Human Face Page 5

‘Adam, please! Please, Adam!’ She was crying convulsively now, with high, frightened gasps like a child. There was no hope, nothing she could do. There was only a choice: the dog, or …

  She’d seen what the dog did to the animals it caught. The other – it would be quick, at least.

  There was a chirruping whistle from Adam and the dog gave several sharp, excited barks, snapping the pointed teeth, barely containing its excitement. Any second, it would be given the signal to attack.

  Eva had long neglected her Catholic faith but now, lips stiff with terror, she gabbled, in her mother tongue, the old familiar words: ‘Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.’

  She took a step back. ‘Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners …’ Then another step. ‘…now and at the hour of our death.’

  And one more step.

  Gripping the steering wheel hard in concentration, Beatrice stared at the road unwinding ahead of her, screwing up her face against the lights of the oncoming cars. She yawned, feeling her eyes starting to itch, the lids beginning to droop. She stretched them wide open, and shook her head as if that might dislodge the treacherous longing for sleep.

  It was half past seven. She hadn’t taken a proper break in Oban and the long drive was taking its toll.

  ‘Oh dear, Rosamond,’ she said to the doll, now sitting propped in the passenger seat, ‘Mummy’s getting very, very tired. I think we’re going to have to stop for a minute.’

  She peered ahead into the darkness. She wasn’t sure where she was, even, and all she could see was featureless rough ground on either side of the main road. There was only one petrol station with a shop and a little cafe attached around here, before the Skye Bridge, and she couldn’t remember whether she’d passed it or not. Surely she’d have noticed it?

  Beatrice drove on for a bit, uncertainly – and then there it was, the welcome lights an invitation. She turned into the forecourt, drove round to the cafe and got out, with a reassuring pat to Rosamond.

  The cafe was more homely than the motorway chains and the thickly iced cakes were home-made; the sugar rush of a large slice of lemon sponge and a black coffee should keep her alert enough to get the two of them safely home. She carried her tray over to the window where she could keep an eye on Rosamond in the car.

  With its position here in the wilds, the business did a good trade, with a lot of cars coming and going. Enjoying her cake, Beatrice didn’t pay much attention to the big Mercedes by the petrol pumps – until Adam Carnegie came out of the shop and walked back towards it.

  Beatrice gasped, and inhaled on a crumb. It was only after the paroxysm of coughing had subsided that she could mop her watering eyes and peer out. The car was just driving out, heading south.

  Adam should have been on his way to Paris by now. What could have made him miss his flight? She rummaged in her bag for her mobile; her automatic reflex was to call him and find out what had gone wrong and ask whether there was something she could do.

  Then she paused. Once or twice before she’d tried to be too helpful and had got a stinging rebuke. If Adam had wanted her help, he’d have asked for it – and anyway, what could she really do just at the moment? Perhaps he’d have left a message for her back at the Lodge. She’d be in a position to deal with it there.

  And anyway, what if she’d been wrong? The lighting wasn’t very good; what if it hadn’t really been Adam at all, just someone who looked like him?

  No, the best thing she could do was to get back as soon as possible. She finished the rest of her cake more carefully, drained the coffee and left. She had enough to think about now to make sure she wouldn’t fall asleep at the wheel.

  ‘Pick up, Eva, pick up!’

  For the twentieth time, Daniel Tennant pressed redial. It rang briefly, then went to voicemail yet again. He ended the call, then slammed the phone down so hard on the table in front of him that he bruised his knuckles.

  He had been texting, with increasing frustration at the lack of replies from her, off and on since the middle of the afternoon. There was a lot hanging on this. Eventually he had walked from his rented cottage to the pier and with a little frisson of disquiet saw that Carnegie’s Mercedes, usually parked by the pier, had gone.

  She’d said she would call him the minute the man left, but she hadn’t. He went back to the cottage, just starting to worry.

  Maybe she’d got cold feet. He phoned this time but she didn’t pick up. He left a message, asking her what was happening – still no reply. When he phoned again, he left a more reassuring message; it didn’t matter if she’d changed her mind, he just wanted to know that she was all right.

  There was no response to any of the next calls, either. At last Daniel got up, unable to sit still, and paced over to the window that looked out across the bay. It was evening now and in the fast-fading light he could only just make out the bulk of Balnasheil Lodge against the hill on the other side. The windows were all in darkness.

  He couldn’t bear hanging around watching a phone that obstinately refused to ring. He had the use of a small boat; he pulled on his weatherproof jacket and then walked along to the wooden jetty where it was moored. He had no need for secrecy this time so he fired up the outboard and chugged across in less than ten minutes. He tied up at the wooden jetty and crossed the lawn; in the darkness he could see the paler colour of the drive going up to the front door, and went towards it.

  There were no lights to be seen anywhere. When he rang the bell he thought fancifully that it sounded as if it was ringing in an empty house, and he didn’t expect a response. He didn’t get one. There were no cars parked outside either.

  He walked round to the window Eva had told him was her bedsitter, but though he cupped his hands and peered through he couldn’t make out anything in the darkness, except a white mass that was her bed. There was no one in it.

  He hadn’t really thought she would be. He could probably get in by the side door – no one locked doors around here – but he really couldn’t afford to be caught inside the house. There wasn’t much point anyway, when he could see her bed was empty.

  He turned away, dismayed and helpless, then noticed a light in the little gatehouse at the foot of the drive. Marek might know something, though whether he’d tell Daniel was another matter.

  He’d seen him drinking his beer in the pub from time to time but the man rebuffed all attempts to draw him into conversation. Perhaps it was a language problem, but on the other hand from the look of the man he wasn’t likely to be chatty in any language.

  The sudden, savage barking of a dog stopped him and he looked wildly round him. Surely the grounds weren’t patrolled? But no, he was just walking past a cage in front of a huddle of outbuildings and he could make out a large dog there, even hear the snapping of its teeth as he passed. Lucky there was a stout padlock, he thought as he knocked on the gatehouse door.

  Marek only opened it a few inches and he didn’t look welcoming. In answer to Daniel’s question, he shrugged.

  ‘I don’t see her,’ he said flatly, then retreated, shutting the door again.

  There was nothing more he could do. Amid another frenzy of barks, Daniel headed back to the boat. He was seriously, seriously worried now, almost sick with worry.

  Where was she? Where could she be? And what could he do, if she wouldn’t answer her phone – or chillingly, couldn’t?

  He knew the answer to that. Nothing. Except wait. And worry.

  Beatrice drove faster than she usually liked to do over the narrowing roads. She was worried about what could have delayed Adam; he would be so upset if he missed his plane! It was only a one-day conference but it was a regular meeting that brought together agencies dealing with refugees in Europe as well as Africa and he always enjoyed those. What was haunting her was that maybe it was something she’d failed to do – that would be so awful, and she just wanted to check everything to make sure.

  Mutterin
g a checklist and pushing on, she lost concentration and rounding the corner before the old stone bridge she skidded on some loose gravel; she went on more cautiously after that with her heart in her mouth.

  When she reached the drive, there was a light on in the gatehouse but Balnasheil Lodge itself was in total darkness. Eva was usually a night bird; perhaps she was in the kitchen, at the back.

  Or perhaps she’d gone, really just gone. Beatrice’s heart gave a little skip of pleasure at the thought.

  But she had more important things to attend to. She climbed out, stiff after the journey, and limped to the front door. When she tried it, it opened – did that mean Eva was still in the house? If the house was actually to be empty they locked up, though they didn’t bother otherwise.

  She hurried into the office, dreading a reproachful note, but her desk was still in the pristine state she always left it in. There was no rebuke, but no instructions either; she was more puzzled than ever.

  She switched on the computer to see if he had sent her an email but the only ones that had come in today were routine. She did an extra check of the arrangements in case she’d got it wrong about the time of the flight, but no; it was exactly as she had thought.

  Adam would just have to get himself on to a later plane, if he’d missed that one for some reason. Or perhaps she really had been mistaken; perhaps it had been someone else at the service station who looked like him and she’d made an assumption because of the car. Plenty of people owned Mercs and surely if there had been a problem Adam would have let her know. Yes, that probably explained it.

  Certainly there was nothing she needed to do tonight – except, of course, check to see if Eva really had gone. The dark house had been promising, and there was no light on in the back corridor. The kitchen door was standing open and she wasn’t there.

  Beatrice’s heart was beating a little faster as she reached Eva’s room. In case she was in after all and was just having an early night, Beatrice tapped on the door and opened it cautiously.

  The room was empty and when she switched on the light she could see that there was none of Eva’s usual clutter on the dressing table. She opened the wardrobe: empty. The drawers in the little chest: empty. Eva had gone, most likely run away with the young man she’d seen her with the other night. Beatrice made a little soft, triumphant sound.

  Adam would be angry, humiliated, even, and she gave a shiver at the thought of how angry he would be. But she must work extra hard at making the Lodge a restful, pleasant place to be, an oasis in his busy life. Perhaps after this he’d see how deceitful these girls could be and he wouldn’t see the need to find another ‘housekeeper’.

  And of course, poor Adam might have come looking for Eva and been worried that something had happened to her when she was nowhere to be found. That would explain why he was delayed. Beatrice’s annoyance on his behalf mounted; it was so inconsiderate of Eva, and she’d probably made Adam miss the conference he’d been looking forward to.

  Well, there was nothing she could do about it tonight. Perhaps he’d managed to get a standby ticket, or something. She gave a huge yawn and turned to go.

  It was only then that she noticed the other smaller suitcase that had been pushed right under the bed. Why would Eva have gone and not taken that with her too?

  Beatrice felt sick. The ‘what ifs’ were multiplying in her mind, forming more and more hideous pictures, like the flashbacks that had only recently stopped afflicting her.

  Oh no, no, it couldn’t be, she told herself. Not again! Suddenly the room seemed very, very cold.

  Vicky was surprised when Daniel Tennant appeared on the doorstep first thing in the morning, asking if she would take him to Balnasheil Lodge when she went across. She didn’t know him very well, had just chatted to him once or twice in the pub where Murdo John did shifts as a barman.

  ‘Why?’ she asked, puzzled.

  ‘I’ve been trying to phone Eva since yesterday. She’s not replying – it just goes to voicemail.’ He seemed quite upset.

  ‘Maybe it’s just the signal’s down. It’s a bit iffy round here,’ she said soothingly. She didn’t like to say that maybe Adam Carnegie had found out about Eva’s little flirtation and told her it had to stop.

  ‘I’d still like to go across and see that she’s all right.’

  Vicky looked at him sharply. ‘Is there some reason why she shouldn’t be?’

  ‘No, no, of course not. I just – just want to speak to her.’ He didn’t sound convincing.

  He really was worried. Vicky felt a sudden qualm of nerves – she’d had that nasty feeling that things were going wrong at the Lodge between Adam and Eva. She said, ‘Yes, I’m sure we can. You could wait and bring him back, couldn’t you, Murdo?’ She went to get her coat.

  Murdo John, busy stacking the dishwasher, nodded, then gave Daniel a straight look. ‘Do you think she’ll be glad to see you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Daniel said truthfully. ‘But I know I’ll be very glad to see her.’

  From her bedroom window Beatrice saw Murdo John’s boat coming across the bay to bring Vicky in to work. Then she stiffened; there was a man in the boat with them and she recognised him. What was that man doing coming here?

  She’d passed a wretched night, with hideous dreams when she did get off to sleep and then wakefulness to a reality that didn’t seem much better. She couldn’t make up her mind what she should do; should she phone Adam to tell him Eva was gone? He might blame her if she didn’t – but then again, he might blame her if she did.

  If he was in Paris, if he’d caught his plane, perhaps she had just been mistaken about seeing him, and Eva herself had forgotten about the bag she’d put under the bed. Thinking of that explanation made her feel better, though she’d brought the bag up here anyway without letting herself consider why.

  But this man, coming up to the house with Vicky, the man she’d seen with Eva that night – why wasn’t he off somewhere with her? For a moment she felt so faint that she had to sit down.

  Whatever it was, she’d have to deal with it – for Adam. Taking a deep breath, she got up and went downstairs.

  As they had crossed the bay to Balnasheil Lodge the sun was still low in the sky, glinting on the sea and sending shafts of silver dancing on the waves. There was a touch of frost in the clear autumn air, making the colours particularly vivid and the outline of the surrounding hills as sharp as if it had been outlined with a fine-point pen.

  Daniel Tennant was oblivious to the postcard-perfect scenery, sitting in the stern, drumming his fingers on the side of the boat. It seemed to be taking longer than usual to make the short crossing.

  Vicky, feeling on edge, chattered on randomly. ‘Beatrice is staying in Oban tonight, so Eva and I should have time to make sure we’ve got it right for Harry Drummond coming tomorrow before she gets back and starts fussing. She’s always a bag of nerves in case he finds something to complain to Adam about – and believe me, he will unless everything’s perfect.’

  He barely heard her, and it had been difficult to make the right social responses. When they reached the jetty he had jumped out almost before Murdo John had tied up and waited with raging impatience for Vicky to follow.

  Now as they walked up to the house, Vicky stopped suddenly. There was a small Fiat parked round the front.

  ‘Oh! Beatrice must have come back last night after all.’ She didn’t seem entirely delighted about that. ‘Come in anyway.’

  She opened a side door and ushered Daniel inside. ‘This is her room here.’ She gave a tap on the door but there was no answer. ‘We can check in the kitchen – this way.’

  Instead of following her, Daniel opened the door. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said grimly. The room was empty of any sign of personal belongings.

  Vicky turned. ‘What! Has she – has she just gone? She didn’t say anything to me about it yesterday. I thought I was her friend – why wouldn’t she have said goodbye? I wonder if Beatrice knows?’

&nbs
p; ‘If Beatrice knows what?’

  Daniel turned. The woman coming along the corridor was hugely fat with a pale, flat face ringed with a layer of chins. She had muddy grey eyes and her hair hung in a thin, lank bob.

  Before Vicky could answer, Beatrice went on, ‘And who are you? What are you doing here? I saw you coming over to meet Eva the other night, didn’t I?’

  She was bristling with hostility. Daniel said, as pleasantly as he could, ‘We were just wondering if you knew where Eva was?’

  A sort of ripple passed over Beatrice’s face but it was hard to tell what she was thinking. ‘Gone,’ she said harshly. ‘Just taken off. Isn’t she with you?’

  ‘Did she tell you she was leaving?’ he asked.

  She gave a little snort. ‘She didn’t have to. I saw her suitcases, all packed. She was obviously just waiting till the coast was clear before she went. I’m just going to check around and see what else she may have taken with her.’

  ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t have taken anything that didn’t belong to her!’ Vicky cried, distressed. ‘She was a nice girl, Beatrice.’

  Daniel gritted his teeth. ‘Did she say where she was going?’

  ‘I didn’t ask her. I’m sure she’ll get in touch with you if she wants you to know. Perhaps she was friendly with someone else as well, someone that you didn’t know about.’

  She gave him a knowing little smirk that made him want to seize the old bat by the neck and squeeze hard. Right at this moment he’d be happy to think there might have been.

  She was going on, ‘Vicky, now that Eva’s gone there will be quite a bit to get on with. So if there’s nothing else …?’ She raised her eyebrows.

  There wasn’t, really. Feeling sicker than ever, he went back to the boat.

  ‘Did you have a word with her?’ Murdo John asked.

  Daniel shook his head. ‘The room was bare. She’s gone.’

  ‘Ah.’ Murdo John pondered that for a moment. ‘Not the first, you know. Not very – settled, these girls.’