Eye of the Storm (17 page)

‘So what’s all this I hear about you running away from the police, Niamh?’ Agatha asked, as she led the way out of the terminal towards one of the nearby short-stay
multi-storey car parks. ‘What on earth possessed you? Surely Matthew brought you up to know better than that?’

‘Yes, he did,’ said Niamh, keeping her voice humble. ‘But I overheard the policemen who came to arrest him. They were talking as if Dad had murdered the boys and I know he
didn’t. I thought I could find Sam and Callum and prove Dad’s innocence.’

‘And what made you think you were any more qualified to do that than the police or the coastguard, dear?’ Agatha asked, her voice thick with condescension. ‘Honestly! You could
have been seriously hurt, or abducted, or . . . well, any number of horrible things might have happened to you. It doesn’t bear thinking about. Especially with your poor brother already
missing! And to steal a neighbour’s boat! I thought you were the sensible one. I couldn’t believe it when they told me. Now I want you to promise me that you won’t do anything
ridiculous like that while you’re staying with me. No madcap adventures, Niamh. Your father is worried enough about your brother and everything that’s happened since; he doesn’t
need a wayward daughter to contend with too.’

‘Yes, Aunt Aggie,’ Niamh mumbled, keeping her head down and her eyes straight ahead as they entered the steel box of the car-park lift. ‘I promise. How is Dad? Have you seen
him? Can I go and visit?’

‘I have seen him and I suppose he is as well as can be expected under the circumstances. The police are still holding him in custody while they question him. As far as I know,
they’ve not charged him with anything yet, but there’s no sign that they are ready to release him, and believe me, the prison where he’s being held is no place for a young lady,
Niamh.’

‘I don’t care if it’s suitable, Aunt Aggie. I just want to see that he’s all right.’

‘Well, we’ll see,’ she said. ‘Let’s get you settled in first and then maybe we can talk about it again.’ Her tone left Niamh in no doubt that what she
actually meant was, ‘Not over my dead body!’

‘Do you think they will charge him? He’s not done anything wrong. You know Dad. He wouldn’t hurt anyone and especially not Sam.’

‘I know. Perhaps you can tell the police that when they question you tomorrow.’

‘Me?’ Niamh squeaked. ‘Will I have to go into a police station?’

‘No. Nothing like that,’ Agatha reassured her. ‘They’re going to come to the house tomorrow. Don’t worry, Niamh. The detectives just want to hear your side of what
happened, that’s all.’

‘But what if they twist what I say and use it against Dad?’

‘Why would they want to do that?’

‘I don’t know, but I’ve seen them do things like that on TV sometimes.’

Agatha let out a bark of laughter and gave her a reproving look. ‘I’m sorry, Niamh. I don’t mean to mock you, but you really shouldn’t believe everything you see on the
television. Especially some of those police dramas. The police have no reason to frame Matthew. They’re just trying to establish the facts, that’s all.’

‘Oh, OK then,’ Niamh replied, realising that her aunt was never going to take her fears seriously. ‘Will you be there? I’d rather not do it on my own.’

‘I can be there if you want. I’m sure that will be fine.’

Agatha pressed the button for the fifth floor and the doors closed behind them. They emerged again in silence and she led them along the rows of cars. Fishing a set of keys out of her handbag,
she pressed the remote central-locking button on the ignition key. There was a
beep
and the hazards on a large shiny green jaguar flashed once.

The car looked like it was new, but the personalised number plate, which read AGG 13, gave no clues as to exactly how new.
What a waste of money!
Niamh thought.
What does Aunt Aggie
need a car like this for? It’s ridiculous.

Waste of money or not, having loaded her suitcase into the boot, Niamh could not help admiring the soft leather as she settled into the passenger seat. She ran her fingertips over the material
either side of her legs, enjoying the texture. She inhaled deeply. There was nothing quite like the scent of leather.

Agatha started the engine and the initial deep growl it gave as it fired into life dropped instantly to a soft purr that was barely audible. It was not hard to see how someone used to this sort
of luxury would find Niamh’s recent choice to become a fugitive so strange.

A high-pitched squeaky voice announced from her pocket, ‘You have a text message. A tiny text message. Please read it.’

Aunt Aggie raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Niamh pulled out her phone. It was from Beth. Texting her friend had been the first thing she’d done when the police had returned her
phone to her just before they had left the US; she’d needed to check she’d not got her friend into trouble with the police for being in the Cutler house. But luckily, Beth had been
quick enough to sneak out without being noticed – and, in fact, it had seemed to Niamh that she’d quite enjoyed the adventure!

Speak soon? Bx

Fingers flying around the keys, Niamh typed a quick response.
L8r. Just landed. Nx

* * *

An hour later, they turned in through the black wrought-iron gates and drove up the sweeping gravel driveway to Aunt Aggie’s house. The huge six-bedroomed property on the
outskirts of Banbury was situated in an acre of landscaped gardens. Niamh had always enjoyed playing here with Sam when they were younger, as there were so many mature trees and bushes to climb and
hide in. Where the drive split into a loop in front of the house, three large statues adorned the central island. But while they had looked impressive to her in the past, she now regarded them with
a cynical eye.

Ridiculous and pretentious,
she thought.
Who do they think they’re impressing with this stuff? It’s so over the top, it’s laughable.
A smile spread across her
face as she remembered the time Sam had convinced Archie that one of the statues was really a stone angel monster like the ones on
Doctor Who
. Poor Archie had spent the entire afternoon
trying not to take his eyes off the statue in case it stole his life force and sent him back in time to live out his life in obscurity and poverty.

I wonder if he had nightmares about that afterwards,
she thought, feeling a tiny seed of guilt deep inside for having not intervened. Sam could be mean at times, and Niamh had often found
herself acting as his conscience. Mentally crushing the sensation of guilt under an imaginary foot, she rationalised that if anyone deserved to be the butt of one of her brother’s pranks, it
was the pretentious and annoying Archie.

Agatha swung the car round the loop and pulled to a stop in front of the wide stone steps that led up to the front door. They climbed out of the car and Niamh hauled her heavy case out of the
boot. She had to carry it across to the steps, as the wheels were useless on the gravel. As she approached the front door, it opened and there was Archie with a big grin that exposed the heavy
metal braces across his teeth. He had developed a nasty case of acne since she had last seen him, which made his hawkish face more unappealing than ever.

What planet does he think he’s on?
Niamh wondered as she realised she was staring at her cousin’s clothing. He was wearing a pair of neatly pressed beige slacks, a thin green
turtleneck pullover and what she could only describe as a plum-purple jacket over the top. His dark ginger hair had been slicked back with gel, presumably in an attempt to make him look
sophisticated. The attempt had failed. He looked ridiculous.

‘Hi, Archie. Nice threads,’ she said, trying her best to sound genuine.

‘Hello, Niamh. Thanks. It’s good to see you again.’

The worst thing was, he sounded as if he meant it. She had hoped he would show no interest in her being here, but apparently, she was not going to get that lucky.

‘Can I take your bag for you? It looks heavy.’

‘Thanks, Archie, but I can manage.’

‘Nonsense, Niamh!’ Aunt Aggie interrupted. ‘A young lady doesn’t turn down a gentlemanly offer like that. Good boy, Archie. That was very polite of you. Please do take
Niamh’s bag for her and show her up to her room. Doubtless, she will want to have a wash after her long journey, so don’t delay her with idle chatter, please. You can play together
after she’s had a chance to freshen up and change.’

Play together?
Niamh thought, so incredulous that she was unable to keep her eyebrows from momentarily rising in disbelief.
You’ve got to be kidding! What do you think I am, five
years old or something?
It took all her willpower to bite her tongue and hold back from pointing out that she was not interested in playing anything – especially with Archie.
Stay
calm,
she told herself.
Keep a low profile. Alienating them will only make staying here worse.

‘A shower would be nice,’ she admitted. ‘Lead on, Archie. I can hear the water calling me.’

‘And don’t drag the case across the wooden floor, Archie,’ Agatha warned. ‘I don’t want to find scratches later.’

‘Don’t worry, Mummy. I won’t.’

Mummy?
Niamh nearly choked.
Archie
still
calls his mother ‘Mummy’! He dresses like some wannabe adult from the 1950s, yet he hasn’t progressed his language
past that of a little kid!
She lowered her gaze, covered her mouth with her hand and bit her lower lip to hide her amusement.
Maybe it’s not his fault,
she thought.
It could be
that he’s not been allowed to grow up. Aunt Aggie is such a control freak.

‘It will have to be a bath, rather than a shower, I’m afraid,’ he continued, extending the ‘a’ sound in the word ‘bath’ so much, it sounded like
‘
baaarth
’. ‘We don’t have a shower in the guest bathroom yet. Daddy has talked about getting one fitted, but he’s not got round to it. There should be plenty of
hot water though.’

Oblivious to her amusement, he struggled along the hallway and up the stairs with her heavy case.

Poor Archie,
she thought.
What have they done to you? You always were a pain in the backside, but the posh accent and the clothes are just too much. Sam and his friends would be
merciless if they saw you now.

‘Not to worry,’ she assured him. ‘A bath will be fine.’ She couldn’t resist extending the ‘a’ sound a little to parody his accent, but if he noticed the
mimicry, he showed no sign of it.

‘Jolly good,’ he grunted, heaving the case up the final steps to the long landing. ‘Here you go. Second door on the right. Could you open it for me, please? Thanks. It’s
a nice room. The bathroom is opposite. Towels are on the end of the bed. Give me a shout when you’re done. I’d love to hear about your adventures in America.’ He looked over his
shoulder and lowered his voice. ‘Mummy says you stole a boat! Is that true?’

Niamh sighed and nodded. ‘Yes, it’s true,’ she confirmed.

‘Wow! How absolutely wizard!’

Wizard? Are you still overdosing on Biggles or is it The Famous Five?

‘If you say so,’ she said aloud. Archie put the case down at the end of the bed and looked at her expectantly like a dog waiting to be fed. ‘Right. I’ll see you later
then,’ she added in a not so subtle hint for him to go away.

‘Yes. Yes, of course. Righty ho then. Cheerio for now.’

As the door closed behind him, Niamh fell back on to the bed and heaved a deep sigh. She stared at the ceiling for a moment and then closed her eyes and tried to reach into the part of her mind
where she normally sensed her brother. ‘Where are you, Sam?’ she breathed. ‘Come on! Hurry up and get found so I can get my life back.’

No sooner had the words spilled from her lips than she felt a wave of guilt wash through her. Sam was lost and in danger, her dad was in a cell and here she was, moaning about living in luxury
with rich relatives.

‘Get a sense of perspective, Niamh,’ she muttered. ‘You’ve got it easy.’ But despite feelings of guilt burning inside her, the tight knot of selfish anger
stubbornly refused to unwind. Why was she feeling guilty? It wasn’t as if this was her fault. It was Sam’s pig-headedness about taking the boat out that had caused all this. Despite
being worried for him, she couldn’t help being angry with him at the same time. If he’d listened to her in the first place, they would still be in Florida soaking up the sun and
relaxing by the pool. Dad wouldn’t be in prison and she would not have come within a hundred miles of Aunt Aggie and her nerdy son.

On the other hand, she probably wouldn’t have met Tony either. A fleeting image of the look on Tony’s face after their parting kiss flashed through her mind, bringing a brief smile
to her lips. But even that positive had been short-lived. There were thousands of miles of ocean between them now. Why did life have to be so complicated? It was time to ring Beth. She probably
wouldn’t have any answers to the difficult questions, but it would be good to catch up.

‘Sam, I promise that when I find you, I’m going to hug you and punch you really hard . . . not necessarily in that order.’