Schoolgirl Missing Read online

‘Sure. I’ll get straight to the point,’ said Kit. ‘As I said in my message, Neve’s not too good at the moment, mentally, I mean. She’s become very anxious and it all relates back to when she was younger. She’s been having therapy, but it doesn’t seem to be helping at all. She’s always been sketchy about what happened and I’m just trying to get some clarity so I can help her in some way.’

  ‘Neve and therapy were never a good combination,’ replied Scott.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘She went a couple of times when we were married, after losing the baby. And, I suppose, she never really dealt with what had happened to Megan. Anyway, I thought it was a good idea and actually believed that’s where she was going every week. One night, I thought I’d surprise her and meet her, take her for dinner and all that. What a mug I was. Saw her coming out of the pub with some guy. Turned out it was Ash of all people. She hadn’t been going to therapy for weeks after him randomly turning up out of the blue one day.’

  Kit could hear the indignation in Scott’s voice, even though this must have been getting on for ten years ago.

  ‘Was she having an affair with Ash?’ asked Kit. Christ, if she’d done it once before, then who was to say she wasn’t doing it again, this time with Jake?

  ‘God, no! It was more like an unhealthy friendship. Bad influence on her, he was.’

  ‘You mentioned before that you thought he was involved with what happened. How?’

  ‘I swear he was there that day, but Neve point-blank refused to say, even when she was questioned by the police. Covering for him through some misguided loyalty, you know, not grassing on your mates, omertà, that sort of thing.’

  Kit phrased his next question carefully. ‘What do you think happened that day?’

  ‘On the beach? With Megan? Well, I’d have thought it was pretty obvious …’ Scott paused and when he spoke there was an air of suspicion in his voice. ‘She has told you about Ash, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Yeah, well, not much if I’m honest. I just assumed he was an old friend.’

  ‘He’s a user, in every sense of the word.’

  ‘A user?’

  Scott gave a small laugh. ‘You really don’t know anything about him, do you?’

  ‘I know he’s trouble, like you say. You’ve just confirmed that to me. What about Megan?’ Kit replied, trying to sound casual.

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘What sort of friend was she? Neve’s never really said much about her either.’

  ‘You’re asking me what sort of friend Megan was?’ said Scott. He paused and let out a sigh before speaking again. ‘I tell you what, I’m going to end this conversation now. I suggest you talk to your wife. Ask her what happened, not just on the beach that day with Megan, but with everything after that, with Jasmine, with Ash.’

  ‘Look, I’ll level with you,’ said Kit. He might as well; he had nothing to lose. ‘I don’t know what happened on the beach or after that. Neve won’t talk about it and I’m trying to find out so I can help her.’

  There was a long silence and Kit wasn’t sure if Scott was still there. Finally, he answered. ‘It’s not for me to tell,’ he said. ‘All I’ll say is, Neve’s been through a lot and hasn’t always made the right choices. I’m not surprised to hear she’s a bit unstable. I hope she does open up and talk to you and I hope you can help her, because I tried, I really did, but it wasn’t anywhere near enough.’

  The line went dead.

  Kit looked at the phone accusingly. That didn’t end the way he had hoped. And who was Jasmine? He took the photographs out from his case and flicked through them again, inspecting the reverse of each one, but other than the ones of Megan’s twentieth birthday on the beach, none of them had anything written on the back. He looked again at the photograph of the new-born baby and the toddler. Was this Jasmine?

  He mulled over his conversation with Scott. The man clearly regretted not being able to help Neve, and Kit had to admit that he could empathise with that feeling. Kit wanted to help Neve but didn’t know how because she wouldn’t confide in him. Thinking about it in that way, rather than from the jealous husband point of view, it saddened him to think she was struggling and with more than one problem by the sound of it.

  Neve needed fixing. Kit was a fixer. That’s what he did. He fixed things. He didn’t like anything being out of his control and that included Neve’s issues. If he was honest, they were probably his issues too. He hated the fact that he was discovering an ever-increasing number of people knew more about his wife than he did. He couldn’t deny the roll of jealousy in his gut, coupled with a sense of unease. It seemed to be more than just a miscarriage that was at the root of her problems. He didn’t just want to know, or even need to know – he had a right to know and he was as sure as hell going to find out.

  The marina never failed to give Kit a sense of happiness. Kit liked the simplicity of Ambleton’s marina; with its one hundred berths, it was small and intimate and gave Kit a sense of nostalgia for his childhood.

  He had loved the water since he was a kid and would spend his weekends taking his little sailing dinghy out whenever the weather allowed. There was something majestic about the open water, the way the waves rolled lazily about one moment and on the turn of the tide or the whim of the wind, they could morph into angry angular waves, chopping their way inshore. Today, however, was a beautiful day, the water was calm, the sky was blue, the sun warm and a gentle on-shore breeze made it a perfect day for taking his launch out. Blue Horizon was his live-aboard 1930s boat and had been inherited from his father. One of the original Little Ships which had sailed across the Channel to Dunkirk during the war. Kit’s father had begun restoring it and after his death, Kit had taken up the challenge. It had taken many, many hours but Kit was immensely proud of the finished result. The only disappointment was that his father hadn’t lived to see Blue Horizon restored to its majestic former glory.

  Kit glanced across to Neve as they pulled up at the marina. The sun was catching the golden highlights in her hair. She took her sunglasses from her bag and popped them on before turning her head to him and smiling.

  The smile warmed his heart like the sun warming his skin. She had such a delicate, almost frail, look at times. Her wispy blonde hair, today tied in a ponytail, accentuated her pale skin. Sometimes he looked at her and thought a strong gust of wind would blow her over, but he knew that despite the outer vulnerability, inside she was strong. She was resilient. She was a survivor. She was also a liar, a voice piped up in the back of his mind. She’d always let him believe her miscarriage was at the heart of her problems – she’d deceived him and he’d been a fool not to question her. There was something else lurking in the shadows and it was threatening their marriage, driving a wedge between them.

  ‘Shall we, then?’ said Neve, pausing, her hand on the door handle, waiting for his cue.

  ‘Yes. Hurry up,’ said Poppy from behind his chair.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Kit. He turned in his seat and smiled back at Poppy. Her face alight with excitement melted his heart. His daughter had inherited his love of the water. It was the one place that Poppy seemed truly at home. It had the power to take away all her stresses and worries, even as a small child, her mood always peaked whenever they had gone out on the boat.

  ‘Let’s make this a good day,’ he said.

  ‘Sure,’ Neve said as she gave him one of her enigmatic smiles. One that, even after all this time, he couldn’t quite read.

  Then, before he could question it any further, Poppy was pushing the car door open.

  ‘Come on, Dad! Let’s go,’ she said. ‘I want to see the water.’

  In a few minutes they had taken their dry bags from the car and were clomping down the wooden jetty that sloped from the shoreline to the harboured boats, with Willow trotting alongside Poppy on the lead. Being on a tidal river, and a little inland, it wasn’t too popular with the yachting fraternity and their river and seagoing cruisers. It was rather more indus
trial, with fishing boats that went in and out every day, and hardened boating enthusiasts.

  ‘Go steady!’ called Kit as Poppy skipped along the floating pontoon, towards their boat.

  ‘She makes me nervous,’ said Kit. ‘She’s not looking where she’s going half the time. Head in the clouds.’

  ‘She’s fine,’ said Neve. ‘Just excited.’

  ‘Thanks for coming today,’ said Kit, cutting his stride so Neve could walk alongside him. ‘I’m glad you came. I am really sorry about last night. I was a bit of a wanker.’ Kit stopped mid-sentence, realising his faux pas. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that literally.’

  Neve laughed. ‘Let’s forget about last night once and for all,’ she said graciously and slipped her arm through his.

  ‘Just one more thing … I’m also sorry about what happened at the studio. I didn’t mean to upset you like that.’ Kit felt this apology was slightly more forced.

  ‘Like I said, let’s forget about it,’ said Neve. ‘I don’t want to ruin the day by talking about it all. Let’s just enjoy the moment.’

  ‘Hurry up, Dad! Hurry up, Neve!’ called Poppy, now hopping from one foot to the other, making the pontoon bounce up and down on the water.

  ‘Someone’s eager,’ said Neve.

  The rigging tingled against the masts of the boats in the gentle breeze. Perfect weather for being out on the water. ‘Remember when I first brought you here?’ said Kit, as they came alongside Blue Horizon.

  ‘How could I forget?’

  ‘We moored up a little way down river,’ said Kit. ‘And I cooked us a meal.’

  ‘I seem to remember it was beans on toast.’

  ‘It was still a meal.’ He gave a mock indignant look and was rewarded by a small laugh from Neve.

  Kit had been pleased, if not a little surprised, when Neve had agreed to come out on the boat. It wasn’t her most favourite pastime. She didn’t have the love of water that he and Poppy shared so today, he felt, was a significant gesture on her part. He planned to take the boat along the river so she would feel more comfortable about the whole trip. The river she said she could deal with, but the open sea frightened her.

  And how appropriate that the openness should frighten her. It wasn’t just the physical open space, but being open with her heart too.

  He had always known from the start that she’d had a troubled background. There was something about herself that she hadn’t quite given him. She’d given him her heart but not entirely. Many a time he’d tried to dig deeper into what was troubling her. Once he thought she might actually tell him, but she had stopped short at the last minute, made a lame joke about there not being enough hours to explain and then had flatly refused to talk about it anymore.

  Kit had always hoped she would eventually open up and tell him. He had to admit, it hurt that she didn’t feel she could talk to him about everything. He knew for a fact that there wasn’t anything about his life he hadn’t told her. She knew it all; the good and the bad. But it had never been a fair exchange. Neve knew his soul, but he didn’t know hers and the more he dwelled on this, the more it pissed him off.

  ‘All aboard,’ he declared in his best sea dog voice, extending a hand to help Poppy breach the gap between the pontoon and the edge of the boat. Fortunately, the tide was at a good place and the pontoon was just the right level for boarding, neither too high nor too low.

  ‘Permission to come aboard?’ said Neve, good humouredly.

  Kit smiled. She hadn’t said that for a long time. He held out his hand to help her step onto the gunwale of the boat and hook her leg over the side rail. ‘Permission granted.’

  Neve gave a mock salute. ‘Aye, aye, Captain.’

  ‘Right, life jackets on,’ said Kit, opening up the cubby hole and pulling out the vests. Neve attended to hers and Poppy’s, while Kit did his own and performed some of the checks. ‘OK, let’s go.’

  ‘Yay!’ cried Poppy, as Kit slipped the boat from its moorings. ‘Anchor’s away, Captain!’

  The 1930s launch glided away from the pontoon and Kit turned the wheel with expert ease, navigating the craft out on to the open river. Willow settled herself on the deck next to Kit’s feet. He glanced back at his passengers. Poppy was sitting on the foam cushioned seat, peering over the side at the wake left by the boat. Neve was sitting opposite, smiling fondly at his daughter. Kit couldn’t help being thankful that Neve had taken Poppy on, as if she were their daughter.

  And then the pang of something akin to guilt struck him. He looked away, as if not looking at Neve would make the feeling go away, He didn’t often feel guilty but today he did. Maybe it was part of the remorse from last night. He knew how much Neve wanted a child of her own and yet he knew with even more certainty that he could never give her that child.

  How could he put himself through that torturous hell he’d gone through with his first wife, Ella? He couldn’t bear the thought of it. No, his fear was greater than Neve’s need. He was certain of that. Selfishly so, but he had always hoped that Poppy would be enough to plug that gap in Neve’s life. Maybe he’d got it wrong. Maybe Neve needed to need Poppy more. If that was the case, then perhaps the need for a child of her own would dissipate and eventually vanish altogether. He mulled over this thought as he steered the boat along the river.

  ‘Oh, look over there,’ said Neve, above the engine noise. She pointed to the bank of bulrushes on the other side. ‘A heron. Can you see that, Poppy?’

  Kit watched as Neve went over to sit next to Poppy and patiently got her to focus on the location of the bird.

  On a beautiful day like today with Poppy so happy and Neve seemingly content, Kit couldn’t think of anything nicer. He wanted it to stay this way for ever. Just the three of them. They made a good team and he was frightened of upsetting the equilibrium they had. Or rather, they’d once had. He sensed a turning of the tide with Neve and it scared him, although he’d never admit that to anyone. It was all he could do to admit it to himself. He didn’t want Neve to turn with the tide. He had to do something to ensure she swam against it and made her way back to him.

  Chapter 14

  Neve woke to the early morning dawn chorus of the birds in the trees. She laid there enjoying the peace and tranquillity. There was no traffic in the background, no one mowing their grass or the general sounds of Long Acre Lane coming to life on a Sunday morning.

  Yesterday they had moored up a few miles down the river, just outside the village of Little Bury. The three of them had sat out on the deck, Neve and Kit drinking wine and Poppy a fizzy drink. Wrapped under blankets for warmth, they had watched the night sky appear, star gazed and made wishes. Even Poppy had seemed to enjoy the time they spent together, purely being. No pressures of life or computer screens or mobile phones.

  Later on, Neve had cooked them a meal. Nothing too fancy, after all there was only a two-ring burner and a small microwave come cooker. There wasn’t much room for anything else in the galley.

  Kit stirred beside her in their cabin – a small room at the bow of the boat where the seats turned into a bed, not dissimilar to a caravan. A compact space where more often than not, everything had a dual purpose.

  ‘Morning,’ said Kit, with a groan. ‘Jesus, my head is killing me.’ He went to sit up and flopped back down on the bed.

  ‘It’s what’s known as a hangover,’ said Neve. ‘Must admit, I don’t feel too great either. How much wine did we drink, for God’s sake?’

  ‘No idea,’ said Kit, holding his hand over his eyes. ‘I can’t remember much after the first bottle.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Neve. ‘I’m not sure if I’m even sober now.’

  ‘I need the loo, but I don’t know if I can even get out of bed,’ groaned Kit. He moved onto his side. ‘I’ll just lay here a bit longer.’

  ‘Don’t be sick. There’s no way I can be dealing with that this morning,’ said Neve, pulling the cover up to her chin.

  ‘Have you seen Poppy this morning?’ asked Kit. The wor
ds sounded heavy and a little slurred.

  ‘No. Haven’t got up yet,’ admitted Neve. ‘Head’s a bit too delicate.’ She reached over the side of the bed and padded her hand around until she found the bottle of water she’d brought to bed with her last night. She opened the lid and took several long gulps. ‘Want some?’ she dangled the bottle over Kit’s shoulder.

  ‘Thanks.’ Kit took several large mouthfuls. ‘I could murder a cup of coffee. I might just have to get up. Besides I really do need the loo.’ He clambered over Neve, stopping to give her a kiss as he straddled her body, still fully clothed from where he’d passed out on the bed the night before. He ran his fingertip down Neve’s breastbone. ‘Such a waste, as well,’ he muttered.

  Neve pulled a sad face. ‘You’ll have to make it up to me later.’

  ‘A lot later,’ said Kit, groaning with every movement he made. ‘I feel like I’ve been run over!’

  ‘Stop being a wimp,’ said Neve, giving Kit a playful shove. ‘Go on, put the kettle on while you’re up. And let Willow out too!’

  She listened as Kit staggered out of the cabin, trying to be quiet but with little or no success. The door to the toilet rattled as he struggled with the handle and then clattered as he shut it behind him.

  Sharing a small space on a boat, meant there was little privacy, so Neve heard Kit relieve himself.

  ‘Noisy pisser!’ she called out. Another of their shared jokes, another they hadn’t visited for so long.

  The flush of the toilet and more clattering of the door signalled Kit had finished. ‘Come on, Willow, want to go out?’

  Kit crashed around some more as he let Willow up onto the deck, waiting for the dog to jump onto the riverbank. A few minutes later, hound and master were back below deck.

  ‘Morning, Poppy,’ she heard him say. ‘Hmmm? Poppy?’

  Neve laid very still and listened to Kit walking across the saloon of the boat to the aft cabin, where Poppy slept. She heard Kit knock on the door. ‘Morning, sleepy head. Fancy a hot chocolate?’

  She listened as Kit filled the kettle with water and flicked it on to boil, before taking out the cups from the cupboard. ‘Looks like we managed to polish off two bottles of wine,’ he called back to Neve.