‘Don’t you feel scared, living out here alone with your baby? It’s pretty isolated. You must be lonely?’
Grace looked up to see Jenny observing her curiously.
‘Sometimes…’ she admitted. ‘But we’re adjusting…’
‘I don’t think I could live back here now,’ Veronica remarked. ‘No offence,’ she said as Meredith raised her head, ‘I’ve just got too used to having a supermarket on hand 24/7. I don’t know how you did it, Mum – I’m always running in there for something or other.’
‘You just need a better routine,’ Meredith said. ‘You have it too easy nowadays – it makes you lazy.’
‘No it doesn’t,’ Veronica cried. ‘Disorganised, maybe. Lazy, no.’
Meredith smiled thinly and began to help herself to more potato salad.
‘How old is your daughter, Grace?’ Jenny asked.
‘Millie is fifteen months.’ Grace couldn’t help smiling as Millie’s petite little face came into her mind. ‘She’s developing a strong will of her own already – though she hasn’t started walking yet.’ She looked across at Liza. ‘How long till your baby arrives?’
‘Five weeks,’ Liza replied. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘It changes your life, that’s for sure.’ Grace tried to catch Veronica’s eye for backup, and Veronica smiled but didn’t seem willing to comment. Grace fell silent again, feeling as though she had hit on an awkward subject.
She was relieved that everyone’s attention moved next to Claire, who was roundly berated for planning yet another trip abroad, with no sense of, in Dan’s words, ‘long-term responsibility’. Grace had always been a little envious of big families, but as she listened she realised that they could be quite claustrophobic too – particularly if everyone decided to gang up on you and tell you how to live your life. Perhaps that’s what had happened to Ben. She looked at the mantelpiece clock. It was after nine and there was no sign of him. It didn’t seem as though he were coming – which meant that she had a long night ahead of her with the rest of his family.
She had just finished eating when the conversation swung her way again. ‘So, Grace, how are you getting on with the cottage?’ It was Steve, Veronica’s husband, who had spoken.
‘Slowly,’ Grace admitted. ‘But hopefully things will speed up a bit, now all the festivities are out of the way.’
‘Meredith told me about her suggestion,’ he continued, and Grace recalled Meredith saying that he was a solicitor. She looked over to see that Meredith had her head tilted to one side as she listened, like a bird suddenly aware of an interesting morsel.
‘When people go missing the spouse can get tied into their property for years, even if it is in joint names,’ Steve continued.
Grace tried to keep her face fixed as she said, ‘Yes, I’m aware of that…’ Her voice was hostile, and she avoided everyone’s gaze.
‘Meredith’s idea might be advantageous for both of you,’ Steve persisted. ‘And I’d be happy to find out what can be done legally. If you rent it to someone you know, you might avoid a few problems – particularly if Adam comes back and isn’t happy with the arrangement.’
‘That’s unlikely to happen now,’ Dan added as he ate, waving his fork in the air. ‘Sorry, Grace, but you don’t often find a missing person after all this time.’
Grace was seething. How dare they casually discuss her decisions, her life, and her husband over dinner like this. She was on the verge of losing her temper, when the conversation moved on as though nothing had happened. Veronica started to reprimand one of their children for running around with their food. Jenny got up and began collecting plates.
Grace met Claire’s eyes and saw her sympathy. Meredith was scrutinising her too, but as soon as Grace noticed, the older woman got to her feet and busied herself helping Jenny with the dishes.
People began to leave the table, and Liza hurried from the room. ‘I’m going to check on Millie,’ Grace announced to no one in particular, and followed. At least if she could press Liza to talk to the police, this night wouldn’t be a total waste of time.
However, by the time she reached the hallway, Liza was nowhere to be seen. Frustrated, Grace headed instead to the lounge and peeked under the pushchair hood, reassured by the sight of Millie’s peaceful face. She sat down, and was considering whether to rejoin the party or sneak back to the cottage, when she realised she could hear talking. It was coming from behind her, beyond a window that looked out over the front of the house. She wanted to move, but the curtains were open, and if she got up she would probably be seen in the lamplight. So she sat there uncomfortably, unable to avoid hearing what was being said.
‘Liza, listen to me,’ came a male voice. ‘You can’t stay with him. He’s an idiot.’
‘What choice have I got? I’m not asking for anything from you, so leave me alone – I can’t do this any more.’
‘We’re not doing anything, I’m just talking to you…’
‘You know exactly what I mean. It should never have happened in the first place. If anyone finds out… If Veronica -’
‘They won’t…’
‘They would suspect right this second if they opened the door. I have to get back.’
‘Liza, wait…’
But then there was the sound of the front door opening and shutting, and footsteps hurrying along the corridor.
Grace sat there, stunned. It was unbelievable. This family became increasingly complicated the more she knew of them. Surely Veronica would have some idea of what was going on right under her nose. She couldn’t live with someone and not know…
Then she realised where her thoughts would lead, and cut them dead.
There had been no sound since she heard the front door, and her anger had faded to resignation. There was little point in sitting here. She would go back to the party and at least try to see in the New Year.
She had another peep at Millie, who was still soundly asleep, then headed back out. She was in the corridor, about to re-enter the dining room, when the front door opened.
Steve looked at her in astonishment, but as he saw the look on her face, his eyes turned guilt-ridden. Grace could only hope that she did a passable job of feigning disinterest before she turned away.
A few people asked after Millie when she returned. They had all moved across to the comfier seating, and as the wine flowed, most of the family gradually forgot Grace was there. At one point her phone beeped in her pocket and, collecting it, she saw she had a text from James.
Looks like our friendship is finished.
She would have been disturbed by it if she didn’t know him so well. He would have had too much to drink for the New Year countdown. Don’t be daft, she quickly replied. But after that she heard nothing more.
When the clock read a quarter to eleven, Claire leaned over and said sadly, ‘I can’t believe Ben isn’t going to come.’
Claire had seemed so hopeful that this evening might be a step forward for them all, and Grace felt sorry for her. ‘I’m sure he has his reasons.’
‘Yes, he’s as stubborn as Mum,’ Claire muttered.
As the year met its final hour, the conversation began to turn maudlin. Veronica had eventually got her boys off to bed and appeared to be determined to make up for the drinking time she’d missed. She was lying on the couch with her head propped against Steve’s thigh when she said, ‘I can’t believe this is the first New Year without Dad.’
‘I know,’ Claire agreed. ‘He did love a good knees-up.’
‘He loved the idea of a party,’ Liza said with a smile, ‘but let’s face it, often by this time he’d be exactly like Jack…’
They all looked across. Feathery Jack was slumped in an armchair, his head lolling forward over his chest as his body rose and fell rhythmically.
‘Not on New Year’s,’ Meredith said. ‘That was different.’