Читать книгу Almost Lost - Блейк Пирс - Страница 8

Cassie had expected to sleep well in her cozy room with the only sound the wash of surf outside. She was sure she would have, if it hadn’t been for that disconcerting message, sent from an unknown number while she had been sitting out on the verandah with Ryan.

Her first panicked thought was that it concerned her ex-employer’s murder trial; that somehow she’d been implicated and people were hunting for her. She tried to check the latest news, but found to her frustration that Ryan had turned the Wi-Fi off already.

She tossed and turned, worrying about what it could mean and who had sent it, trying to reassure herself that it was probably a wrong number and had been meant for somebody else.

*

After a restless night, she managed to drift into an uneasy sleep, and was woken by the sound of her alarm. She grabbed her phone and found to her relief that the signal was back.

Before she got out of bed, she searched for news on the trial.

Cassie learned that a postponement had been requested and it was due to resume in two weeks. Researching more carefully, she discovered this was because the defense team needed more time to contact additional witnesses.

That made her feel sick with fear.

She looked again at the strange message, “Be careful,” wondering if she should reply to it and ask what it meant, but sometime during the night the sender must have blocked her because she found she couldn’t send a message back.

In desperation, she tried to call the number.

It cut off immediately. Her calls had clearly been blocked, too.

Cassie sighed in frustration. Cutting off communication felt more like harassment than a genuine warning. She was going to go with it being a wrong number, which the sender had realized too late and blocked her as a result.

Feeling marginally comforted, she got out of bed and went to wake the children.

Dylan was already up—Cassie guessed he must have gone cycling. Hoping he wouldn’t think it an intrusion, she went in, straightened up his duvet and pillows, and collected his discarded clothes.

His shelves were crammed with a huge variety of books, including quite a few on cycling. Two goldfish swam in a tank on top of the bookcase, and on a big table near the window was a rabbit hutch. A gray rabbit was eating a breakfast of lettuce and Cassie watched it happily for a minute.

Leaving his room, she tapped on Madison’s door.

“Give me ten minutes,” the young girl replied sleepily, so Cassie headed for the kitchen to get a start on breakfast.

There, she saw that Ryan had left a wad of money under the salt shaker with a handwritten note, “I’ve gone to work. Take the kids out and have fun! I’ll be back this evening.”

Cassie put a round of bread in the pretty floral toaster and filled the kettle. As she was busy making coffee, Madison walked in, wrapped in a pink robe and yawning.

“Good morning,” Cassie greeted her.

“Morning. I’m glad you’re here. Everyone else in this house gets up so early,” she complained.

“Can I get you coffee? Tea? Juice?”

“Tea, please.”

“Toast?”

Madison shook her head. “I’m not hungry yet, thanks.”

“What would you like to do today? Your dad told us to go out somewhere,” Cassie said, pouring tea as Madison requested it, with a splash of milk and no sugar.

“Let’s go into town,” Madison said. It’s fun on the weekend. There’s lots to do.”

“Good idea. Do you know when Dylan will be back?”

“He usually goes for an hour.” Madison cupped her hands around her mug and blew onto the steamy liquid.

Cassie was impressed by how independent the children seemed to be. Clearly, they were not used to being overprotected. She guessed the village was small and safe enough for them to treat it as an extension of their home.

Dylan arrived back soon afterward, and by nine they were dressed and ready to depart on their outing. Cassie assumed they’d take the car, but Dylan warned her against it.

“It’s difficult to find parking on the weekend. We usually walk down—it’s only a mile and a half—and take the bus back. It runs every two hours so you just have to time it right.”

The walk down to the village could not have been more scenic. Cassie was charmed by the shifting views of the sea and the picturesque houses along the way. From somewhere in the distance she could hear church bells. The air was fresh and cool, and breathing in the smell of the sea was pure pleasure.

Madison skipped ahead, pointing out the houses of people she knew, which seemed to be almost everybody.

A few of the people driving past waved at them, and one woman stopped her Range Rover to offer them a ride.

“No thanks, Mrs. O’Donoghue, we’re happy walking,” Madison called. “We might need you on the way back though!”

“I’ll look out for you!” the woman promised with a smile before pulling away. Madison explained that the woman and her husband lived further inland and ran a small organic farm.

“There’s a shop selling their produce in town, and they sometimes have homemade fudge, too,” Madison said.

“We’ll definitely go there,” Cassie promised.

“Her kids are lucky. They go to boarding school in Cornwall. I wish I could do that,” Madison said.

Cassie frowned, wondering why Madison would want to spend any time away from such a perfect life. Unless, perhaps, the divorce had left her feeling insecure and she wanted a bigger community around her.

“Are you happy at your current school?” she asked, just in case.

“Oh, yes, it’s great apart from that I have to study,” Madison said.

Cassie was relieved that there didn’t seem to be a hidden problem, such as bullying.

The shops were as quaint as she’d hoped. There were a few stores selling fishing tackle, warm clothing, and sports gear. Remembering her hands had been cold while drinking with Ryan the previous night, Cassie tried on a beautiful pair of gloves, but decided in view of her finances and her lack of available money, it would be better to wait and buy a cheaper pair.

The smell of baking bread drew them across the road to a cake shop. After some discussion with the children, she bought a sourdough loaf and a pecan pie to take home.

The only disappointment of the morning was the sweet shop.

When Madison marched expectantly up to the door she stopped, looking crestfallen.

The store was closed, with a handwritten note taped to the glass which read, “Dear Customers—we’re out of town this weekend for a family birthday! We’ll be back to serve you your favorite delicacies on Tuesday.”

Madison sighed sadly.

“Their daughter usually runs the shop when they’re away. I guess everyone went to this stupid party.”

“I guess so. Never mind. We can come back next week.”

“That’s so far away.” Head lowered, Madison turned away and Cassie bit her lip anxiously. She was desperate for this outing to be a success. She had been imagining how Ryan’s face would light up as they spoke about their happy day, and how he might look at her with gratitude, or even give her a compliment.

“We’ll come in next week,” she repeated, knowing that this was little consolation to a nine-year-old who’d believed peppermint candy sticks were in her immediate future.

“And we might find sweets in other shops,” she added.

“Come on, Maddie,” Dylan said impatiently, and took her hand, marching her away from the shop. Ahead, Cassie noticed the store that Madison had told her about, owned by the woman who’d offered them a ride.

“One last stop there, and then we decide where to have lunch,” she said.

Thinking of healthy suppers and snacks ahead, Cassie chose a few bags of chopped vegetables, a bag of pears, and some dried fruit.

“Can we buy chestnuts?” Madison asked. “They’re delicious roasted on the fire. We did that last winter, with my mum.”

It was the first time either of them had made mention of their mother and Cassie waited anxiously, watching Madison to see if the memory would cause her to become upset, or if this was a sign she wanted to talk about the divorce. To her relief, the young girl seemed calm.

“Of course we can. That’s a lovely idea.” Cassie added a bag to her basket.

“Look, there’s the fudge!”

Madison pointed excitedly and Cassie guessed the moment was over. But having mentioned her mother once, she had broken the ice and might want to talk more about it later. Cassie reminded herself to be responsive to any signals. She didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to help either of the children through this difficult time.

The bags were displayed on a counter near the till, together with other sweet treats. There were toffee apples, fudge, mint humbugs, small bags of Turkish delight, and even miniature candy sticks.

“What would you like, Dylan and Madison?” she asked.

“A toffee apple, please. And fudge, and one of those candy sticks,” Madison said.

“A toffee apple, two candy sticks, fudge, and Turkish delight,” Dylan added.

“I think maybe just two sweets each for you will be enough or it’ll spoil your lunch,” Cassie said, remembering that excessive sugary treats were discouraged in this family. She took two toffee apples and two packets of fudge from the display.

“Do you think your father would like anything?” She felt a rush of warmth inside her as she spoke about Ryan.

“He likes nuts,” Madison said, and pointed to a display of roasted cashews. “Those are his favorite.”

Cassie added a bag to her basket and headed for the till.

“Afternoon,” she greeted the shop assistant, a plump, blonde young lady with a name tag that read “Tina,” who smiled at her and greeted Madison by name.

“Hello, Madison. How’s your dad? Is he out of hospital yet?”

Cassie glanced in concern at Madison. Was this something she hadn’t been told about? But Madison was frowning, confused.

“He hasn’t been in hospital.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood. When he was last here, he said—” Tina began.

Madison interrupted her, staring at the cashier curiously as she rang up the purchases.

“You’ve got fat.”

Horrified by the tactlessness of this comment, Cassie felt her face going as crimson as Tina’s was doing.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled in apology.

“That’s all right,”

Cassie saw Tina looked crestfallen at the comment. What had gotten into Madison? Had she never been taught not to say such things? Was she too young to realize how hurtful those words were?

Perceiving that no more apologies would redeem the situation, she grabbed her change and hustled the young girl out of the shop before she could think of anything else tactless and personal to announce.

“It’s not polite to say things like that,” she explained, when they were out of earshot.

“Why?” Madison asked. “It’s the truth. She’s much fatter than when I saw her in the August holidays.”

“It’s always better not to say anything if you notice something like that, especially if other people are listening. She might have a—a glandular problem or be taking medication that makes her fat, like cortisone. Or she could be expecting a baby and not want anyone to know yet.”

She glanced at Dylan on her left, to see if he was listening, but he was rummaging in his pockets and seemed preoccupied.

Madison frowned as she thought this over.

“OK,” she said. “I’ll remember for next time.”

Cassie let out a deep breath of relief that her logic had been understood.

“Would you like a toffee apple?”

Cassie passed Madison her toffee apple, which she put into her pocket, and handed the other to Dylan. But when she gave it to him, he waved it away.

Looking at him in disbelief, Cassie saw he was unwrapping one of the candy sticks from the store they’d just visited.

“Dylan—” she began.

“Ah, no, I wanted one of those,” Madison complained.

“I got you one.” Dylan reached into the deep pocket of his coat and to Cassie’s horror, pulled out several more.

“Here,” he said, and passed her one.

“Dylan!” Cassie felt suddenly short of breath and her voice sounded high and stressed. Her mind was racing as she struggled to take in what had just happened. Had she misread the situation?

No. There was no way Dylan could have bought the candy. After Madison’s embarrassing comment, she’d hustled them straight out of the store. There hadn’t been time for Dylan to have paid, especially since the assistant hadn’t been very adept at working the old-fashioned till.

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at her inquiringly, and Cassie felt chilled by the fact that there was no trace of emotion in his pale blue eyes.

“I think—I think you might have forgotten to pay for that.”

“I didn’t pay,” he said casually.

Cassie stared at him, shocked beyond words.

Dylan had just coolly admitted to having shoplifted goods.

She’d never imagined that Ryan’s son would do such a thing. This was beyond the scope of her experience and she was at a loss to know how she should react. She felt shaken that her impression of a perfect family, which she’d believed in, was far from reality. How could she have been so wrong?

Ryan’s son had just committed a criminal act. Worse still, he was showing no remorse, no shame, nor even any sign that he understood the enormity of his action. He stared back at her calmly, seeming unconcerned by what he had done.