Behind Closed Doors (19 page)

How come he’d just stopped loving her? Why hadn’t she realised it was happening?

I miss you
, he’d said.
I miss us
.

Determined not to think about him any more, she connected to the incident room again. ‘Jemma,’ she said when she got through. ‘Anything new from Krakow?’

‘All I can tell you at the moment,’ Jemma replied, ‘is that the local police have run a blank on the hospital in Krakow. Several Sikoras listed – it’s a big place apparently – but every one of them is male, apart from one who’s only twenty, so hardly our Sikora’s mother.’

‘I see,’ Andee murmured. ‘Have you tried his number again?’

‘Yes, frequently and no reply.’

‘Any movement on his bank account?’

‘None.’

‘OK, get on to the girlfriend and find out if she’s heard any more. What about Perkins? Any sightings?’

‘Plenty, but still nothing positive, and nothing to say he’s gone through any of the channel ports, or taken a flight to Poland. We’ve had a couple of callers claiming to have seen Sophie, one in Hull, the other in Hereford, but it turns out both are known to their local police as regular responders to helplines.’

In other words, time-wasters.

‘In light of what’s happening in the online community,’ Jemma ran on, ‘the press office wants to know if they can put out a statement saying Sikora has now been traced and is helping with enquiries, but I’ve asked them to hold fire on that.’

‘Absolutely. We’d look pretty damned stupid if it turns out he’s given us the slip again. Is Gould around? Do we know if he’s contacted Interpol?’

‘Actually I heard just now that he’s referred it upstairs, but I don’t think we’ll hear back on it until tomorrow morning at the earliest.’

‘By which time Sikora could be anywhere.’ Pulling up outside Briar Lodge, she remained in the car as Jemma spoke to someone at her end.

‘Are you still there?’ Jemma asked, sounding excited as she came back on the line.

‘I am. What was all that about?’

‘Apparently someone’s just rung to say they think they saw Sophie going into Kesterly station last Monday or Tuesday with a bloke who fits Perkins’s description.’

‘Do we have the station footage from last week?’

‘No, but I’ll send someone to get it now.’

‘OK, talk Yaz into staying on to view it. I’ll come back if it turns out the sighting’s real.’

An hour and a half later Andee was in Graeme’s stylish Georgian home overlooking the botanical gardens, not quite sure why she was feeling odd about being alone with him, when she’d been so looking forward to it. It had to be some sort of fallout from Martin’s call still hanging around to unsettle her; contact with him had a way of doing that, which was extremely annoying when she shouldn’t be thinking about him at all.

And she wouldn’t be, she told herself firmly, had she not just told Graeme about Dougie’s passing.

They were sitting on a plush velvet sofa at one end of the impressive kitchen, and as Graeme’s warm grey eyes searched hers inquisitively, but not intrusively, she was reminded of why she found him so attractive. He was a quietly confident and elegant-looking man, with a voice and manners to match, and an unhurried manner that was always calming to be around.

She knew, because he’d told her, that he had two sons, aged twenty and eighteen, and from the photos scattered around the place she could see that they resembled him. Both were at uni, one in London, the other in Edinburgh, and apparently they rang their father regularly. Though Graeme tried hard not to talk about them too often, she could tell when he did how proud he was of them. It was another reason she’d fallen for him. He was clearly a great father, as well as a good, kind, humorous man with a way of making people – her, anyway – feel very glad to be with him.

‘I’m sorry my news wasn’t . . . Well, a bit happier,’ she grimaced.

‘I’m sorry too,’ he said, ‘I mean, for your loss and for how difficult I think you’re finding this.’

Feeling herself flush, she said, ‘I’ll miss him. He was a huge part of our lives.’

‘I’m sure. He meant a lot to a great many people.’

Her eyebrows rose. ‘Did you know him?’

‘A little. Not well. He was a good mayor, that’s for sure.’

Andee smiled. ‘He enjoyed his time in office. We were living in London then so we didn’t get to see so much of him, but we always heard about his accomplishments – and his failures. He could be very loud about them.’

Graeme’s eyes twinkled. ‘How are your children taking it?’

‘They’re upset, obviously, but I think having their dad around is helping. It’s where they are this evening, with him and their grandmothers. I’m not sure I’d have found it easy to get away otherwise.’

‘It’s good that your families have stayed close,’ he commented. ‘It’s always been a source of regret for me that my ex-wife refuses to be friends.’

‘Why do you think that is?’

‘It’s a good question, when she’s the one who left me. Though I think it probably has something to do with me not wanting to take her back when her new relationship fell apart. However, that’s water under the bridge. We speak when we have to about the boys, otherwise we’re in very separate worlds. Now, are you ready to eat?’

As though answering for her her tummy rumbled, and they both laughed.

‘Come on,’ he said, pulling her to her feet, ‘I’ve set up a table on the terrace, and I’ve even brought out the candles. If you’d care to light them, I’ll rescue the frittata from the fridge – do you mind having it cold?’

‘Not at all. Can I make a salad?’

‘All done. Just tell me if I can pour you a glass of wine.’

She pulled a face. ‘A small one, and you don’t know how much it’s costing me to say that, because I’d love nothing better right now than to kick off my shoes, let down my hair and finish the entire bottle with you. But if something breaks tonight . . .’

‘I understand, but I’ll hold you to it for another night.’

‘Please do.’

‘Maybe after the funeral,’ he suggested. ‘I have a feeling your family is going to need all the spare time you can manage until then.’

Putting her arms around him, she gazed up into his eyes. ‘You’re probably right,’ she whispered, ‘but I want you to know that I’d much rather be spending it with you.’

With a smile he pulled her in closer. ‘I haven’t told you my news yet,’ he reminded her.

Since his mouth was very close to hers, she didn’t feel in too much of a hurry to hear it.

‘I,’ he murmured, ‘have found a house in Umbria that I’d like you to take a look at.’

Her eyes widened as she drew back to look at him.

‘I’ve brought photographs to show you, and I shot some video while I was there, but you’ll get a much better idea if you see it in person. When you’re ready, of course.’

Her heart was suddenly beating faster. A holiday in Italy. With him. How different her life could be if things were to work out for them.

Maybe this was the road she’d been meant to travel.

‘I’ll get that frittata,’ he grinned, and pressing a lighter into her hand he turned her towards the terrace.

Much later that night Andee came awake with a start. Sound was thrumming through her ears like a speeding train; her heart was racing, her mind was still clinging to the clouded chaos of dreams. Penny’s face undulating in water, her dark hair floating like seaweed. Sophie in a pit of darkness pleading with someone to come. Martin walking away with Sophie. Sophie turning around and staring at her. Her father urging her to find Penny. Sophie’s father yelling at her for failing his daughter. Penny laughing as she skipped down over rocks on to a beach. Sophie crying for her mummy. Alayna running from someone. Martin trying to catch Alayna. Luke turning on his father. Sophie still crying for her mother.

What had happened to the lovely gentle dreams she should have been having about Graeme and Italy?

Taking soft, deep breaths she flipped back the sheet and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the jumbled madness to fade. Her pulses continued to race, but the shaking in her limbs was subsiding and the irrational fear flooding her head was slowly draining.

It was only a dream. Nothing she’d seen or heard was real.

Accepting it would be a while before she could sleep again, she put on a robe and let herself quietly out of the bedroom on to the landing.

Seeing both children’s doors slightly open, she went to check on Luke and found him sprawled in all his youthful glory on his iron-framed bed, dead to the world. As she moved on to Alayna’s room she found herself wondering where Sophie was now, this minute, at this hour of the night. It would be wonderful to think she was safely sleeping somewhere. Or awake and planning her return.

The CCTV from Kesterly station had shown images of two people who, in close-up, were clearly neither Perkins nor Sophie.

Pushing Alayna’s door further open, she peered inside and felt a bolt of alarm shoot through her heart. The bed was empty. Her daughter wasn’t there.

‘Alayna?’ she whispered into the shadows.

Turning around she checked the bathroom, but there was no light on.

Realising she was in danger of overreacting, she ran down the stairs, trying to outdistance the voices and images from her dreams, and found her daughter curled into an armchair at one end of the kitchen, munching on a slice of toast while watching a nearly silent TV.

Heaving a secret sigh of relief, Andee said, ‘There you are. What are you doing up at this hour?’

Alayna shrugged. ‘Couldn’t sleep. I just boiled the kettle if you’d like some tea.’

Deciding it was too hot for tea, Andee filled a glass with water and sat down at the table. After a moment Alayna licked the crumbs from her fingers, turned off the TV and came to join her.

‘So what were you and Luke chatting about earlier?’ Andee wondered, suspecting it was their grandfather.

Alayna frowned in bafflement.

‘Your bedroom doors were open,’ Andee explained. ‘I thought you’d been in together for a while.’

Alayna rolled her eyes. ‘That’s what it’s like having a detective for a mother. We can’t ever get anything past you.’

Andee smiled, wishing it were true.

‘If you must know,’ Alayna said, helping herself to a sip of her mother’s water, ‘we were talking about you and Dad.’

Feeling her heart tighten, Andee reached up to smooth the silky blonde waves from Alayna’s eyes. She knew she was biased, show her a mother who wasn’t, but Alayna was growing into quite a beauty and though Andee felt proud of her, she worried that she would be judged on how she looked rather than how very worthy and intelligent a young woman she was.

‘Aren’t you going to ask what about you and Dad?’ Alayna prompted.

Andee shook her head. ‘I can guess it had something to do with Brigitte and how you wish she hadn’t come, because it’s not the right time for Grandma Carol, and because you’re afraid it might be upsetting me.’

Alayna threw out her hands. ‘See, you know everything.’

Andee smiled. ‘Knowing you as well as I do, it wasn’t hard to work out, but I don’t want you to worry about me. It was always going to happen, Dad finding someone else . . .’ How would Alayna take it if she discovered her mother had met someone too?

‘Do you know how long they’ve been together?’ Alayna asked.

‘No. Do you?’

Alayna shook her head. ‘I haven’t asked, because I don’t want him to talk about her. We’d much rather he came to his senses and realised he’s made a terrible mistake and it’s you he wants to be with.’

Feeling a familiar churning inside – a throwback, Andee reminded herself, to a time when she’d longed for that to be true – she said, ‘I’ve told you before, you have to put that out of your minds. Dad would never have left if he hadn’t been serious about wanting to break up with me . . .’

‘But why should he get to make all the decisions? And if he doesn’t wise up soon you’ll meet someone else. Then it’ll definitely be too late.’

Knowing the time wasn’t right to mention Graeme, Andee said, ‘I think it must be quite serious with Brigitte, or she wouldn’t be here.’

‘Grandma Carol doesn’t want her at the funeral.’

‘But if Dad wants her there . . .’

‘Luke’s going to tell him it can’t happen.’

Andee sighed. ‘I’ll talk to Luke. Falling out with Dad now is the last thing either of them needs when they’re both very raw over Grandpa’s death.’

Seeming to see the sense of that, Alayna took her mother’s hand as she said, ‘If you’d just talk to Dad . . .’

‘Sweetheart . . .’

‘No, I know what you’re going to say, but I truly think . . .’

‘Stop,’ Andee broke in gently. ‘This has to be between me and Dad, and things have moved on since. Sssh. Everyone’s upset about Grandpa right now, and it’s only natural to think back to when things were different. Maybe once the funeral’s over and we’ve all settled down a bit we can have this chat again.’

Alayna’s head dropped to one side as she gazed at her mother. ‘I just hate to think of you being unhappy.’

‘Darling, I’m not unhappy. Sad about Grandpa, of course, and worried about Sophie Monroe . . .’

‘That’s what I mean. You’ve got so much going on that you’re trying to block out how you feel about Dad, and this business with Sophie has to be bringing it all back about your sister.’

‘I won’t deny it’s making me think of her, but I promise you, I’m handling it.’

Alayna was quiet for a moment, as, loving her more than ever, Andee stroked her hair. ‘Do you really think she’s gone off with this paedo guy they’re talking about on the news?’ she asked.

‘It’s certainly possible.’

Alayna’s eyes were full of concern. ‘What will he do to her? You know, some people are saying that she’s been sold into prostitution by an Eastern European gang. Do you reckon that’s true?’

Andee shook her head slowly. ‘There’s no evidence of it.’

‘I feel really sorry for her, wherever she is. And I hope all those girls who keep being mean to her at school are feeling really terrible now.’

Andee’s eyebrows rose. ‘Girls are mean to her at school?’

‘Yeah, they’re always calling her names and picking on her. She fights back, and you should hear some of the names she calls them, but they’re always the ones who start it, and they almost always end up making her cry.’