Schoolgirl Missing: Discover the dark side of family life in the most gripping page-turner of 2019
Schoolgirl Missing: Discover the dark side of family life in the most gripping page-turner of 2019
Sue Fortin
‘A gripping portrayal of a family caught on the wrong side of the law’ JANE CORRYThe USA Today and #1 eBook bestseller of The Girl Who Lied and Sister SisterHAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?When fourteen-year-old Poppy vanishes on a family boating trip, suspicion soon turns close to home – to the two people who should do everything to keep her safe, her parents, Kit and Neve.Neve has a secret. Kit is lying.Everyone is watching.Who do you believe?
Copyright (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2019
Copyright © Sue Fortin 2019
Cover design by Cherie Chapman © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Cover images © iStock.com (http://www.iStock.com) (stairs and street light); Shutterstock.com (http://Shutterstock.com) (all other images)
Sue Fortin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008294489
Ebook Edition © January 2019 ISBN: 9780008294496
Version: 2018-11-01
Dedication (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
To Mum
With all my love
x
Contents
Cover (#ubbf70f07-dbdb-59a8-9d8a-fa0449b5c695)
Title Page (#ubb0bf8b0-219a-58bf-b300-95a024add11a)
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Acknowledgements
Also by Sue Fortin
About the Author
About the Publisher
Chapter 1 (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
Neve looked up from the toast she was buttering as her daughter came into the kitchen. Poppy was living up to the floral element of her name, wearing a kaleidoscope of colours; from her pink and yellow spotty top, to her bright red leggings and white socks.
‘Good morning, Poppy,’ said Neve, smiling fondly at the teenager she’d legally adopted when she had married Kit. ‘You look very colourful today.’
‘You look very colourful today as well,’ said Poppy, mimicking Neve’s Welsh accent. She sat down at the breakfast bar, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her middle finger.
Neve raised her eyebrows slightly, unsure if the middle finger was an intentional gesture on the 14-year-old’s behalf or not. Neve passed over the plate of toast. ‘Jam OK?’
‘You ask me that every day.’
‘One day you might surprise me and say you want marmalade.’
‘Why would I do that? I don’t like marmalade.’
Neve gave a shrug. ‘That’s why it would be a surprise.’
‘Where’s Dad?’ asked Poppy.
‘He’ll be down in a minute.’ As soon as the words left Neve’s mouth, she regretted them. Poppy would now be clock watching and if Kit didn’t arrive within the next sixty seconds, she would be chiding Neve for getting it wrong. Neve went for the distraction tactic.
‘Do you like my new dress?’ she said, stepping out from behind the breakfast bar and performing a theatrical twirl. ‘It’s not quite as bright as your top, but I thought the pale blue was pretty. A bit like the sky today.’
‘I don’t like blue.’
‘Not even this shade of blue?’
‘Dark blue, light blue, green-blue, black-blue. I don’t like any blue.’ Poppy took a bite of her toast.
Neve pulled a mock disappointed face and turned away before Poppy could see the small smile of amusement that was threatening. Neve knew Poppy well enough by now not to take offence at what she said. Poppy didn’t have the same thought filter as others. To Neve, it was just one of Poppy’s characteristics, whereas to others, it was disconcerting, borne out through ignorance and/or lack of empathy. It frustrated Neve to think that some people couldn’t see past this quirk and dismissed Poppy with words like ‘odd’ ‘weird’ and ‘strange’ or phrases like ‘not all there’ and ‘a bit slow’. She busied herself with opening the back door to let their 2-year-old Labrador in. ‘Willow likes my dress, don’t you, girl?’ said Neve, making a fuss of the dog, sending golden dog hairs floating to the floor. Willow had been an unexpected present from Kit two years ago. A fur-baby, as Neve’s friend Lucie had referred to the dog. ‘Your child substitute,’ she’d said, grinning.
It turned out that Lucie had been spot on with her observation, well, in as much as Kit had intended the gesture to reinforce his message to Neve that he had Poppy and when he’d said he didn’t want any more children, he’d meant it. However, Neve hadn’t yet given up hope of changing his mind.
‘I’m sitting next to Callum at lunch today,’ announced Poppy, distracting Neve from her thoughts.
‘Are you? That’s nice,’ said Neve, as Willow placed herself next to the bar stool and stared hopefully up at the toast. Neve poured her daughter a glass of apple juice as she tried to pluck Callum’s name from the filing cabinet of her mind.
Ah, yes, Callum.
Poppy had spoken about him a lot recently. He was new to St Joseph’s and from what Neve had gleaned from Poppy, he had just come out of mainstream education. Not dissimilar to Poppy’s own route to St Joseph’s. She’d had a hard time progressing through the education system and her transition into secondary school had been particularly painful. Twelve-year-olds weren’t as forgiving or accepting as primary school children; all Poppy’s needs were suddenly amplified and her coping mechanisms became inadequate. Her behaviour was sometimes unpredictable and her social skills under-developed, making her prime fodder for relentless teasing. Even though the Special Educational Needs team had tried to help Poppy, Kit and Neve had taken the decision to remove her from secondary school and send her to St Joseph’s where they had the resources, the time, the funding and the understanding. Poppy appeared to be thriving at the school so neither of them had regretted it for a moment.
‘He’s going to share his sandwiches with me,’ said Poppy, chomping on her toast. She wiped a splodge of jam from the corner of her mouth with her hand. ‘He has cucumber sandwiches.’
‘Just cucumber?’ Neve glanced at the clock, aware that Kit’s sixty seconds to put in an appearance were nearly up. Unfortunately, as she looked back at Poppy, Neve realised the time-check had not been missed.
‘Dad will be here in three seconds,’ said Poppy. ‘Two. One.’ She looked expectantly towards the door. ‘Dad?’
‘He won’t be long,’ said Neve. ‘Drink your apple juice.’ She slid the glass closer to Poppy.
‘You shouldn’t tell lies,’ said Poppy.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I meant approximately a minute.’
Poppy peered into her glass. ‘I don’t think blue suits you.’
Poppy’s honesty was as charming as it was painful at times. Neve had long since learned to take any negatives on the chin, but every now and again, it did hurt – just a little bit. She looked down at her dress. She’d only bought it last week and had loved it as soon as she had seen it. An unbidden wish to have a daughter who shared her likes and loves flicked through Neve’s mind, immediately followed by a rush of guilt. Neve wasn’t wishing Poppy was different, it was just sometimes the thought of another child, whose company was easier to navigate, made Neve yearn for that one thing her husband was denying her.
The sound of footsteps coming down the hall cancelled the need to take the conversation further. Kit came through into the kitchen, straightening his tie whilst carrying his jacket in the crook of his arm.
‘You’re late,’ said Poppy, without looking up at her father.
Neve exchanged a look with Kit. ‘Late?’ he queried and then dropped a kiss on his daughter’s head. ‘Morning, Poppy.’
‘You were supposed to be here about twenty seconds ago,’ said Neve, popping a coffee pod into the machine.
‘Twenty-five, actually,’ corrected Poppy.
‘Oops, sorry,’ said Kit. He moved around the central island counter and kissed Neve on the cheek. ‘What’s on the agenda for today?’
‘I have some shopping to do, then it’s the open afternoon at Poppy’s school.’ Kit’s blank expression told her he’d forgotten. Neve enlightened him. ‘Where we get to see the project they’ve been working on?’
‘Town and Country project,’ interjected Poppy. ‘You said you’d come.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said Kit, fiddling with his tie. ‘I did, didn’t I?’ He looked at Neve with a ‘help me out of this’ expression.
Neve was tempted to let him dig his own way out. Kit, of all people, should know that breaking a promise to Poppy wasn’t something that could be passed off easily. And why should it? Just because Poppy had a different perspective on life to most other people, why did he think it was OK to let her down? He’d been so distracted with his work lately, he seemed to be putting that above everything, including herself and Poppy. Neve had tried talking to Kit about it on several occasions, but he had been dismissive, saying Neve was over-reacting and he was just distracted while a new contract between the boat builders and marina was being negotiated. There was always some important contract being negotiated lately, Neve had thought wearily.
‘It’s not nice to break a promise,’ said Poppy, her head dipping lower as her gaze remained fixed on the contents of her glass.
‘I know, darling …’ Kit began. He held up his hands. ‘Sorry, I know I shouldn’t break a promise, but I have a really important meeting at work today. I can’t miss it.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’ Neve couldn’t help herself saying out loud, although the thought perhaps should have stayed in her head.
Kit glared at her. ‘Sean needs me at a meeting with the marina harbourmaster. They’re looking to agree on the development project for the new speedboat. You know that, I told you about it before.’ He turned back to his daughter. ‘Poppy, I’m really sorry and you’re right, breaking promises is not a good thing, but sometimes other things get in the way.’
‘You want to see Sean’s project but not mine.’ Poppy crammed the last piece of toast into her mouth.
Kit turned to Neve again. ‘You’ll be there, won’t you?’
‘I will.’ Neve kept thoughts of ‘aren’t I always’ and ‘why wouldn’t I be?’ to herself. She didn’t want to highlight to Poppy her growing frustration at Kit’s increasing lack of commitment to his daughter. She was beginning to feel like a single parent.
‘Neve will tell me all about it,’ said Kit. ‘I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you out on the boat at the weekend. How about that?’
It was almost as if he’d read Neve’s thoughts, although a one-off boat trip wasn’t the same as day-to-day involvement.
Poppy stopped chewing and cast her gaze in Kit’s direction, although still avoided eye contact. ‘OK.’
Neve watched as Kit heaved a sigh of relief. He grinned broadly at Poppy. ‘Excellent. Now, I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.’
‘Bye.’ Poppy got down from the stool and padded out of the kitchen.
‘Brush your teeth!’ called Neve after her.
‘Thanks for that,’ said Kit.
‘I didn’t do anything,’ replied Neve.
‘Exactly,’ said Kit sarcastically.
‘I think you’ve got away with that very lightly. A trip out on the boat.’
‘It’s just one of those things. I can’t avoid this meeting.’ Kit looked over at the shopping list Neve had prepared earlier. He picked up the pen and added to it.
Neve turned the list back round to read the addition. ‘Condoms.’
‘Yep. We used the last one at the weekend. Remember?’ He winked at her and patted her backside.
‘How could I forget?’ The words came out with a touch more resentment than Neve intended. Kit’s insistence to always use a condom was beginning to erode Neve’s belief that she would ever change his mind about having a baby. In the hot anticipation of making love, she’d mentioned the thorny subject to Kit and managed to elicit a promise from him that he would think about it again. Now, Neve slipped her arms around Kit’s neck. ‘I also remember our conversation.’
‘About?’
‘Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten that too,’ said Neve. She cocked her head to one side. ‘You know, you were going to think about it again.’
The smile on Kit’s face dropped like a stone. He exhaled a long breath and gently removed Neve’s hands from his neck. ‘We agreed.’
‘We didn’t. You decided. There’s a difference.’
‘Neve, I don’t want to give you false hope; the answer is still no.’
Neve felt the tears spike her eyes. She blinked hard. She felt desperate. She was finding it increasingly more and more difficult to contemplate a life without a child of her own. She knew there was no middle ground on the issue, no compromise, and this only served to frustrate her even more. One of them had to do a complete U-turn. ‘Please don’t just say no without thinking about it. I mean, really thinking about it. I’m on the verge of begging you.’
‘And we’ve had this conversation so many times lately. Come on, Neve, it’s not like I’ve suddenly changed my mind about it. I’ve always been honest with you. You’re being unfair. I do wish you could just accept it.’
‘And I wish you could accept the risk of something tragic happening again is remote. I’m willing to take the chance.’
‘I’m not. I’m not willing to risk losing another wife in childbirth and …’ he glanced over his shoulder, ‘… and having another child with special needs as a result,’ he finished. He fixed Neve with a glare, daring her to challenge him, before striding round to the other side of the island worktop. ‘I’m not having this conversation again. Understand?’
Sadly, Neve did understand. She had always thought that she might be able to persuade Kit to change his mind. Never in a million years had she thought that when they first had the conversation about increasing their little family unit from three to four, his reluctance was, in fact, a determination. He was never going to have any more children. He was never going to subject himself to the trauma he went through with his first wife. And he certainly was never going to run the risk of having another child starved of oxygen and suffering brain damage as a result. She understood it wasn’t that he didn’t love Poppy. He totally loved her, but his time and emotions were stretched enough looking after just one child, so looking after two was a physical and mental impossibility for Kit. Neve’s thoughts turned back to her adopted daughter and she followed Kit out to the hall.
‘Are you sure there’s no way you can cancel Sean and get to Poppy’s presentation?’
‘No. I can’t. I’m sorry,’ said Kit. ‘You’ll be there; that will make her happy.’
‘Just as well I cancelled my art class, then,’ said Neve. She couldn’t help feeling peeved at Kit’s lack of concern at missing Poppy’s presentation, and in assuming that she’d be there to pick up the pieces. It didn’t matter to him that she had to cancel something that was important to her.
Kit gave a laugh. ‘It’s just an art class. Not like it’s a job, or anything.’
‘And whose fault is that? You don’t want me to have a job!’
‘A lot of women would love to be in your shoes and not have to work. I like you here at home, so does Poppy. Why are you getting all worked up about an art class anyway?’ asked Kit.
‘Because it’s not just an art class,’ said Neve, resisting the urge to stamp her foot in frustration. ‘It’s my art therapy class.’
‘It won’t hurt you to miss it just this once,’ said Kit.
‘You’re being so unreasonable,’ said Neve. ‘Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, I’ve gone out of my way to make sure I’m there for Poppy. Why can’t you?’
Kit gave an exaggerated sigh, as he spun round to face Neve. ‘Tell me, is it the fact that you’ve had to cancel your art class that’s pissing you off or the fact that you won’t be seeing Picasso this week?’
‘What are you talking about?’ Neve could feel the colour rising up her neck.
‘Jake. You’re always going on about him, how he understands art so well, how he uses colours to interpret moods, how the passion shines out from his paintings,’ said Kit, mimicking Neve’s voice. ‘You’ve even started making your face a work of art in the mornings. More red lipstick, fussing over your hair. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.’
‘What? Are you mad?’ asked Neve, hoping her indignation was convincing enough. Really, she felt embarrassed; it was true, she had been fussing over her hair a bit more and as much as she tried to deny it to herself, she knew deep down it was for Jake’s benefit. But to be called out on it by her husband was humiliating. She genuinely didn’t think Kit had noticed the extra attention she was giving to her appearance and she was annoyed with herself for being so naïve. The last thing she wanted was Kit thinking she was involved with Jake in any way, although, she had to admit to herself that she found Jake attractive and there was no denying it was reciprocated. Not that either of them had said anything to each other, but she could feel it fizzling in the air between them.
‘I think the fact that your face has turned bright red and you have that blotchy rash across your neck is all the proof I need.’ Kit took a step closer. ‘Is there something you want to tell me, Neve?’
Neve held her nerve, more from pride than innocence. ‘There is nothing to tell,’ she said. ‘Jake is my art tutor, that’s all.’ She paused, not blinking an eye, daring Kit to say something more. ‘Typical of you to jump to conclusions.’
Then, to her surprise, he gave a smile followed by a fleeting kiss on the mouth. ‘Good. Let’s keep it that way,’ he said, before turning and calling to Poppy. ‘I’m going now, Poppy. I’ll see you later.’
Neve watched as Kit waited for a response from his daughter. She fought hard to hold back the tears that were threatening. Kit didn’t know how lucky he was to have a child of his own. He loved Poppy deeply and was even more protective of her because of what had happened and how the events of the past had affected her and, yet, he couldn’t understand how not having a child herself tormented Neve. She loved Poppy, there was no question about that, she’d been in Neve’s life for the past seven years, the last five as her legally adopted daughter, but Poppy wasn’t Neve’s. The inner desire and need to have a child of her own had never diminished and, if anything, grew more intense as her now 29-year-old body clock ticked along. And as much as it upset her, it made her cross too. Who the hell was Kit to say what she could and couldn’t have?
‘Where is she?’ said Kit, impatience evident in his voice.
‘I sent her up to brush her teeth,’ said Neve. She joined Kit at the foot of the stairs and called up. ‘Poppy! Your dad’s going. He wants to say goodbye.’
No answer.
‘Poppy!’ Kit had raised his voice to a shout.
They both listened for an answer and when met with silence, they exchanged a look.
‘I’ll go and get her,’ said Neve, not saying what they were both thinking.
Neve knocked at the closed bathroom door. ‘Poppy? You OK?’ She strained to hear the sound of Poppy brushing her teeth or the water running. Neve tried the handle and the door opened without resistance. The bathroom was empty.
Neve went along the landing to Poppy’s bedroom. She repeated the procedure of knocking on the door and waiting for an answer and when she didn’t receive a response, she opened the door. Once again, the room was empty. Neve felt her stomach give a little dip. ‘Please don’t do this,’ she whispered as she made a thorough check of all the rooms upstairs.
She leaned over the bannisters. ‘See if she’s in the car or outside.’
She heard Kit give a groan as he strode out through the door. Neve hurried down the stairs to find her phone. Standing in the kitchen, she dialled Poppy’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. She tried a second time, but got the same result.
In the last three or four months, Poppy had taken to running off in a sulk whenever she didn’t get her own way. It started when Kit had said no to her having her ears pierced and said she had to wait until she was sixteen. Despite Neve trying to convince him to change his mind, he’d refused, and it had resulted in Poppy running out the door. They’d found her twenty minutes later sitting on the swings at the park. The time after that, they’d argued about whether she could watch something on TV which both Neve and Kit had deemed unsuitable. Poppy had snuck out to her friend’s house in a strop, sending Neve and Kit into a ten-minute frenzy trying to locate her, before Libby’s mother, Heather, had rung to say Poppy was there. The last time, Poppy had made it all the way into town in an attempt to reach Kit’s mother’s house but had got hopelessly lost at the bus station and fortunately a concerned passenger had called the police. The repercussions had been embarrassing and unpleasant as the police had involved Poppy’s healthcare worker and school, all in the name of safeguarding. It had taken a two-hour meeting to convince the authorities that Poppy was safe and in no danger from her or Kit. No one wanted a repeat performance of that day.
Trying Poppy’s number for a third time, Neve hurried down the hall to the front door.
‘She’s not out there either. I’ve checked the front and back garden. No sign of her,’ said Kit, meeting Neve at the door. ‘Are you ringing her now?’
‘Yes, but it’s going straight to voicemail. She must have switched it off.’ Neve cut the call.
‘For fuck’s sake.’
‘We’d better go and look for her.’ Neve grabbed her car keys from the table. ‘I’ll go in my car and look in the village and the playing field. I’ll give Heather a call too, just in case she’s turned up there.’
‘I’ll ring Mum.’
‘Don’t do that yet, she’ll only worry. Let’s see if we can find Poppy in the village first. Check down by the river and the meadow.’ She looked at Kit as his expression shifted from annoyance to concern. She felt a wave of sympathy for him. ‘Don’t worry, she can’t be far away.’
Chapter 2 (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
It was easy for Neve to say ‘don’t worry’, thought Kit, jumping into his Mercedes; it wasn’t her daughter that was missing. He immediately felt like a shit for even thinking that. He knew how much his wife thought of his daughter and he knew it would hurt Neve to know he’d even gone there with his thoughts. All the same, when it was your own flesh and blood, it was different.
He pushed back the fear – it was a useless emotion which clouded judgement. Instead he concentrated on his anger; that he could deal with. Poppy knew they would be worried, especially after last time with that bloody social worker, or healthcare visitor, or whatever the hell she was, prying into their lives. Implying that she didn’t fully trust him or Neve. Who the fuck was she? The old cow would have a field day now if they didn’t find Poppy soon.
Kit drove down the main street of the village past the coffee shop where Neve’s friend, Lucie, worked. The place wasn’t open yet and there was no sign of Poppy hanging around outside. Kit wasn’t even sure if Poppy had any money on her. He should have got Neve to check the money jar on Poppy’s windowsill.
The war memorial was at the end of the street and the bus stop was filling up with kids from the local secondary school who were bussed in and out each day. It was also the pick-up point for the St Joseph school bus. Kit scanned the burgundy blazers of the secondary school kids already waiting, hoping to spot Poppy in her home clothes in line with St Joseph’s no uniform policy.
For a moment he thought he saw her, but the flowery top belonged to a sixth former. Some of the pupils were turning to stare at the slowing car. Feeling conspicuous and the need to explain he wasn’t some weirdo, Kit put the window down and leaned across the centre console.
‘Just looking for my daughter, Poppy Masters. She gets the St Joseph’s bus normally. Have you seen her?’
The shrugs and blank looks on the kids’ faces gave him his answer.
‘The St Joseph’s bus is just coming now,’ said one of the girls nodding down the road.
Kit watched the yellow and white minibus pull up alongside the kerb. Kit jumped out of his car and went over to the driver.
‘Hi, I’m Kit Masters,’ he began. ‘My daughter Poppy usually gets this bus.’
The driver gave Kit an expectant look. ‘Where is she? I can’t hang about, I get into trouble if I’m more than five minutes late.’
‘Yeah, sure. Erm, she’s …’ Kit stopped himself explaining any further. He didn’t want to draw attention to the fact she was missing just yet. ‘She’s not getting the bus today,’ he said. ‘Just thought I’d let you know, seeing as she’s your only pick-up from the village. Didn’t want you hanging around for nothing.’
The driver looked surprised. ‘Oh, right. Well, thanks very much for letting me know. I wish other parents were as considerate. Save me a whole load of time that would.’ He gave Kit a nod of thanks and the automatic door wheezed shut.
Kit watched the minibus head off towards the bridge. He gave a sigh and hopped back in his car whilst wishing he could give Poppy a bloody good telling off for this one.
Next stop was the river. Neve and Poppy often walked the dog down here and thinking about it logically, it was probably one of the most obvious places to look for her. Parking the Mercedes in the small car park alongside the riverbank, Kit jogged along the path.
Despite it being summer, it was muddy underfoot from the recent rain and every now and then he had to lengthen his stride to clear a puddle. He had his best shoes on today, ready for the meeting later, and despite his athletic efforts to avoid the grey squelchy mud washed down from the surrounding chalk hills, it was easing its way over the stitched welt of his shoes.
There was a bench around the corner, just before the bridge. Perhaps Poppy would be there? He quickened his pace in anticipation, but his heart plummeted at the sight of the empty seat.
His gaze travelled further along the footpath to the arched bridge which stretched across the River Amble. He peered into the shadows of the arch and could just make out two figures leaning on the handrail overlooking the fast-flowing tidal water. He sped up even more.
As he neared the bridge, relief was the first emotion that swept through him as he recognised his daughter. This was rapidly followed by alarm; who the hell was she with? It looked like a man.
‘Poppy!’ His voice boomed out and he saw his daughter physically jump. The man’s reaction was less exaggerated. He simply turned his head to one side, looking towards Kit, and casually moved his body so he was leaning back against the railings, resting on his elbows.
Now Kit was within a few feet of them he could see the man’s face. It was hard to say how old he was; the beard gave the initial impression that he was perhaps in his early thirties, a few years younger than Kit. The man had an eyebrow piercing and a lip ring. Kit wouldn’t have been at all surprised if the piercings extended to other parts of the man’s body too. He wore a scruffy army-green parka with a sweat shirt underneath, loose tracksuit bottoms and trainers.
‘It’s my dad,’ Poppy said as Kit levelled with them.
The man took a drag of his cigarette which Kit thought looked rather too fat to be a regular roll-up. An earthy turpentine smell hung in the air. Kit glared at him. He looked like one of those do-gooder social workers who were attached to The Forum – a half-way home for young adults who, according to the local council, needed extra support when making the transition from being in care to independent living. Personally, Kit considered it to be a half-way home for kids who needed a kick up the backside and a reality check. A bit of hard graft hadn’t done him any harm. Kit so easily could have played the victim card when he was sixteen and his dad died, but instead he’d seen it as a wake-up call to grasp life with both hands, to work hard and to make his own luck.
He turned his attention to his daughter. ‘Come on, Poppy, you need to go to school.’ He held out his arm indicating the way and expecting compliance.
‘I don’t want to go,’ said Poppy.
‘You don’t have any choice.’ Kit fixed his daughter with a firm look.
‘Take it easy,’ said the man.
Kit turned his stare onto the stranger. ‘I don’t know who you are but mind your own business.’
‘He’s my friend,’ Poppy announced, folding her arms.
‘Since when?’ Kit could feel his temper rising.
‘Since I got here.’ Poppy looked defiantly at her father.
The man smirked, leaned his head back and blew out a plume of smoke.
‘I don’t care who the hell he is,’ said Kit. ‘You’re coming with me now. You’ve got school. You’re making us all late. Neve is off looking for you.’
‘I don’t want to go to school.’
‘Tough.’ Kit was aware he was handling the situation all wrong, but the bloke was pissing him off. Unsettling him. He didn’t like the thought of some man sniffing around his daughter. She was vulnerable and unable to read the unspoken social gestures or display the right signs herself. She would get herself into all sorts of trouble if she wasn’t careful.
Poppy picked up her bag, scowling at her father, but as she turned to her companion, the scowl was exchanged for a smile. ‘See you again,’ she said.
‘Yeah. I’d like that.’
Pressure rose in Kit’s chest. He put a hand on Poppy’s arm, shepherding her down the path, before turning and going back to the man. He got right up in the bloke’s face. ‘No, you fucking won’t.’ His voice barely much more than a whisper. ‘You stay away from my daughter. She’s fourteen. I’ll have you arrested for grooming a minor.’ He paused as he fought to keep his breathing under control. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying, or do I need to say it in simpler terms?’
‘I know what you’re saying but as she told you, we’re just friends. There’s no law against that.’
‘Don’t be clever with me. You go anywhere near her again and I’ll personally see to it that you’re sorry.’
With that Kit marched back down the path, urging Poppy along and ignoring her protests that he was being rude to her friend. Kit sighed inwardly at her simplistic view on the world.
‘You can’t keep going off like that,’ said Kit, as he opened the passenger door for Poppy to get in. ‘It’s irresponsible.’ He gave the door a slam and took a moment to compose himself. Flying off the handle to Poppy right now wouldn’t be the best way to tackle the problem. With a remarkable amount of control, Kit got into the car with a much calmer air about him and gave Neve a call.
‘Have you found her?’ Neve asked immediately on answering the call.
‘Yeah. She’s here with me now. She’s fine.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Neve. ‘I was dreading having to phone the police again after what happened last time.’
‘She was with some bloke – scruffy looking. Claimed he was her friend.’
‘A man? Who?’ came Neve’s voice.
‘I don’t know. A friend, apparently. I don’t know if he had something to do with The Forum. Looked the type.’
‘Which is?’
‘Scruffy. Beard. Eyebrow piercing. Lip ring. I know that doesn’t narrow it down a lot, but he looked too old to be one of the kids from The Forum.’
‘You think he works there?’
‘Like I said, I don’t know. Sod’s law that Poppy should bump into someone like that.’ He cast a glance at his daughter sitting beside him, staring out of the window, her back half-turned on him.
‘We’ll have to speak to her again about going off in a strop,’ said Neve.
‘Definitely,’ said Kit. ‘We’ll do it tonight. I’m going to drop Poppy off at school now and head straight to the office.’ He paused, before speaking, this time ensuring his voice was softer. ‘Look, about earlier. I’m sorry we argued. Do you want to call into the marina later and we can grab a coffee?’
‘Erm … when were you thinking?’
He didn’t miss the hesitation in her voice. ‘I don’t know. In about an hour?’
‘Let’s say eleven. I’ve got a few things to do first.’
Kit wanted to ask what was so important, but he let it go for now to avoid another argument and attempted to ignore the suggestions at the back of his mind as to what Neve was doing. ‘That will be great. See you then.’ He quit the call and started the engine. ‘Right, better get you to school,’ he said, with a sigh. It was barely nine o’clock and it had already proved a stressful day. He could really have done without Poppy doing a disappearing act. He felt frustrated with her for going off like that, but more so because she didn’t, or rather couldn’t, grasp the dangers and the repercussions. He let out another sigh as he reminded himself that it wasn’t Poppy’s fault and he wasn’t frustrated at her – just at the limitations of her cognitive development.
‘Neve is wearing her blue dress today,’ said Poppy, shifting her position in the seat, so she was looking straight ahead.
Kit was used to his daughter’s sudden change in both mood and conversation. ‘It’s a nice dress,’ he answered.
‘Neve always wears her blue dress when she wants to look pretty.’
‘And pretty she looks,’ said Kit. As he spoke, he thought back to Neve that morning. She did indeed look pretty.
‘Callum is sharing his cucumber sandwiches with me.’
‘That’s nice,’ replied Kit, attempting to keep up with the conversation. He tried to concentrate on Poppy’s detailed and elaborate explanation of the seating arrangement in the school canteen, but his mind kept flitting back to Neve in her blue dress. Although his daughter’s observations often appeared random, they were nevertheless spot on. Why was Neve wearing the blue dress? What was she doing this morning that had meant putting off coming to see him? Did it involve Jake?
An unexpected image of Neve rolling around on white linen bed sheets with Jake in a bohemian studio loft room, surrounded by various pieces of art, took Kit by surprise. He gave a shake of his head to rid the thought from his mind. Surely, Neve wouldn’t be involved with a penniless art teacher. What did he have to offer?
Another black thought broke free. Perhaps it wasn’t the material things that interested Neve. Perhaps she was looking for something else. Excitement? Attention? Love?
No. His imagination was getting the better of him, he argued. Neve wouldn’t do that to him. No, Kit was just over-reacting after a bad morning.
Despite this reasoning, the thought of Neve meeting Jake wouldn’t leave him, and Kit found himself becoming more agitated with every thought.
Chapter 3 (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
Neve held her phone to her chest after she had finished the call with Kit and contemplated their conversation. She was relieved Poppy had been found, a little annoyed that her daughter had gone off again and caused all this fuss, and was grateful that the police didn’t have to be involved, but the overriding emotion was concern as to who Poppy had been with.
Kit had mentioned The Forum, maybe she had been with one of the kids from there? Although, technically, she shouldn’t really describe them as kids, they were young adults, ranging from eighteen to twenty-four. Kit was very disparaging of The Forum and its residents, which niggled Neve. She had met some of the youngsters at Jake’s art studio and, on the whole, she had felt a certain amount of empathy with them. Most of them, once you got to know them, were trying to get their lives on track having come through the care system, their backgrounds having little or no positive role models and often horrendous family lives. Neve knew only too well how bad family life could be when you were a young adult.
She wondered who Poppy had met and, as Kit had thought, if they could possibly be from The Forum. She tried to recall the ones she had seen at Jake’s studio but no one in particular sprang to mind matching the description that Kit gave.
There was, of course, one person she could ask – Jake. Neve was aware of the little flutter her stomach gave as she thought of contacting Jake and further acknowledged that it only served to back up Kit’s observations earlier about how she was making more of an effort with her appearance. It was a good job Kit wasn’t aware of her anticipation, it would only upgrade his observation to suspicion, when in actual fact, there wasn’t anything to be suspicious about.
She took out her phone and tapped out a message.
Hi, just wondered if you had five minutes to spare this morning?
She received a reply almost straight away.
For you, of course! I have a break between classes in 20 mins.
Great. See you then.
Neve pushed her phone into her pocket and couldn’t help smiling to herself at Jake’s immediate response and willingness to help. It was flattering and something which Kit hadn’t done in a long time.
Rather than take the car, Neve decided to kill two birds with one stone and take Willow for a walk at the same time. Jake’s art studio was on the outskirts of the village but less than a ten-minute walk away.
It was the beginning of July and despite promises of better weather, today was definitely not keeping schedule with the forecast. As Neve took her raincoat from the peg, she found herself checking her reflection in the mirror and wondering if her lipstick needed touching up.
She sighed and tutted at herself, Kit’s observation had been right, but it irritated her all the same. ‘A girl’s allowed to wear lipstick,’ she said out loud defiantly as she stood up straighter and pushed a stray strand of hair off her face. With that, she shrugged on her jacket and with Willow hooked onto the lead, she set off for the art studio.
As Neve crossed the bridge and turned into Copperthorne Lane, the earlier stomach-fluttering excitement made a return. This was so silly. She was a grown woman. A married woman. Jake Rees was her art tutor. She couldn’t let the current harmless mutual attraction develop into anything else. It was one thing thinking these things and having secret fantasies but playing them out in real life was something else.
Jake had converted an old farm building into a working studio about three years ago and lived above the premises. An artist himself, he supplemented his income with traditional art lessons and art therapy. He was involved with the young adults at The Forum – his social conscience, he called it. Those well off enough to pay for lessons and therapy were also funding those less fortunate who needed support in processing their emotions, thus helping them to make a positive future for themselves.
Neve admired his philosophy. Jake did what a lot of people only talked about, or superficially advocated by pointlessly sharing social media memes and believing that was a way to help. Jake acted on his thoughts, he didn’t just share and flick through to another status update. And of course, there were those who didn’t even do the whole sharing thing. Those like her husband who thought kids today expected everything to be handed to them on a plate and what they really needed was a dose of reality.
Neve sighed. Kit had lost his empathy somewhere along the way. He hadn’t been like that when they married, she was sure, but somewhere, somehow, his compassion had leaked away, leaving behind someone she found hard to understand.
Copperthorne Lane wasn’t much more than a gravel track and as she rounded the bend, the converted buildings came into view. Neve pushed open the stable door and poked her head into the studio where a group of around six artists were standing in front of their easels in a semi-circle. Neve couldn’t see the subject matter but from the boards bearing the half-completed charcoal drawings of a camera, photo albums and some scattered photographs, it looked like they were studying still life.
She caught sight of Jake talking earnestly with one of the women and leaned against the door frame, enjoying watching him without him noticing her. His dark hair, with its relaxed curl, skimmed his eyebrows and equally dark lashes.
‘Hey,’ said Jake, looking up and smiling. He excused himself from his student and came over, kissing her on the cheek. ‘How are you?’
‘Hey,’ replied Neve, taking in a deep breath of his aftershave, mixed with a more overpowering smell of turps. ‘I’m good, thanks.’ She nodded at the artists busy working on their canvasses. The woman Jake had been talking to looked up and smiled. Neve had seen her a few times at the studio but didn’t know her name. She returned the smile. ‘Full house today,’ she said to Jake.
‘Wednesday specials,’ said Jake, lowering his voice and dipping his head so his mouth was near her ear. ‘OAP day.’
Neve gave a small giggle. She flinched inwardly. It wasn’t even that funny what Jake said. She needed to get a grip of herself. ‘I can come back later if you’re busy,’ she found herself saying.
‘Not at all. Come on through. Bring the dog with you as well.’ He placed his hand on the small of Neve’s back and guided her through the main studio.
Neve smiled at another of Jake’s students. This time a gentleman, who Neve estimated to be in his early seventies.
The man stopped what he was doing to make a fuss of Willow. ‘Aren’t you lovely,’ he said, stroking the dog’s ears. ‘I’d better not stroke you too much, you’ll end up with paint all over you, then your mistress won’t be pleased.’
‘Your picture is looking great, Stan,’ said Jake. ‘I like what you’ve done with the greens there. You remembered what we said last week about blending the colours. Good stuff.’
Stan beamed like a schoolboy. ‘Thanks. I wasn’t sure about this area here. Do you ...?’
Jake moved his hand from Neve’s back to Stan’s shoulder as if they were mates down the pub, standing at the bar with their pints. ‘This is good, but remember, Stan, it’s your painting.’ He stood back and addressed the rest of the group. ‘OK, if you want to take a ten-minute break.’
Jake ushered Neve through to the smaller studio at the rear of the main room, which, in turn, led through to a small office.
Neve followed him through the open door and as he closed it behind them, she rested against the table in the middle of the room, which suddenly felt small and intimate. She’d worked in here before, it was a room Jake used for one-to-one sessions or with art therapy students who, for one reason or another, weren’t happy working in a larger group. Neve liked it in here, she felt she could be freer with her art. When she was alone or if it was just Jake in the room, she was able to express her deepest thoughts, her strongest fears and her darkest emotions on the canvas. There was no one to question her work or ask for an interpretation or, indeed, attempt to interpret it themselves. She hated that. They could just as well have been examining her naked body.
‘So, what do I owe this pleasure?’ asked Jake, taking the lead from her hand and hooking it under the leg of a stool. He moved to stand in front of her, his arms folded and dipped his head to seek out her eyes.
Neve had been keeping her focus on Willow, it was the safest place to look, she had decided. Sensing his gaze, Neve looked up at him. Her heart was beating faster than necessary, and she took a deep breath to regain some sort of control.
‘Well,’ she began. ‘Erm … I can’t make the class today after all.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said Jake. ‘A real shame. It’s not the same without you.’ His voice had dropped in both volume and tone.
‘I’m sorry, but Poppy has a presentation at school which I promised I’d attend and I have to meet Kit soon.’
‘Have to?’ said Jake. ‘You know, Neve, you’re a grown woman, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’
Neve’s face was only inches away from Jake’s. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. ‘I’ve already said I would.’ She managed to eke out the words, her eyes still magnetised to those gorgeous brown ones of his.
The sound of Neve’s phone pinging through a text message broke the moment. Jake stepped back as she fumbled in her handbag for her mobile.
Decided to go the whole hog. I’ve organised a spot of lunch on the boat for us. See you soon. Xx
Guilt flushed through her. Kit was clearly going out of his way to patch things up and here she was coming dangerously close to Jake in more ways than one.
She moved over to the window, not because she particularly wanted to admire the view, but she wasn’t sure she trusted herself being so close to Jake. ‘We’ve just spent the past half-hour looking for Poppy. We had a bit of an argument at home and she went off in a huff.’
‘Oh no! Did you find her?’
‘Yes. She’s at school now,’ said Neve, forcing herself to sound composed. ‘Kit found her down by the river with a friend.’
‘That’s a relief. I take it she’s all right, then?’
‘Yes, she’s fine. Just being a grumpy teenager, really.’
‘And what about you? Are you all right?’ asked Jake, coming to stand beside her. ‘It can be a tough job looking out for everyone. You mustn’t forget about yourself.’
If Neve moved her right arm just a fraction away from her body, she knew she would make contact with Jake. A fierce warmth shot through her and she was certain her neck was blotchy.
Neve forced herself to continue looking out at the meadow and the river beyond. Jake’s compassion was both immense and tender. How could something so gentle batter her resolve so forcefully?
She tried to gulp down the little cry that erupted in her throat, but without luck.
‘Hey, hey, hey,’ said Jake, slipping his arm around her shoulder.
She shrugged him away. ‘Don’t,’ she said, muffling another heavy breath with her hand. ‘Too much sympathy and I’ll be a blubbering wreck.’
Jake held his hands up and took a step back. He gave a smile full of kindness. ‘I don’t want to be responsible for making you cry,’ he said.
‘Ignore me, I’m being silly. Just a bit stressed after this morning.’
‘You know where I am if ever you want to talk,’ he said.
‘I do. Thank you, Jake. You’re a good friend.’
His smile downgraded to sadness as he acknowledged her comment with a small nod, before picking up some perfectly clean brushes and busying himself with washing them under the tap. He wrapped a towel around them and squeezed the water from the bristles, before popping them into a jam jar on the windowsill. ‘So, what did you want me for?’ he said, at last. ‘You texted.’
‘It was about Poppy,’ said Neve. ‘Kit didn’t recognise the friend she was with this morning and thought he might be from The Forum. I just wondered if you might know who it was.’
‘A lad? Why do you think he was from The Forum?’
‘It was a man, actually. Well, older than Poppy by quite some years, according to Kit. He had a beard and an eyebrow piercing. Lip ring too.’ She was uncomfortable at Kit’s assumptions and stereotyping but equally aware that she was endorsing this by posing the question to Jake.
‘So, you assumed he was from The Forum and must be bad news?’ said Jake, an accusing tone creeping into his voice.
‘Sorry. It’s not me …’ Neve trailed off, feeling both disloyal to Kit and embarrassed.
‘They get a bad press round here,’ said Jake. ‘Some have just had it tough.’
‘I know that, honestly,’ said Neve. ‘I just thought I could put Kit’s mind at rest, that’s all.’
‘Just because a man was talking to Poppy, it doesn’t mean he was trying to groom her or something,’ carried on Jake. ‘He might actually have been trying to find out if she was OK. If she needed help.’
‘I get it,’ said Neve, feeling a little frustrated. On the one hand she had Kit thinking the worst and on the other, Jake thinking the best. ‘I get all that. I’m just checking.’
Jake let out a long sigh. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, coming over to Neve again and facing her. He cupped the tops of her arms with his hands. ‘I shouldn’t take out my frustrations with your husband on you.’
Neve had to concentrate on answering. All she could think of was Jake’s hands touching her bare arms. The hot flush reared up again. ‘Forget it,’ she said.
Jake lowered his head, his chin brushing the side of her hair. She heard him take another deep breath, which he exhaled very slowly. She lifted her face a little, wanting to feel his cheek against her own. Jake moved his face down, his lips drifting over her ear and sweeping her jawline.
Neve closed her eyes and for a second allowed herself the luxury of this contact. She was folding. Caving into a desire she had been trying to ignore for some time now but with each meeting, it had grown stronger. Jake’s patience and understanding, his ability to allow her to safely explore her darkest thoughts without judging her, without asking questions, had given her the confidence to move forwards. He demanded nothing. So very different to what she was used to.
Kit.
Her mind churned up an image of Kit. Neve jolted backwards.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ she muttered.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ said Jake, with a resigned smile. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’
Neve brushed non-existent creases from her dress, mumbling more apologies. ‘I should be going,’ she said finally with some clarity.
‘You look beautiful in that dress,’ said Jake, his voice once again soft and low. ‘You look beautiful all the time.’
‘Thank you, but I need to go …’
He stepped between her and the door. ‘I know who the man is.’
‘You do? Who?’
‘I think it’s the new guy from the employment agency, Pillars, they tend to draft in the support workers for the kids at The Forum.’ He paused.
Neve nodded. ‘Yeah, I know.’
‘Did Kit say if he had longish hair, almost dreadlocks but not really?’
‘I can’t remember if he mentioned that or not,’ said Neve.
‘I’m pretty sure it’s Lee. I forget his surname now, but he came along on Monday and introduced himself briefly. I had a class from The Forum in, he was there with them for a few minutes. And he had a lip ring and eyebrow piercing.’
‘It’s got to be him, then,’ said Neve. ‘How old do you think he is?’
‘Late twenties, maybe?’ said Jake. ‘I’m not supposed to, but I can look it up on the system. The Forum sent me an updated register and it always has the staff details on there.’
‘Would you mind? Just so I can put Kit’s mind at rest.’
‘You can’t say I showed you, though. Data protection and all that.’
‘I won’t. I’ll just say you remembered him, which is more or less the truth.’
Jake gestured towards the office and Neve followed him through. The office was no more than a box room, with a small window overlooking the back of the building, held shut by several strips of duct tape placed along the bottom of the window frame.
‘That looks secure,’ said Neve, more for something to say than real concern. If she felt Jake’s presence earlier, being in this tiny confined space with him now was almost too much for her.
As if to emphasise the lack of space, Jake leaned round her and closed the door. ‘Just in case someone comes in unexpectedly,’ he said. ‘I could get into trouble for this.’
‘Oh, please, I don’t want you getting into trouble if it’s confidential information,’ said Neve.
‘I want to help. Don’t worry,’ reassured Jake. ‘No one need ever know. It can be our little secret.’ His hand brushed her arm as he moved to pull out the blue office chair. ‘And thanks for the reminder about the window. Must get that fixed. Do you want to sit down?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ said Neve. She perched on the edge of the desk and waited patiently as Jake opened up the register for The Forum.
‘Right, here we go,’ he said, scrolling down the names. He tapped the enter key and turned the screen to face Neve. ‘Lee Farnham.’
Neve gave a gasp at the name and again when she saw the picture smiling back at her. She looked up at Jake.
‘What’s up?’
Neve struggled to find words. She couldn’t say out loud what was really running around her head. She recognised the face immediately, despite the lapse of time. But she didn’t know him as Lee Farnham. She realised Jake was looking quizzically at her. ‘I … erm … I …’ Shit! Her mind was blank. Quick, think of something. ‘I thought … I mean, he’s older than I thought he would be, for some reason. Kit said he was older, but I thought he may be twenty, early twenties, he’s … erm … well, you know, older.’ She was gabbling.
‘Yeah, definitely older,’ said Jake. He moved the cursor to a box and double-clicked. ‘There, twenty-nine.’
Not only could Neve have told Jake his actual age without him having to look, she could have even recited his date of birth without hesitation. ‘Thanks,’ was all she said.
A voice from the studio calling out Jake’s name, made Neve jump.
‘Wait here,’ said Jake. He opened the door only enough for him to squeeze through. ‘All right, Stan. What’s up?’ He closed the door behind, leaving Neve alone in the room.
She turned to the screen and gave an involuntary shiver at the face looking back at her. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she whispered.
As she looked at the details again, she noticed a phone number. Realising she had only a few seconds before Jake came back, Neve took out her phone and took a quick photograph of the screen.
Just as she put her phone back in her bag, the door opened, and Jake reappeared.
‘Just Stan, wanted to borrow some turps,’ he said, shuffling round to the computer screen and logging out of the system. ‘And don’t worry about Lee. I expect he was just making sure Poppy was all right. That’s his job.’
‘Yeah, sure. Thanks again,’ said Neve, with what she hoped was a convincing smile. ‘I’d better go.’
‘Neve,’ said Jake, turning to face her.
‘Yes?’
‘Remember, I’m here if you ever need me. Whatever the occasion. You do know that, don’t you?’
‘I do. And thank you.’ His kindness was touching, and Neve appreciated his concern.
‘I probably shouldn’t say this, and I’ll probably kick myself afterwards, but what the hell…’ began Jake.
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ said Neve, gently.
‘I do, because likewise, if I don’t, I’ll kick myself for that too.’
‘Looks like you’re in for a good kicking,’ said Neve, trying to make light of the situation, even though the laugh she tagged on was full of nerves.
‘You deserve to be happy, Neve,’ he said, taking her hand in his and cupping it with the other.
Neve looked down at their hands and placed her free hand on top of his, her thumb brushed the acrylic paint smeared across his knuckles. ‘I am happy,’ she said. ‘On the whole, I am.’
‘You deserve to be happier,’ said Jake. ‘I can—’
Neve made a shushing sound, cutting through the sentence, moving her hand on his cheek. ‘I know,’ she said, looking him directly in the eye. She resisted the urge to kiss him, instead disengaged herself from him and stepped away. She was dangerously close to giving in to her desire. Pausing in the doorway, she turned to him. ‘You’re a good man, Jake Rees.’
He gave a rueful look, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing,’ he said and then added sincerely, ‘I meant what I said.’
‘I know.’
‘Go on then, or you’ll be late. Reassure that husband of yours that’s there’s nothing to worry about.’
Neve gave Jake a small smile. ‘Nothing to worry about at all.’
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Sue Fortin
‘A gripping portrayal of a family caught on the wrong side of the law’ JANE CORRYThe USA Today and #1 eBook bestseller of The Girl Who Lied and Sister SisterHAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?When fourteen-year-old Poppy vanishes on a family boating trip, suspicion soon turns close to home – to the two people who should do everything to keep her safe, her parents, Kit and Neve.Neve has a secret. Kit is lying.Everyone is watching.Who do you believe?
Copyright (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2019
Copyright © Sue Fortin 2019
Cover design by Cherie Chapman © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Cover images © iStock.com (http://www.iStock.com) (stairs and street light); Shutterstock.com (http://Shutterstock.com) (all other images)
Sue Fortin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008294489
Ebook Edition © January 2019 ISBN: 9780008294496
Version: 2018-11-01
Dedication (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
To Mum
With all my love
x
Contents
Cover (#ubbf70f07-dbdb-59a8-9d8a-fa0449b5c695)
Title Page (#ubb0bf8b0-219a-58bf-b300-95a024add11a)
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Acknowledgements
Also by Sue Fortin
About the Author
About the Publisher
Chapter 1 (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
Neve looked up from the toast she was buttering as her daughter came into the kitchen. Poppy was living up to the floral element of her name, wearing a kaleidoscope of colours; from her pink and yellow spotty top, to her bright red leggings and white socks.
‘Good morning, Poppy,’ said Neve, smiling fondly at the teenager she’d legally adopted when she had married Kit. ‘You look very colourful today.’
‘You look very colourful today as well,’ said Poppy, mimicking Neve’s Welsh accent. She sat down at the breakfast bar, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her middle finger.
Neve raised her eyebrows slightly, unsure if the middle finger was an intentional gesture on the 14-year-old’s behalf or not. Neve passed over the plate of toast. ‘Jam OK?’
‘You ask me that every day.’
‘One day you might surprise me and say you want marmalade.’
‘Why would I do that? I don’t like marmalade.’
Neve gave a shrug. ‘That’s why it would be a surprise.’
‘Where’s Dad?’ asked Poppy.
‘He’ll be down in a minute.’ As soon as the words left Neve’s mouth, she regretted them. Poppy would now be clock watching and if Kit didn’t arrive within the next sixty seconds, she would be chiding Neve for getting it wrong. Neve went for the distraction tactic.
‘Do you like my new dress?’ she said, stepping out from behind the breakfast bar and performing a theatrical twirl. ‘It’s not quite as bright as your top, but I thought the pale blue was pretty. A bit like the sky today.’
‘I don’t like blue.’
‘Not even this shade of blue?’
‘Dark blue, light blue, green-blue, black-blue. I don’t like any blue.’ Poppy took a bite of her toast.
Neve pulled a mock disappointed face and turned away before Poppy could see the small smile of amusement that was threatening. Neve knew Poppy well enough by now not to take offence at what she said. Poppy didn’t have the same thought filter as others. To Neve, it was just one of Poppy’s characteristics, whereas to others, it was disconcerting, borne out through ignorance and/or lack of empathy. It frustrated Neve to think that some people couldn’t see past this quirk and dismissed Poppy with words like ‘odd’ ‘weird’ and ‘strange’ or phrases like ‘not all there’ and ‘a bit slow’. She busied herself with opening the back door to let their 2-year-old Labrador in. ‘Willow likes my dress, don’t you, girl?’ said Neve, making a fuss of the dog, sending golden dog hairs floating to the floor. Willow had been an unexpected present from Kit two years ago. A fur-baby, as Neve’s friend Lucie had referred to the dog. ‘Your child substitute,’ she’d said, grinning.
It turned out that Lucie had been spot on with her observation, well, in as much as Kit had intended the gesture to reinforce his message to Neve that he had Poppy and when he’d said he didn’t want any more children, he’d meant it. However, Neve hadn’t yet given up hope of changing his mind.
‘I’m sitting next to Callum at lunch today,’ announced Poppy, distracting Neve from her thoughts.
‘Are you? That’s nice,’ said Neve, as Willow placed herself next to the bar stool and stared hopefully up at the toast. Neve poured her daughter a glass of apple juice as she tried to pluck Callum’s name from the filing cabinet of her mind.
Ah, yes, Callum.
Poppy had spoken about him a lot recently. He was new to St Joseph’s and from what Neve had gleaned from Poppy, he had just come out of mainstream education. Not dissimilar to Poppy’s own route to St Joseph’s. She’d had a hard time progressing through the education system and her transition into secondary school had been particularly painful. Twelve-year-olds weren’t as forgiving or accepting as primary school children; all Poppy’s needs were suddenly amplified and her coping mechanisms became inadequate. Her behaviour was sometimes unpredictable and her social skills under-developed, making her prime fodder for relentless teasing. Even though the Special Educational Needs team had tried to help Poppy, Kit and Neve had taken the decision to remove her from secondary school and send her to St Joseph’s where they had the resources, the time, the funding and the understanding. Poppy appeared to be thriving at the school so neither of them had regretted it for a moment.
‘He’s going to share his sandwiches with me,’ said Poppy, chomping on her toast. She wiped a splodge of jam from the corner of her mouth with her hand. ‘He has cucumber sandwiches.’
‘Just cucumber?’ Neve glanced at the clock, aware that Kit’s sixty seconds to put in an appearance were nearly up. Unfortunately, as she looked back at Poppy, Neve realised the time-check had not been missed.
‘Dad will be here in three seconds,’ said Poppy. ‘Two. One.’ She looked expectantly towards the door. ‘Dad?’
‘He won’t be long,’ said Neve. ‘Drink your apple juice.’ She slid the glass closer to Poppy.
‘You shouldn’t tell lies,’ said Poppy.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I meant approximately a minute.’
Poppy peered into her glass. ‘I don’t think blue suits you.’
Poppy’s honesty was as charming as it was painful at times. Neve had long since learned to take any negatives on the chin, but every now and again, it did hurt – just a little bit. She looked down at her dress. She’d only bought it last week and had loved it as soon as she had seen it. An unbidden wish to have a daughter who shared her likes and loves flicked through Neve’s mind, immediately followed by a rush of guilt. Neve wasn’t wishing Poppy was different, it was just sometimes the thought of another child, whose company was easier to navigate, made Neve yearn for that one thing her husband was denying her.
The sound of footsteps coming down the hall cancelled the need to take the conversation further. Kit came through into the kitchen, straightening his tie whilst carrying his jacket in the crook of his arm.
‘You’re late,’ said Poppy, without looking up at her father.
Neve exchanged a look with Kit. ‘Late?’ he queried and then dropped a kiss on his daughter’s head. ‘Morning, Poppy.’
‘You were supposed to be here about twenty seconds ago,’ said Neve, popping a coffee pod into the machine.
‘Twenty-five, actually,’ corrected Poppy.
‘Oops, sorry,’ said Kit. He moved around the central island counter and kissed Neve on the cheek. ‘What’s on the agenda for today?’
‘I have some shopping to do, then it’s the open afternoon at Poppy’s school.’ Kit’s blank expression told her he’d forgotten. Neve enlightened him. ‘Where we get to see the project they’ve been working on?’
‘Town and Country project,’ interjected Poppy. ‘You said you’d come.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said Kit, fiddling with his tie. ‘I did, didn’t I?’ He looked at Neve with a ‘help me out of this’ expression.
Neve was tempted to let him dig his own way out. Kit, of all people, should know that breaking a promise to Poppy wasn’t something that could be passed off easily. And why should it? Just because Poppy had a different perspective on life to most other people, why did he think it was OK to let her down? He’d been so distracted with his work lately, he seemed to be putting that above everything, including herself and Poppy. Neve had tried talking to Kit about it on several occasions, but he had been dismissive, saying Neve was over-reacting and he was just distracted while a new contract between the boat builders and marina was being negotiated. There was always some important contract being negotiated lately, Neve had thought wearily.
‘It’s not nice to break a promise,’ said Poppy, her head dipping lower as her gaze remained fixed on the contents of her glass.
‘I know, darling …’ Kit began. He held up his hands. ‘Sorry, I know I shouldn’t break a promise, but I have a really important meeting at work today. I can’t miss it.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’ Neve couldn’t help herself saying out loud, although the thought perhaps should have stayed in her head.
Kit glared at her. ‘Sean needs me at a meeting with the marina harbourmaster. They’re looking to agree on the development project for the new speedboat. You know that, I told you about it before.’ He turned back to his daughter. ‘Poppy, I’m really sorry and you’re right, breaking promises is not a good thing, but sometimes other things get in the way.’
‘You want to see Sean’s project but not mine.’ Poppy crammed the last piece of toast into her mouth.
Kit turned to Neve again. ‘You’ll be there, won’t you?’
‘I will.’ Neve kept thoughts of ‘aren’t I always’ and ‘why wouldn’t I be?’ to herself. She didn’t want to highlight to Poppy her growing frustration at Kit’s increasing lack of commitment to his daughter. She was beginning to feel like a single parent.
‘Neve will tell me all about it,’ said Kit. ‘I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you out on the boat at the weekend. How about that?’
It was almost as if he’d read Neve’s thoughts, although a one-off boat trip wasn’t the same as day-to-day involvement.
Poppy stopped chewing and cast her gaze in Kit’s direction, although still avoided eye contact. ‘OK.’
Neve watched as Kit heaved a sigh of relief. He grinned broadly at Poppy. ‘Excellent. Now, I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.’
‘Bye.’ Poppy got down from the stool and padded out of the kitchen.
‘Brush your teeth!’ called Neve after her.
‘Thanks for that,’ said Kit.
‘I didn’t do anything,’ replied Neve.
‘Exactly,’ said Kit sarcastically.
‘I think you’ve got away with that very lightly. A trip out on the boat.’
‘It’s just one of those things. I can’t avoid this meeting.’ Kit looked over at the shopping list Neve had prepared earlier. He picked up the pen and added to it.
Neve turned the list back round to read the addition. ‘Condoms.’
‘Yep. We used the last one at the weekend. Remember?’ He winked at her and patted her backside.
‘How could I forget?’ The words came out with a touch more resentment than Neve intended. Kit’s insistence to always use a condom was beginning to erode Neve’s belief that she would ever change his mind about having a baby. In the hot anticipation of making love, she’d mentioned the thorny subject to Kit and managed to elicit a promise from him that he would think about it again. Now, Neve slipped her arms around Kit’s neck. ‘I also remember our conversation.’
‘About?’
‘Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten that too,’ said Neve. She cocked her head to one side. ‘You know, you were going to think about it again.’
The smile on Kit’s face dropped like a stone. He exhaled a long breath and gently removed Neve’s hands from his neck. ‘We agreed.’
‘We didn’t. You decided. There’s a difference.’
‘Neve, I don’t want to give you false hope; the answer is still no.’
Neve felt the tears spike her eyes. She blinked hard. She felt desperate. She was finding it increasingly more and more difficult to contemplate a life without a child of her own. She knew there was no middle ground on the issue, no compromise, and this only served to frustrate her even more. One of them had to do a complete U-turn. ‘Please don’t just say no without thinking about it. I mean, really thinking about it. I’m on the verge of begging you.’
‘And we’ve had this conversation so many times lately. Come on, Neve, it’s not like I’ve suddenly changed my mind about it. I’ve always been honest with you. You’re being unfair. I do wish you could just accept it.’
‘And I wish you could accept the risk of something tragic happening again is remote. I’m willing to take the chance.’
‘I’m not. I’m not willing to risk losing another wife in childbirth and …’ he glanced over his shoulder, ‘… and having another child with special needs as a result,’ he finished. He fixed Neve with a glare, daring her to challenge him, before striding round to the other side of the island worktop. ‘I’m not having this conversation again. Understand?’
Sadly, Neve did understand. She had always thought that she might be able to persuade Kit to change his mind. Never in a million years had she thought that when they first had the conversation about increasing their little family unit from three to four, his reluctance was, in fact, a determination. He was never going to have any more children. He was never going to subject himself to the trauma he went through with his first wife. And he certainly was never going to run the risk of having another child starved of oxygen and suffering brain damage as a result. She understood it wasn’t that he didn’t love Poppy. He totally loved her, but his time and emotions were stretched enough looking after just one child, so looking after two was a physical and mental impossibility for Kit. Neve’s thoughts turned back to her adopted daughter and she followed Kit out to the hall.
‘Are you sure there’s no way you can cancel Sean and get to Poppy’s presentation?’
‘No. I can’t. I’m sorry,’ said Kit. ‘You’ll be there; that will make her happy.’
‘Just as well I cancelled my art class, then,’ said Neve. She couldn’t help feeling peeved at Kit’s lack of concern at missing Poppy’s presentation, and in assuming that she’d be there to pick up the pieces. It didn’t matter to him that she had to cancel something that was important to her.
Kit gave a laugh. ‘It’s just an art class. Not like it’s a job, or anything.’
‘And whose fault is that? You don’t want me to have a job!’
‘A lot of women would love to be in your shoes and not have to work. I like you here at home, so does Poppy. Why are you getting all worked up about an art class anyway?’ asked Kit.
‘Because it’s not just an art class,’ said Neve, resisting the urge to stamp her foot in frustration. ‘It’s my art therapy class.’
‘It won’t hurt you to miss it just this once,’ said Kit.
‘You’re being so unreasonable,’ said Neve. ‘Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, I’ve gone out of my way to make sure I’m there for Poppy. Why can’t you?’
Kit gave an exaggerated sigh, as he spun round to face Neve. ‘Tell me, is it the fact that you’ve had to cancel your art class that’s pissing you off or the fact that you won’t be seeing Picasso this week?’
‘What are you talking about?’ Neve could feel the colour rising up her neck.
‘Jake. You’re always going on about him, how he understands art so well, how he uses colours to interpret moods, how the passion shines out from his paintings,’ said Kit, mimicking Neve’s voice. ‘You’ve even started making your face a work of art in the mornings. More red lipstick, fussing over your hair. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.’
‘What? Are you mad?’ asked Neve, hoping her indignation was convincing enough. Really, she felt embarrassed; it was true, she had been fussing over her hair a bit more and as much as she tried to deny it to herself, she knew deep down it was for Jake’s benefit. But to be called out on it by her husband was humiliating. She genuinely didn’t think Kit had noticed the extra attention she was giving to her appearance and she was annoyed with herself for being so naïve. The last thing she wanted was Kit thinking she was involved with Jake in any way, although, she had to admit to herself that she found Jake attractive and there was no denying it was reciprocated. Not that either of them had said anything to each other, but she could feel it fizzling in the air between them.
‘I think the fact that your face has turned bright red and you have that blotchy rash across your neck is all the proof I need.’ Kit took a step closer. ‘Is there something you want to tell me, Neve?’
Neve held her nerve, more from pride than innocence. ‘There is nothing to tell,’ she said. ‘Jake is my art tutor, that’s all.’ She paused, not blinking an eye, daring Kit to say something more. ‘Typical of you to jump to conclusions.’
Then, to her surprise, he gave a smile followed by a fleeting kiss on the mouth. ‘Good. Let’s keep it that way,’ he said, before turning and calling to Poppy. ‘I’m going now, Poppy. I’ll see you later.’
Neve watched as Kit waited for a response from his daughter. She fought hard to hold back the tears that were threatening. Kit didn’t know how lucky he was to have a child of his own. He loved Poppy deeply and was even more protective of her because of what had happened and how the events of the past had affected her and, yet, he couldn’t understand how not having a child herself tormented Neve. She loved Poppy, there was no question about that, she’d been in Neve’s life for the past seven years, the last five as her legally adopted daughter, but Poppy wasn’t Neve’s. The inner desire and need to have a child of her own had never diminished and, if anything, grew more intense as her now 29-year-old body clock ticked along. And as much as it upset her, it made her cross too. Who the hell was Kit to say what she could and couldn’t have?
‘Where is she?’ said Kit, impatience evident in his voice.
‘I sent her up to brush her teeth,’ said Neve. She joined Kit at the foot of the stairs and called up. ‘Poppy! Your dad’s going. He wants to say goodbye.’
No answer.
‘Poppy!’ Kit had raised his voice to a shout.
They both listened for an answer and when met with silence, they exchanged a look.
‘I’ll go and get her,’ said Neve, not saying what they were both thinking.
Neve knocked at the closed bathroom door. ‘Poppy? You OK?’ She strained to hear the sound of Poppy brushing her teeth or the water running. Neve tried the handle and the door opened without resistance. The bathroom was empty.
Neve went along the landing to Poppy’s bedroom. She repeated the procedure of knocking on the door and waiting for an answer and when she didn’t receive a response, she opened the door. Once again, the room was empty. Neve felt her stomach give a little dip. ‘Please don’t do this,’ she whispered as she made a thorough check of all the rooms upstairs.
She leaned over the bannisters. ‘See if she’s in the car or outside.’
She heard Kit give a groan as he strode out through the door. Neve hurried down the stairs to find her phone. Standing in the kitchen, she dialled Poppy’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. She tried a second time, but got the same result.
In the last three or four months, Poppy had taken to running off in a sulk whenever she didn’t get her own way. It started when Kit had said no to her having her ears pierced and said she had to wait until she was sixteen. Despite Neve trying to convince him to change his mind, he’d refused, and it had resulted in Poppy running out the door. They’d found her twenty minutes later sitting on the swings at the park. The time after that, they’d argued about whether she could watch something on TV which both Neve and Kit had deemed unsuitable. Poppy had snuck out to her friend’s house in a strop, sending Neve and Kit into a ten-minute frenzy trying to locate her, before Libby’s mother, Heather, had rung to say Poppy was there. The last time, Poppy had made it all the way into town in an attempt to reach Kit’s mother’s house but had got hopelessly lost at the bus station and fortunately a concerned passenger had called the police. The repercussions had been embarrassing and unpleasant as the police had involved Poppy’s healthcare worker and school, all in the name of safeguarding. It had taken a two-hour meeting to convince the authorities that Poppy was safe and in no danger from her or Kit. No one wanted a repeat performance of that day.
Trying Poppy’s number for a third time, Neve hurried down the hall to the front door.
‘She’s not out there either. I’ve checked the front and back garden. No sign of her,’ said Kit, meeting Neve at the door. ‘Are you ringing her now?’
‘Yes, but it’s going straight to voicemail. She must have switched it off.’ Neve cut the call.
‘For fuck’s sake.’
‘We’d better go and look for her.’ Neve grabbed her car keys from the table. ‘I’ll go in my car and look in the village and the playing field. I’ll give Heather a call too, just in case she’s turned up there.’
‘I’ll ring Mum.’
‘Don’t do that yet, she’ll only worry. Let’s see if we can find Poppy in the village first. Check down by the river and the meadow.’ She looked at Kit as his expression shifted from annoyance to concern. She felt a wave of sympathy for him. ‘Don’t worry, she can’t be far away.’
Chapter 2 (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
It was easy for Neve to say ‘don’t worry’, thought Kit, jumping into his Mercedes; it wasn’t her daughter that was missing. He immediately felt like a shit for even thinking that. He knew how much his wife thought of his daughter and he knew it would hurt Neve to know he’d even gone there with his thoughts. All the same, when it was your own flesh and blood, it was different.
He pushed back the fear – it was a useless emotion which clouded judgement. Instead he concentrated on his anger; that he could deal with. Poppy knew they would be worried, especially after last time with that bloody social worker, or healthcare visitor, or whatever the hell she was, prying into their lives. Implying that she didn’t fully trust him or Neve. Who the fuck was she? The old cow would have a field day now if they didn’t find Poppy soon.
Kit drove down the main street of the village past the coffee shop where Neve’s friend, Lucie, worked. The place wasn’t open yet and there was no sign of Poppy hanging around outside. Kit wasn’t even sure if Poppy had any money on her. He should have got Neve to check the money jar on Poppy’s windowsill.
The war memorial was at the end of the street and the bus stop was filling up with kids from the local secondary school who were bussed in and out each day. It was also the pick-up point for the St Joseph school bus. Kit scanned the burgundy blazers of the secondary school kids already waiting, hoping to spot Poppy in her home clothes in line with St Joseph’s no uniform policy.
For a moment he thought he saw her, but the flowery top belonged to a sixth former. Some of the pupils were turning to stare at the slowing car. Feeling conspicuous and the need to explain he wasn’t some weirdo, Kit put the window down and leaned across the centre console.
‘Just looking for my daughter, Poppy Masters. She gets the St Joseph’s bus normally. Have you seen her?’
The shrugs and blank looks on the kids’ faces gave him his answer.
‘The St Joseph’s bus is just coming now,’ said one of the girls nodding down the road.
Kit watched the yellow and white minibus pull up alongside the kerb. Kit jumped out of his car and went over to the driver.
‘Hi, I’m Kit Masters,’ he began. ‘My daughter Poppy usually gets this bus.’
The driver gave Kit an expectant look. ‘Where is she? I can’t hang about, I get into trouble if I’m more than five minutes late.’
‘Yeah, sure. Erm, she’s …’ Kit stopped himself explaining any further. He didn’t want to draw attention to the fact she was missing just yet. ‘She’s not getting the bus today,’ he said. ‘Just thought I’d let you know, seeing as she’s your only pick-up from the village. Didn’t want you hanging around for nothing.’
The driver looked surprised. ‘Oh, right. Well, thanks very much for letting me know. I wish other parents were as considerate. Save me a whole load of time that would.’ He gave Kit a nod of thanks and the automatic door wheezed shut.
Kit watched the minibus head off towards the bridge. He gave a sigh and hopped back in his car whilst wishing he could give Poppy a bloody good telling off for this one.
Next stop was the river. Neve and Poppy often walked the dog down here and thinking about it logically, it was probably one of the most obvious places to look for her. Parking the Mercedes in the small car park alongside the riverbank, Kit jogged along the path.
Despite it being summer, it was muddy underfoot from the recent rain and every now and then he had to lengthen his stride to clear a puddle. He had his best shoes on today, ready for the meeting later, and despite his athletic efforts to avoid the grey squelchy mud washed down from the surrounding chalk hills, it was easing its way over the stitched welt of his shoes.
There was a bench around the corner, just before the bridge. Perhaps Poppy would be there? He quickened his pace in anticipation, but his heart plummeted at the sight of the empty seat.
His gaze travelled further along the footpath to the arched bridge which stretched across the River Amble. He peered into the shadows of the arch and could just make out two figures leaning on the handrail overlooking the fast-flowing tidal water. He sped up even more.
As he neared the bridge, relief was the first emotion that swept through him as he recognised his daughter. This was rapidly followed by alarm; who the hell was she with? It looked like a man.
‘Poppy!’ His voice boomed out and he saw his daughter physically jump. The man’s reaction was less exaggerated. He simply turned his head to one side, looking towards Kit, and casually moved his body so he was leaning back against the railings, resting on his elbows.
Now Kit was within a few feet of them he could see the man’s face. It was hard to say how old he was; the beard gave the initial impression that he was perhaps in his early thirties, a few years younger than Kit. The man had an eyebrow piercing and a lip ring. Kit wouldn’t have been at all surprised if the piercings extended to other parts of the man’s body too. He wore a scruffy army-green parka with a sweat shirt underneath, loose tracksuit bottoms and trainers.
‘It’s my dad,’ Poppy said as Kit levelled with them.
The man took a drag of his cigarette which Kit thought looked rather too fat to be a regular roll-up. An earthy turpentine smell hung in the air. Kit glared at him. He looked like one of those do-gooder social workers who were attached to The Forum – a half-way home for young adults who, according to the local council, needed extra support when making the transition from being in care to independent living. Personally, Kit considered it to be a half-way home for kids who needed a kick up the backside and a reality check. A bit of hard graft hadn’t done him any harm. Kit so easily could have played the victim card when he was sixteen and his dad died, but instead he’d seen it as a wake-up call to grasp life with both hands, to work hard and to make his own luck.
He turned his attention to his daughter. ‘Come on, Poppy, you need to go to school.’ He held out his arm indicating the way and expecting compliance.
‘I don’t want to go,’ said Poppy.
‘You don’t have any choice.’ Kit fixed his daughter with a firm look.
‘Take it easy,’ said the man.
Kit turned his stare onto the stranger. ‘I don’t know who you are but mind your own business.’
‘He’s my friend,’ Poppy announced, folding her arms.
‘Since when?’ Kit could feel his temper rising.
‘Since I got here.’ Poppy looked defiantly at her father.
The man smirked, leaned his head back and blew out a plume of smoke.
‘I don’t care who the hell he is,’ said Kit. ‘You’re coming with me now. You’ve got school. You’re making us all late. Neve is off looking for you.’
‘I don’t want to go to school.’
‘Tough.’ Kit was aware he was handling the situation all wrong, but the bloke was pissing him off. Unsettling him. He didn’t like the thought of some man sniffing around his daughter. She was vulnerable and unable to read the unspoken social gestures or display the right signs herself. She would get herself into all sorts of trouble if she wasn’t careful.
Poppy picked up her bag, scowling at her father, but as she turned to her companion, the scowl was exchanged for a smile. ‘See you again,’ she said.
‘Yeah. I’d like that.’
Pressure rose in Kit’s chest. He put a hand on Poppy’s arm, shepherding her down the path, before turning and going back to the man. He got right up in the bloke’s face. ‘No, you fucking won’t.’ His voice barely much more than a whisper. ‘You stay away from my daughter. She’s fourteen. I’ll have you arrested for grooming a minor.’ He paused as he fought to keep his breathing under control. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying, or do I need to say it in simpler terms?’
‘I know what you’re saying but as she told you, we’re just friends. There’s no law against that.’
‘Don’t be clever with me. You go anywhere near her again and I’ll personally see to it that you’re sorry.’
With that Kit marched back down the path, urging Poppy along and ignoring her protests that he was being rude to her friend. Kit sighed inwardly at her simplistic view on the world.
‘You can’t keep going off like that,’ said Kit, as he opened the passenger door for Poppy to get in. ‘It’s irresponsible.’ He gave the door a slam and took a moment to compose himself. Flying off the handle to Poppy right now wouldn’t be the best way to tackle the problem. With a remarkable amount of control, Kit got into the car with a much calmer air about him and gave Neve a call.
‘Have you found her?’ Neve asked immediately on answering the call.
‘Yeah. She’s here with me now. She’s fine.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Neve. ‘I was dreading having to phone the police again after what happened last time.’
‘She was with some bloke – scruffy looking. Claimed he was her friend.’
‘A man? Who?’ came Neve’s voice.
‘I don’t know. A friend, apparently. I don’t know if he had something to do with The Forum. Looked the type.’
‘Which is?’
‘Scruffy. Beard. Eyebrow piercing. Lip ring. I know that doesn’t narrow it down a lot, but he looked too old to be one of the kids from The Forum.’
‘You think he works there?’
‘Like I said, I don’t know. Sod’s law that Poppy should bump into someone like that.’ He cast a glance at his daughter sitting beside him, staring out of the window, her back half-turned on him.
‘We’ll have to speak to her again about going off in a strop,’ said Neve.
‘Definitely,’ said Kit. ‘We’ll do it tonight. I’m going to drop Poppy off at school now and head straight to the office.’ He paused, before speaking, this time ensuring his voice was softer. ‘Look, about earlier. I’m sorry we argued. Do you want to call into the marina later and we can grab a coffee?’
‘Erm … when were you thinking?’
He didn’t miss the hesitation in her voice. ‘I don’t know. In about an hour?’
‘Let’s say eleven. I’ve got a few things to do first.’
Kit wanted to ask what was so important, but he let it go for now to avoid another argument and attempted to ignore the suggestions at the back of his mind as to what Neve was doing. ‘That will be great. See you then.’ He quit the call and started the engine. ‘Right, better get you to school,’ he said, with a sigh. It was barely nine o’clock and it had already proved a stressful day. He could really have done without Poppy doing a disappearing act. He felt frustrated with her for going off like that, but more so because she didn’t, or rather couldn’t, grasp the dangers and the repercussions. He let out another sigh as he reminded himself that it wasn’t Poppy’s fault and he wasn’t frustrated at her – just at the limitations of her cognitive development.
‘Neve is wearing her blue dress today,’ said Poppy, shifting her position in the seat, so she was looking straight ahead.
Kit was used to his daughter’s sudden change in both mood and conversation. ‘It’s a nice dress,’ he answered.
‘Neve always wears her blue dress when she wants to look pretty.’
‘And pretty she looks,’ said Kit. As he spoke, he thought back to Neve that morning. She did indeed look pretty.
‘Callum is sharing his cucumber sandwiches with me.’
‘That’s nice,’ replied Kit, attempting to keep up with the conversation. He tried to concentrate on Poppy’s detailed and elaborate explanation of the seating arrangement in the school canteen, but his mind kept flitting back to Neve in her blue dress. Although his daughter’s observations often appeared random, they were nevertheless spot on. Why was Neve wearing the blue dress? What was she doing this morning that had meant putting off coming to see him? Did it involve Jake?
An unexpected image of Neve rolling around on white linen bed sheets with Jake in a bohemian studio loft room, surrounded by various pieces of art, took Kit by surprise. He gave a shake of his head to rid the thought from his mind. Surely, Neve wouldn’t be involved with a penniless art teacher. What did he have to offer?
Another black thought broke free. Perhaps it wasn’t the material things that interested Neve. Perhaps she was looking for something else. Excitement? Attention? Love?
No. His imagination was getting the better of him, he argued. Neve wouldn’t do that to him. No, Kit was just over-reacting after a bad morning.
Despite this reasoning, the thought of Neve meeting Jake wouldn’t leave him, and Kit found himself becoming more agitated with every thought.
Chapter 3 (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
Neve held her phone to her chest after she had finished the call with Kit and contemplated their conversation. She was relieved Poppy had been found, a little annoyed that her daughter had gone off again and caused all this fuss, and was grateful that the police didn’t have to be involved, but the overriding emotion was concern as to who Poppy had been with.
Kit had mentioned The Forum, maybe she had been with one of the kids from there? Although, technically, she shouldn’t really describe them as kids, they were young adults, ranging from eighteen to twenty-four. Kit was very disparaging of The Forum and its residents, which niggled Neve. She had met some of the youngsters at Jake’s art studio and, on the whole, she had felt a certain amount of empathy with them. Most of them, once you got to know them, were trying to get their lives on track having come through the care system, their backgrounds having little or no positive role models and often horrendous family lives. Neve knew only too well how bad family life could be when you were a young adult.
She wondered who Poppy had met and, as Kit had thought, if they could possibly be from The Forum. She tried to recall the ones she had seen at Jake’s studio but no one in particular sprang to mind matching the description that Kit gave.
There was, of course, one person she could ask – Jake. Neve was aware of the little flutter her stomach gave as she thought of contacting Jake and further acknowledged that it only served to back up Kit’s observations earlier about how she was making more of an effort with her appearance. It was a good job Kit wasn’t aware of her anticipation, it would only upgrade his observation to suspicion, when in actual fact, there wasn’t anything to be suspicious about.
She took out her phone and tapped out a message.
Hi, just wondered if you had five minutes to spare this morning?
She received a reply almost straight away.
For you, of course! I have a break between classes in 20 mins.
Great. See you then.
Neve pushed her phone into her pocket and couldn’t help smiling to herself at Jake’s immediate response and willingness to help. It was flattering and something which Kit hadn’t done in a long time.
Rather than take the car, Neve decided to kill two birds with one stone and take Willow for a walk at the same time. Jake’s art studio was on the outskirts of the village but less than a ten-minute walk away.
It was the beginning of July and despite promises of better weather, today was definitely not keeping schedule with the forecast. As Neve took her raincoat from the peg, she found herself checking her reflection in the mirror and wondering if her lipstick needed touching up.
She sighed and tutted at herself, Kit’s observation had been right, but it irritated her all the same. ‘A girl’s allowed to wear lipstick,’ she said out loud defiantly as she stood up straighter and pushed a stray strand of hair off her face. With that, she shrugged on her jacket and with Willow hooked onto the lead, she set off for the art studio.
As Neve crossed the bridge and turned into Copperthorne Lane, the earlier stomach-fluttering excitement made a return. This was so silly. She was a grown woman. A married woman. Jake Rees was her art tutor. She couldn’t let the current harmless mutual attraction develop into anything else. It was one thing thinking these things and having secret fantasies but playing them out in real life was something else.
Jake had converted an old farm building into a working studio about three years ago and lived above the premises. An artist himself, he supplemented his income with traditional art lessons and art therapy. He was involved with the young adults at The Forum – his social conscience, he called it. Those well off enough to pay for lessons and therapy were also funding those less fortunate who needed support in processing their emotions, thus helping them to make a positive future for themselves.
Neve admired his philosophy. Jake did what a lot of people only talked about, or superficially advocated by pointlessly sharing social media memes and believing that was a way to help. Jake acted on his thoughts, he didn’t just share and flick through to another status update. And of course, there were those who didn’t even do the whole sharing thing. Those like her husband who thought kids today expected everything to be handed to them on a plate and what they really needed was a dose of reality.
Neve sighed. Kit had lost his empathy somewhere along the way. He hadn’t been like that when they married, she was sure, but somewhere, somehow, his compassion had leaked away, leaving behind someone she found hard to understand.
Copperthorne Lane wasn’t much more than a gravel track and as she rounded the bend, the converted buildings came into view. Neve pushed open the stable door and poked her head into the studio where a group of around six artists were standing in front of their easels in a semi-circle. Neve couldn’t see the subject matter but from the boards bearing the half-completed charcoal drawings of a camera, photo albums and some scattered photographs, it looked like they were studying still life.
She caught sight of Jake talking earnestly with one of the women and leaned against the door frame, enjoying watching him without him noticing her. His dark hair, with its relaxed curl, skimmed his eyebrows and equally dark lashes.
‘Hey,’ said Jake, looking up and smiling. He excused himself from his student and came over, kissing her on the cheek. ‘How are you?’
‘Hey,’ replied Neve, taking in a deep breath of his aftershave, mixed with a more overpowering smell of turps. ‘I’m good, thanks.’ She nodded at the artists busy working on their canvasses. The woman Jake had been talking to looked up and smiled. Neve had seen her a few times at the studio but didn’t know her name. She returned the smile. ‘Full house today,’ she said to Jake.
‘Wednesday specials,’ said Jake, lowering his voice and dipping his head so his mouth was near her ear. ‘OAP day.’
Neve gave a small giggle. She flinched inwardly. It wasn’t even that funny what Jake said. She needed to get a grip of herself. ‘I can come back later if you’re busy,’ she found herself saying.
‘Not at all. Come on through. Bring the dog with you as well.’ He placed his hand on the small of Neve’s back and guided her through the main studio.
Neve smiled at another of Jake’s students. This time a gentleman, who Neve estimated to be in his early seventies.
The man stopped what he was doing to make a fuss of Willow. ‘Aren’t you lovely,’ he said, stroking the dog’s ears. ‘I’d better not stroke you too much, you’ll end up with paint all over you, then your mistress won’t be pleased.’
‘Your picture is looking great, Stan,’ said Jake. ‘I like what you’ve done with the greens there. You remembered what we said last week about blending the colours. Good stuff.’
Stan beamed like a schoolboy. ‘Thanks. I wasn’t sure about this area here. Do you ...?’
Jake moved his hand from Neve’s back to Stan’s shoulder as if they were mates down the pub, standing at the bar with their pints. ‘This is good, but remember, Stan, it’s your painting.’ He stood back and addressed the rest of the group. ‘OK, if you want to take a ten-minute break.’
Jake ushered Neve through to the smaller studio at the rear of the main room, which, in turn, led through to a small office.
Neve followed him through the open door and as he closed it behind them, she rested against the table in the middle of the room, which suddenly felt small and intimate. She’d worked in here before, it was a room Jake used for one-to-one sessions or with art therapy students who, for one reason or another, weren’t happy working in a larger group. Neve liked it in here, she felt she could be freer with her art. When she was alone or if it was just Jake in the room, she was able to express her deepest thoughts, her strongest fears and her darkest emotions on the canvas. There was no one to question her work or ask for an interpretation or, indeed, attempt to interpret it themselves. She hated that. They could just as well have been examining her naked body.
‘So, what do I owe this pleasure?’ asked Jake, taking the lead from her hand and hooking it under the leg of a stool. He moved to stand in front of her, his arms folded and dipped his head to seek out her eyes.
Neve had been keeping her focus on Willow, it was the safest place to look, she had decided. Sensing his gaze, Neve looked up at him. Her heart was beating faster than necessary, and she took a deep breath to regain some sort of control.
‘Well,’ she began. ‘Erm … I can’t make the class today after all.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said Jake. ‘A real shame. It’s not the same without you.’ His voice had dropped in both volume and tone.
‘I’m sorry, but Poppy has a presentation at school which I promised I’d attend and I have to meet Kit soon.’
‘Have to?’ said Jake. ‘You know, Neve, you’re a grown woman, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’
Neve’s face was only inches away from Jake’s. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. ‘I’ve already said I would.’ She managed to eke out the words, her eyes still magnetised to those gorgeous brown ones of his.
The sound of Neve’s phone pinging through a text message broke the moment. Jake stepped back as she fumbled in her handbag for her mobile.
Decided to go the whole hog. I’ve organised a spot of lunch on the boat for us. See you soon. Xx
Guilt flushed through her. Kit was clearly going out of his way to patch things up and here she was coming dangerously close to Jake in more ways than one.
She moved over to the window, not because she particularly wanted to admire the view, but she wasn’t sure she trusted herself being so close to Jake. ‘We’ve just spent the past half-hour looking for Poppy. We had a bit of an argument at home and she went off in a huff.’
‘Oh no! Did you find her?’
‘Yes. She’s at school now,’ said Neve, forcing herself to sound composed. ‘Kit found her down by the river with a friend.’
‘That’s a relief. I take it she’s all right, then?’
‘Yes, she’s fine. Just being a grumpy teenager, really.’
‘And what about you? Are you all right?’ asked Jake, coming to stand beside her. ‘It can be a tough job looking out for everyone. You mustn’t forget about yourself.’
If Neve moved her right arm just a fraction away from her body, she knew she would make contact with Jake. A fierce warmth shot through her and she was certain her neck was blotchy.
Neve forced herself to continue looking out at the meadow and the river beyond. Jake’s compassion was both immense and tender. How could something so gentle batter her resolve so forcefully?
She tried to gulp down the little cry that erupted in her throat, but without luck.
‘Hey, hey, hey,’ said Jake, slipping his arm around her shoulder.
She shrugged him away. ‘Don’t,’ she said, muffling another heavy breath with her hand. ‘Too much sympathy and I’ll be a blubbering wreck.’
Jake held his hands up and took a step back. He gave a smile full of kindness. ‘I don’t want to be responsible for making you cry,’ he said.
‘Ignore me, I’m being silly. Just a bit stressed after this morning.’
‘You know where I am if ever you want to talk,’ he said.
‘I do. Thank you, Jake. You’re a good friend.’
His smile downgraded to sadness as he acknowledged her comment with a small nod, before picking up some perfectly clean brushes and busying himself with washing them under the tap. He wrapped a towel around them and squeezed the water from the bristles, before popping them into a jam jar on the windowsill. ‘So, what did you want me for?’ he said, at last. ‘You texted.’
‘It was about Poppy,’ said Neve. ‘Kit didn’t recognise the friend she was with this morning and thought he might be from The Forum. I just wondered if you might know who it was.’
‘A lad? Why do you think he was from The Forum?’
‘It was a man, actually. Well, older than Poppy by quite some years, according to Kit. He had a beard and an eyebrow piercing. Lip ring too.’ She was uncomfortable at Kit’s assumptions and stereotyping but equally aware that she was endorsing this by posing the question to Jake.
‘So, you assumed he was from The Forum and must be bad news?’ said Jake, an accusing tone creeping into his voice.
‘Sorry. It’s not me …’ Neve trailed off, feeling both disloyal to Kit and embarrassed.
‘They get a bad press round here,’ said Jake. ‘Some have just had it tough.’
‘I know that, honestly,’ said Neve. ‘I just thought I could put Kit’s mind at rest, that’s all.’
‘Just because a man was talking to Poppy, it doesn’t mean he was trying to groom her or something,’ carried on Jake. ‘He might actually have been trying to find out if she was OK. If she needed help.’
‘I get it,’ said Neve, feeling a little frustrated. On the one hand she had Kit thinking the worst and on the other, Jake thinking the best. ‘I get all that. I’m just checking.’
Jake let out a long sigh. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, coming over to Neve again and facing her. He cupped the tops of her arms with his hands. ‘I shouldn’t take out my frustrations with your husband on you.’
Neve had to concentrate on answering. All she could think of was Jake’s hands touching her bare arms. The hot flush reared up again. ‘Forget it,’ she said.
Jake lowered his head, his chin brushing the side of her hair. She heard him take another deep breath, which he exhaled very slowly. She lifted her face a little, wanting to feel his cheek against her own. Jake moved his face down, his lips drifting over her ear and sweeping her jawline.
Neve closed her eyes and for a second allowed herself the luxury of this contact. She was folding. Caving into a desire she had been trying to ignore for some time now but with each meeting, it had grown stronger. Jake’s patience and understanding, his ability to allow her to safely explore her darkest thoughts without judging her, without asking questions, had given her the confidence to move forwards. He demanded nothing. So very different to what she was used to.
Kit.
Her mind churned up an image of Kit. Neve jolted backwards.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ she muttered.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ said Jake, with a resigned smile. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’
Neve brushed non-existent creases from her dress, mumbling more apologies. ‘I should be going,’ she said finally with some clarity.
‘You look beautiful in that dress,’ said Jake, his voice once again soft and low. ‘You look beautiful all the time.’
‘Thank you, but I need to go …’
He stepped between her and the door. ‘I know who the man is.’
‘You do? Who?’
‘I think it’s the new guy from the employment agency, Pillars, they tend to draft in the support workers for the kids at The Forum.’ He paused.
Neve nodded. ‘Yeah, I know.’
‘Did Kit say if he had longish hair, almost dreadlocks but not really?’
‘I can’t remember if he mentioned that or not,’ said Neve.
‘I’m pretty sure it’s Lee. I forget his surname now, but he came along on Monday and introduced himself briefly. I had a class from The Forum in, he was there with them for a few minutes. And he had a lip ring and eyebrow piercing.’
‘It’s got to be him, then,’ said Neve. ‘How old do you think he is?’
‘Late twenties, maybe?’ said Jake. ‘I’m not supposed to, but I can look it up on the system. The Forum sent me an updated register and it always has the staff details on there.’
‘Would you mind? Just so I can put Kit’s mind at rest.’
‘You can’t say I showed you, though. Data protection and all that.’
‘I won’t. I’ll just say you remembered him, which is more or less the truth.’
Jake gestured towards the office and Neve followed him through. The office was no more than a box room, with a small window overlooking the back of the building, held shut by several strips of duct tape placed along the bottom of the window frame.
‘That looks secure,’ said Neve, more for something to say than real concern. If she felt Jake’s presence earlier, being in this tiny confined space with him now was almost too much for her.
As if to emphasise the lack of space, Jake leaned round her and closed the door. ‘Just in case someone comes in unexpectedly,’ he said. ‘I could get into trouble for this.’
‘Oh, please, I don’t want you getting into trouble if it’s confidential information,’ said Neve.
‘I want to help. Don’t worry,’ reassured Jake. ‘No one need ever know. It can be our little secret.’ His hand brushed her arm as he moved to pull out the blue office chair. ‘And thanks for the reminder about the window. Must get that fixed. Do you want to sit down?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ said Neve. She perched on the edge of the desk and waited patiently as Jake opened up the register for The Forum.
‘Right, here we go,’ he said, scrolling down the names. He tapped the enter key and turned the screen to face Neve. ‘Lee Farnham.’
Neve gave a gasp at the name and again when she saw the picture smiling back at her. She looked up at Jake.
‘What’s up?’
Neve struggled to find words. She couldn’t say out loud what was really running around her head. She recognised the face immediately, despite the lapse of time. But she didn’t know him as Lee Farnham. She realised Jake was looking quizzically at her. ‘I … erm … I …’ Shit! Her mind was blank. Quick, think of something. ‘I thought … I mean, he’s older than I thought he would be, for some reason. Kit said he was older, but I thought he may be twenty, early twenties, he’s … erm … well, you know, older.’ She was gabbling.
‘Yeah, definitely older,’ said Jake. He moved the cursor to a box and double-clicked. ‘There, twenty-nine.’
Not only could Neve have told Jake his actual age without him having to look, she could have even recited his date of birth without hesitation. ‘Thanks,’ was all she said.
A voice from the studio calling out Jake’s name, made Neve jump.
‘Wait here,’ said Jake. He opened the door only enough for him to squeeze through. ‘All right, Stan. What’s up?’ He closed the door behind, leaving Neve alone in the room.
She turned to the screen and gave an involuntary shiver at the face looking back at her. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she whispered.
As she looked at the details again, she noticed a phone number. Realising she had only a few seconds before Jake came back, Neve took out her phone and took a quick photograph of the screen.
Just as she put her phone back in her bag, the door opened, and Jake reappeared.
‘Just Stan, wanted to borrow some turps,’ he said, shuffling round to the computer screen and logging out of the system. ‘And don’t worry about Lee. I expect he was just making sure Poppy was all right. That’s his job.’
‘Yeah, sure. Thanks again,’ said Neve, with what she hoped was a convincing smile. ‘I’d better go.’
‘Neve,’ said Jake, turning to face her.
‘Yes?’
‘Remember, I’m here if you ever need me. Whatever the occasion. You do know that, don’t you?’
‘I do. And thank you.’ His kindness was touching, and Neve appreciated his concern.
‘I probably shouldn’t say this, and I’ll probably kick myself afterwards, but what the hell…’ began Jake.
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ said Neve, gently.
‘I do, because likewise, if I don’t, I’ll kick myself for that too.’
‘Looks like you’re in for a good kicking,’ said Neve, trying to make light of the situation, even though the laugh she tagged on was full of nerves.
‘You deserve to be happy, Neve,’ he said, taking her hand in his and cupping it with the other.
Neve looked down at their hands and placed her free hand on top of his, her thumb brushed the acrylic paint smeared across his knuckles. ‘I am happy,’ she said. ‘On the whole, I am.’
‘You deserve to be happier,’ said Jake. ‘I can—’
Neve made a shushing sound, cutting through the sentence, moving her hand on his cheek. ‘I know,’ she said, looking him directly in the eye. She resisted the urge to kiss him, instead disengaged herself from him and stepped away. She was dangerously close to giving in to her desire. Pausing in the doorway, she turned to him. ‘You’re a good man, Jake Rees.’
He gave a rueful look, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing,’ he said and then added sincerely, ‘I meant what I said.’
‘I know.’
‘Go on then, or you’ll be late. Reassure that husband of yours that’s there’s nothing to worry about.’
Neve gave Jake a small smile. ‘Nothing to worry about at all.’
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Sue Fortin
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 17.04.2024
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О книге: ‘A gripping portrayal of a family caught on the wrong side of the law’ JANE CORRYThe USA Today and #1 eBook bestseller of The Girl Who Lied and Sister SisterHAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?When fourteen-year-old Poppy vanishes on a family boating trip, suspicion soon turns close to home – to the two people who should do everything to keep her safe, her parents, Kit and Neve.Neve has a secret. Kit is lying.Everyone is watching.Who do you believe?