No Place to Hide (20 page)

Laughing, Matt said, “I’m guessing Melanie Sands would have something to say about that, but I know what you mean, he and Cheryl do seem well suited.” Reaching for the slender wand on his nightstand, he slipped an arm around her and changed the subject to something he considered far more important than the affairs of their neighbors. “Are you sure,” he said softly, “that you want to go through with this? I mean, if you don’t…”

Justine turned to him in amazement. “You surely can’t be suggesting a termination,” she protested. “Matt, this is
our
child.”

“I realize that, and I swear I want it as much as you do, but after the last two miscarriages…”

“They were a long time ago, and there’s nothing to say it’ll happen again. In fact, I have a good feeling about it this time. I really do.” It was true, she did, though she couldn’t remember now if she’d felt the same way about the others.

Pulling her into his arms, he held her close as he said, “Then that’s good enough for me, because I’d love to have another child, girl or boy, fat or thin, tall or short, clever or dumb. Just please don’t let it be as difficult as Ben.”

“Please don’t ever let him hear you say that.”

“Of course not,” he promised. “Actually, I wonder what he and Abby will say when we tell them?”

Turning onto her back with a sigh, Justine said, “I’m guessing Abby will consider it gross, or something along those lines, but she’ll be fine with it when it comes. Actually, she’ll probably be too busy auditioning for
The X Factor
to notice there’s a new member of the family taking up all the attention.”

“Oh, she’ll notice that all right,” Matt responded drily. “But as for this
X Factor
thing, I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again—I really don’t want her to do it. If they turn her down…”

“They won’t.”

“But we both know it’s possible. She’s good, fantastic even, especially as a performer, but there’s so much competition out there these days, and I dread to think how she’ll take it if she has to give up her dream.”

“She’s far too determined to let anything stand in her way, you know that, and if something does…Well, let’s worry about it when,
if
, it happens. Right now I’m more concerned about Ben and what he’s going to do with his life…Or what he’ll make of having a little brother or sister.”

Matt could only shake his head in bewilderment. “I wouldn’t mind knowing what he makes of anything,” he commented resignedly.

Feeling the same way, Justine said, “Actually, trying to look on the bright side, do you remember how Wes once punched Simon when Simon broke down his door to find out what was going on his room?”

Matt’s smile was wry. “It’s a good reminder, because yes, I do remember, and it ended up becoming a kind of turning point between them. All that surging testosterone…I reckon it scared them both. And look at them now, the best of friends.”

“He’s a lovely boy,” Justine murmured, “and Ben is too, underneath it all. And who knows, finding out about the baby might be a turning point for
him
.”

Matt’s eyebrows rose, showing how doubtful he was of that. “He won’t say anything about it at first,” he decided, “largely because he doesn’t say much about anything, or not to us.”

Squeezing his hand, she said, “Wes tells me they’ve got an archery tournament the week after next, and he thinks he’s talked Ben into taking part. If he does, we must make sure we’re there to support him.”

“If he wants us to be there, and I wouldn’t put any money on that, or on him actually turning up now that Connor’s joined the same club.”

“Mm, yes, Melanie told me about that when she came into the deli earlier. I’m sorry, but that woman…She really gets under my skin. I try not to let it show, but she was going on today about it being all right for some swanning off to Australia and New Zealand, and she supposes the deli will be all beer and barbies from now on. I almost told her she was living in a cultural warp if she thought that was all Australia and New Zealand were about, but it’s not worth getting into anything with her. She’s so supercilious it makes me want to slap her.” Justine groaned as a depressing thought occurred to her. “I’m sure she’ll have plenty to say about late pregnancies when she finds out about me. In fact, she’ll probably organize a midwife or obstetrician to come and give a talk at the village hall.”

Laughing, Matt started to pull himself up from the bed, but promptly fell back again as Abby came charging up the stairs shouting, “Mum! Dad! Where are you?”

“In here,” Justine called out.

A moment later the door banged open and Abby burst into the room, with Chantal close behind.

“It’s Ben,” Abby panted. “He’s up a tree again, in the orchard, and he’s throwing apples at the cows in the next field. It’s really scaring them and he won’t stop.”

Heaving a weary sigh, Matt got up and pulled Justine to her feet.

“You have to make him stop,” Abby insisted. “It’s cruel what he’s doing.”

“He’s not usually cruel,” Chantal piped up in his defense, “but he got mad with Connor on the way home from school and now he’s taking it out on the cows.”

After pulling on some clothes and hiding the pregnancy test, Justine followed Matt and the girls out to the orchard, where the smell of cow dung and wet grass was pungent enough to make her stomach churn. Sliding her hands into the rear pockets of her jeans, she peered up through the tangle of branches to where Ben was perched, ignoring his father as Matt tried to persuade him to come down.

“Please, Ben,” Chantal called out, her pretty, heart-shaped face pale with concern. “You promised to help me with my homework, remember?”

When there was no response, Justine said, “Ben, you can stay up there as long as you like, but if you carry on throwing apples at the cows I’ll call the farmer.”

“Who’ll come with his gun,” Abby shouted, “and shoot you out. They can do that, can’t they, Dad? Farmers can shoot people who mess with their livestock?”

“Why don’t you go and get a life bypass somewhere?” Ben growled at her. “And take Chantal with you.”

As Chantal’s eyes widened with hurt, Justine put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “He doesn’t want you to see him giving in,” she whispered, hoping she was right, and leaving Matt to deal with it, she gently ushered the girls back through the orchard.

It was only a few minutes after she’d managed to dispatch Abby and Chantal down to the deli for any treat of their choice that Matt and Ben came into the kitchen. Seeing how tense they both looked, Justine quickly searched for something friendly to say.

“Don’t just walk away,” Matt snapped angrily as Ben made for the stairs. “You need to tell us what the hell’s wrong, and something obviously is.”

To Justine’s surprise and relief, Ben stopped at the foot of the stairs, but didn’t turn round.

“What happened with Connor?” she asked gently. “Why did you fall out?”

“Because he’s an asshole,” Ben grunted scathingly. His tone implied that she, a supposedly intelligent human being, should have understood that.

“What did he do?” Matt wanted to know.

Ben shook his head; his long, matted hair was masking his face, but Justine could see how tightly he was gripping the stair rail. A moment later, to her astonishment, she realized he was crying, great hiccuping sobs, and by the time she reached him he’d dropped to his knees. “It’s all right,” she murmured, trying to help him up, or at least find a place for her arms that he would be able to accept. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she insisted, looking helplessly at Matt. This was the last thing either of them had expected.

“What is it, son?” Matt urged, as Ben turned his back on them. “Why are you so upset?”

“What did Connor do?” Justine pressed, finding herself wondering if the crying was as real as it seemed, and hating herself for doubting it.

“It’s not him,” Ben choked, “it’s you two.” And suddenly rushing up the stairs, he charged along the landing to his room.

Matt was after him like a shot, getting there before Ben could lock the door. “What about us?” Matt demanded as Ben roared like an animal and flung himself down on the bed. He glared at Justine, who’d come in behind him.

She was looking around. The room was a black hole of teenage-boy flotsam, with rugby and football boots, crossbows, cricket bats, old food and drink cartons, hockey sticks, videogames, and magazines cluttering the floor. The duvet was bunched into a heap against the headboard, towels blocked the way into the bathroom, clothes were spilling out of the wardrobe, and his computer and TV were haphazardly filling up the space between tangles of wires, consoles, keyboards and remote controls. The only order in the room was inside the cabinet containing his many sporting trophies, although Justine noticed that one of the glass panels was cracked. All four of the curtains at his double windows were hanging off the poles.

Going to sit on the bed, Matt put a hand on his shoulder.

Ben quickly shrugged it away.

“What have we done?” Matt said gently. “Please tell us why you’re so angry with us.”

“Just go away. Fuck off,” Ben snarled into the pillow.

“Sweetheart,” Justine said, kneeling beside him, and still not sure how trusting she was of this outburst, “we can’t make anything better, or even apologize, if you won’t tell us what the problem is.”

As he continued to growl and rage into his pillow Matt and Justine looked at each other, not sure what to do.

“You don’t care about me,” Ben seethed furiously. “I don’t mean anything to you. All you care about is Abby.”

“That isn’t true,” Justine cried. “We care just as much.”

“Liar! You wish I was dead.”

“That’s just nonsense,” Justine protested.

“Why are you telling yourself these things?” Matt interrupted. “You’ve got to know that—”

“You’re always doing stuff with her. You never do anything with me.”

“Because you don’t want to do anything,” Matt reminded him. “But if you’ve changed your mind and you want to start going to games again…”

“You mean with Uncle Simon, because you never come anywhere with me.”

“Ben, how can you say that?” Justine exclaimed. “We’ve taken you to World Cup matches, European championships, the Olympics, for God’s sake…You’ve been to Twickenham, Wembley, Yankee Stadium with Dad…”

“You don’t come, though, do you?” he shouted. “You’re always too busy doing stuff with
Abby.
”

“Stop this right now,” Matt barked. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have been to all the places you have? The experiences you’ve had, the things you’ve seen…”

“You even came back from Australia so you could be at the gig for
Abby.
”

“We’d have done the same for you if something special had happened,” Matt assured him.

“But you didn’t, did you? I was supposed to be going to camp in the summer, but you couldn’t be bothered to come with me. All the other dads went, but I didn’t have anyone to come with me, so I had to stay at home.”

Matt frowned in confusion. “When was this? You never told me…”

“Because you don’t listen. Nothing I say is of interest to you. I’m just a waste of space. You’re ashamed of me—”

“Stop talking nonsense,” Matt broke in forcefully. He was looking at Justine, clearly wondering if she knew anything about this summer camp.

Briefly shaking her head, she watched Ben sit up, plant his elbows on his knees, and hang his head down between them.

Carefully, Matt said, “Did Wesley and Uncle Simon go on the camping trip?”

Ben muttered, “It was just our year.”

“And you’re sure you told me about it?”

“I brought a note home from school.”

Afraid that he might have and they’d somehow missed it, Justine asked, “Why didn’t you say something? We could have postponed the trip, or got Uncle Simon to go with you.”

“I didn’t want Uncle Simon to come. I wanted Dad.”

Looking as wretched as he was clearly meant to feel, Matt said, “I’m sorry I let you down, son. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, it will, because it always does. Now why don’t you fuck off out of my room, both of you, I don’t want you in here anymore.”

It wasn’t until they were downstairs and safely out of earshot that Matt said quietly, “Well, at least he’s talking.”

Choking on a laugh, Justine put a finger to her lips and walked into his arms. Today, she decided, was definitely not the right day to tell Ben about the baby.

Present Day—Culver, Indiana

Darkness had fallen more than an hour ago; Lula and Hazel still hadn’t been found.

There were people everywhere, crowding the lane, combing the lake shore, spreading into the woods…The state police had arrived, boosting the numbers of local officers. Everyone seemed to be shouting into radios and cellphones; blue lights flashed through the trees, over the moonlit water, across the house.

Justine was on the porch, desperate to act, not knowing what to do. Panic was trying to overwhelm her; fear was striking her heart with thick, violent stabs. The police had ordered her to wait here; they were handling things now. She was unable to make herself believe it was happening—it had to be a nightmare. No one had taken Lula and Hazel, they couldn’t have, yet where were they?