The Cornish Guest House (31 page)

‘I don’t care what he thinks,’ Liz replied hotly. ‘He means absolutely nothing to me. He doesn’t know Loveday and Jesse like we do, and I don’t know how he dares cast aspersions. In fact, I think it’s peculiar, the way he’s so involved. Really odd.’

‘He’s being supportive, Liz. It’s called community spirit.’

He sounded so patronising; it made her blood boil.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Robert, Loveday’s
your
niece and Jesse’s practically family, too. You seem to be more worried about hurting Luke’s precious feelings than you are about them. I can’t figure it out. I don’t know what’s come over you.’

She wanted so much to get through to her husband, to make him see straight, but the air between them crackled and spat with enmity.

‘Robert?’ she said after a moment, wishing that she hadn’t been quite as aggressive; it wasn’t the right way to win an argument after all. But he rolled over and turned his back on her, leaving a gap between them that felt wider than the Sargasso Sea.

*

‘Time to get up, Tabitha.’

Luke’s voice drifted through her mind and for a moment she thought that she was still dreaming.

‘Wake up, Oscar’s calling you.’

Her ears pricked. ‘Mamma!’

She opened her eyes, noticing the cold, grey light seeping through the blinds, and remembered that it was Monday. It should be like any other day of the week except…

‘Mamma!’

The sound of her small son’s cheery voice again cut through the bleak stillness. He was generally happy when he woke and that made her smile, too. But not today.

‘What time is it?’

‘Six thirty.’

Luke’s tone was cold and formal; he’d been like that since their argument about the car, despite her best efforts to backtrack. He was keeping her on her toes, she could tell, cracking the whip and forcing her into line. It would be some time before things between them returned to normal. Well, she’d wait.

She swung her legs out of the duvet and padded across the room to open the door.

‘I hope Loveday’s home,’ she said, without looking at him. She’d gone to sleep worrying about her and it would be the same day in, day out until there was good news.

‘I’m going over to Robert’s,’ Luke responded, adding that he’d hang on till after Oscar’s breakfast and take him, too.

Tabitha was surprised, because he rarely offered to help. Since last week, when Loveday had gone off sick, she’d had to look after their son as well as the guest house and it hadn’t been easy. Now, it seemed, there was no end in sight.

‘I suppose I’ll have to find someone new,’ Luke commented, more to himself than her, and she nodded, thinking him heartless. He seemed very concerned about Loveday in front of others but, in truth, the only person that he really cared for was himself.

She hurried along the landing to her son, almost bumping into him as he raced to meet her. Then she sat him on the bed while she dressed quickly in jeans and a clean white T-shirt before carrying him downstairs.

Shelley was already in the kitchen, fetching eggs, bacon, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms and fruit juice from the section of the giant fridge that they reserved for guests. She’d gone even quieter since the red-haired lady’s dream, as if the less noise she made, the less likely it was that the ghosts would bother with her. Now she went about her work so silently that Tabitha sometimes forgot she was even there.

‘Morning!’ she said, putting Oscar in his special seat and pouring him some cereal, and Shelley merely nodded.

Luke sat beside his son while he ate, leaving his wife to lay the round table in the breakfast room. It was hard trying to perform normal tasks with a knot in her stomach, and her hands trembled slightly as she took the guests’ crockery and cutlery from the heavy mahogany sideboard opposite the window, placed spoons, knives and forks in the right places and folded linen napkins.

As she arranged fresh flowers in a little vase to put in the centre of the table she found herself thinking yet again that she was pretty certain Luke had something to do with Loveday’s disappearance, and that it was somehow connected to his Plymouth office and whatever went on there. After all, he’d lied first to Jesse, Liz and Robert and then to the police when they’d spoken to him last night. What’s more, he’d made her lie, too.

‘Just do it,’ he’d told her on the quiet. ‘It’s what Loveday said to me in the office but it sounds better coming from you.’

She’d opened her mouth to protest but he’d squeezed her jaw so tight that it had made her eyes water, twisting her neck at an angle that had sent sharp pains shooting down the side.

‘Repeat exactly what I’ve said, word for word.’

‘Yes, Luke.’ It was what she knew best.

She felt an overwhelming sense of dread, yet despite her suspicions couldn’t quite believe that he’d harmed Loveday. For a start, he’d been with
her
on Thursday and Friday nights and most of Saturday, around the time when it seemed she’d gone missing. What’s more, she was useful to him and surely the last thing he’d want would be to draw attention to himself, having come here to blend into the community and be seen to lead a normal family life?

Perhaps she’d discovered something about him and his business, got scared and run. That thought gave Tabitha momentary comfort, but then the clouds descended again. Suppose he went looking for her – or got someone else to do it for him? He had plenty of ‘friends’ after all, and was certainly capable of vile acts if he felt that his interests were compromised. Tabitha shuddered, feeling fearful, weak and hopeless and wondering where it would all end.

The smell of bacon and sausages soon brought the first guests down, a middle-aged Australian couple visiting the UK on the initial leg of a European tour. Tabitha hated small talk but they filled the gaps, helping themselves to cereal and fruit juice while they recounted their previous day’s visit to Boddinick. From there, they’d walked across hilltops and through woodland and creek to Polruan, before catching the ferry to Fowey.

‘There were the most glorious views,’ the woman said, tipping milk on to her cereal and adding spoonfuls of nuts, raisins and chopped banana. ‘And at Fowey we had our first ever cream tea.’

‘Lived up to all expectations,’ her husband added, slugging back a second glass of orange juice. ‘I’d like to send some of that clotted cream to our folks before we leave Cornwall. They’ll go mad for it.’

Tabitha suggested a mail-order shop before taking their requests for cooked breakfasts, and when she returned they asked about the missing girl. They hadn’t met Loveday, having only arrived two nights ago, but they’d seen the police in the village.

‘What a worry,’ the woman said. ‘Her parents must be frantic.’

Tabitha made to leave, but the woman wasn’t content to stop there. ‘This seems such a safe, welcoming place. Do you think she’s run away? But the police must suspect something bad or they wouldn’t be here, would they?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ Tabitha snapped, then, checking herself, ‘I mean, I’m sure she’ll turn up soon. She probably just wanted a break, she’s a bit like that.’

The other guests appeared in dribs and drabs: a German woman with very short hair and a no-nonsense air; an Irish couple; and a businessman from Nairobi and his daughter, who was at university in Plymouth. The businessman asked if, instead of a cooked English breakfast, he could have rice, potatoes and salad, and Tabitha hurried next door to see what Shelley could rustle up.

Before long, the room was humming with noise and laughter as everyone shared tips and stories. At the same time the phone rang frequently, with people enquiring about accommodation, and Tabitha longed for Loveday, who’d become so adept at answering calls and checking dates on the computer in the study by the kitchen.

When at last the guests had finished, Shelley helped clear away and started on the rooms while Tabitha took payment from the Australian couple, who were leaving, before checking the emails and online bookings. It was almost midday before she could finally scoot upstairs, knowing that Luke would no doubt be home soon, so she’d have to be quick.

She opened the blinds just a chink and checked outside before calling Molly’s number.

‘Can you speak?’

There was a crash, as if Molly had broken something, then, ‘Bugger. I’ve just spilled coffee all over my desk.’ She was silent for a moment before coming back on the line. ‘I’m so glad you rang.’

Molly said she’d seen Carl in town and Tabitha’s heart missed a beat, as it always did at the mention of his name.

‘He was on his own, he didn’t see me, but it was definitely him. So he’s not in Cornwall, for sure. You’re safe.’

Normally, the news would have filled Tabitha with joy, but today it scarcely registered. In short, breathless sentences she explained about Loveday’s disappearance, her own lies and fears that Luke was involved. She knew that she didn’t have long.

At the end, Molly let out a pained sigh. ‘You’ll have to tell the truth.’

Tabitha started, almost dropping the phone. ‘I can’t. You know what Luke would do. He’d throw me to Carl or finish me off himself.’

She expected Molly to agree, but instead she hesitated before clearing her throat. ‘Between a rock and a hard place, eh, Tabby?’

Tabitha’s shoulders slumped. ‘As always.’

‘Except that this time someone else is involved – a young girl.’

Tears sprang to Tabitha’s eyes and she dug her nails into the palms of her hands, wishing that the pain would wash her misery away.

‘Do you think I don’t know that, Molly? Do you imagine I’m not ashamed? I have to live with the guilt twenty-four seven. If it weren’t for Oscar, I promise you I’d call the police right now – and to hell with the consequences.’

*

Jesse’s mum stood at the door of his old bedroom and wrinkled her nose.

‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?’

He didn’t answer.

The room was pretty much as it had always been – single bed, small desk and chair, a few shelves on the wall proudly displaying his childhood sports trophies, various books on surfing and an assortment of annuals, including the football ones that he’d devoured as a lad.

The only real change since he was small was that Karen had replaced his old spaceman duvet with a plain blue one, and the walls, once covered in posters and stickers, were now painted a neutral shade of cream. It was a right mess today and smelled stale. She was itching to get in there with the vacuum cleaner and furniture spray.

She repeated herself, louder this time, and Jesse took out his earphones. It was after 4 p.m. on Tuesday and he was sitting on his bed, still in the boxers and crumpled T-shirt that he used as nightclothes. He hadn’t felt like changing, hadn’t felt like getting up at all, to be honest.

‘I’ll be down in a minute,’ he said, plugging the earphones back in and bobbing his head in time to the music that he was pretending to listen to.

He could tell his mum was annoyed, she hated what she called ‘slovenly behaviour’, but she wouldn’t scold him like she used to when he was a kid, not today. She knew he was unhappy and she was being really kind, keeping off his back, bringing him drinks and snacks, but it didn’t help, not really. He was glad she was there, though; he didn’t know if he could cope on his own.

The police had been round yesterday and again today, a man and a woman, with the same questions they’d first asked on Sunday night, only put in a slightly different way: what was Loveday like as a person? What was her state of mind before she left? How was his relationship with her? They’d kept homing in on the fact that he hadn’t been entirely honest about the argument. They were very interested in that.

‘Why did you tell Robert Hart you hadn’t argued when you had?’ they’d repeated this morning. ‘Why did you imply the chair had broken by accident and the hole in the wall was caused by moving a wardrobe?’

Jesse had explained that he was ashamed for having lost his temper and hadn’t wanted anyone to know, not Luke or Robert, least of all his mum.

‘My dad used to shout at her a lot and throw things and I hated it,’ he’d said. ‘I don’t normally yell at Loveday, well, only when she yells first, and then it’s usually over really quick and we make up. I’ve never chucked anything at her in my life.’

‘Are you sure you didn’t chuck the chair at her on Thursday night?’ the policeman had enquired. He’d been very polite, as if it was the sort of thing you’d ask anyone any day of the week, but Jesse knew what he was getting at and it had been all he could do not to holler at him then, out of sheer upset and frustration. Couldn’t they see that he wanted her back more than anyone? Didn’t they realise he was missing her like crazy, like a hole in the heart?

‘Never!’ he’d replied wearily, because he’d said it all before. ‘I hurled it at the wall and it smashed. That’s why there’s a dent there.’

‘Can you explain why Loveday told Tabitha Mallon that she was frightened of you? Why would she say that if it’s not true?’

The first time he’d heard it Jesse had been so surprised he’d honestly thought they might be winding him up, but they’d looked deadly serious. Jesse’s mind had started racing but he’d told himself to keep calm. Don’t let them rattle you.

‘I’ve no idea,’ he’d replied slowly. ‘It must have been a joke. I mean, we love each other. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with that girl.’

The policewoman had scribbled something down in her notebook before smiling at him, as cool as a cucumber.

‘Are you jealous of Mr Mallon?’

‘Jealous? Why would I be jealous of him?’

‘You told Mr Hart you thought he and Loveday were having an affair.’

Jesse felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach because it hadn’t been easy for him to admit that to Robert and it was supposed to be private; he’d thought Robert was his mate, well, sort of, as much as a boss could ever be your friend.

He removed his earphones again and switched off the music because nothing, not even loud noise, could distract him from his thoughts. Surely Robert didn’t believe…? And what about Liz? He got up and stared at himself in the little mirror above his desk, thinking that he scarcely recognised the person staring back.