Missing (44 page)

More relieved than she could express about the payment, and thankful that someone at least had apparently not seen the recent Sky broadcast, Vivienne said, ‘I’ll make sure the coffee’s on. Theo might not join us, I’ll explain when you get here.’ Then, going back to her mother, ‘That was Alice. I can pay off my mortgage arrears.’

‘Well, that’s extremely good news,’ her mother declared. ‘I’m delighted, but now getting back to—’

‘Mum, I know you mean well, but you’re making me tense when I probably don’t need to be. So please, just tell me you’re flying off to Italy tomorrow to have a good time.’

‘All right, but you know where I am …’

‘I do, and I’ll call every day while you’re away so you’ll know there’s nothing to worry about.’

‘OK,’ Linda agreed reluctantly. ‘Give Rufus a big kiss from me and tell him I miss him.’

‘Of course,’ Vivienne promised, and they both laughed as Rufus let out a jubilant shriek. ‘I think that’s his way of letting you know he’s all right,’ she said, and after ringing off she swept him up in her arms to bury her face in his fat little belly.

‘Mum, mum,’ he gurgled, clutching her hair.

‘Oh Rufus,’ she groaned with a laugh, ‘you really don’t smell too good.’

‘Mm, mm,’ he replied, dribbling down his chin and kicking out his legs.

‘Come on, let’s run a quick bath for us both, and once you’re all nice and fresh you can watch a cartoon while you have your breakfast.’

It was turning into such a beautiful autumn morning that the corner café on Thames Road had pushed open its large glass doors to let the sun’s warmth stream in over the round glass-topped tables and copious green foliage that spread amongst them. There were even a few customers sitting outside on the pavement, sipping coffee and reading the papers, apparently oblivious to the light flow of traffic passing by.

From where she was sitting Jacqueline could hear the sounds of a nearby playground as small children swayed back and forth on the swings, or whooped down the slides, or chased a ball. Occasionally a dog barked, or an adult shouted, and a constant twittering, warbling chorus of birdsong carried through the gently moving air. She was remembering how she used to wander parks and playgrounds in the early years, searching, longing and feeling certain that today she would find him. She’d sit on benches watching
other
women with their children, wondering what they would do if they were to lose them. Would they haunt parks and playgrounds as she did, stand outside schools and public swimming pools hoping against hope that their child would come out? Or would they manage to do what she never had and put their lives back together again? Perhaps they would feel that they could no longer continue with such a cruel partner as hope, lighting each morning with promise and darkening each night with yet more despair.

No woman could ever be the same after losing a child. Even if she were able to seal off the emptiness as though it were no longer there, and ignore the aching heart, even somehow stifle the guilt, something fundamental inside her would be gone. It was worse than losing a limb, or sight or speech, because it was as though something had been taken from every part of her. Nothing functioned the same way any more, it had neither the power nor the desire to do so, because all her senses were dulled, and each thought was tormented by a guilt that was almost as hard to bear as the loss.

Folding the paper she’d brought with her, she put it down on the table and picked up her cup. A while ago a young man had come out of Vivienne’s garage and roared away on his motorbike. He could have been Sam’s age, she’d thought, but in his helmet and leathers it had been hard to tell. Once she might have convinced herself it was Sam, but lately she’d stopped doing that. He was no longer there in every teenage boy she saw, or somewhere just out of sight if she could only find the right corner to turn. She was coming closer all the time now to realising that her world was not a place he was ever going to exist in again.

With a small, strangled sigh, she cast her mind back sixteen years to the day he was born. It was where she’d like to go now, deeply, safely into the past, pulling it up around her like a blanket, losing herself in its warmth and protection. She’d be sealed in a time when his tiny body was hers to hold, and his life was just beginning. She’d had so much to live for then, so many reasons to love and dreams to believe in. Sam’s sixteenth birthday and her fortieth had been a long way in the future, a day only to be imagined, but never like this.

She looked down at her cup. The coffee had become lukewarm, but she drank it anyway. She’d had no breakfast; food didn’t matter much to her any more. There weren’t many things left of importance, they’d faded over time along with her hopes and dreams. It was as though she was being slowly erased from the world, growing fainter and fainter, colourless, ghostlike, until soon she would be nothing at all. Even so, deep down inside her a small light continued to burn, not for her, or Sam, but for Kelsey. She’d turned away from it for years, but had never really been able to extinguish it. She recognised it now, and around it was an aura of warmth that seemed to radiate contentment and send waves of understanding into her heart.

She knew what she had to do, and wasn’t afraid of it any more. The fear had left her several days ago, but it wasn’t until she’d seen Miles with his son and Vivienne on TV this morning that she’d become fully aware of the emptiness inside her where panic had always reigned before. It had confused her at first, as though the ground had vanished from underfoot, leaving her suspended in mid-air. She should fall and crash, but for some reason she hadn’t. She had been left
staring
into the vacuum, seeing and feeling nothing until finally the darkness began to fill with words, and through the words she could see vague and distant lights.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death …
Walk through … Don’t stop … No need even to linger … Yet she’d abandoned herself in its very depths, had become so immersed in her loss and at one with the guilt that she’d long ago stopped looking for a way out. Instead, she’d tried to draw everyone in with her.

She was moving on now, though, taking tentative, but occasionally confident steps forward as the next stage of the journey became more focused in her mind. She could see Miles and Kelsey, and wanted to reassure them, but mostly she was aware of Vivienne. It was as though Vivienne had become the woman she’d once been, young, vital, burning with love and unafraid of life. She had no tragedy to hold her back, no sickened conscience to torment her. She was free and blameless, with a baby boy to adore and hold and watch grow. Jacqueline wanted to reach her, and connect with her, not to be her, but to pass on the torch that would light the way from the valley of the shadow of death. Vivienne could be trusted to carry it for Miles and Kelsey, because Vivienne was able to live and love in a way Jacqueline never could now.

Picking up a paper napkin she dabbed the corners of her mouth, then reached into her bag for her purse. She wondered if Kelsey had met her new brother yet. Rufus. It was a good name. Jacqueline liked it and hoped Kelsey did too.

Vivienne was attempting to read through the documents Angus had dropped off the night before,
while
clearing the sitting-room floor of some of Rufus’s toys, when the phone started to ring. As she reached for it she quickly put out a foot to stop an exultant Rufus from hurtling headlong out through the open French windows. ‘Careful,’ she warned. ‘You’re going too fast.’

He went down with a plop, and looked up at her with wide, indignant eyes.

‘Hello,’ she laughed into the phone.

‘It’s me,’ Miles told her. ‘Theo just rang. He’s at the house with Kelsey.’

Vivienne’s eyes closed with relief. Thank God Kelsey had still been there. ‘Is she OK?’ she asked, going to the entryphone to buzz Alice and Angus in.

‘So he says. She wouldn’t speak to me herself, but he assured me she’s agreeing to stay where she is until I get there.’

‘Where are you now?’

‘I’d say midway between Bath and Swindon, so about an hour and a half from Kensington. Do you have company? Wasn’t that the doorbell I just heard?’

‘Yes. Alice and Angus are here. We’re meeting about the auction, then we’ll probably stroll along to the City Barge for lunch.’

‘Sounds good. How’s my son today?’

Smiling down at Rufus, who was still sitting close to the windows, his little legs splayed while he chewed on the corner of a plastic brick, she said, ‘He’s on great form.’

‘Then give him a hug from me. I’ll call you again when I’m closer to London.’

‘Before you go, are you staying for the weekend, or will you take her straight back to Devon?’

‘I’ll have a better idea once I’ve spoken to her, but
she
ought to return to school on Monday. It’ll only be until Thursday, when half-term starts, but she’s missed enough time already.’

After ringing off Vivienne was about to shout down for Alice and Angus to come up when the sitting-room door opened, and to her surprise a total stranger came in. A beat later she froze in horror.

‘Oh my God,’ she murmured, moving instinctively towards Rufus, then stopping as though not to draw attention to him.

Jacqueline’s pale, piercing eyes dropped to Rufus, then came back to regard Vivienne. Her face appeared sallow in its unflattering frame of dark hair, while her mouth seemed to bleed into a feathery nimbus of lines. ‘Hello Vivienne,’ she said quietly. ‘I hope you don’t mind—’

‘What are you doing here?’ Vivienne suddenly blurted, shock reverberating through her so violently that she’d started to shake.

Jacqueline looked apologetic. ‘I had to come,’ she said. ‘I knew you wouldn’t welcome it, but since I read about you and your little boy in the papers …’ Her eyes drifted to Rufus again, who was watching her with interest.

Trying to swallow her panic, Vivienne glanced at Rufus too, then back to Jacqueline as she said, ‘I won’t stay long. I’d just like …’ She smiled awkwardly. ‘Would you mind if I sat down?’

Vivienne drew back, as though to resist. Then, hardly knowing what she was doing, she gestured towards the sofa, and watched as Jacqueline came further into the room and put her bag on the floor before perching on the edge of the cushions. She was wearing a short camel coat over black jeans and a
polo-neck
sweater, and her hair, which was hanging loosely around her collar, was obviously false.

‘Won’t you sit down too?’ she said, waving a hand towards a chair. She looked at Vivienne with eyes that seemed vacant, yet fleetingly unsure. ‘Please,’ she added.

Still in shock, Vivienne sank down on the chair’s arm, then watched in alarm as Jacqueline peeled off her wig as though it were a hat, and dropped it on the seat beside her. Beneath was her more familiar, slightly mussed blonde hair clasped, as usual, in a velvet slide. Vivienne’s eyes went back to hers, searching for a glint of malice, or anger, or worse, derangement, and found herself more unnerved than ever by the air of perfect calm.

‘You must know,’ Vivienne said, attempting to take control, ‘that everyone’s been looking for you.’

Jacqueline nodded.

‘So where have you been?’

‘Actually, not far from here.’

Vivienne’s mind was racing; she was finding it hard to think straight. ‘Why haven’t you been in touch?’ she asked. ‘Miles has been so worried.’

The corners of Jacqueline’s lips tilted upwards, as though to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

‘You seem not to believe me,’ Vivienne said.

Jacqueline still didn’t speak, only turned to look at Rufus.

With her heart in her mouth Vivienne’s eyes moved to him too, and she almost shouted in protest as he began crawling towards Jacqueline’s bag. ‘No darling, it’s not yours,’ she said, starting to get up.

‘It’s OK,’ Jacqueline said, putting up a hand to stop her. ‘He can play with it.’

‘But he might …’

‘Please, leave him. He’s just a baby, he can’t do any harm.’

Vivienne sat down again, and willed Alice and Angus to turn up right now. ‘I’m expecting some friends,’ she said, hoping it would unsettle Jacqueline enough to make her leave, but Jacqueline merely continued to watch Rufus as he beat a clumsy tattoo on her bag.

‘You know, I’ve lived in such fear of Miles having another son,’ she said softly. ‘It’s one of the reasons I couldn’t let him go. It would have seemed so wrong, so dismissive of Sam, yet now it’s happened …’ Her eyebrows rose as she shook her head in bewilderment. ‘I never needed to be afraid,’ she said, almost to herself. ‘If only I’d known.’ Then, looking at Vivienne, ‘You should take good care of him. He’s very precious.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Vivienne said hoarsely. And, clearing her throat, ‘Jacqueline, why – why are you here?’

Jacqueline’s eyes returned to Rufus. ‘It’s occurred to me a few times this past week,’ she said, not answering the question, ‘that if Sam is dead, your son could be his little spirit returned.’

Vivienne’s heart turned cold.

Jacqueline looked up and smiled sympathetically. ‘You don’t want to think that, do you?’ she said. ‘I don’t blame you, I’m sure I wouldn’t either, in your shoes.’

Vivienne said nothing. All she knew was a desperate urge to grab Rufus and run, but Jacqueline was closer to both him and the door.

‘Do you know St Anne’s, in Kew?’ Jacqueline asked.

Confused, Vivienne said, ‘Do you mean the church?’

Jacqueline nodded. ‘The clock sometimes strikes odd hours, did you realise that? Four chimes at three o’clock, or fourteen at midday. It’s all quite random. They’ve been trying to get it repaired for years, the vicar told me. I find it rather amusing, myself. It’s as though it’s out of step with the world. I keep wondering if that’s why I feel so at home there.’

Vivienne stared at her, not knowing what to say. Then the phone rang on the table behind her and she started violently.

‘Please don’t answer,’ Jacqueline said.

Vivienne’s eyes grew wider.

‘I won’t take up much of your time,’ Jacqueline promised.

They sat in silence listening to Alice’s voice chirping into the answering machine. ‘Hey, it’s me. You’re probably in the loo, or garage or somewhere. Sorry we’re not there yet. Angus got caught up with a client on the phone, and I’ve just realised I need to call in at the office on the way over, so we’ll probably be at least another half an hour to an hour. Hope that’s OK. Call me if it’s a problem, otherwise see you then. Bye.’