The Seafront Tearoom Page 18

  Diane, Jake’s mother, opened the door. “Kat,” she said. There were lines on her forehead and her usual smile was absent.

  “I’m sorry to turn up unannounced.”

  “No, I’m glad you’re here. Please, come in.”

  “Is Leo here?” she asked. She listened out but couldn’t hear anyone in the house. Panic rose in her. “He is here, isn’t he?” she said quickly.

  “Yes,” Diane said. “Don’t worry, he’s in the other room. Leo!”

  They went through into the living room, where Leo was sitting on a playmat in the middle of the floor, a network of train tracks surrounding him, and Kat put her hand to her heart and smiled, full of relief at seeing him again.

  “Mummy!” he said, jumping to his feet and running over to her.

  She opened her arms and embraced him, bringing his small body into the warmth and protection of her own. She breathed in the smell of his hair and pressed her face against the blond strands. The skin of his shoulder and neck, where his T-shirt had stretched in the hug, was impossibly soft. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks and trembled on the sill of her upper lip. She squeezed him, then realized how tight she was holding him and loosened her grip. She didn’t want him to know how worried she’d been. She owed it to him to make life as normal as possible.

  She let him go, and as he stood back, she looked at him standing in front of her. “You’ve grown. Again!” She laughed. “How on earth am I expected to keep up?”

  “I missed you, Mummy,” Leo said.

  She ran a hand over his cheek. Words couldn’t describe how it felt now they were back together. She pressed him tightly to her.

  “I’m going to show you something Grandma got me,” Leo said, pulling away.

  Diane leaned forward and whispered to Kat. “We need to talk. It’s about Jake. He’s gone.”

  Diane and Kat were sitting on the sofa in the living room. Sun streamed in through the bay window and dappled the red Persian rug. Leo was upstairs with his grandfather Andy. He’d bounded upstairs, saying they needed to introduce his stegosaurus to his new dinosaurs. Kat was relieved that she’d have a moment to talk to Diane openly.

  “I’m so sorry about what’s happened,” Diane said. Her hands were in her lap, and she was twisting her wedding ring nervously. “We don’t know what’s come over him.”

  “So it’s not true, what he told me about you supporting him?”

  “No, no . . . not remotely. He started talking about wanting custody the other day, out of the blue, and we’ve both been doing all we can to talk him out of it. We wouldn’t want Leo to be put through that ordeal any more than you would. Besides, we know you’re doing a wonderful job bringing him up—you only need to look at him to see that.”

  The relief Kat felt at hearing Diane’s words was overwhelming. “That means a lot to me. I was really worried that you were on his side with all this.”

  “No, love,” Diane said, shaking her head. “We wouldn’t do that to you.”

  Kat’s relief was short-lived, as the gravity of the situation came back to her. Jake, her son’s father, was still missing. “So you say he left last night?”

  “I went into his room this morning and his bed hadn’t been slept in. He disappeared without leaving a note, or anything,” Diane said, shaking her head. “Given his state of mind, we’re quite worried.”

  “He did seem upset when we talked on the phone. He spoke about us getting back together, but after everything—” Seeing the hurt in Diane’s eyes, Kat stopped herself. “I mean, we made our decision.”

  “Of course. And there’s no point confusing Leo by trying to repair things only to break up again.”

  “Do you have any idea where he might be? Have you asked his friends?”

  Diane nodded. “No one’s seen him.”

  “And the police?”

  “It’s too early for that.”

  Leo’s voice, chattering away to his granddad, could be heard on the stairs, and Kat turned instinctively in the direction of it.

  “Could we stay here tonight, the two of us?” Kat asked.

  “Of course, Kat,” Diane said.

  “I don’t want to go until we’ve found Jake. I can’t leave with things like this.”

  30

  Sunday, September 28

  “I found a note on the mat for you, Auntie Charlie,” Flo said cheerfully. “I know it’s for you. It has your name on it.” She passed the white envelope over to Charlie in the kitchen.

  Charlie looked up from the pile of laundry she was sorting and took it from her, studying the handwriting on the front, no address, just her name. It must have been hand-delivered. “How strange. Thanks.” She’d been thinking about Kat—she’d called that morning to say that Leo was fine, but that his dad had now been missing for two nights. She’d sounded stressed, and Charlie wished that there was something more she could do to help, but Kat insisted that having her there on the end of a phone was what she needed.

  Charlie opened the envelope, pulled the paper out and unfolded it.

  “Mummy, Charlie’s got a letter!” Flo called out behind her.

  “What does it say?” Flo said, peering past her aunt’s shoulder.

  Charlie’s gaze dropped to the signature at the bottom.

  Pippa peered around the door, carrying Gracie in one arm and holding Jacob’s hand in the other. “A letter?” She smiled. “What is this, the nineteenth century? Who’s it from?”

  “It’s nothing,” Charlie replied quickly.

  “You’re blushing!” Pippa teased.

  “God, you lot are terrible,” Charlie said, pouting. “I’ll be upstairs if anyone needs me.”

  She went up to the bathroom and shut the door behind her, relishing the moment of silence. She sat down on the edge of the bath and unfolded the note.

  HI CHARLIE

  IT WAS GOOD TO SEE YOU ON FRIDAY. ARE YOU FREE THIS AFTERNOON? MEET ME BY THE BOATS IN PEASHOLM PARK AT 3 P.M.

  EUAN

  She smiled in spite of herself. He wanted to see her again.

  Hey,” Euan said, as Charlie arrived to meet him that afternoon. The lake and park were calm and quiet, with only a couple of boats out on the water.

  “Hi,” Charlie said. “I got your note.”

  “I guessed that,” he said, smiling. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “I had a bit of spare time,” Charlie said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  There was no need to mention the whirlwind she’d created getting everything sorted at Pippa’s so she could leave in time to meet him. As she’d gotten ready to go out she’d felt a steady build of excitement at the prospect of seeing him again. After the jog, and breakfast at his on Friday, she’d found she couldn’t get him out of her head.

  She was starting to wonder if maybe something could happen between them—that perhaps she could start to let go.

  “I thought we could work as a team this time,” Euan said, passing a ticket to the man handling the boats and pedalos. “Which is of course my way of saying that I don’t want to lose to you again after what happened at the lighthouse.”

  He got into a rowing boat and held his hand out for her to join him. She took it and climbed in beside him. As their skin touched, Charlie felt a rush. She wanted to be closer to him.

  “Water isn’t exactly my natural environment,” she said lightly. “You would have stood a good chance of winning.”

  They rowed together, sunlight flickering on the water on the crisp autumn day. “It’s lovely out here.”

  “Isn’t it?” Euan said. “It’s meant to be relaxing, by the way. You don’t need to put yourself out with the rowing, we’ll end up going round in circles,” he laughed.

  “Oh,” Charlie said, easing her grip on the oar. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

  As they drifted past
the island, Charlie looked up at the large Japanese pagoda.

  “Let’s go over there,” Euan said, pointing toward a part of the island that was thicker with trees, and where the shrubs extended over the water.

  The wooden boat butted against the side of the island. “Why do I get the feeling you’re taking me somewhere we shouldn’t be going?” Charlie said.

  He tied the boat to a branch and gave her his hand to help her out.

  “It’ll be fine,” he said. “Trust me.”

  He led her by the hand to a small clearing, hidden completely from the rest of the park. A picnic blanket was laid out, with a bottle of champagne and a hamper beside it.

  “Did you do all this?” Charlie said, turning to him in amazement.

  He shrugged. “Come and sit down.”

  She sat on the blanket and he opened the bottle of champagne and poured them both a glass.

  “I know you’re leaving soon,” he said. “But while you’re here I want to make the most of our time together. As friends, if that’s what you want.”

  “As friends?” Charlie said innocently.

  “Sure,” he said.

  She sipped from the glass of champagne, and looked him directly in the eye. Then she spoke.

  “It’s just . . . being friends seems a waste of all this, don’t you think?”

  The corners of his mouth lifted. Charlie smiled, then touched his arm and kissed him gently. There in the clearing, with the warmth of his skin and the tenderness in his kiss, she gave in completely, her doubts fading away.

  31

  Sunday, September 28

  Séraphine closed the textbooks she had been using to teach Zoe and slid them across the table toward her. “So, we’re finished for today. Your pronunciation is coming along so well, Zoe. I’m impressed.”

  “Merci,” Zoe said playfully. “Thank you.”

  These days, Séraphine looked forward to her time with Zoe. It wasn’t always easy, and there were times when Zoe was reluctant to learn, but when that light went on and Zoe embraced the class it made everything worthwhile.

  “One more thing,” Séraphine said. “Do you have the homework I set you?”

  Séraphine readied herself for the excuse, but instead Zoe produced a neatly typed printout. “Here you go.”

  Séraphine took it from her with a smile. “How did you find it? Easy?”

  “I had to use a dictionary for some of the words, so I’m not sure they’re right.”

  “That’s fine, that’s part of learning,” Séraphine reassured her.

  “I guess I didn’t find it that easy, but not because of the French.”

  “Why then?” Séraphine asked.

  “Because it’s about something close to my heart.”

  That evening, Séraphine climbed into bed in her pajamas and Skyped Carla.

  “Salut!” Carla said. Her dark hair was bundled into a topknot and she wore a white T-shirt, her face makeup-free apart from a little mascara.

  Séraphine brightened immediately. “Hello,” she said. “How are things?”

  “Good,” Carla said. “Better for seeing you. It’s been a long week. I’m still not used to the early mornings.”

  “What’s new in the bakery this week?”

  “I tried the scone recipe you sent me, and made some strawberry jam to go with them. They are going down well. One or two grumbles about us not having as many pains au chocolat as usual, but for the most part I think our English Week has been a success.”

  “I’ll tell Letty,” Séraphine said. “She’ll be happy to hear that.”

  “It seems you have found some good friends over there,” Carla said warmly.

  “Yes, I have,” Séraphine replied, reflecting on what it had meant to her to meet Charlie, Kat and Letty. “I’ve been lucky.”

  “And how are the plans for the party going?”

  “It’s coming together nicely. We’ve got most things organized—and plenty of cake.”

  “I wish I could be there,” Carla sighed.

  “I wish you could too. In fact I wish you could be here all the time.” Séraphine smiled.

  “Not long now,” Carla said.

  “Just over a month,” Séraphine said. “So soon.”

  “You won’t forget to come home?”

  “Never.”

  They wished each other good night and Séraphine made herself end the call. She missed Carla even more now.

  She switched off her computer and brought the duvet up around her.

  Before she went to sleep, she took out Zoe’s homework. It was a creative writing task that she’d set: “Imagine you are an animal. Which one are you? What do you usually do in a day?”

  I am a horse.

  When I’m at home, my owner cares for me, brushes me gently with the horse brush and looks at me lovingly. She helps me if I have a stone in my hoof, or when the flies gather round my eyes. It’s annoying when they do that. She strokes me gently.

  Then we go out. I can feel the wind in my mane as I race through the countryside. It is just me and the fields, the grass under my hooves—I am completely free. I want to run and run. My owner is riding me. I trust her to guide me. We are a team.

  This is where I have lived since I was a foal. Fields of green and lots of sunflowers. Little houses scattered around, other horses nearby. It’s a beautiful country.

  Séraphine touched the page. “Oh, Zoe,” she whispered to herself. She remembered the girl she’d met when she first arrived—the unhappy girl who hated France, swore she would never go there, and disliked Séraphine on sight. It had seemed that, for Zoe, everything about the country she’d grown up in was tied to the tragedy of her mother’s death. At the time, Séraphine had wondered if that would ever change. Now, she had a glimmer of hope that it could.

  32

  Monday, September 29

  Still no sign of Jake, Kat texted Charlie. Three nights now. We’ve called the police, rung round his friends and the hospitals. Fingers crossed he’ll come back today. Kx

  She put down her phone. Since Saturday she, Diane and Andy had been looking for Jake, trawling the local cafés and his friends’ houses, pretending to Leo that it was all a game of hide-and-seek. That had been Andy’s idea—it distracted Leo from asking questions, but sat uneasily with Kat. After all, what would they tell him if, in the end, his dad couldn’t be found? She felt sick to the pit of her stomach thinking about it.

  She went into the kitchen, where Leo was having breakfast with his grandparents. Their smiles were in place, laughing and playing with him, but Kat could see the worry lines etched on their faces. Jake had never been the most reliable person—he’d come home late without warning, and forget meetings and appointments, even important ones. But this—going missing for three nights—he’d never done anything like this before.

  “How about a banana?” Diane said, offering one to Leo. His eyes lit up and he reached for it. Andy smiled at his delight. In spite of the circumstances, Kat could see the joy that their grandson brought to Diane and Andy’s lives, and was grateful for their support. She shouldn’t have doubted them. Jake had always had a way of making her believe what he said, even when she should know better.

  She nursed the cup of tea that she’d left on the table when she went to text Charlie. It was warm enough still to offer a little comfort. She looked at Leo, merrily eating and chattering. Something had to change today; they couldn’t all go on waiting. The police knew about Jake, but nothing seemed to be moving very fast there.

  Kat thought back to the days that she and Jake had spent in the city, when she was a student—she’d revisited most of their regular haunts on Saturday; some had changed, some stayed the same, but Jake hadn’t been in any of them. His friends had agreed to keep a lookout and stay in touch with the staff in case things changed. Those places were wh
ere she had happy memories of being with Jake, and they’d come to her first. But what about the times when they’d argued? She realized she’d filtered those moments out, not wanting to revisit them. She forced herself to do it now. When she was upset, she’d gone to her room, lost herself in a book and tried to ease the pain that way. But Jake had always gone out. Always. It came back to her in a flash.

  “You’re OK to mind Leo, aren’t you?” Kat said. “I need to go out for a while.”

  “Yes,” Andy said. He had a trace of hope in his eyes, as if he understood. “Don’t forget your coat, and there’s a scarf on the coatrack you can borrow. It’s chilly out today.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kat left the house, her pace speeding up as she neared Arthur’s Seat, the hill that overlooked the city. The cold wind stung her cheeks. It didn’t make sense that anyone would choose to sleep outside in the cold weather—but it had to be worth a try. She climbed the hill and saw the bench in the distance. How had she forgotten it? Time after time it was where she’d found him. Repentant, usually, but occasionally still angry. With the architecture of Edinburgh laid out in front of them, they’d talked, and kissed, and made up, found their way back together more than a dozen times.

  Two days of searching and it hadn’t crossed her mind until now. She neared it, and could make out a figure slumped forward, head in hands. It was Jake. Her breath caught. She had found him.

  Kat approached the bench quietly and sat down next to him. He seemed to sense her presence. He didn’t look up, but he looked across at her denim-clad legs, and down at her brown leather boots, familiar to him.

  “Kat,” he said, without looking up.

  “Hi.”

  She saw that his shoulders were shaking and there was the sound of quiet sobbing. Instinctively, she put an arm around him.

  He burrowed his head in her shoulder, just as his son did whenever he was in need of comfort. Kat held him. The anger and frustration that had been building in her since their phone call was still there, but at the same time she felt sorry for him.