The Summer We Loved Page 5

  “Nobody’s seen him,” Jenny told her. “I’ve asked everyone I can think of.”

  Rachel was quiet for a long while after that and Jenny wondered if she was going to say any more. She took the children their lunches and returned to the kitchen.

  “He’s not really as bad as he makes out, you know,” she said, sitting back down at the table, opposite her. “Pete… He used to be such a sweet guy: a steady, good-tempered, respectful lad. This isn’t the real him… At least, I hope it’s not.”

  Jenny looked at her, eager to learn more.

  “He lost someone a few years ago and he blames himself. It’s changed him. And not for the better, I’m afraid.”

  Rachel asked Jenny a little about herself and then they talked about the kids, and after Rachel had settled the children in front of the TV and cleared up the plates, she began to look pensive. “They had a tough childhood, you have to understand. It’s made them very close. James doesn’t talk much about it, but I’ve picked things up over the years. As a family it’s never discussed at all, but I know some of what went on and I think Peter took the brunt of it, being the eldest.”

  Just then James walked in and strode straight up to his wife, he kissed her and then asked her what she had heard. Rachel introduced him to Jenny and he turned round and apologised for not having noticed her before. He was shorter and darker than his brother, Jenny observed. The years didn’t show as clearly, but there was a lot about them that was alike. James’s eyes were darker, but still bright and striking and he was attractive in a quiet, more reserved, way. He had that same dependable calm that seemed to radiate from him; like you could tell him the worst and he would still find a way to help you, but no hint of the edgy flirtation of his brother’s style.

  Rachel suggested the two of them go into the kitchen to talk and she would keep the kids busy in the living room.

  “Has something happened to Pete?” James asked, the moment they were alone and Jenny recounted all that she knew and waited for James to decipher. “Well, a funeral would probably be hard for him, especially so soon after one of his bouts, but…”

  “Do you mind me asking what these ‘bouts’ actually are?” she said, hoping to finally understand what they were dealing with.

  “He gets recurrent nightmares about the night he was involved in a car crash. It’s something he finds hard to deal with, still, after all this time. Did he know the person whose funeral it was well? Or was it perhaps a car crash that killed them?”

  “It was three people, actually,” she told him. “One of my friends died on holiday… with her husband… and their little girl.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He automatically reached out and touched Jenny’s hand. He seemed so kind and sincere and Jenny felt immediately comfortable with him.

  “I think Pete was friends with both of them too: Adam and Kate. Did he ever mention them?”

  James’s face became ashen. “Adam? Not Adam Elliott?”

  “Yes. Did you know him?”

  James pulled out a chair and called for his wife, who came hurrying in. She took one look at her husband, pale and concerned, and looked across at Jenny.

  “What is it?”

  James reached out for his wife’s hand and squeezed it hard. “Adam’s dead,” he said. “He was killed on holiday with his new family. Poor Jenny here was friends with them.”

  Rachel turned to Jenny. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Then this can’t be an easy time for you, either. It’s very kind of you to think of Pete.”

  “He might well have done the same for me, once,” she told them.

  James looked curious.

  “Look, is there something I’m missing here?” Jenny continued after a minute of watching their expressions.

  “You’re certain he’s not been at his flat?” James asked.

  “Certain. The caretaker checked and his phone was still there too.”

  “And he’s not languishing in some pub or other?”

  “Duxley’s not a big town. I’m sure someone would have seen or heard something by now if he was. Please tell me whatever it is that’s so significant about Adam. I may be able to help, or at least, if not, it might give me a clue as to his state of mind.”

  James indicated that she should sit down too and she did as she was asked.

  “The night of the crash, the thing that started this whole crazy rollercoaster off, Pete was the one who was driving. It was Ali, Adam’s first wife who died. He blames himself for her death – which he shouldn’t – but if Adam has died, and you said he was friends with his new wife too, he’s going to take that pretty hard. We need to find him. I need to find him.”

  So that had been the pain he had been hiding. Old conversations came flitting through her head. Something Kate had said about blame all made sense now. He needed her, and she hadn’t come all this way to be pushed to the sidelines now. “We,” said Jenny.

  “No, you stay here. I wouldn’t feel comfortable dragging you around a load of pubs and gutters in a foreign town.”

  Jenny thought she was quite capable of handling herself these days. She’d taken self-defence classes and tried hard to keep herself fit. That was part of why she ran. But she didn’t want to get his brother off side already. “You think he’ll be here?” Jenny asked him.

  James shook his head. “No, but I’ve got to start somewhere if he’s not at home… I’ll get going. Should be easier to find him at this time of day.”

  Reluctantly Jenny stayed at the house and tried to distract herself, playing with the children, while they waited for news. She wasn’t happy being left behind when she’d been the one to set the ball rolling, but he was James’ brother, so this once, she would let him try and find him alone. But if that didn’t work, she was determined not to be pushed aside again.

  At a quarter to eight James returned. He looked tired and Jenny knew at once that his search had been fruitless. Rachel crept downstairs, whispering that the children were finally asleep and he softly headed up to kiss them goodnight.

  They tried to eat that evening, but none of them were hungry. They picked at what Rachel had prepared for them, but when even she pushed the last of it away, they all adjourned to the living room to regroup and plan their next move.

  “I’ll go back out in an hour or so,” James said as they settled down to rest. “See if I can find him in a nightclub. He might not show his face until it goes dark.” Rachel squeezed his hand.

  “What if he isn’t here?” Jenny asked.

  James looked thoughtful. “Have you rung home to make sure he hasn’t shown up there yet?”

  “No. Good idea. Excuse me.” Jenny got up and made her way out into the hallway. Who could she ring? It had to be someone who would know, but wouldn’t ask too many questions. Dave Matthews; he should know. She rang his number. “Hello, Dave, it’s Jenny. I’m with Pete’s brother, in Teak. There’s no sign of him here so far. Has he turned up with you yet?”

  “Um, no. Not as far as I know. But if you find him, you’d better let him know that it’s not looking good around here. According to Laura, he needs to come up with at least a phone call and a doctor’s note soon or he’ll be out on his ear.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Dave.”

  “Good luck.”

  She walked back and stood in the living room doorway. She shook her head and then sighed. “I should be making tracks, actually. The last bus leaves in 20 minutes and I haven’t booked a bed for the night yet.” She smiled and walked out towards the front of the house to gather her things.

  Rachel appeared in the doorway. “We haven’t got a spare room, I’m afraid, but you’re welcome to crash on the couch if you’d like. I’ve got some spare bedding.”

  Jenny hesitated. “Are you sure it’s no bother? I’m quite happy to get the bus. I wasn’t expecting to stay.”

  James walked over to stand next to his wife. “No bother at all.”

  “Well, if you’re offering? Thank you; I’d like that.”

  Jame
s returned before the night was through, but once again there had been no sign of Pete and before they made up Jenny’s bed for the night, the three of them made plans for the morning.

  Rachel was going to hunt down a photo of Pete on the family computer and then James would take it in to work, print off a load of copies and drop them back home as soon as he could so that Jenny could spend the day asking around Upper Conworth, and only then, if she had no luck, would they call the police.

  That night, as Jenny tried to get some rest, wondering how she had ended up sleeping on the settee in Dr Florin’s brother’s house, she started to fear the worst. Pete had looked so awful the last time she’d seen him. She should have done more. She shouldn’t have left him on his own like that, in a graveyard, of all places. What if he had taken his own life? Her blood ran cold as the possibility of this hit home. She wriggled around, trying to get comfortable and thumped the pillow next to her head. Where the hell was he?

  Pete woke up in a room he didn’t recognise. His brain graunched slowly into life. Home. Yes, he was going home. Travelling around the country trying to run from his past had been no help at all. All he felt now was an overwhelming urge to go home, but not to his childhood house, to somewhere safe.

  Swinging his legs off the bed, he rubbed his face, took a swig of water and swallowed a handful of tablets to ease the lightning in his head. His throat was raw. He hauled himself up on shaky legs and looked out of the window.

  He was nearly there now. He didn’t want to eat, he just needed to get there, and so he splashed some water on his face and got ready to check out. Weary, so very weary. It was time to stop running.

  As the bus brought him closer to his old life, anxiety pierced him like an arrow through his heart. He told himself no one lived there any more, that it was just a memory of what had been, but he struggled to contain it quickly enough. His stomach wrenched, threatening to humiliate him, but he gritted his teeth and, breathing slowly, he managed to suppress his nerves and loosely regain some semblance of control.

  At his stop, Pete alighted and stood there, rigid and still. Others got off the bus and circled around him, their expressions enquiring, wondering what he was doing. A tabby cat purred at his feet and curled around him and as he became aware, he was distracted from his dream world. He reached down to smooth its fur, tickling the creature behind the ear. A dog barked in the distance and the cat startled and scuttled away.

  Pete took a deep breath and looked up. If there was any other way to do this he would not be within a million miles of this house, but he need to get to his sanctuary and the only way he knew was from his home.

  He began to walk up the road, his breathing controlled, but his mind was drifting further and further away from him. He turned the last corner and there it was. A shiver coursed through him, even though the day was warm, and flashbacks of rows and fights flickered through his mind. His mother crying. His father leading with his fists. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain. He was a grown man now; his dad couldn’t hurt him any more. His mother was safe and far away from here. He had protected Jim and fought for them all. But there had been nobody left to fight for him. Nobody, except Ali.

  The door of his old house opened and his heart forgot to beat. A chill slithered around him and then a woman with a little toddler walked out into the garden. Blinking, he realised he had to move on. He didn’t want to alarm them. But the woman spotted him and walked over.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, with concern in her eyes.

  “No. I’m sorry. I was just looking. I… I used to live here.”

  “Would you like to have a look around?” she offered, but her voice shook at the end, as if she was suddenly afraid of his reply. She let her hand reach up, protectively cradling the child in her arms and her body weight shifted.

  He had frightened her. Pete shook his head. “No, thank you.” He smiled wearily and walked away. He was as much of a curse as his father had been. He would remove himself from her happy home. At least it was a happy home now, he thought. Or was it? Who knows? Most people had thought his home had been a happy one.

  Two doors along there was a path that lead back between the houses to a street on the other side. And there, right in front of him, was Ali’s house. He wondered if her family still lived there. Sadly she never would again, but she was close by.

  At the end of the road was a gateway and through this was his release. He could almost taste it. With more energy than he had known in days, he climbed over the gate marked ‘PRIVATE, NO ENTRY’ and headed up the lane into the woods. Familiar trees and bracken showed him the way, as his memory led him home.

  It was the place where they had hidden when life became too frightening, when his mum had begged them to run and hide. Torn in two, he had desperately wanted to stay and help her, but he had run and protected Jimmy instead.

  Brambles snagged at his calves as he tramped further and further into the wilderness. Unseeing eyes caused him to trip and he fell, face down in the mud, winded and confused. With no power to move, he lay there for a long while, until the cold of the ground came calling and he heaved at his bones to stand up. His face was sore and he noticed a trickle of blood collecting beside a stone on the ground. He wiped at it and tried to move, stumbling again with the pain. His ankle. It was pounding with a fury usually reserved for his head.

  Pete looked around, searching for where he thought it should be. Although familiar, nothing was quite the same any more and, spotting a fallen branch, he lifted it, broke the rotten twigs away and used it as a crutch. He limped on and finally he found it: the den.

  It was a little fort they’d made when he was about eight or nine, stealing a hammer and nails from his father’s shed to build themselves an escape. It had been their secret - their second home - something they had needed to block out the threat and the fear. Some days he had left Jimmy there alone for hours, as he crept back home to check on his mother. But it only seemed to make matters worse. If it was bad, the images would torment him and plague him with guilt and if he was caught, as he occasionally was, he would pay the price and Jimmy would be left by himself even longer. So, as the years went by, he learned to spend more and more time out in the woods, blocking out what might be happening in the house.

  The den was worn down by time now, but still it was standing there. Tattered remains of bin liners peeped out, nailed around the inside to protect from the wind and the rain. It had been added to as they’d grown bigger and more able. They did their homework inside it and made plans and alibis, excuses for bruises on school days and a code to let each other know when to run. They would never have survived without it, or… perhaps… perhaps if they had faced the music, if he had faced the music, his mother would have left the man earlier? He thought about this. Had she, in trying to protect them, only prolonged the agony? Who could say?

  He ducked his head and stepped inside, crouching to look around him and see what remained. Nobody had touched it. It was on private land. Whoever it belonged to either didn’t know or didn’t care. Gingerly he rested on an old wooden box they had dragged inside many years before. It held his weight. Scratches from their knives, writing words in the wood, still remained to be seen and he ran his fingers across them and remembered.

  Shivering in the dank shelter of the moss-covered hideaway, thrown back in time to a place he had tried to forget, Pete rested his head back and tried hard to picture the happier times: him and his brother playing make-believe in their fort… with Ali. His body ached. He was so tired. Life was tiring, and it was cold.

  Chapter 5

  Jenny walked around the streets of Upper Conworth, stopping anyone who would talk to her, to ask them if they had seen this man. She showed them the picture of Pete and willed each one of them to recognise him. She left her number on the back of the ones she’d placed in the pubs around town, but it was useless. She had been at it for hours and nobody had seen a thing. He could be anywhere by now. Hell, for all she knew he mig
ht even have his passport on him.

  With a sigh she sat down on a wall, knowing time was fast running out for both of them. She had to be back in work the following day and Pete might have already lost his job. Jenny had to get back that night and they still hadn’t found him. People were looking out for him at home and she was sure someone would have rung her if he had turned up. She had to think. If she was upset and she wanted to get away, where would she go? Home? Not likely. A friend? She had tried all the contacts she knew. So it was back to first principles. He had left his phone behind, but he would still need a place to stay. He probably had his wallet and since he wasn’t at home and he wasn’t with James… Maybe she should have been checking hotels? Jenny jumped up and looked around her. Hotels and B&Bs. Where should she start?

  She walked around, calling in on any establishments renting rooms. Door after door was opened and shut, with nothing new to report. She grabbed a pasty from a baker's she passed on her way, as the day was slipping past her and her body needed fuel. She had almost given up when she finally hit on some luck. In a small B&B on the edge of the town centre, at last, a lady remembered him.

  “Quiet guy. Yes, I think it was him. He didn’t look well, though. He checked out this morning.”

  Bingo! Well… almost. So he had been there. Now she just had to find where he had gone. “Did he give you any idea which way he was heading?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid not, dear. He didn’t say much at all. Looked like he had the worries of the world on his shoulders. Is he going to be all right?”

  Jenny looked at her for a second. “I hope so,” she said and then, smiling weakly, she thanked the woman and left.

  Standing outside on the pavement, she rang Rachel. “He’s here,” she said.

  “You’ve found him?”

  “No. But he stayed in town last night. I found a B&B owner who thinks she recognises him from the photo.”

  “Well, good, at least we know we’re on the right track.”

  “Can you think of anywhere else I can try? I’ve done around town, hotels, pubs; James did clubs, er…”