After the Party Page 9

  ‘So what’s that—early April? Isn’t that when you’re getting married?’ said Lisa. ‘You won’t have much time to help us look.’

  ‘I’ll make time,’ said Jamie fervently. ‘Sound like a deal. Scott?’

  ‘Okay.’ He sighed and scratched his head. ‘I hope you two know what you’re doing.’

  ‘We do.’ Jamie gave first Lisa, then Scott a kiss on the cheek. ‘I need to get going, but I’ll call you in the morning.’

  Once Jamie had left, the house fell into silence. Scott and Lisa set about making up the trundle bed in Ava and Jemima’s room. They both agreed it would be nicer for her to wake with familiar faces, rather than in the isolation of the study. Once it was ready, Scott gently collected Ellie off their bed and carried her carefully down the stairs and along the hallway to Ava and Jemima’s room. Lisa pulled back the covers and the little girl stirred briefly, before settling back into a peaceful sleep, her eyelids purple with fatigue. Lisa kissed her forehead and retreated to the door. She paused. Through their window, she had a view out to the street. Most of the homes were in darkness now but, as always, she gave herself a moment to think about what was happening behind those closed doors. Were there parents fighting? Violence? Kids frightened? Maybe going to bed on an empty stomach? There would be all those sorts of terrible things and more; her time in the group home had taught her that.

  Leaning on the doorframe, Lisa allowed her body to relax for the first time in what had proven to be a crazy day. In turn, she looked at each one of the three little girls before her. Safe, warm, clean, well-fed and loved. Exactly how it should be.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  There was no way Missy would sleep that night and she had no idea why she was bothering to try. She kicked off the cheap, scratchy sheets and flicked on the bedside lamp, casting the sheets into a tone best described as ‘aged-yellow’. The hotel was a complete dive, but they took cash and when Missy said she had no identification the manager hadn’t batted an eyelid.

  Since her check-in, there’d been a procession of trucks roaring in and out of the car park, headlights flashing into Missy’s room and footsteps that sounded a lot like stilettos. Thank goodness she hadn’t brought Ellie here. It was no place for a child.

  She padded into the bathroom for a glass of water. At the tap, she gripped the sides of the basin and leant in. She’d never spent a night away from Ellie. Never spent more than a few hours away from her, except for work. Missy angled her head one way, then the other. Who was she in this gaping silence? What had she done? Could she still call herself a mother?

  She leant out. Her hair was limp and unwashed. So long since it was cut, nearly grazing her hip now. She should cut it. Dye it. That’s what people did in her situation, didn’t they?

  She twisted it up into a knot. Maybe not yet. Her hair was long, but thin. She could hide it under a cap, something she’d need to wear anyway, just to be sure

  Emotionally and physically, she was spent. For most of the day, she’d discreetly staked out the Wheeldons’, almost sick with fear that the police would turn up at any moment.

  They didn’t.

  There was hope.

  Watching from behind the low brick wall of a seemingly vacant home, Missy had watched Lisa leave and then return a short time later with Ellie, her arm slung over the child’s shoulders. Missy knew exactly where they’d been. The granny flat would have been the first place she’d go too, if she’d been in Lisa’s position. Question was—what would Lisa do next?

  Minutes had become hours. Missy watched the clouds and made pictures out of them, something she did with Ellie. She had seen the bloke on the Vespa arrive but didn’t catch a look at his face, because of the helmet and the approaching sunset. He’d left pretty quickly as well. Missy presumed he was no one special.

  Then nothing. Maybe the letter would be enough? Maybe Lisa would intuitively understand the desperation of the situation? Maybe she would prove to be the loving, wonderful mother that Missy believed her to be? Her plan was to stick close for a couple of days, just to make sure Ellie was safe, and that Lisa Wheeldon had no intention of passing her into the hands of the authorities.

  Missy had trusted the police, once. She’d believed their promises. Taken them at their word and put her life in their hands, confident in their powers to keep her and Ellie safe. After all, they were the people that caught the crooks and stood up for justice. They were the people you were told to trust, as if the uniform gave them special powers.

  But they were just human beings. She knew that now. Trusting them had made her and Ellie vulnerable. There were good ones and bad ones—just as there were in all walks of life. Policing was, after all, a job. It wasn’t, necessarily, who you were. It wasn’t even necessarily for life. Not like being a mother. That’s why Missy had chosen Lisa. A loving mother would do more to protect a child than the police ever would.

  At least, that’s what she hoped.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jamie stood before her wardrobe and surveyed the array of clothes before her. Normally, she loved the process of getting ready and going to work. Even on a Monday. There wasn’t a part of it she didn’t enjoy. From deciding which combination of skirt and heels to wear, to catching the bus with everyone smelling of perfume and expensive aftershave, to getting a coffee and buttery raisin toast from her favourite barista downstairs, to then seeing Benny’s smiling but slightly nervous face already at his desk, ready to talk her through the day, share any office gossip he’d heard, or be a welcome listener for any woes that Jamie cared to dump on his shoulders.

  But today she was nervous and tired, and casting an eye over her wardrobe she tried to suppress a huge yawn. She’d had a terrible night’s sleep, with her thoughts tumbling between Ellie and the police, and her upcoming wedding to Jared. Six weeks to organise a wedding! Could she really do it? In the end, she’d slept fitfully and dreamt of the police interrupting the wedding mid-vows, to snatch Ellie, acting as flower girl, from her side.

  Quickly, Jamie settled on her new black Chanel, fit-and-flare mini, matched with a wine-coloured, pussy-bow blouse from a high street chain (head-to-toe designer was so nineties) which was just see-through enough to allow for a tiny peek at the black lace bra beneath. She capped it off with her scariest Jimmy Choos—black, shiny, and pointier than a dagger—murder to walk in, but sexy as hell.

  Jared wolf-whistled as she made her entrance into the kitchen. ‘Big meeting on today, babe?’

  ‘Oh, nothing too special.’ She offered her cheek for him to kiss so she wouldn’t smudge her red lipstick. She wouldn’t mention Ellie, or the wedding. Last night, Jared had been acting funny about both.

  Jared dumped the bowl in the sink and started tying his tie.

  Pointedly, Jamie took the bowl, put it in the dishwasher, slammed it shut and told herself to breathe. It was just a bowl, after all. She needed to let it go. If he hadn’t changed his ways after her asking him three thousand times to put his damn bowl in the dishwasher, he wasn’t going to. And what did it matter? It was just a bowl.

  Her phone bleeped. A text from Lise.

  I’m going crazy. Can’t stop thinking about Ellie’s mum! Are we doing the right thing?

  Jamie tapped back. Yes. Definitely. Who knows what would happen to her if you went to the police …

  Poor Lise. What a weird experience! That poor little girl, to be abandoned by her own mother, and she seemed such a lovely kid. But the note. It was odd. Was there a chance that in doing the right thing by Ellie, Lisa was putting her own family in danger?

  ‘It’s very weird,’ said Jamie, not realising she’d spoken out loud.

  ‘What’s weird?’ said Jared.

  Jamie paused. Should she level with him? Share her concerns? Yes, he’d seemed a bit strange about it all last night, but if they were taking their relationship to the next level, maybe it was time she started confiding in him. Really confiding in him.

  She took a deep breath. ‘That whole thing last nig
ht with little Ellie. I mean, why would a mother do such a thing?’

  Jared straightened his tie and checked his watch. ‘Babe, I’m running late as it is.’

  Why are you acting so strange about all of this?

  ‘See you tonight.’ He kissed her so quickly that it was more like a lip-swipe, and then he was gone, leaving only the smell of his aftershave to keep Jamie company. She hated how he did that—how he got out of bed after her, showered after her, ate his breakfast after her, yet managed to leave the house first. It wasn’t fair. When Jared lived on his own, he was a model of domestic godliness. So when they moved in together and he suggested that the last person to leave the house should ensure its tidiness, she readily agreed, never for a minute thinking that Jared would always be first to go. Unlike her, he was terrible at going to work. Moaned about it. Put the alarm on to snooze at least twice. Never ironed his shirt till the last minute, yet he still managed to scoot away first.

  Fuming, Jamie quickly wiped down the bench where Jared had left splodges of milk and checked the bathroom where she knew he wouldn’t have bothered to hang up his towel. She wasn’t dressed for this, she thought, careful not to get her Jimmy Choos wet in the damp bathroom. It was like having a child. Poor Lise. Having to do this all day, every day.

  If I get pregnant straight away, maybe I can have the baby in Dubai and employ maids and nannies to help me out.

  Yes! It would be perfect.

  With a spring in her stiletto steps, Jamie swept out the door, leaving behind a cloud of Jiff, and dreaming about the great, big diamonds she would lust after in her lunch break. Engagement ring shopping would surely take her mind off things.

  Jamie flung her handbag onto the desk and gratefully accepted the toast and coffee being offered to her.

  ‘Benny, you’re a lifesaver.’ She planted a big, lipsticky kiss on his unsuspecting cheek, causing it to flush nearly as red as the lippie. Secretly, she enjoyed unnerving the poor man. He was so cute when he blushed. He was usually so collected. So together. So neat. It was fun to see him brought a little undone at the seams. ‘Oops. I’ve lipsticked you. Let me get a tissue.’ He couldn’t meet her eyes as she held his chin in one hand and dabbed at his cheek with the other. Gosh his aftershave smelled good. Gucci, at a guess. They always made the best. Deep and woody. She closed her eyes for a millisecond and inhaled. When she opened them, Ben was staring and Jamie felt something twinge in her groin. His eyes were like little pots of hot chocolate, deep and creamy brown. His boyfriend, whoever it was, was a lucky man. Not that Jamie actually knew for sure that he was gay; Ben was too discreet about his personal life, but she just assumed. After all, he was so neat, so sensitive, and he tended to wear pink shirts a lot. Yes, it was a superficial judgement, but they did work in PR after all, where superficial appearances and actuality were interchangeable. A company was its image.

  She stopped dabbing. ‘Right, that’s it then. All clean.’ Ben was staring at her oddly; maybe she’d gone too far? Jamie broke the moment by briskly settling into her chair and drawing it into the desk.

  ‘Righto. What mess do we have to deal with today?’ She fired up the computer and brought up a very blank looking diary on the screen. ‘Why is it empty?’

  ‘Hang on a sec.’ Leaning over her, Ben swept and clicked her mouse. ‘Here it is,’ he murmured, tickling her ear.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Jamie curtly, as another twinge went off. ‘Now, can you please sit down? I can’t talk properly if you’re behind me.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Ben hurried round to the other side.

  ‘No, I’m sorry.’ Jamie sighed. ‘I had quite the weekend. Kind of a good news-bad news type weekend.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘The bad or the good.’

  ‘Start with the bad.’

  She filled him in on Ava’s party, and Ellie, the little lost girl. As she described her, Ben’s frown deepened.

  ‘That poor kid. And your poor sister, and you too,’ Ben added. ‘Traumatising for all of you, really, given what you went through with your own folks.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Jamie agreed. ‘I mean, obviously I think about Mum and Dad all the time, and the group home was pretty awful, but I don’t know, I think Lise shielded me from so much of it. She made it bearable, and she was always born to parent, which helped.’

  ‘Maybe the other mother knew that.’ Ben had picked up a pencil and was now chewing on it thoughtfully.

  ‘How? Lisa doesn’t even know this woman, so how could she know anything about Lisa?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Ben paused. ‘What about the good news?’ he prompted. ‘You said you had bad news and good news.’

  ‘Oh, yes, right.’ Jamie took her eyes off the screen and felt a flutter of nerves. Why am I so worried? It’s just Ben, after all!

  She exhaled. ‘I’m engaged.’

  ‘To Jared?’

  ‘That’s what my sister said!’

  ‘It’s just,’ Ben waited a beat. ‘You’ve always said he wasn’t really the marrying kind.’

  ‘That’s what all women say when they’re waiting to be asked.’ Didn’t Ben know anything?

  ‘Well, congratulations then. He’s a very lucky guy …’ Ben trailed off as Jamie waved away the compliment and started looking through her appointments.

  ‘Nine am, 9 am,’ she murmured to herself, trying to find the right spot.

  ‘You’re happy, right?’ Ben leant in closer and seemed to hold his breath.

  ‘Yes, yes. Of course. Ecstatic. Who wouldn’t be?’

  ‘So when’s the big day?’

  ‘Early April.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Ben’s eyes widened. ‘What’s the rush?’

  Jamie explained Jared’s job promotion and the move to Dubai.

  ‘So you’re quitting work as well?’ Ben slumped in the chair, as if he’d been punched.

  Jamie leant in, a finger to her mouth in the shushing position. ‘Please keep it to yourself,’ she whispered. ‘Angel will make my life hell if she knows I’m leaving.’

  Ben nodded slowly and looked out the window. ‘I don’t want you to go.’

  Jamie looked at him. The poor man. She’d just downloaded a whole lot of trauma onto his shoulders, not thinking how heavy the burden would be. He was a sensitive soul. He took things to heart. She should have thought about that before she opened her mouth. Of course he would be a little worried. After all, her move to Dubai would mean a new boss for him. A new boss who might not want Ben as an assistant.

  ‘Don’t worry, Benny. I’ll put in an extra-special good word for you when I submit my resignation,’ she said quietly. ‘This might be good for you. It might mean a promotion.’

  ‘It’s not that—’

  ‘Uh-uh,’ Jamie interrupted, shaking her head and putting her finger to her lips as a tornado of grey curls and hi-tops spun its way towards them.

  ‘My little minions,’ Angel cried, blowing air-kisses at Ben and Jamie as she stood over the desk. Angel only ever air-kissed, but not for fear of lipsticking other people (she never wore lippie—said it was ageing for a woman of ‘certain years’) but because of the hygiene. The woman never got sick and put her rude good health down to a strict regimen of air-kissing, fish oil and an unhealthy addiction to sanitising gel. Once, in the wake of an office-decimating cold virus, Angel had called a staff meeting to instruct them in the correct use of the stuff: You’re all too stingy. Use with abandon, my darlings. Lather it on, my sweets. Your immune system will thank you for it! Mid-lather, Jamie had facetiously suggested Angel buy shares in the product, which in typical Angel-style, had spun off a totally new business idea—ecologically sound, sweet-smelling, alcohol-free hand sanitiser.

  The product was in development. Jamie would manage the launch when it was ready.

  I want this gel in every woman’s handbag. I want it to be bigger than perfume! No pressure, then.

  As Jamie slapped her cheek in acceptance of Angel’s blown air-kiss, a happy thought crossed h
er mind. I won’t have to launch the sanitiser! I won’t be here. Dubai was sounding better and better all the time.

  ‘Any news, my sweets? Hmm? Hmm?’ she said expectantly, looking from Jamie to Ben. You had to hand it to her. Angel was like a bloodhound when it came to gossip, sniffing it out wherever she went. Come to think of it, she did have a habit of walking around with her chin up and nose in the air. Jamie had put that down to Angel’s refusal to be distracted, but maybe it was about keeping her nose to the wind.

  Ben cleared his throat. ‘I think Jamie has something to tell you.’ He looked at her, challenging.

  I’m too scared to tell her I’m leaving. Jamie looked at Ben in alarm. I thought you were my friend.

  ‘Well, my little head minion,’ said Angel, checking her watch. ‘Out with it. We haven’t got all day.’

  ‘Well, I’m …’ Moving to Dubai. Moving to Dubai. Just say it. Rip that bandaid off in one hit.

  ‘Getting married,’ Ben supplied with a rueful smile.

  Getting married. Of course. Why do I keep forgetting that part?

  ‘What? To Jared?’ asked Angel, sounding genuinely confused.

  ‘Of course, Jared. Why does everyone say that?’

  ‘Men like Jared do not marry,’ declared Angel, resting two hands on Jamie’s desk and leaning over it as if issuing a business directive.

  ‘Well, he wants to marry me.’ Jamie stared back at the screen. Why couldn’t anyone believe that Jared wanted to marry her? Was it because he was too good-looking for her? Too successful? In the air above her head, she felt Angel and Ben exchange glances.

  ‘If Jared was going to marry anyone, of course it would be you, darling. You’re gorgeous.’ Angel patted the air above her shoulder. ‘Let’s have a little office shindig this afternoon to celebrate. Benny’ll organise the champers, won’t you, my sweet?’ She gave him a dazzling smile and flounced off towards the hallway.

  ‘Angel,’ Jamie called after her. ‘There’s just one more thing.’