The Woman Next Door(76)

I am a little worried about the toilet issue. When we got to Exeter St David’s, I tried to persuade Amber to hold our seats while Bertie did a widdle but she created quite a fuss. I had to risk losing our seats and bring everything with us. As it was, Bertie was too overwhelmed by the noises and smells of the station to go.

We had just managed to get back onto the train as the whistle went and the doors locked. It was a very close thing. I am telling myself that Bertie is able to go all night without going to the toilet so, hopefully, my boy won’t let me down now.

I keep looking around at other families on the train and almost wishing I had some sort of iPad thing, just for this one time. It seems to be how most other parents are keeping their offspring occupied. A frazzled-looking woman across the way, who has a boisterous boy of about six (who Amber is fascinated by, naturally) and a tiny sleeping baby, gives me a sympathetic look now.

The boy is engrossed in something on her device, his eyes glassy and round, his bottom lip hanging open and shining. I don’t approve of using screens as babysitters for children but I can finally see the attraction of those things.

The woman blows her cheeks out and grins at me. It is a moment of parental camaraderie that pierces me with such happiness that I feel my eyes prickle with tears.

I hurriedly look away, blinking hard.

Thank you, I say inside my own head.

Amber starts to kick the seat with her heels, a rhythmic, metallic thumping sound that is instantly intolerable. A young man, who appears to be surgically attached to his laptop, glances up sharply and even the woman opposite frowns and looks a bit irritated.

‘Amber, darling, do please stop that,’ I say.

She continues, even harder. The little minx is really testing me now.

‘Amber! Stop that!’ I didn’t mean for it to come out quite as loud as it did, and she starts to cry.

I have no idea what to do. I can feel the disapproval of the carriage coming at me like gusts of stormy wind and my cheeks catch fire. In a minute we will be kicked off the train and then what will we do?

‘Would your granddaughter like to play with this?’

The woman across from us is leaning over and holding some sort of plastic toy in bright primary colours.

Amber is immediately distracted from her bad behaviour and snatches the toy from the woman’s hand.

‘Amber!’ I admonish. I am becoming quite exasperated.

But the woman just laughs and says, ‘It’s no problem. My sister’s little boy has Down’s and he likes things like this. It’s the baby’s, really, but if it helps, you’re welcome to play with it for a while.’

I could hug her.

‘Thank you so much,’ I say sincerely and she just smiles and turns back to her baby, who has woken up and is starting to grizzle.

The toy is some sort of caterpillar with various parts to it. Some are magnetic and some must be jammed together to stick. Amber’s little brow is fiercely scrunched as she concentrates on putting pieces together and then taking them apart again. The tiny pink tip of her tongue pokes out the side of her mouth and I am flooded with love once again.

Bertie is asleep at my feet and countryside is flashing by outside the window.

I am journeying to a new land. A new phase of my life. I don’t know what will even happen tomorrow. Maybe today will be all I have. So I make a decision there and then to try and relax and enjoy the journey.

I settle a little more comfortably into my seat and think about the moment when we scrunch our bare toes into golden sand. We will have fish and chips on the seafront tonight in St Ives.

And maybe an ice cream afterwards. I wonder if some of the same cafés will be there?

Contentment warms me through as the West Country pulls us deeper into its heart.





MELISSA


Melissa stares down at her mobile on the kitchen table and pictures herself calling the police. Her hands begin to tremble from the poisonous mix of hangover and shock.

What is Hester doing?

She gets up and begins to pace the kitchen, trying to tick off points in her head.

Is Amber in actual danger? No. Hester is nuts about children. She’d never harm one.

But it’s entirely possible she won’t come back. She will disappear off somewhere with the little girl and twist the logic so that it seems like entirely the right thing to do.

And then everything might come out in the open about Jamie.

Melissa begins to reach for the phone and then hesitates.

Maybe there is another way. Maybe Melissa can confront her, persuade her to hand Amber over. Then the police won’t have to be involved at all?

Melissa’s fingers are slick with sweat as she fumbles the laptop open and on and begins searching for flights to Cornwall. Driving isn’t an option. There is no time and, anyway, she is far too shaken up and hung-over to drive.

She and Mark had almost flown for that anniversary weekend, then decided that first class train travel would be more fun. But this will take half the time. Clicking onto the suggested airline’s website, she sees there is a flight leaving at 12.50 from Gatwick. It is 10 a.m. now. She might be able to get there for the early afternoon. She buys the ticket, leaving the return open, and prints off her boarding pass.

Melissa doesn’t know what she will do when she gets to Carbis Bay. Will she even find them? Her instincts tell her to curl up in a corner and stay out of this, but doing nothing is not an option.