Loveday had been unable to disguise her delight at seeing her friend again, but now the joy evaporated and she shuffled away a few inches, her eyes narrowed.

‘If that’s true, why didn’t you stop him? Why didn’t you call the police?’

Tabitha felt the blood drain from her temples, her face; she was ashamed of what she was about to admit. ‘I’m afraid of Luke. I’m terrified of what he might do.’

Loveday laughed uneasily. ‘You’re scared of your own husband? Come on! Do you really expect me to believe that?’

‘I’m married to him and I hate him.’ Tabitha was startled by the venom in her own voice. ‘It’s a long story,’ she went on, aware that she needed to convince Loveday, and there wasn’t much time. ‘Luke rescued me from a bad situation, a violent man who’s out to get me, and I’m frightened for Oscar, too. All the while that man’s around I felt I couldn’t leave Luke, I couldn’t say anything.’ She bit her lip. ‘I know it’s wrong, but Oscar’s my priority, don’t you see? If something happened to him…’ She shuddered.

‘Jeez,’ said Loveday, struggling to take it all in. ‘You were happy enough to throw me to the dogs, though. You’ve ruined my life.’

Tabitha explained that she hadn’t wanted Luke to employ her, or any of the villagers, come to that.

‘Why would I believe you, after everything that’s happened? Why would I trust anything you say?’

‘It’s true,’ Tabitha said urgently, ‘every word. I’ll tell you everything, but first we need to leave here, before Luke finds us.’

Loveday glanced left and right anxiously, as if expecting him to jump from the shadows and grab her.

‘I want to help you,’ Tabitha went on, sensing her doubt. ‘We’ll go home and sort this out.’

Loveday gripped the edge of the table, ready to bolt. ‘No! I’ll go to prison. Luke might hurt Jesse or my family. I’d rather die.’

‘Wait!’ said Tabitha, grabbing her arm as she started to rise. ‘I won’t let that happen, I swear. Just tell me what you know.’

Loveday paused for a moment and Oscar climbed over his mother to sit on his former nanny’s lap, as if sensing that she needed reassurance.

‘I’ve missed you so much, little man,’ she said, softening, and it seemed at that moment as if the last of her defences crumbled and she took a deep breath and started to recount her tale: the so-called financial services business in Plymouth; Ahmed and Sam, always on their phones in other rooms with the doors shut; the ‘helpline’; the moment when she’d realised that Pat had been scammed by the very people she’d been working for.

‘I thought I was doing everyone a favour, putting their money somewhere safe, but who’d believe me? No one. I’ve been a stupid idiot and I’ll never forgive myself.’

She wrapped her arms round Oscar and rocked him to and fro as if to comfort him, whereas in reality she was the one who needed consoling.

Tabitha, who had been listening quietly, could contain herself no longer.

‘He’s wicked,’ she said passionately, ‘rotten to the core. Even I wouldn’t have believed he’d steal from old folk. It’s not you who’s at fault, I can assure you.’

Two thirty-something men walked up to the bar and eyed Tabitha and Loveday oddly. They were casually dressed in jogging bottoms and trainers and one had a scar on his upper lip.

‘Can we see the cocktail menu?’ he asked the waitress. It seemed a peculiar sort of request; he looked as if he’d be more at home in the local boozer.

‘I’ll just have a beer,’ said the other gruffly.

He tipped his head in Tabitha’s direction and nudged his friend, who frowned as if to shut him up.

Tabitha’s stomach lurched and she tugged Loveday’s arm, hissing in her ear, ‘We have to go.’

‘I can’t leave, I’m working.’

She pulled her arm again, more urgently this time. ‘Just do as I say – please.’

The taller of the two men glanced over his shoulder again at Loveday and muttered something to his friend.

‘Hurry!’ said Tabitha desperately. ‘Help me get Oscar in his pushchair. We need to get out of here now, before it’s too late.’

‘Where are we going?’ Loveday asked, grabbing her coat and bag. ‘I’ve told you I’m not—’

‘Hush, don’t speak. I’ll fill you in on the way.’

*

Liz frowned. It was now around 10.30 p.m. and there was still no sign of Sarah or Andy, which was most unusual. She’d tried to get in contact but their phones were on voicemail. Rosie was in bed and Robert, of course, wouldn’t be back till later, not that he’d be speaking to her anyway. She’d turned off the chicken because Rosie had eaten at Tim’s and Liz certainly didn’t fancy it on her own. It was all very peculiar.

She switched on the TV but couldn’t concentrate, and nearly jumped out of her skin when the landline rang. She was grateful to hear Sarah’s voice, but relief soon turned to puzzlement when Sarah explained that she and Andy had been summoned for a meeting with the police and would be gone overnight.

‘I’ll tell you more later,’ Sarah said, sounding strange and abrupt. ‘My phone will be off so don’t try to ring.’

The house felt weird and lonely and as Liz sat on the sofa, staring at the empty fireplace, it occurred to her that she was even more unhappy than she had been when Greg had left all those years ago. Then she’d been numb with fear and shock, wondering how she’d cope on her own, but at least any feelings that she’d once had for him had long since died. Robert, though, was a different matter, and she feared very much that, whatever he did, however far his halo slipped, she was condemned to love him till the end of time, a curse indeed.

So frightened was she by this prospect that when Rosie appeared, saying that she couldn’t sleep, Liz almost fell on her, smothering her in kisses.

‘Mu-um!’ Rosie said, flashing her funny, gappy smile. Her hair was all over the place, her pyjamas crumpled, and Liz smiled, despite everything, thinking that she looked about seven years old.

‘I’m so happy to see you, you’ve no idea.’

‘I’ve only been in bed.’ Rosie laughed, but, sensing that her mother needed comforting, went on, ‘I love you.’

Liz made hot chocolate that they drank in front of the TV. Rosie was dreadfully wide awake and curious about Robert, realising that something was up, but Liz deflected her questions with more questions about school, Tim, the website, her friends, and managed to catch up on some of the news that she’d missed in the past few, traumatic days. They’d both be tired tomorrow, but so be it.

‘Sweet dreams,’ she said to Rosie when she finally tucked her in again. ‘Would you like a song?’

Rosie was in an indulgent mood. ‘Go on, then.’

Liz sat on the edge of her bed and sang two lullabies, watching her daughter’s lips curl with pleasure and amusement.

‘Another one,’ she demanded when Liz finished, knowing that it would delight her, and she duly obliged.

Later, Liz had a bath and went to bed, wondering, as she always did now, where Loveday was at this precise time and what she was doing. She found it comforting to imagine the girl in some strange town, sitting on someone’s sofa, legs curled beneath her, discussing what to do next. Liz could almost hear her voice, explaining in her soft Cornish accent that she needed space, that she had ‘stuff to sort out’, but that she’d go home soon. She seemed so real, in Liz’s mind’s eye, so present, that she had to be alive; it was simply a case of finding her and bringing her back.

It was in this way that Liz was able to fall asleep, only waking much later when Robert tiptoed into the room and slipped in beside her. For a moment she fancied that he was sitting up, gazing at her in the dark, poised to speak, but then he burrowed beneath the covers and turned his back.

She heard him sigh and it made her sad, but she could think of no words to narrow the gap between them, so she closed her eyes once more and prayed for oblivion.

Robert left early again the next morning and there was no news from Sarah or Andy, so Liz decided to see Pat, the only adult left in the village, it seemed, who’d retained her perspective. The old woman was on considerably better form than the last time, bossing round the nurses and insulting the lady opposite, and informed Liz that she’d been told she could leave in the next couple of days, as soon as they’d completed a risk assessment of her home and confirmed that her niece would be able to stay.