Finding Grace(54)

Oh shit! She had completely forgotten about cancelling the call last night with her dad.

She reached for her phone to find the screen covered in missed call and text message notifications, every one of them from her father.





Thirty-Nine





Lucie





Monday morning





I feed Oscar and then Dad pulls his little coat on. ‘I might not be able to take him out for a walk with those wolves at the door’ – he nods at the press – ‘but we can get some fresh air in the back garden at least.’

I nod distractedly as Dad reaches for Oscar’s mittens.

‘Are you taking your medication, love?’ He gives me a long look. ‘Blake tells me you’re not so good.’

‘Is it any wonder?’ I stare at him. ‘My daughter’s still missing, so no, I’m not feeling on top of the world, Dad.’

‘I’m only worried about you, Lucie.’ He seems subdued, a little jumpy.

‘Are you OK?’

‘Don’t worry about me, I’m just a silly old fool who can sort himself out.’ He’s always struggled to accept concern from other people. ‘Focus on getting yourself straight.’

When Dad’s gone outside, I clear up Oscar’s lunch tray. Our kitchen is now the Family Liaison Officer’s HQ central, it seems. Of course, I can go in there any time I like, and sometimes I’m forced to. But under Fiona’s watchful gaze, I feel my anxiety ramping up twofold, so I avoid it when I can. Particularly after Bev brought around that note and photograph.

The last thing I need is them digging around in my past.

I can hear Fiona on the phone in there, but I can’t wait until she’s finished. I’m going to wrap up myself and have five minutes outside with Dad and Oscar. I could use a breath of fresh air.

In my old life, I used to make a weekly batch of fresh purees and freeze them in ice cube trays, rather than buy expensive and less healthy baby food from the supermarket. Or was that for Grace? When I try and think back to Oscar’s early months, they feel impenetrable, like cotton wool in my head.

I need to pull myself together and get my thoughts in order.

I pull open the freezer drawer and take out a tray, noting that my reserves are depleting fast. Fiona raises her hand by way of acknowledging me when I turn around then turns back to watch Dad and Oscar in the garden.

Jeffery is out there too – in our garden! When he sees me at the window he rushes up to the kitchen door. I open it an inch.

‘Lucie, can I possibly have a word? I’ve been watching the house and—’

‘You’ve been what?’ I look at Fiona aghast, but she is busy with her phone conversation.

‘I’ve been keeping an eye on everything,’ Jeffery babbles. ‘I need to speak to you about a possible new strand of investigation. There’s been a—’

‘Please stop watching us,’ I tell him, forcing myself not to be really rude. ‘Let the police do their job, Jeffery. You are not a detective, remember that.’

‘But—’

I close the door against his nonsense and go back to sorting out Oscar’s frozen food cubes, resolving to ask Blake to warn Jeffery off.

I look over at Fiona but she is still speaking in monosyllables to whoever is on the other end of the phone. Yes, no, right. Hmm. It’s obvious she’s trying not to give anything away to me regarding what the other person is saying.

I’m trying to juggle two ice cube trays when one crashes on to the worktop and slides over the counter to where Fiona is sitting.

Sorry, I mouth, stepping close to her to retrieve the tray. I reach across the worktop, and as I do so, I happen to glance down at the paperwork near my hand.

I see Blake’s name written there together with Bev’s and Mike’s, and she has drawn a circle around all three of them and applied a question mark at the side.

I snatch up the tray and don’t give any sign that I’ve seen her notes. I pop out three frozen cubes and stick them in a small dish for Oscar to have later, trying to focus on the task in hand and battling the sickly feeling that’s rising in my chest.

Blake, Bev and Mike… what is it with those three at the moment? The vibe has completely changed around them and I no longer feel it’s my imagination that I’m being kept in the dark about certain things. Trouble is, I haven’t got a clue what those things might be or how to even broach the subject.

Bev took the trouble to come over and show me the note and photograph she’d received. If she’s on my side, then why not mention if there’s something else happening behind the scenes? It was the perfect chance to confide in me… unless my friend has some kind of hidden agenda.

Fiona is still on her call and seems to be doing more listening than talking herself.

Blake is out again, canvassing the area for any information about Grace. His mother offered to come and sit with me and Oscar, apparently.

‘That would tip me over the edge,’ I told him, and to his credit, he agreed that having Nadine around wasn’t something I needed to put up with. ‘You could stay at home today and let me go out to speak to people,’ I added. ‘I feel so helpless, not doing anything towards finding Grace.’

‘It’s just that folks are far more likely to want to help if they see me in person,’ he explained. ‘Put Oscar down in his cot and take some time to try and nap.’