The Other People(46)
The door swung open. “Didn’t think you’d be this long,” Lou said, letting Katie step through.
“Sorry,” Katie said. “Something came up and I had to deal with it.”
“Mum?”
Katie hesitated and then said: “Actually, Fran.”
Lou stared at her. “Fran?”
Katie recounted as quickly as possible what had happened at their mum’s.
Lou’s eyebrows rose higher. “Fran has a daughter?”
“Well, that’s what Mum said.”
“I can’t believe she never told us. I never even understood why she took off to start with. I mean, we all loved Dad. It wasn’t as if she loved him more.”
“Maybe she had her reasons.”
“Maybe.”
Katie rubbed at her temples. She could feel a headache edging in. “Hopefully, she’ll turn up and the police will find the little girl.”
If there is a little girl, she thought.
“Anyway, I’d better get Sam and Gracie back home.”
They walked into the open-plan living room and kitchen. Sam was engrossed in his iPad, Grace and Mia were watching Gigglebiz.
“Hi, everyone,” Katie chirped as cheerily as she could manage. “Time to say goodbye to Auntie Lou.”
“I’ll just grab their stuff.” Lou darted back out into the hall.
Her sister was being unusually organized, Katie thought. She had also brushed her hair and applied a little makeup, she noticed. She wondered why. And then she spotted the jacket slung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs.
Lou reappeared, clutching Sam and Gracie’s bags and coats.
“Where is he?” Katie asked.
“Sorry, who?”
Lou was a terrible liar. She followed Katie’s gaze and her shoulders slumped, her face adopting its usual sulky look.
“I wasn’t supposed to pick your kids up today. I’d already made plans. I couldn’t just cancel. I was doing you a favor.”
Katie opened her mouth to argue but knew that, this time, she was on the back foot.
“You should have told me,” she said. “I just like to know.”
“Know what?”
They turned. Steve stood in the doorway, shirtless, skin glistening with water from the shower. He was muscular and stocky, with a shaven head and tattoos down one arm. As always, his manner was superficially pleasant, but there was something about him that Katie didn’t like. Or maybe it was because she knew the losers Lou normally picked and was always expecting the worst from him.
“Hi, Steve,” she said neutrally.
“All right, Katie.” He smiled, and Katie felt sure that he was enjoying her unease at his semi-naked appearance. He held out a shirt to Lou. “Could you be a darling and stick that in the wash with my jacket?”
“No problem.”
Lou took the shirt and then picked up the jacket from the chair. A high-visibility police officer’s jacket.
“Just off shift?” Katie asked.
“Yeah. Doing a bit of overtime. Got a couple of days off now, though.” Without taking his eyes from hers, he reached over and rubbed Lou’s backside. “Plan to spend it wisely.”
Katie smiled tightly. “Nice. Well, I should get going. Come on, Sam, Gracie. We need to go home. It’s getting late.”
* * *
—
SHE BUNDLED THEM into the car, distracting them with questions about their day, their friends, their lessons, what they had for lunch. All of which were generally greeted with the same responses: “Good.” “Okay.” “Can’t remember.” “I’ve forgotten.” “Can we watch TV when we get home?” “I’m hungry. Have you got any sweets?”
It wasn’t until they were halfway along the high street that Gracie asked, “Why were you late, Mummy?”
Katie smiled at her in the rearview mirror.
“Just bad traffic, sweetheart.”
Once home, she settled the pair of them in the living room and went to make them some bedtime snacks. As she poured milk and arranged biscuits on a plate, she thought about her mother again.
“She was here. Today.”
Okay, her mother had invented dramas before. Worked herself into histrionics, fueled by drink and paranoia. But something about this afternoon’s episode was troubling Katie. She had seemed so certain. And yet it was so implausible. Why would Fran come back after all this time? Did she really have a daughter? It was obvious what the young police officer who had responded to her call had thought.
“I’ll put out a call,” he had said as she walked him to the door. “See if we’ve had any reports of a little girl found wandering on her own. Better safe than sorry, eh?”
Better safe than sorry. Katie got the implication. I think your mother’s probably a nutjob, but I’ll ask a few questions to ease my conscience.
She had nodded. “I understand. Thank you.”
“And if you hear from your sister, could you let us know?”
“Of course.”
She had watched him climb into his car and drive away. From the kitchen she heard the clink of the wine bottle.
She couldn’t blame him, really. Part of her would like to dismiss the whole thing as a figment of her mother’s drunken imagination. But somehow, she couldn’t. And that raised questions: If Fran had come back, why go to their mother? They had never been close. And if she did have a daughter, why on earth would she leave her and disappear? And where was the little girl?