The Cornish Guest House (29 page)

Emptiness washed over him, followed by blind fury that made him want to punch Luke in his stupid, smarmy, grinning face, but what good would that do except break his mum’s heart? It wouldn’t bring Loveday back. He groaned, as the reality of losing her sank in. He loved that girl; he’d thought they’d grow old together.

He walked into the kitchen, dreading finding some clue there: an empty bottle of wine and two glasses? A strange pair of boxers in the washing machine? His eyes fell on a piece of paper on the worktop and beside it Loveday’s white phone in the pink case covered in gold hearts. He used to tease her, saying it was silly, but now it made him miss her more.

Picking up the paper, he focused on her big, messy, un-joined-up handwriting and tried to make sense of what was there. She’d gone to start a new life, but where, and with whom? He checked her phone, thinking it might tell him something, only to discover that she’d returned it to the manufacturer’s settings.

Anger welled up again, and hopelessness, and he banged his forehead on the worktop until his eyes stung. Then he replaced the note and, with her mobile still in his hand, wandered into the front room and slumped on the sofa.

He felt paralysed with indecision, too frightened to call anyone, not even his mum, imagining that the whole world knew she’d left him and was laughing behind his back. He wrapped his hand round the phone tightly and stroked the keys, imagining Loveday’s fingers. She was so quick, she could tap out one of her soppy messages to him in no time at all, using those silly emoticons that made him smile.

Would Luke really have left his wife and son to go away with her? And what about his business and that secret work he’d been doing that no one, not even Jesse, was allowed to ask about? A new emotion engulfed him – fear. What if she wasn’t with Luke at all and something had happened to her?

He sprang up, tucking her phone in his back pocket, left the flat and walked swiftly down Fore Street towards the harbour, looking left and right, hoping not to see anyone he knew. Further down, a chubby man in a grey suit was standing outside the empty Hole in the Wall pub, brandishing a set of keys, accompanied by a younger, taller man with a ponytail, in jeans and a khaki jacket: a potential buyer? They weren’t interested in Jesse.

His stomach lurched when he reached The Stables and he almost turned round and retraced his steps, but that would be cowardly. Taking a deep breath, he took hold of the old iron knocker and banged loudly once, twice, three times before taking a step back. He’d done it now. It wasn’t long before the heavy oak door swung open. Tabitha appeared and Jesse quickly scanned her face for evidence.

She didn’t smile, though that wasn’t unusual, but neither did she appear upset. Her dark hair was tied back, business-like, and she was in jeans and a white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Jesse glanced down and saw Oscar peeping out from behind her leg, fixing him with inquisitive brown eyes. In his hand was a red plastic car that he brandished proudly. To be honest, it all seemed quite normal.

Jesse opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, and Tabitha raised her eyebrows. How could he ask if her husband had left her for the nanny? What form of words could he use to make it sound all right? He was saved by none other than Luke himself, who came striding down the hallway towards them, grinning widely, arms outstretched.

‘Jesse, my good man! Come on in! What brings you here? How’s our Loveday? Feeling better, I hope?’

Bewildered, Jesse followed Luke to the kitchen, passing the guests eating breakfast in one of the reception rooms, past the helper, Shelley, looking like a frightened rabbit, with a large jug of orange juice in her hands.

‘Tea, coffee – or something stronger?’ Luke asked, checking the expensive gold watch on his wrist. ‘Or is it too early for that? We’ve been up so long I’ve lost track of the time.’

Like his wife, he was wearing jeans, and a blue and white striped shirt, open at the collar, and his hair was damp and slicked back, as if he’d just come out of the shower.

‘Nothing, thanks.’ Jesse frowned and Luke stopped smiling.

‘How can I help?’

‘Do you know where Loveday is?’ Jesse cursed the wobble in his voice as he explained in rapid sentences about the note. ‘She didn’t say where she was going and she hasn’t taken her phone.’ He pulled it from his pocket to show them. ‘Did she tell you her plans?’

There was a pause when no one spoke and Luke’s face clouded over, then he stroked his chin thoughtfully.

‘How odd.’ He fixed on his wife. ‘She didn’t say anything to you, did she?’

Tabitha shook her head slowly.

‘Wait a minute.’ He tapped her hand several times as if restarting a clock. ‘Didn’t she tell you she was bored of Tremarnock? I’m sure that rings a bell.’

Tabitha hugged her arms around her and stared at the floor. ‘I think she might have said something like that.’

Shelley had reappeared and was frying eggs on the giant silver cooker. Jesse was sure that she must be listening, but her back was turned and it didn’t show.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Luke sighed, above the sound of hissing fat, the steam rising from the hot pan. ‘I thought she liked working for us and Oscar will miss her badly – we all will.’

He shifted from one foot to another, before gazing at the younger man with bright blue eyes.

‘Was everything all right? Between you and Loveday, I mean?’

The question seemed to come from nowhere and Jesse flinched, as if the other man was shining a torch in his face.

‘Fine.’ He wasn’t going to say that she’d frozen him out all week, or that they’d argued; it was no one else’s business.

Oscar whimpered and Tabitha picked him up and hugged him close. She looked anxious and the corner of her mouth twitched in a strange way. ‘Should we call the police?’

Luke drew himself up tall and his face and neck reddened. ‘Absolutely not.’ Then, softening, ‘I mean, it’s not up to us, is it? That’s a decision for Jesse and Loveday’s family.’

Jesse shuddered, remembering. ‘I have to tell them, they don’t even know yet.’ And with that he turned on his heel and let himself out into the cobbled street, which now seemed strange and hostile. Even the air felt different – sharp, grey and unfamiliar. He longed to be older and wiser and wished that someone would tell him what to do. Most of all, he just wanted his girlfriend home.

It was Rosie who answered the door, still in her nightclothes and clutching Mitzi, who peered at Jesse through the folds of her mistress’s pink dressing gown.

On seeing him, the girl’s greeny-grey eyes, behind her pale blue glasses, opened very wide, and a hand flew up to cover her face. For a moment he was confused, until the cat jumped out of her arms, the hand dropped down and he realised that she was trying to disguise an angry red spot on the side of her nose. Some other time he might have found it endearing, but not today.

‘Are Liz and Robert here?’ he asked, and Rosie followed him into the toasty front room where the fire was lit and the pair were sitting at either end of the sofa, leafing through the Sunday papers, mugs of coffee on the floor beside them. Liz was in a skimpy white nightie, Robert a navy robe, and their bare legs met in the middle, wrapping round each other like vines.

‘Look at us, such slobs!’ Liz exclaimed, swinging her legs down and narrowly missing her drink. You could see the outline of a neat baby bump through the cotton gown. ‘We don’t normally slouch around like this.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Rosie, standing at the door, crossing her arms. ‘Sometimes Mum doesn’t get dressed at all on Sundays.’

‘And why not, if you don’t have to work?’ Robert scratched his head. ‘Speaking of which, I’d better get my show on the road. We’ve got a party of eight arriving at twelve forty-five.’ He looked at Jesse. ‘You’re off today, right? How’s Loveday? Any better? Got any nice plans?’

Jesse shuffled miserably.

‘What’s up?’ said Robert, and Liz signalled to Rosie to make herself scarce.

She pulled a face, Liz mouthed, ‘Go,’ and a moment later the door clicked shut.

Now that the three of them were alone, Jesse, unable to hold it together any longer, buried his face in his hands. A tissue was produced from somewhere and when he was seated and had composed himself he started to explain what had happened.

‘I thought Luke and Loveday might have gone off together, but they couldn’t have, could they, if Luke’s still home?’

Robert shook his head.

‘And she told Tabitha she was bored of Tremarnock, but she never said that to me. I don’t understand.’

His mouth trembled; he pretended to cough and Liz put a comforting hand on his knee.

‘She seemed the opposite of bored,’ she said, puzzled. ‘She was thrilled with the job and the flat – and living with you. Why would she lie to us?’

‘It’s bizarre,’ said Robert, rising to fetch the phone. When he opened the door, Jesse caught sight of Rosie out of the corner of his eye scuttling down the hallway.

They could hear Robert next door, pacing on long legs round the kitchen, first telling the boys at the restaurant that he’d be late then talking to his sister, Sarah.

‘Calm down… Are you sure she hasn’t left a message? Have another check…’

They looked up expectantly when he returned but he shook his head. ‘Sarah says they haven’t spoken for two weeks. Like the rest of us, she thinks it’s very out of character.’

He stopped pacing suddenly and Jesse wondered what was coming next. ‘Did you and Loveday have an argument?’

That question again. Jesse inhaled sharply.

‘No, nothing like that.’ His mum had talked to him about respecting women and he shouldn’t have thrown that chair.

Robert seemed satisfied. ‘Right,’ he said, straightening up, ‘I’m going to have a word with Luke myself. You two call around her friends, everyone she knows. That friend she was living with before, the postman—’

‘Nathan,’ Liz interrupted. Robert was hopeless with names.

He went to fetch his coat from the hall then came in again, zipping it tight and turning up the collar.

‘Do you think we should call the police?’ Liz’s voice cracked for the first time.

‘Not yet.’ Robert patted Jesse’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, you know how impulsive she is. My guess is she’s got some mad idea into her head and she’ll soon realise she’s missing you and come home, tail between her legs.’

He laughed, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but it didn’t work. Rosie, who’d crept in quietly, sneaked into her mother’s arms and snuggled up close.

‘D’you think she’s all right?’ she asked, looking first at Jesse, then Robert, then Liz.

‘Of course,’ Liz replied, giving her a squeeze. ‘She’ll be back in a day or two, wondering what all the fuss was about.’

‘But what if she’s not?’ said Rosie.

*

By the time Robert returned from The Stables, Liz and Jesse had either spoken to Loveday’s friends or left messages. In reality there weren’t that many to contact; she hadn’t travelled much beyond Cornwall and had only kept in touch with a few people from her childhood. No one had the faintest idea where she could have gone. Jesse wanted to see his mum to fill her in, and promised to return soon. Meanwhile, Rosie and Liz got dressed at last.

‘What did the Mallons say?’ Liz asked Robert, cornering him in the hall the moment he walked through the door.

‘Nothing much.’ He kissed her lightly on the lips and she and Rosie followed him back to the front room, where he slumped on the sofa. ‘They were both under the impression that she enjoyed her work.’ He rubbed his stubbly chin; he hadn’t yet shaved. ‘Luke did mention one thing, though.’

Liz’s ears pricked. ‘Yes?’

‘He said he thought Loveday and Jesse were having problems.’

‘Really?’ Liz, sitting opposite her husband, leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. Rosie was perched on the arm of the chair beside her. Liz knew that the couple were hot-headed, Loveday especially, and that they’d had a big bust-up a couple of years ago, when they’d been dating first time round. But they had been younger then and less sure of their own minds, and since they’d got back together and moved into the flat they’d been like a pair of lovebirds.

‘She didn’t tell me anything about it – and neither did Jesse.’

‘No,’ said Robert, knitting his brows.

‘Where did Luke get that from, then?’

Robert seemed distracted and she wasn’t sure that he’d heard so she poked his leg with a finger.

‘Luke said Loveday had a heart-to-heart with Tabitha,’ he explained at last. ‘You know they get on very well. Loveday was quite upset and said Jesse frightened her.’

Liz sat back and crossed her arms. ‘Nonsense. I don’t believe a word of it.’

‘Nor do I,’ chipped in Rosie, who’d been as quiet as a mouse up to now. ‘There’s no way she’s afraid of Jesse, she’d have told me. We talk about everything.’

The phone rang and Robert rose to answer it, returning to inform them that Sarah and her estranged husband Andy were on their way from Penzance by car. Liz took a deep breath; Sarah wasn’t the easiest person, but she, Liz, would have done the same under the circumstances.

‘Where will they sleep?’ she asked, and Robert said he’d prepare the spare room while one of them would have to take the sofa. Then Rosie announced that she had a rehearsal.

‘On Sunday?’ Liz was surprised, but her daughter explained that they needed to fit them in whenever they could.

‘You don’t mind, do you? I’ll stay if you want me to.’

Liz shook her head. It was probably better if she escaped the anxious atmosphere for a few hours; it wasn’t as if there was anything she could do. After she left, Liz went to find her husband, who was standing by their bedroom window, gazing at the street below.

‘I rang the police,’ he told her, as if continuing a conversation he’d been having with himself. ‘They said we should wait forty-eight hours and if she doesn’t contact us, they’ll make enquiries. The problem is, she’s nineteen and won’t be classed as high priority. And she left a note stating her intentions. They seem to think she’ll turn up anyway. Most do.’

He turned to face her and she stared, noticing the strained expression, the deep lines around his mouth and eyes that hadn’t been there earlier. ‘Oh, Robert, you don’t think—?’