Finding Grace(59)

‘Oh God!’ I sob into my hands. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about Bev.’

He reaches for my hand.

‘I would’ve told you, Luce. I swear to God, I was going to tell you everything. When it had all been sorted. But then… I just couldn’t put that pressure on you.’

I thought I’d been successful in keeping the past from Blake and from everyone else but it clearly hasn’t worked. They might not know the details of what happened back then but they’re aware I’m damaged. It’s been painfully obvious since Grace went missing they all feel obliged to protect my fragile mental state.

It must have been difficult for my family and my friends for all these years, protecting me from something they know nothing about.

A thought stirs me up again.

‘But you let Oscar go over there, stay with Dad when he could clearly have been in danger!’

‘Lucie, stop! Not now. I can’t face all this on top of what we have to deal with.’

‘You might have to face it! What if those people had something to do with Grace going missing?’

‘They had no need to take her, Lucie. They knew your dad fully intended paying them this week.’

I love Dad with all my heart, but he’s put my husband and best friend in a terrible position, and my son, and possibly my daughter, in danger.

Is there no one I can trust any more?

Downstairs, the front door opens, and I hear Fiona speaking to someone. Next minute, she calls upstairs.

‘Blake, could you come here for a moment, please?’

He listens for a moment – his hearing has always been better than mine – and his expression changes. Without another word, he bounds downstairs.

There are low voices speaking and I can’t discern the detail. Then I hear Blake say, ‘Is this about Grace? Have you got any more information?’

I stand on the landing, listening to a woman responding. She is clearly struggling to keep calm. Initially she speaks in low murmur but within the space of a few seconds, she ramps up the volume.

‘No! I don’t want to speak to you, I want to speak to your wife. There are things she needs to know.’

My eyes widen in alarm but my feet seem rooted to the spot. I know that voice but I can’t place it.

‘My wife isn’t feeling well and I don’t want you causing trouble again, thank you.’ There’s a pregnant pause and then Blake speaks again, his tone firmer. ‘Fiona, I’d like this lady to leave, please.’

I scuttle out of the bedroom but a moment later, the door slams and I hear Blake and Fiona talking in the hallway.

I run downstairs and Blake appears before I reach the bottom step.

He holds his hand up in a stop sign. ‘Nothing for you to worry about, Lucie,’ he says. ‘Just Barbara Charterhouse trying to cause problems again.’

Fiona hovers in the kitchen doorway behind him. It feels like the two of them are in cahoots.

‘What did she want?’ I demand. ‘Why didn’t you let her speak to me?’

‘After what happened at the café?’ Blake bites the inside of his top lip. ‘Not bloody likely. That woman is a trouble maker, pure and simple. Everybody around here says the same.’

I glare at Fiona. ‘But what if she knows something about Grace’s disappearance? You shouldn’t have just sent her away like that.’

I look at my husband, as he’s the one who told Fiona to ask her to leave, but he seems distracted, chewing on his thumbnail.

‘She’s been interviewed at length, Lucie. The detectives would have got every last scrap of detail about Grace’s sighting,’ Fiona says gently. She hesitates, as though she’s in two minds whether to carry on. ‘By the sounds of it, her visit here wasn’t connected to Grace.’ Her eyes search my face. ‘It sounds as if it was something concerning you she wanted to speak about.’





Forty-Two





Sixteen years earlier





After Stefan left, Lucie sat on the bed. She guessed most people on her landing would be attending early lectures now and her room felt silent and cold.

The thoughts ricocheted around her head as she tried to make sense of Stefan’s urgent departure.

Who was the panicky woman who’d spurred him into action? Lucie had watched as his expression changed; she’d seen a malicious focus settle over his features and it had unnerved her.

He’d never been aggressive with her and had been a considerate lover last night. But she had noticed people in the friendship group often treading on eggshells around him. There were occasions where others had seemed distinctly uncomfortable in his presence, as if they were unsure or nervous of his reaction.

She wanted to believe he really cared about her, but there was something she couldn’t put her finger on, like an invisible barrier that prevented her from knowing all of him.

She shivered and her eyes searched around for her robe. They alighted on a small, grey bundle beside her single bedside cabinet.

Stefan’s rucksack.

She glanced at the door. He’d been so focused on getting away to sort out whatever problem had come up, he’d probably not notice it was missing until much later. The latch was down and the door was locked.

It was the first time, since she’d known him, that the little grey rucksack had not been on his person. His phone always went into his pocket. What could be in there that he couldn’t bear to be parted from, she wondered. She’d never seen him put anything in there or take anything out!