BRUCE HORNSBY AND THE RANGE

PROLOGUE

‘Honestly, Mrs Hadley,’ said Meggie McGregor, wiping her eyes. ‘That sense of humour of yours will be the death of me yet!’

Jasmine Hadley allowed herself a rare giggle. ‘The things I tell you, Meggie. It’s lucky we’re such good friends!’

Meggie’s smile wavered only slightly. She looked out across the vast lawn at Callum and Sephy. Her son and her employer’s daughter. They were good friends playing together. Real good friends. No barriers. No boundaries. Not yet anyway. It was a typical early summer’s day, light and bright and, in the Hadley household anyway, not a cloud in their sky.

‘Excuse me, Mrs Hadley.’ Sarah Pike, Mrs Hadley’s secretary, approached from the house. She had shoulder-length straw-coloured hair and timid green eyes which appeared permanently startled. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you but your husband has just arrived. He’s in the study.’

‘Kamal is here?’ Mrs Hadley was astounded. ‘Thank you, Sarah.’ She turned to Meggie. ‘His fourth visit home in as many months! We’re honoured!’

Meggie smiled sympathetically, making sure to keep her mouth well and truly shut. No way was she going to get in the middle of another inevitable squabble between Kamal Hadley and his wife. Mrs Hadley stood up and made her way into the house.

‘So, Sarah, how is Mr Hadley?’ Meggie lowered her voice to ask. ‘Is he in a good mood, d’you think?’

Sarah shook her head. ‘He looks about ready to blow a fuse.’

‘Why?’

‘No idea.’

Meggie digested this news in silence.

‘I’d better get back to work,’ Sarah sighed.

‘Would you like something to drink?’ Meggie pointed to the jug of ginger beer on the patio table.

‘No, thanks. I don’t want to get into trouble . . .’ With obvious trepidation, Sarah went back into the house.

What was she afraid of? Meggie sighed. No matter how hard she tried, Sarah insisted on keeping her distance. Meggie turned back to watch the children. Life was so simple for them. Their biggest worry was what they’d get for their birthdays. Their biggest grumble was the time they had to go to bed. Maybe things would be different for them . . . Better. Meggie forced herself to believe that things would be better for the children, otherwise what was the point of it all?

On those rare occasions when she had a moment to herself, she couldn’t help but play ‘what if’ games. Not the big ‘what if’s that her husband sometimes liked to indulge in, like, ‘What if a virus wiped out every single Cross and not a single nought?’ or ‘What if there was a revolution and all the Crosses were overthrown? Killed. Wiped off the face of the planet.’ No, Meggie McGregor didn’t believe in wasting her time on big, global fantasies. Her dreams were more specific, more unattainable than that. Her dreams were all around one subject. What if Callum and Sephy . . .? What if Sephy and Callum . . .?

Meggie felt a peculiar, burning sensation on the back of her neck. She turned to find Mr Hadley standing on the patio, watching her with the strangest expression on his face.

‘Is everything all right, Mr Hadley?’

‘No. But I’ll survive.’ Mr Hadley moved forward to the patio table to stand over Meggie. ‘You were deep in thought there. Penny for them?’

Flustered by his presence, Meggie began, ‘I was just thinking about my son and your daughter. Wouldn’t it be nice if…?’ Appalled, she bit back the rest of the sentence, but it was too late.

‘What would be nice?’ Mr Hadley prompted, silkily.

‘If they could . . . could always stay as they are now.’ At Mr Hadley’s raised eyebrows, Meggie rushed on. ‘At this age, I mean. They’re so wonderful at this age – children, I mean. So . . . so . . .’

‘Yes, indeed.’

Pause.

Kamal Hadley sat down. Mrs Hadley emerged from the kitchen to lean against the door frame. She had a strange, wary expression on her face. Meggie felt nervous. She started to get to her feet.

‘I understand you had a wonderful time yesterday.’ Mr Hadley smiled at Meggie.

‘A . . . a wonderful time?’

‘Yesterday evening?’ Mr Hadley prompted.

‘Yes. It was quite quiet really . . .’ Meggie replied, confused. She looked from Mr to Mrs Hadley and back again. Mrs Hadley was watching her intently. What was going on? The temperature in the garden had dropped by several degrees and despite his smiles, Mr Hadley was obviously furious at something – or someone. Meggie swallowed hard. Had she done something wrong? She didn’t think so, but God only knew that being around Crosses was like walking on eggshells.

‘So what did you do?’ Mr Hadley prompted.

‘P-pardon?’

‘Last night?’ Mr Hadley’s smile was very friendly. Too friendly.

‘I . . . we stayed home and watched telly,’ Meggie said slowly.

‘It’s nice to have a relaxing evening at home with your own family,’ Mr Hadley agreed.

Meggie nodded. What did he expect her to say to that? What was going on? Mr Hadley stood up, his smile now a thing of the past. He walked over to his wife. They both stood just watching each other as the seconds ticked by. Mrs Hadley began to straighten up. Without warning, Mr Hadley slapped his wife full across the face. The force of the blow sent Mrs Hadley’s head snapping backwards to strike against the door frame.

Meggie was on her feet in a second, her horrified gasp audible, her hand out in silent protest. Kamal Hadley gave his wife a look of such contempt and loathing that Mrs Hadley flinched back from it. Without a word passing between them, Mr Hadley went back into the house. Meggie was at Mrs Hadley’s side in an instant.

‘Are you OK?’ Meggie’s hand went out to examine the side of Mrs Hadley’s face.

Mrs Hadley knocked her hand away. With a puzzled frown, Meggie tried again. The same thing happened.

‘Leave me alone,’ Mrs Hadley hissed at her. ‘When I needed your help, you didn’t give it.’

‘I . . . what…?’ And only then did Meggie realize what she’d done. Mrs Hadley had obviously used Meggie as an alibi for the previous night and Meggie had been too slow to pick up on what Kamal Hadley had really been asking her.

Meggie’s hand dropped back to her side. ‘I think I should get back to work . . .’

‘Yes, I think that would be best.’ Mrs Hadley’s look was venomous before she turned and walked back into the house.

Meggie turned around. Callum and Sephy were still playing at the other end of the vast garden, oblivious to everything that had just happened. She stood and watched them, trying to capture for herself some small part of their pure joy in each other. She needed something good to hold on to. But even the distant sound of their laughter couldn’t dampen down the deep sense of foreboding creeping through her. What would happen now?

That night, Meggie sat at the table sewing patches over the patches in Jude’s school trousers.

‘Meggie, I’m sure you’re worrying about nothing,’ Ryan, her husband sighed.

‘Ryan, you didn’t see the look on her face. I did.’ Meggie bit off the thread and picked up another patch. Jude’s school trousers were more patch than original material.

The phone started to ring. Meggie picked it up before the first ring had even died away.

‘Hello?’

‘Meggie McGregor?’

‘That’s right.’ Meggie’s sewing fell unheeded to her feet.

‘It’s Sarah Pike here . . .’

Meggie couldn’t help but notice the apology already in her voice. ‘How are you, Sarah?’

‘Fine, er . . . OK. Look, I’ve got some bad news . . .’

Meggie nodded slowly. ‘I’m listening.’

Sarah gave an embarrassed cough before she continued. ‘Mrs Hadley has asked me to inform you that . . . that your services at the Hadley household will no longer be required. She will pay you four weeks’ wages in lieu of proper notice, plus give you a good reference.’

Meggie’s blood turned to ice water in her veins. Whatever else she’d been expecting, it wasn’t this. Heaven only knew it wasn’t this.

‘She’s . . . she’s really sacking me?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I see.’

‘I’m really sorry,’ Sarah’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Between you and me, I think it’s grossly unfair.’

From one nought to another . . .

‘It’s OK, Sarah. It’s not your fault,’ Meggie replied.

She looked across at Ryan. His expression grew harder and tighter by degrees. Let him get upset. Let him be angry. All she could feel was . . . nothing. A nothing that went way beyond the numbness enveloping every part of her body.

‘Sorry, Meggie,’ Sarah said again.

‘That’s OK. Thanks for letting me know. Bye, Sarah.’

‘Bye.’

Meggie put down the phone. The clock on the TV counted out the silent moments that passed. ‘That’s the end of Jude’s education,’ she sighed at last.

‘But we promised him we’d pay for him to carry on at school,’ Ryan said, aghast.

‘Pay with what?’ Meggie rounded on her husband. ‘The leaves off the trees? The hairs off our legs? What?’

‘We’ll find a way . . .’

‘How? We’re barely managing to survive as it was. What will we do without my wages coming in? Jude will have to forget about school. He’ll have to go out to work.’

‘You’ll get another job,’ Ryan tried.

‘Not with another Cross family I won’t. D’you really think Mrs Hadley will stand idly by whilst I get another job with one of her friends?’

There was dawning horror on Ryan’s face as he realized what his wife meant.

‘Yes, exactly,’ Meggie sighed.

She stood up and moved to sit next to her husband on the old sofa in front of the fire. Ryan put his arm around her. They sat in silence for a long, long time.

‘Ryan, we’re in trouble,’ Meggie said at last.

‘I know,’ Ryan replied.

Meggie jumped to her feet, her expression hard and determined. ‘I’m going to see her.’

‘What’re you talking about?’ Ryan frowned.

‘I’ve worked for that woman for fourteen years, ever since she was pregnant with her daughter Minerva. Seeing me is the very least she can do.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea . . .’ Ryan’s frown deepened.

‘Ryan, I need to get my job back. And if I have to beg, then so be it,’ Meggie insisted, pulling on her coat. Her expression was now so hard, it might’ve been carved in granite.

‘No, Meggie . . .’

‘I don’t like it any more than you do, but we have no choice.’ Meggie didn’t wait for any further argument. She headed out of the door.

Ryan watched his wife leave the house. No good would come of this. He could feel it.

Two hours later, Meggie was back.

And that was the night that Lynette disappeared . . .

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 646