скачать книгу бесплатно
Poppy’s honesty was as charming as it was painful at times. Neve had long since learned to take any negatives on the chin, but every now and again, it did hurt – just a little bit. She looked down at her dress. She’d only bought it last week and had loved it as soon as she had seen it. An unbidden wish to have a daughter who shared her likes and loves flicked through Neve’s mind, immediately followed by a rush of guilt. Neve wasn’t wishing Poppy was different, it was just sometimes the thought of another child, whose company was easier to navigate, made Neve yearn for that one thing her husband was denying her.
The sound of footsteps coming down the hall cancelled the need to take the conversation further. Kit came through into the kitchen, straightening his tie whilst carrying his jacket in the crook of his arm.
‘You’re late,’ said Poppy, without looking up at her father.
Neve exchanged a look with Kit. ‘Late?’ he queried and then dropped a kiss on his daughter’s head. ‘Morning, Poppy.’
‘You were supposed to be here about twenty seconds ago,’ said Neve, popping a coffee pod into the machine.
‘Twenty-five, actually,’ corrected Poppy.
‘Oops, sorry,’ said Kit. He moved around the central island counter and kissed Neve on the cheek. ‘What’s on the agenda for today?’
‘I have some shopping to do, then it’s the open afternoon at Poppy’s school.’ Kit’s blank expression told her he’d forgotten. Neve enlightened him. ‘Where we get to see the project they’ve been working on?’
‘Town and Country project,’ interjected Poppy. ‘You said you’d come.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said Kit, fiddling with his tie. ‘I did, didn’t I?’ He looked at Neve with a ‘help me out of this’ expression.
Neve was tempted to let him dig his own way out. Kit, of all people, should know that breaking a promise to Poppy wasn’t something that could be passed off easily. And why should it? Just because Poppy had a different perspective on life to most other people, why did he think it was OK to let her down? He’d been so distracted with his work lately, he seemed to be putting that above everything, including herself and Poppy. Neve had tried talking to Kit about it on several occasions, but he had been dismissive, saying Neve was over-reacting and he was just distracted while a new contract between the boat builders and marina was being negotiated. There was always some important contract being negotiated lately, Neve had thought wearily.
‘It’s not nice to break a promise,’ said Poppy, her head dipping lower as her gaze remained fixed on the contents of her glass.
‘I know, darling …’ Kit began. He held up his hands. ‘Sorry, I know I shouldn’t break a promise, but I have a really important meeting at work today. I can’t miss it.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’ Neve couldn’t help herself saying out loud, although the thought perhaps should have stayed in her head.
Kit glared at her. ‘Sean needs me at a meeting with the marina harbourmaster. They’re looking to agree on the development project for the new speedboat. You know that, I told you about it before.’ He turned back to his daughter. ‘Poppy, I’m really sorry and you’re right, breaking promises is not a good thing, but sometimes other things get in the way.’
‘You want to see Sean’s project but not mine.’ Poppy crammed the last piece of toast into her mouth.
Kit turned to Neve again. ‘You’ll be there, won’t you?’
‘I will.’ Neve kept thoughts of ‘aren’t I always’ and ‘why wouldn’t I be?’ to herself. She didn’t want to highlight to Poppy her growing frustration at Kit’s increasing lack of commitment to his daughter. She was beginning to feel like a single parent.
‘Neve will tell me all about it,’ said Kit. ‘I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you out on the boat at the weekend. How about that?’
It was almost as if he’d read Neve’s thoughts, although a one-off boat trip wasn’t the same as day-to-day involvement.
Poppy stopped chewing and cast her gaze in Kit’s direction, although still avoided eye contact. ‘OK.’
Neve watched as Kit heaved a sigh of relief. He grinned broadly at Poppy. ‘Excellent. Now, I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.’
‘Bye.’ Poppy got down from the stool and padded out of the kitchen.
‘Brush your teeth!’ called Neve after her.
‘Thanks for that,’ said Kit.
‘I didn’t do anything,’ replied Neve.
‘Exactly,’ said Kit sarcastically.
‘I think you’ve got away with that very lightly. A trip out on the boat.’
‘It’s just one of those things. I can’t avoid this meeting.’ Kit looked over at the shopping list Neve had prepared earlier. He picked up the pen and added to it.
Neve turned the list back round to read the addition. ‘Condoms.’
‘Yep. We used the last one at the weekend. Remember?’ He winked at her and patted her backside.
‘How could I forget?’ The words came out with a touch more resentment than Neve intended. Kit’s insistence to always use a condom was beginning to erode Neve’s belief that she would ever change his mind about having a baby. In the hot anticipation of making love, she’d mentioned the thorny subject to Kit and managed to elicit a promise from him that he would think about it again. Now, Neve slipped her arms around Kit’s neck. ‘I also remember our conversation.’
‘About?’
‘Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten that too,’ said Neve. She cocked her head to one side. ‘You know, you were going to think about it again.’
The smile on Kit’s face dropped like a stone. He exhaled a long breath and gently removed Neve’s hands from his neck. ‘We agreed.’
‘We didn’t. You decided. There’s a difference.’
‘Neve, I don’t want to give you false hope; the answer is still no.’
Neve felt the tears spike her eyes. She blinked hard. She felt desperate. She was finding it increasingly more and more difficult to contemplate a life without a child of her own. She knew there was no middle ground on the issue, no compromise, and this only served to frustrate her even more. One of them had to do a complete U-turn. ‘Please don’t just say no without thinking about it. I mean, really thinking about it. I’m on the verge of begging you.’
‘And we’ve had this conversation so many times lately. Come on, Neve, it’s not like I’ve suddenly changed my mind about it. I’ve always been honest with you. You’re being unfair. I do wish you could just accept it.’
‘And I wish you could accept the risk of something tragic happening again is remote. I’m willing to take the chance.’
‘I’m not. I’m not willing to risk losing another wife in childbirth and …’ he glanced over his shoulder, ‘… and having another child with special needs as a result,’ he finished. He fixed Neve with a glare, daring her to challenge him, before striding round to the other side of the island worktop. ‘I’m not having this conversation again. Understand?’
Sadly, Neve did understand. She had always thought that she might be able to persuade Kit to change his mind. Never in a million years had she thought that when they first had the conversation about increasing their little family unit from three to four, his reluctance was, in fact, a determination. He was never going to have any more children. He was never going to subject himself to the trauma he went through with his first wife. And he certainly was never going to run the risk of having another child starved of oxygen and suffering brain damage as a result. She understood it wasn’t that he didn’t love Poppy. He totally loved her, but his time and emotions were stretched enough looking after just one child, so looking after two was a physical and mental impossibility for Kit. Neve’s thoughts turned back to her adopted daughter and she followed Kit out to the hall.
‘Are you sure there’s no way you can cancel Sean and get to Poppy’s presentation?’
‘No. I can’t. I’m sorry,’ said Kit. ‘You’ll be there; that will make her happy.’
‘Just as well I cancelled my art class, then,’ said Neve. She couldn’t help feeling peeved at Kit’s lack of concern at missing Poppy’s presentation, and in assuming that she’d be there to pick up the pieces. It didn’t matter to him that she had to cancel something that was important to her.
Kit gave a laugh. ‘It’s just an art class. Not like it’s a job, or anything.’
‘And whose fault is that? You don’t want me to have a job!’
‘A lot of women would love to be in your shoes and not have to work. I like you here at home, so does Poppy. Why are you getting all worked up about an art class anyway?’ asked Kit.
‘Because it’s not just an art class,’ said Neve, resisting the urge to stamp her foot in frustration. ‘It’s my art therapy class.’
‘It won’t hurt you to miss it just this once,’ said Kit.
‘You’re being so unreasonable,’ said Neve. ‘Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, I’ve gone out of my way to make sure I’m there for Poppy. Why can’t you?’
Kit gave an exaggerated sigh, as he spun round to face Neve. ‘Tell me, is it the fact that you’ve had to cancel your art class that’s pissing you off or the fact that you won’t be seeing Picasso this week?’
‘What are you talking about?’ Neve could feel the colour rising up her neck.
‘Jake. You’re always going on about him, how he understands art so well, how he uses colours to interpret moods, how the passion shines out from his paintings,’ said Kit, mimicking Neve’s voice. ‘You’ve even started making your face a work of art in the mornings. More red lipstick, fussing over your hair. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.’
‘What? Are you mad?’ asked Neve, hoping her indignation was convincing enough. Really, she felt embarrassed; it was true, she had been fussing over her hair a bit more and as much as she tried to deny it to herself, she knew deep down it was for Jake’s benefit. But to be called out on it by her husband was humiliating. She genuinely didn’t think Kit had noticed the extra attention she was giving to her appearance and she was annoyed with herself for being so naïve. The last thing she wanted was Kit thinking she was involved with Jake in any way, although, she had to admit to herself that she found Jake attractive and there was no denying it was reciprocated. Not that either of them had said anything to each other, but she could feel it fizzling in the air between them.
‘I think the fact that your face has turned bright red and you have that blotchy rash across your neck is all the proof I need.’ Kit took a step closer. ‘Is there something you want to tell me, Neve?’
Neve held her nerve, more from pride than innocence. ‘There is nothing to tell,’ she said. ‘Jake is my art tutor, that’s all.’ She paused, not blinking an eye, daring Kit to say something more. ‘Typical of you to jump to conclusions.’
Then, to her surprise, he gave a smile followed by a fleeting kiss on the mouth. ‘Good. Let’s keep it that way,’ he said, before turning and calling to Poppy. ‘I’m going now, Poppy. I’ll see you later.’
Neve watched as Kit waited for a response from his daughter. She fought hard to hold back the tears that were threatening. Kit didn’t know how lucky he was to have a child of his own. He loved Poppy deeply and was even more protective of her because of what had happened and how the events of the past had affected her and, yet, he couldn’t understand how not having a child herself tormented Neve. She loved Poppy, there was no question about that, she’d been in Neve’s life for the past seven years, the last five as her legally adopted daughter, but Poppy wasn’t Neve’s. The inner desire and need to have a child of her own had never diminished and, if anything, grew more intense as her now 29-year-old body clock ticked along. And as much as it upset her, it made her cross too. Who the hell was Kit to say what she could and couldn’t have?
‘Where is she?’ said Kit, impatience evident in his voice.
‘I sent her up to brush her teeth,’ said Neve. She joined Kit at the foot of the stairs and called up. ‘Poppy! Your dad’s going. He wants to say goodbye.’
No answer.
‘Poppy!’ Kit had raised his voice to a shout.
They both listened for an answer and when met with silence, they exchanged a look.
‘I’ll go and get her,’ said Neve, not saying what they were both thinking.
Neve knocked at the closed bathroom door. ‘Poppy? You OK?’ She strained to hear the sound of Poppy brushing her teeth or the water running. Neve tried the handle and the door opened without resistance. The bathroom was empty.
Neve went along the landing to Poppy’s bedroom. She repeated the procedure of knocking on the door and waiting for an answer and when she didn’t receive a response, she opened the door. Once again, the room was empty. Neve felt her stomach give a little dip. ‘Please don’t do this,’ she whispered as she made a thorough check of all the rooms upstairs.
She leaned over the bannisters. ‘See if she’s in the car or outside.’
She heard Kit give a groan as he strode out through the door. Neve hurried down the stairs to find her phone. Standing in the kitchen, she dialled Poppy’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. She tried a second time, but got the same result.
In the last three or four months, Poppy had taken to running off in a sulk whenever she didn’t get her own way. It started when Kit had said no to her having her ears pierced and said she had to wait until she was sixteen. Despite Neve trying to convince him to change his mind, he’d refused, and it had resulted in Poppy running out the door. They’d found her twenty minutes later sitting on the swings at the park. The time after that, they’d argued about whether she could watch something on TV which both Neve and Kit had deemed unsuitable. Poppy had snuck out to her friend’s house in a strop, sending Neve and Kit into a ten-minute frenzy trying to locate her, before Libby’s mother, Heather, had rung to say Poppy was there. The last time, Poppy had made it all the way into town in an attempt to reach Kit’s mother’s house but had got hopelessly lost at the bus station and fortunately a concerned passenger had called the police. The repercussions had been embarrassing and unpleasant as the police had involved Poppy’s healthcare worker and school, all in the name of safeguarding. It had taken a two-hour meeting to convince the authorities that Poppy was safe and in no danger from her or Kit. No one wanted a repeat performance of that day.
Trying Poppy’s number for a third time, Neve hurried down the hall to the front door.
‘She’s not out there either. I’ve checked the front and back garden. No sign of her,’ said Kit, meeting Neve at the door. ‘Are you ringing her now?’
‘Yes, but it’s going straight to voicemail. She must have switched it off.’ Neve cut the call.
‘For fuck’s sake.’
‘We’d better go and look for her.’ Neve grabbed her car keys from the table. ‘I’ll go in my car and look in the village and the playing field. I’ll give Heather a call too, just in case she’s turned up there.’
‘I’ll ring Mum.’
‘Don’t do that yet, she’ll only worry. Let’s see if we can find Poppy in the village first. Check down by the river and the meadow.’ She looked at Kit as his expression shifted from annoyance to concern. She felt a wave of sympathy for him. ‘Don’t worry, she can’t be far away.’
Chapter 2 (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)
It was easy for Neve to say ‘don’t worry’, thought Kit, jumping into his Mercedes; it wasn’t her daughter that was missing. He immediately felt like a shit for even thinking that. He knew how much his wife thought of his daughter and he knew it would hurt Neve to know he’d even gone there with his thoughts. All the same, when it was your own flesh and blood, it was different.
He pushed back the fear – it was a useless emotion which clouded judgement. Instead he concentrated on his anger; that he could deal with. Poppy knew they would be worried, especially after last time with that bloody social worker, or healthcare visitor, or whatever the hell she was, prying into their lives. Implying that she didn’t fully trust him or Neve. Who the fuck was she? The old cow would have a field day now if they didn’t find Poppy soon.
Kit drove down the main street of the village past the coffee shop where Neve’s friend, Lucie, worked. The place wasn’t open yet and there was no sign of Poppy hanging around outside. Kit wasn’t even sure if Poppy had any money on her. He should have got Neve to check the money jar on Poppy’s windowsill.
The war memorial was at the end of the street and the bus stop was filling up with kids from the local secondary school who were bussed in and out each day. It was also the pick-up point for the St Joseph school bus. Kit scanned the burgundy blazers of the secondary school kids already waiting, hoping to spot Poppy in her home clothes in line with St Joseph’s no uniform policy.
For a moment he thought he saw her, but the flowery top belonged to a sixth former. Some of the pupils were turning to stare at the slowing car. Feeling conspicuous and the need to explain he wasn’t some weirdo, Kit put the window down and leaned across the centre console.
‘Just looking for my daughter, Poppy Masters. She gets the St Joseph’s bus normally. Have you seen her?’
The shrugs and blank looks on the kids’ faces gave him his answer.
‘The St Joseph’s bus is just coming now,’ said one of the girls nodding down the road.
Kit watched the yellow and white minibus pull up alongside the kerb. Kit jumped out of his car and went over to the driver.
‘Hi, I’m Kit Masters,’ he began. ‘My daughter Poppy usually gets this bus.’
The driver gave Kit an expectant look. ‘Where is she? I can’t hang about, I get into trouble if I’m more than five minutes late.’
‘Yeah, sure. Erm, she’s …’ Kit stopped himself explaining any further. He didn’t want to draw attention to the fact she was missing just yet. ‘She’s not getting the bus today,’ he said. ‘Just thought I’d let you know, seeing as she’s your only pick-up from the village. Didn’t want you hanging around for nothing.’
The driver looked surprised. ‘Oh, right. Well, thanks very much for letting me know. I wish other parents were as considerate. Save me a whole load of time that would.’ He gave Kit a nod of thanks and the automatic door wheezed shut.
Kit watched the minibus head off towards the bridge. He gave a sigh and hopped back in his car whilst wishing he could give Poppy a bloody good telling off for this one.
Next stop was the river. Neve and Poppy often walked the dog down here and thinking about it logically, it was probably one of the most obvious places to look for her. Parking the Mercedes in the small car park alongside the riverbank, Kit jogged along the path.
Despite it being summer, it was muddy underfoot from the recent rain and every now and then he had to lengthen his stride to clear a puddle. He had his best shoes on today, ready for the meeting later, and despite his athletic efforts to avoid the grey squelchy mud washed down from the surrounding chalk hills, it was easing its way over the stitched welt of his shoes.
There was a bench around the corner, just before the bridge. Perhaps Poppy would be there? He quickened his pace in anticipation, but his heart plummeted at the sight of the empty seat.
His gaze travelled further along the footpath to the arched bridge which stretched across the River Amble. He peered into the shadows of the arch and could just make out two figures leaning on the handrail overlooking the fast-flowing tidal water. He sped up even more.
As he neared the bridge, relief was the first emotion that swept through him as he recognised his daughter. This was rapidly followed by alarm; who the hell was she with? It looked like a man.
‘Poppy!’ His voice boomed out and he saw his daughter physically jump. The man’s reaction was less exaggerated. He simply turned his head to one side, looking towards Kit, and casually moved his body so he was leaning back against the railings, resting on his elbows.
Now Kit was within a few feet of them he could see the man’s face. It was hard to say how old he was; the beard gave the initial impression that he was perhaps in his early thirties, a few years younger than Kit. The man had an eyebrow piercing and a lip ring. Kit wouldn’t have been at all surprised if the piercings extended to other parts of the man’s body too. He wore a scruffy army-green parka with a sweat shirt underneath, loose tracksuit bottoms and trainers.
‘It’s my dad,’ Poppy said as Kit levelled with them.
