Schoolgirl Missing Page 7

  ‘I know,’ said Neve, trying hard to push away the thought of her and Jake down by the river.

  ‘You’ve gone red,’ said Poppy.

  ‘Have I?’ said Neve, aware that her cheeks were burning from a mix of guilt and pleasure. ‘It’s rather hot in here.’ She slipped off her jacket to emphasise her explanation.

  ‘You’ve got red paint on your face,’ continued Poppy, pointing to Neve’s right cheek.

  Neve’s hand flew to her face and she pawed her skin with her fingertips. It must have been from where Jake touched her earlier. Good job Kit hadn’t seen it first. ‘I must have got paint on my fingers when I moved my art stuff earlier.’ Neve said, trying to make her lie sound casual. ‘Has it gone?’

  ‘Still a bit there,’ said Poppy, watching as Neve rubbed her face again. She gave Neve a long stare. ‘It’s gone now.’

  ‘Good, now let’s get going,’ said Neve.

  ‘Callum didn’t sit with me today,’ said Poppy, as they drove home. ‘He sat with Lydia.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame but never mind,’ said Neve.

  ‘Why would I not mind about it? I do mind. He promised he would sit next to me. I don’t like him anymore.’

  ‘Maybe he will sit with you tomorrow.’

  ‘I don’t want him to.’

  ‘OK, in that case, you don’t have to,’ said Neve, realising she wasn’t going to reason with Poppy at all. Some battles weren’t worth the fight.

  ‘That’s someone else who has broken a promise,’ continued Poppy.

  ‘Sometimes people make promises they can’t always keep.’

  ‘I still don’t like him.’

  They sat in silence for the rest of the journey as Neve navigated their way out of the town and onto the country lane which lead back to Ambleton. They crossed the stone bridge into the village.

  Automatically, Neve looked over towards Copperthorne Lane and her thoughts turned to Jake and what he’d said. Had he really been making her a serious offer? She couldn’t quite work it out. There was no doubt about the spark between them. She had to admit, she found him nothing short of sexy and when he had kissed her, that was something else. She couldn’t remember responding like that to Kit in a long time. And then Jake had said how much he wanted children and how he could make her happy. She’d surprised herself confiding in him, but it had seemed so natural to do so.

  Thinking about it now with her detached logical head on, could she really give up everything she had? Could she give up Kit? Could she give up Poppy? All for the promise of what … a baby? Is that what Jake had meant? Surely, she was reading too much into it all. Jake’s proposal was quite full-on, it wasn’t like they were even involved in a physical relationship yet. She paused. That wasn’t true actually. The kiss had upgraded it from an emotional relationship to a physical one and sleeping together was only a matter of time. If she allowed it to happen, that was. Just because they hadn’t slept together didn’t mean it wasn’t physical. Was his offer worth trading in what she had for what she wanted? Did she want Jake, or did she want what he could give her?

  Within a couple of minutes, Neve was pulling up outside their house, the wheels of her car crunching on the gravel drive.

  ‘Would you like a drink and a biscuit?’ asked Neve, plonking her handbag down on the kitchen chair once inside the house.

  ‘Everyone breaks promises,’ said Poppy.

  Neve was used to Poppy’s abruptness when it came to conversations. It wasn’t unusual for minutes, hours or even days to elapse before Poppy responded to a comment. Mostly, Neve and Kit were able to keep up with the disjointed way Poppy held conversations.

  Neve took the milk from the fridge. ‘I expect we all do but as I said, sometimes it’s not on purpose.’

  ‘You broke a promise to Dad.’

  ‘I did?’ Neve replaced the lid on the milk bottle and pushed the glass towards her daughter.

  ‘When you got married you said you promised to love him for ever.’

  A little flutter rose in Neve’s chest. ‘That’s right.’ She returned the milk bottle to the fridge. ‘And I will.’

  The fourteen-year-old dipped her finger into the glass and then let the drips of milk fall onto the counter.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ said Neve, tearing off a sheet of kitchen roll and wiping the work top. ‘It’s dirty.’

  ‘Your shoes are dirty,’ said Poppy.

  Back to the shoes. ‘I know. I’ll clean them in a minute.’

  ‘You got them dirty when you were down by the river today,’ said Poppy, now stirring her finger around in the milk.

  Neve stopped mid-wipe. Her heart fluttered harder this time. ‘I went for a walk. It’s nice along there,’ she said, trying to regain her composure. She dropped the kitchen roll into the bin.

  ‘Did Jake get his shoes dirty?’

  Neve, now with her back to Poppy, closed her eyes for a moment. How the hell had Poppy seen her at the river with Jake? She stalled for time. ‘I don’t know if Jake got dirty shoes today.’

  ‘Why not? You were with him.’

  Neve turned to look at Poppy and gave another smile as she went about making herself a cup of tea. Trying to sound casual, she spoke. ‘When did you see me at the river?’

  ‘Today.’

  Neve swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t see you.’

  ‘We had swimming lessons.’

  Neve filled in the missing information. It was just her luck that the St Joseph’s school bus must have gone across the bridge today at the exact same time she was with Jake by the river. The coach always took a short-cut through the village to get to the leisure centre in a different town where there was more specialised equipment and staff for St Joseph’s children. That explained it.

  ‘Ah, yes. I forgot you had swimming today.’ Neve looked up to the ceiling. Of all the days! ‘I went to pick up some paints from Jake,’ she said, grateful that an excuse had sprung to mind from nowhere. A plausible one too. ‘For my next painting. I wanted to check it was the right colour before I bought it. We had a little stroll by the river to look at the flowers.’

  ‘And to kiss.’

  Neve’s heart almost leapt into her throat. Poppy saw them kissing. Shit. Double shit.

  ‘Neve and Jake sitting in a tree. K I S S I N G,’ sang Poppy as she swirled her finger around faster in the milk.

  ‘Stop that!’ snapped Neve.

  Poppy slowly removed her finger from the milk before licking it. Then she continued with the chanting. ‘Neve and Jake walking by the river. K I S S I N G.’

  ‘Poppy! That’s enough.’ Neve slapped her hand on the work top. Sometimes Poppy would be so engrossed in what she was doing, it was hard to get her attention. A sudden noise often brought her back to reality. Neve wasn’t having any such luck today. ‘Poppy!’ She raised her voice above the repetitive verse. ‘STOP!’ Again, she slammed the counter.

  Neve could feel the panic rising in her. Poppy had to stop. Kit would be back anytime now. Before she could consider the consequences of what she was doing, Neve stormed around the island counter and grabbed Poppy by the shoulders, practically pulling her off the bar stool and to her feet. Neve’s face was inches from Poppy’s. The teenager’s warm breath pummelled her skin as she carried on chanting, her voice becoming louder and louder, the words spilling out faster and faster.

  Neve could hear her own voice competing with Poppy’s, telling her to stop, to be quiet, but Poppy was in no mood for compliance.

  Then Neve’s hand left Poppy’s shoulder and made contact with her face instead. The crack of the slap was like a branch being snapped. Neve gasped and took a step back.

  ‘You hit me,’ said Poppy incredulously, as she clasped both her hands to her cheek.

  ‘Oh, Poppy, I’m so sorry,’ said Neve, still not quite comprehending what she had done. ‘I … I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t … I didn’t hit you. It was a slap.’ Somehow in her mind a slap sounded better than a hit, but Neve also knew neither were accepta
ble. What the hell had she done?

  Two big globes of tears rolled down Poppy’s face, the tear on the right side reaching her chin while the other side, just reached her fingertips. ‘You hit me,’ repeated Poppy.

  ‘I’m sorry. I really am. I was trying to get you to listen to me. I didn’t mean to.’ Neve took a step towards Poppy and gently moved her hand from her face. Neve gave a sharp intake of breath. A red slap mark burned on Poppy’s cheek. Neve felt sick at the sight of it. ‘Come up to the bathroom with me,’ she said, taking Poppy by the hand. ‘We’ll put a cold flannel on it.’

  Reluctantly, Poppy allowed Neve to take her upstairs and sit her on the edge of the bath while Neve ran a clean flannel under the cold water. Poppy flinched as the compress was rested against her skin. ‘It’s cold,’ she complained.

  ‘It’s meant to be,’ said Neve, as she wished with all her heart she hadn’t lost control.

  ‘You only had to say please, and I would have stopped,’ said Poppy, her voice sullen. Uncharacteristically, she looked up at Neve from under her thick black eyelashes. Neve had only ever seen one photograph of Poppy’s mother, one that Kit had framed and was on Poppy’s dressing table, and for the first time Neve could see a likeness between mother and child. It was the angle of the photograph, taken from above, as Poppy’s mother looked up at the camera, in just the same way Poppy did now. It was definitely the dark thick lashes that did it. She certainly hadn’t inherited her father’s fair colouring. Neve wondered, if her and Kit had a child would the baby be fair, like them? A little pang of desire made itself known in her stomach.

  ‘I am sorry, I really am,’ she said, taking the flannel away. Fortunately, the pink mark was going down.

  ‘I’m going to tell Dad,’ said Poppy, as Neve replaced the flannel on her face.

  Neve swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t mean to,’ she said. How would she explain this to Kit? She couldn’t even remember having the conscious thought to slap Poppy. If it wasn’t for the hand mark, Neve wouldn’t have believed it possible.

  ‘I’m going to tell Dad you kissed Jake,’ said Poppy. ‘Neve and Jake sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G.’

  ‘Don’t start that again,’ said Neve, with a steel in her voice that surprised her. ‘Just stop now.’ And then she added in a softer voice. ‘Please?’

  ‘OK,’ Poppy said and then fell silent.

  Neve knelt in front of Poppy. ‘Look, I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell Dad anything. Not about Jake and not about what’s just happened.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he’ll get angry. And neither of us like it when he’s cross, do we?’ She hated herself for manipulating Poppy’s thoughts like this, but she had no choice. ‘And anyway, I was just saying thank you to Jake for helping me.’

  ‘Dad will be cross with you,’ said Poppy.

  ‘And he might be cross with you too,’ said Neve. ‘For singing a silly song and not listening to me.’

  ‘I did when you said please.’

  ‘I know. Let’s just forget about it. We were both in the wrong.’

  The sound of the door closing and Kit calling out, made Neve and Poppy look towards the bathroom door in unison.

  ‘Helloooo!’ came Kit’s voice from the foot of the stairs. ‘Anyone home?’

  ‘Up here!’ called back Neve. ‘Won’t be a minute.’

  As she went downstairs, Neve could feel the butterflies in her stomach, so she took time to regulate her breathing in a bid to appear unruffled. Maybe Kit wouldn’t notice the red mark on Poppy’s face. With any luck he’d be preoccupied with work or his lap top or phone, like he often was.

  ‘How’s Poppy?’ asked Kit as Neve came into the kitchen.

  ‘She’s OK. I spoke to her teacher and she said she had quite a good day.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘She’s up in her room. Leave her for now.’

  ‘I’ll call her down,’ said Kit, ignoring Neve. Clearly, any hope that he would be preoccupied was wasted. ‘Poppy! Poppy, come down. I want to speak to you.’

  Neve took another steadying breath. This was not going to plan at all. She heard Poppy’s feet on the staircase.

  ‘Hi Dad.’

  Neve picked up on the note of caution in Poppy’s greeting

  ‘Hiya, darling. Neve phoned me today and told me what happened at the bus stop. Are you …’ The abrupt stop to the sentence was all Neve needed to know he had spotted the mark on Poppy’s face. ‘What the hell …’ Kit muttered.

  ‘She’s OK,’ said Neve, stepping forward and putting an arm around Poppy’s shoulders. ‘Aren’t you, Poppy?’

  Poppy nodded obligingly, an uncertain look in her eyes.

  ‘Well, she doesn’t look all right to me. Come here, Poppy, let me see. Did that happen this morning?’

  ‘Neve did it,’ said Poppy.

  ‘It was an accident,’ said Neve quickly. ‘I was reaching for something from the cupboard and caught Poppy’s face with my elbow.’ The lie slipped out before she had time to think about it.

  ‘Wow. I’ll say you did,’ said Kit, inspecting his daughter’s face. ‘Poor you, Poppy, you’ve had a rough day by the sound of it. Now, don’t be worrying about what happened this morning, I’m going to speak to that little toerag’s mother. He won’t be bothering you again, I promise.’

  ‘People break promises,’ said Poppy. ‘Neve said they did. You do. Neve does.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Neve.

  ‘Yes, that’s enough,’ echoed Kit. ‘Don’t be worrying now.’

  ‘Neve’s got muddy shoes,’ said Poppy.

  Kit looked over at Neve. ‘I went for a walk by the river. I haven’t had time to clean them yet. Right, what do you want for tea?’ Neve made an attempt to distract Poppy.

  Just at that moment Kit’s mobile began to ring. ‘Sorry, need to answer this,’ said Kit.

  ‘Jake’s shoes must be muddy too,’ said Poppy.

  ‘Hello. Kit Masters.’ Kit answered his phone and gave his daughter an odd look. ‘Hi, Sean. Yes, it’s fine. No, no, don’t worry, I can speak now.’

  ‘Jake and Neve sitting—.’

  ‘Poppy! Shhh, your dad’s on the phone!’ Neve rushed over to close the door as Kit made his way out of the kitchen. He turned and although listening to Sean speaking, he gave Neve a long hard stare.

  Chapter 8

  Neve woke up early the next morning, her guilt not allowing her the luxury of sleep. She’d put pressure on Poppy to lie to her father, if necessary. But worse, she had taken advantage of Poppy’s naivety and of her own ability to manipulate Poppy’s thoughts to protect herself. At the time, it seemed justifiable but deep down, she knew it wasn’t. The house was still, and Neve padded downstairs to make herself a cup of tea and sit in front of the TV watching reruns of property shows. The latest being a renovation project in Devon.

  It seemed even the TV company was conspiring to add to her guilt. Devon immediately took her thoughts back to Megan.

  She missed Megan so much.

  Neve thought of the glorious holidays she’d shared with her family as a child and the memories made her smile. Mum and Dad always rented a cottage in Devon and they would spend two weeks of the summer there. Neve and Megan loved the big sweeping beaches, the roaring north coast waves and the breeze that came with it. They’d made a pact that one day they would buy their own little cottage in Devon and would live there together with their own children.

  A dark cloud raced across Neve’s mind, blocking out the happy memories. She picked up the remote control and switched channels. She didn’t want to be reminded of what happened. It was too painful to revisit.

  ‘You’re up early,’ said Kit coming into the room.

  Neve looked up and was pleased for the distraction. ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she replied.

  Kit went over and bent to kiss the top of her head. He was already dressed for work and smelt of lemon zest shower gel. ‘Have you thought of going to the doctor?’

&nbs
p; ‘No. I don’t need to see a doctor. I’m not taking any sleeping pills or anything like that.’

  Kit rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘OK. It was only a suggestion. It’s no big deal taking something to help you sleep. Lots of people do.’

  ‘I said no.’ She stood up and brushed past him as she headed down the hall. There was such a lot Kit didn’t know about her and taking medication to help with stress and poor sleeping was one of them. The side-effects of walking around in a daze-like state, thinking through a permanent foggy mind and feeling constantly drowsy was awful, and she had no intention of ever going there again.

  ‘What’s on the agenda today?’ asked Kit, following her into the kitchen.

  ‘Not sure.’

  ‘You’re not going to your art therapy class, then?’

  Her heart missed a beat. ‘Yes, I meant apart from that, I’m not sure,’ she replied evenly, although inside she was wary of where the conversation was going. Last night after he had finished his phone call, he hadn’t referred to Poppy’s comment about Jake’s shoes. Neve had been on tenterhooks all evening, waiting for him to remember, but it seemed it hadn’t stuck in his mind at all. Thank goodness!

  ‘I’ve been thinking about your art. I’d really like to see some of your work,’ said Kit, taking his freshly made coffee from the machine. ‘That’s if you don’t mind? I thought maybe you’d like to share it with me, rather than just Jake.’

  ‘It’s not really art for sharing or displaying,’ said Neve, not wanting to meet his gaze. ‘It’s therapy. It’s …’ she hesitated, the word ‘private’ resting on her lips.

  ‘But Jake gets to see it,’ continued Kit, clearly not wanting to let the subject drop.

  ‘I’d be embarrassed,’ she said, at last. ‘I’m not good at art, I just find it an outlet for my emotions.’

  ‘That sounds like a textbook quote,’ said Kit. He put his coffee cup down and went over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him and tipping her chin up to him with his finger. ‘I just thought if you showed me your art, I might be able to understand better. You know … what happened. After all this time, you’ve never really told me about it.’