CHILDHUNT: A Mystery & Suspense Thriller in the Bestselling Diana Rivers Series (The Diana Rivers Mysteries Book 5) (3 page)

BOOK: CHILDHUNT: A Mystery & Suspense Thriller in the Bestselling Diana Rivers Series (The Diana Rivers Mysteries Book 5)
3.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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Steve nodded. “You’re right. From us, you can see their house and garden but not all these trees in the dip.”

Diana shivered and blew on her fingertips. The cold had brought colour to her face, and her cheeks looked pink and fresh. “It’s actually a bit creepy down here. Perhaps it’s because it’s so dark and dismal today. Okay, let’s scoot up there and ask them. I promise we won’t stay out any longer than necessary. Your idea of a film on the telly is sounding better every minute.”

The house they approached was a modern villa typical of the island. Diana thought back to when Debbie and William had first arrived and realised she had never seen anyone else visit the house apart from another neighbour, Roger, who left a newspaper in their mailbox on most Saturdays and some eggs from the chickens he kept. She found the whole set-up mystifying.

Steve reached up and pressed the button for the bell on the front door. They heard it echoing throughout the house followed by a child’s call. Diana stared at the holly wreath pinned to the wooden door; it was made with artificial holly, real pine cones and a brightly coloured tartan bow and ribbon which fluttered in the breeze.

She could hear footsteps approaching and smiled as the door was flung open.

 

 

Chapter 4

Debbie leaned against the door frame, watching her children playing. Charlie enjoyed painting and told his mother the current masterpiece was a picture of Santa with all his reindeer. He had certainly captured a likeness of the rotund white-bearded old fellow with a large sack on his shoulder, but the reindeer resembled a cross between long-legged elk hounds and cattle. She smiled fondly at her older child. With his mid-brown hair and hazelnut eyes, he was almost a replica of his father, William.  Just then Hannah looked up from her Lego and gave her a dazzling smile.

“I’m building a houth wiv a chimney, tho Farver Cwithmuth can vithit it. Do you like it, Mummy? Look, thee it?” she lisped.

Debbie leaned forward, her short blonde hair shining as it caught the light above her. “It’s lovely, darling. I’m sure Father Christmas will definitely visit the children in that house.” She caught Charlie’s eye with a conspiring wink before taking a sip from her cup of coffee.

William had already kissed his family goodbye before leaving for work that morning. Dragging a woollen jacket on over his shirt and tie, he said he would much rather have stayed at home in the warm. He worked in Limassol for a finance company named De Vere and dealt mainly with their large contingent of ex-pat customers. He tousled Charlie’s hair and promised to play football with him on his return that evening, if he got home early enough, and gave Hannah her customary toss up in the air making her squeal with delight.

“Be good for Mummy, you two,” he said as he made for the kitchen door. Debbie followed him, giving him her usual slightly hesitant smile. William paused and draped an arm
around her shoulders. “You look a bit peaky this morning, darling. Take it easy and don’t do too much.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “Try and make it home early if you can. Charlie looks forward to you playing with him.”

William hugged her close and kissed her cool cheek. “I’m trying to wind everything up before the Christmas holiday, so it’ll be tight, but I’ll see. Debbie, will you please have another think about Diana and Steve’s invitation? Diana said it was only going to be us, Roger, and a couple of friends from England. It’s hardly going to be arduous.”

He watched as the colour drained from her face.

“Will…no.’ Debbie’s voice was low and appealing.

“Yes,” he whispered, lest the children overheard. “Remember, you promised that you would make an effort. It’s been six years…you have to make a start.”

Debbie felt sick as she listened to his words. She had agreed, and she knew it was time to try and start afresh. At first she had been completely withdrawn, but earlier in the year, she finally began to talk about them. “Everything about that time is so hazy…I can’t even see their faces clearly. They’d be so much bigger now…nine and eleven, no longer babies. I try to imagine how they’d look, but it’s so muddled. I can’t get the nightmare from my mind,” she murmured.

William held her tightly in his arms. “Darling, it’s okay. It’s only natural for you to feel like that. But it’s time to put all those thoughts behind you. Please, for the sake of our family, stop wondering how it happened.”

That morning, Debbie looked up at her husband and heard the cajoling words. She knew he was being both protective and strong. “I’ll think about it,” she whispered.

William smiled. “Good girl. Now I’d better be off down the hill before I’m late. There are bound to be some idiotic drivers out, who can’t handle their vehicles in this weather, and an accident before I reach Limassol is a foregone conclusion.” He kissed her, feeling her lips tremble under his. He wondered if he had upset her about the lousy drivers or about being more sociable. As he opened the door and felt the cold creep inside, he paused as some instinct made him want to stay at home in the warmth and safety of his family. Shaking the feeling aside, William got into his car, reversed it onto the drive and with a quick wave left for work.

Debbie closed the door behind him and returned to the cosy kitchen where the children were.
He’s right
, she thought as she made herself a fresh cup of tea. It was time to forget the past. She had to make an effort to stop remembering and look forward to a bright and happy future with her new family.

She stood and watched her children while she savoured the hot drink. They were her entire being. But she still returned to that dreadful period in her life and knew a part of her was still frozen. Over the years, her body provided a safety net, where a section of her mind helped her to reject the painful memories. She thought about her past life with Claude and how most of it was veiled with distortion. Debbie had to really think hard about where they lived during that time. She could only vaguely recall the small house in the quiet leafy lane. Claude’s face was a blur and thought she sometimes heard his voice; it was a soft voice, quiet yet confident. Sally and Stuart…my, God, what did they look like? A chill gripped her heart as she fought to remember. They were dark-haired like both their parents, and Sally had inherited her mother’s soft curls. They framed her tiny little elfin-shaped face. They were quiet children—she remembered that.
They were well-behaved and never raised their voices. Was it she who insisted they played quietly? She thought back to when they played in the house. Was it a figment of her imagination that they were quiet and subdued at all times? Had she affected them in some way?

She gave herself a mental shake. Six years was a long time…William was right. It was time to look ahead. Debbie glanced around at her house. She really did like living there in Cyprus. Despite being anti-social and living an almost hermitic existence, the long sunny days from April to November were beneficial. Even the other months saw many weeks of calm and warm weather. The house was simple, and Debbie did her best to make it cheerful and welcoming for the family. There was a large typical fireplace in the living room, William had partly covered the floor in wood, and the fabric on the furniture was colourful and vibrant. They didn’t have an abundance of money, but they were comfortably off, and Debbie didn’t have to go out to work.

She
would
make the effort and accept Diana and Steve’s invitation. After sorting out the children and doing a few jobs around the house, she would telephone and accept. If it hadn’t been so cold, she could have walked the children up to the village; maybe she should. With scarves, coats, and gloves, they would be fine. Her thoughts turned to their neighbours. Steve was always courteous whenever they bumped into each other, and Diana was very friendly. They were both older than William and herself, but she realised she did need some friends. Who knew…it might be fun spending time over a coffee having a girly chat. It had been years since she last did that. The only other person Debbie spoke to in the area was Roger, and that was sporadic.

“What are you thinking, Mummy?” asked Charlie as he laid down his painting brush. “You look worried or sad.”

Debbie placed her empty teacup on the sink drainer and shook her head. “I’m not sad, little chicken. I was thinking it’s about time we started lessons for today.”

Charlie pulled a face and Hannah giggled. “Charlie doethn’t like maffs.” She laughed as she squirmed round in her seat to look at her mother.

“Wait until you have to do them! You’ll be useless,” he answered.

“Shan’t,” she shouted, poking out her tongue.

“Children! That’s not nice, Hannah. Say sorry to your brother, and Charlie, stop trying to wind her up.”

Both children muttered ‘sorry’ but looked miserable. Debbie sighed. “Tell you what. Why don’t you put your paints and things away now? It’s almost time for your break outside, and it’s not actually raining or sleeting at the moment. Afterwards, if you’re good, we’ll start on that new reading book.”

“Yeah!” they chorused and hurried to do as they were told.

“Are you sure Farver Cwithmuth will find us here?” Hannah looked sick with worry as she placed her Lego back into the toy box.

Debbie took pity on her tiny daughter, scooped her up in her arms and hugged her fiercely. She smelt of cereal, plastic Lego and Charlie’s paint, which had somehow ended up covering her elbows. Hannah’s long dark curls were a mass around her face, and Debbie knew it wouldn’t take long before more people asked her where she got them from. It took a lot of work to keep her own dyed blonde hair looking natural, but Debbie was terrified that if she grew it out, she would be recognised. She gave Hannah a big kiss before putting her down.

“Okay, kids, have you finished? Then let’s get your coats on. You can have a play while I vacuum the house, and I’ll be ready with the book.”

“Can we have a gingerbread man with our milk, please?” Charlie asked in a wheedling voice. Debbie ruffled his hair, and her heart felt it would burst with love as she studied her two small children. The three of them had made the gingerbread men earlier in the week. Charlie had used the sharp cutter—Hannah was too small, he said—and his little sister had decorated each biscuit with pink icing for a coat and silver balls for buttons. When they were dry, Debbie made holes and threaded cotton into loops so that they could hang them on the Christmas tree. Hannah was enchanted with the little men and clapped her hands in excitement. As a treat, Debbie allowed the children a biscuit with their morning milk.

“Of course. Would you like it now or when you come back indoors?” she asked.

“Now!”

“Please.”

“Sorry, Mummy, please!” They laughed. Debbie let them choose one each from the tree while she poured milk into beakers. When they were ready, she dressed them in coats, scarves and hats. She noticed Hannah hadn’t finished her gingerbread man and was putting it into her pocket along with the pretty-coloured tinfoil face mask Diana had given her that week.

“I’m thaving him for later,” she explained. “Mr Gingerbread man can come out to play wiv Charlie and me firtht.”

“Be careful with that mask, Hannah, you don’t want to tear it.”

Hannah shook her head. “I won’t, Mummy. Wasn’t it nice of that lady giving it to me?”

“She was very kind. And please don’t mess up your coat with that biscuit.”

Charlie looked at his sister with interest, and Debbie knew he would try to cajole a bite of her gingerbread man later on. He stuck his hands in his pockets and pulled out an assortment of bits and pieces; a piece of string, three blue marbles, a large bolt with washer and a two-pound coin. He grinned at his sister and replaced all his treasures one by one.

“Where did you get that coin?” Debbie asked, while re-buttoning Hannah’s coat up properly.

“I found it yesterday. It was on the drive down by the gates. Is it okay if I keep it? I can buy you and Daddy and Hannah presents with it.” He looked anxious as if he had done the wrong thing not telling his mother about his find.

Debbie smiled and nodded. “Yes, you can, after we’ve checked that Daddy didn’t drop it yesterday.”

Charlie looked pleased. “I know it’s not Daddy’s because I’ve already asked him. He said he didn’t have any change on him because he used it all when he paid for his parking.”

Debbie paused. She had no reason to doubt her son; he had never taken any money from her change pot before, as far as she knew. But she wanted her children to grow up being honest, and taking from the family could have led to worse things. Watching his wide smile and open face, she decided he was telling the truth; he had indeed found the coin as he said. She didn’t have the heart to tell him he couldn’t spend it there, where the euro was legal tender. It looked an odd coin too—different from the usual two-pound coin in circulation back in Britain. “That’s fine, then. Right, if you’re ready, scoot! And Charlie?”

“Yes, Mummy?”

“Make sure you play nicely with Hannah. I don’t want any tears.”

“I will.”

“And look after her. Make sure she keeps her hat and mitts on because she’s a bit snuffly. She may be coming down with that same nasty cold you had last week.  And please don’t push her too high on the swing…you know she gets frightened.”

Charlie looked towards his sister who stared back at him in consternation as he grinned at her.

BOOK: CHILDHUNT: A Mystery & Suspense Thriller in the Bestselling Diana Rivers Series (The Diana Rivers Mysteries Book 5)
3.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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