? Weeping on Wednesday ?
Twenty-Eight
“Does your mother know you’ve come?” It was the first thing Enid had said to Jamie since leading him through a silent kitchen, where cats were curled up on the rag rug in front of the fire, closed-up balls of fur, and a sheep dog growled and bared its teeth at him.
“Um, yes,” he said. “But perhaps I’d better not stay. That man said – ”
“Oh, don’t take any notice of him,” said Enid. “That’s my father, and his bark’s much worse than his bite.” She led him through into a dark hallway, and he almost tripped over a tray of dirty dishes left on the floor outside a closed door. “Oops!” said Enid gaily. “That’s my mother’s. She likes to eat on her own…well, do everything on her own, really. She puts her tray out for us to collect.” She bent down, picked it up and put it on a side table. Then she opened another door on the opposite side of the hallway and said, “Come on in, Jamie, we can make a start.”
It was the dining-room, Jamie supposed. A harsh overhead light shone on a large oval table, highly polished, with a vase of artificial flowers set on a lace mat, exactly in the centre. Six chairs were neatly placed around it, and at the side were silver candlesticks and covered dishes on a massive carved sideboard.
“What’re they for?” Jamie walked over and touched the ornate lids.
“Oh, vegetables and things,” said Enid casually. “Never used now, of course, but I keep them cleaned. They came from Father’s family, and I don’t like to get rid of them. Who knows when we might need them?”
Jamie accepted this without question, and looked around.
“Cool!” he said, seeing the piano in the corner. It was very large and solid, plain in a good way. He could read the word
“It came from Cheltenham, many years ago. It was my great-grandmother’s,” Enid said.
“Will I be able to play it?” said Jamie apprehensively.
“The keyboard’s exactly the same as yours,” said Enid reassuringly, opening up the lid and setting a piano primer on the music rest. He sat down, and Enid showed him how to adjust the height of the stool, spinning round and round, until it was right for him. Then she drew up one of the big dining-chairs beside him. “Right,” she said, “off you go. Let’s have the scale of C major.”
He began to play, and could hear at once that the piano was out of tune. It bothered him, but he said nothing. Everything Enid told him was like a magic way into a different world. He was totally absorbed, and at first didn’t hear the noise coming from the other side of the hall. Finally he stopped playing, and looked at Enid. “What’s that?” he said, as the rapping became savage and sharp.
Her expression had changed, her shoulders drooped and she looked down at her hands. “It’s Mother,” she said. “She doesn’t like us playing the piano. I’m so sorry, Jamie, but I’m afraid we’ll have to stop. But never mind,” she continued, “I’ll give you some exercises to do for next week, and then you can get back home. It’s dark now, and I expect your mother will be glad to see you back.”
They left the dining-room, and Enid switched off the light, pulling the door shut. In the dim, narrow passageway, Jamie followed close behind. As Enid picked up the tray from the side table, Jamie froze in terror at a loud hail of raps and shouts coming from very close to him.
¦
“Give Jamie a shout,” said Lois to Douglas. They were all relaxed in front of the television, and the scent of freesias brought home by Derek filled the room. “It’s his favourite programme,” she added. “Must have done his homework by now.”
“Unlike him to be s’keen on maths homework,” said Derek, his feet propped up on the stone fireplace. “Cold tonight,” he added. “Clear sky later, and no wind.”
“Just as well you didn’t put out them plants,” said Lois comfortably. “Douglas, please do as you’re asked,” she added. “Go and call Jamie to come down. You bet he’s stuck to that computer again.”
Gran sighed. “I think he’s sulking a bit, about missing his piano lesson. He’s really keen, that lad.”
“Yes, well,” said Derek. “He’ll have to learn that life’s full o’little disappointments.
Douglas got up from his chair reluctantly and sloped off to the foot of the stairs to call his brother. When Jamie did not appear, Derek stirred. “No, you stay there, Lois,” he said, as she also began to rise. “I’ll go. Do me heavy father act. That should bring him…”
Lois heard Derek padding upstairs, and then silence for a few seconds. Then she heard doors opening and shutting, and finally Derek’s rapid descent.
“He’s not there!” he said.
“What d’you mean, ‘not there’?” Lois frowned, but Douglas shrugged.
“Probably in the bog,” he said.
“No, I’ve looked. I’ve looked everywhere, and he’s not in the house.”
Sudden fear shot through Lois. She ran out into the hall and began to call. “Jamie? Jamie! Come here at once!” Old memories of enemies she had made through working for Cowgill came rushing back. Revenge for her part in nobbling villains had already struck at her family.
“Hold on, Lois,” Derek said. “Let’s think.”
“Ring the police,” said Gran. “You can’t muck about when a lad’s gone missing. In the dark and cold…” There was a break in her voice, and she disappeared into the kitchen.
“Not for the minute,” said Derek, switching off the television. “Sit down, all of you. Now, where might he have gone. Douglas?”
“His friend Sam,” said Douglas. “Just down the road. We could ring.”
“OK – you do that,” said Lois, holding on, as Derek had said. “Josie? You got any ideas?”
“You could look in the garage, or the shed,” she replied. “Start close to home. If the daft little sod’s hiding, it could be there.”
“Language,” said Derek automatically. “Go and look, Josie.” He said it without much hope. Why should a boy hide away in a freezing cold shed for no reason at all? Douglas came back from the telephone, shaking his head. “Sam hasn’t sin him since they got off the school bus. Didn’t know where he could’ve gone. He said he’d help look, but I said we were OK.”
Lois clenched her fists to keep the panic down. “He wouldn’t go with them kids round the back of the village hall, would he?” Nobody wanted to think about that. It was well known as the local meeting place for having a smoke, exchanging tabs, Long Farnden’s very own drug scene.
Josie came in from the garden. “Nope, he’s nowhere there. But his bike’s gone, Mum.” Not good news, she knew. The village hall kids always had their bikes for a quick getaway. Lois pulled on her anorak, and turned to Derek. “You stay here for a few minutes,” she said. “I’ll be back. If I don’t find him, we ring Keith Simpson.”
Derek nodded, but thought privately that they could do a better search themselves than bring in Constable Plod. He felt reasonably calm. Jamie was a sensible lad, and would not normally do anything stupid. But was this a normal thing? He’d never run away before, or anything like that. Always been a bit spoilt, perhaps, being the youngest. But not wilful or disobedient. Sometimes Derek thought he could be a bit more independent, not so close to his mother and Gran.
In the kitchen, Gran sat at the table, eyes closed, thinking.
¦
Lois walked quickly. She had a torch, but did not switch it on. Long Farnden had no street lights, but she knew her way like a cat, avoiding potholes and broken pavements. She intended to come round the corner of the village hall very quietly, and hoped to surprise them. She knew most of them. They were not all deprived kids from broken homes, not by any means. Good, middle-class backgrounds, most of them. Working mothers, though. She felt a pang of guilt.
As she expected, the small huddle of teenagers broke up quickly, peeling off on their bikes and disappearing into the night. Only one figure remained, and it was not Jamie. “Mrs M? What are you…?” Lois knew the voice at once.
“Hazel?”
“Yes, it’s me, in case you’re wondering. I’m working. For our mutual friend. Spy, informer, grass…What shall we call ourselves? This is my patch…but I s’pose you’re not here to help?”
