Was it her imagination or did his face fall slightly when she said that? It was clear that he was still hankering after a relationship, but she would need several gallons of fresh island air in her lungs before she’d be able to think thoughts like that. On the other hand, she could search for years and never find a man as supportive – and, yes, as fanciable – as Sam… A couple of deep breaths on Sunday should do the trick. She smiled again and his face brightened.
Nina gave Naomi one of the doctor’s pills and sat by Sam’s spare room bed until the little girl fell asleep. Naomi’s face was flushed, and lying there in her Snoopy nightgown she was the very same child who slept in her little room under the farmhouse roof on Arran, lulled by the sounds of the sea. Nina heaved a sigh. They had survived. Everything was going to be all right.
Sam was on the landline when she went back to the living room. He was talking to David Mallony, but the conversation was coming to a close.
‘They haven’t found Paul yet,’ said Sam, replacing the handset on its base. ‘David thinks he’s holed up somewhere on one of the estates. Apparently there’s a fair-sized paedophile network around here and Paul has contacts to them.’
Nina shuddered. It was more than time to leave Bedford, leave David and his team to close the case.
‘We’ll go on Saturday. All I want to do now is get Naomi well away from here,’ she said. ‘The bad stuff won’t seem so immediate when we’re back home. Island life is so different.’
‘Nina – I meant what I said about visiting you on Arran,’ he said. ‘I know you don’t want to think about what we could have together, but one day you might and till then I’ll be making a nuisance of myself. Be warned.’
Nina laughed, and held out her glass. ‘I’m warned.’
Sipping, she wandered through to check that Naomi was okay. Because… and the thought made her shiver all over again – Paul was still out there somewhere. They weren’t safe yet.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Friday 28th July
To Nina’s relief Naomi slept right round the clock. She was sombre when she awoke on Friday morning, however, and Nina decided the best thing to do was to keep busy as well as give Naomi plenty of cuddles and opportunities to talk about what had happened if she wanted to.
The other important thing was to get back to Arran asap. Nina wasn’t sure if Naomi had realised Paul was still at large, but hell, this wasn’t something she wanted to talk about till there were a few hundred miles separating them from Bedford. She sent Naomi to help Sam make breakfast while she booked flights for the next day before e-mailing their arrival time to Beth, grinning when a reply appeared within minutes. Beth must be doing the mails too, sitting at the kitchen table as she always did. And wow – just one more sleep here in sunny Bedford and then they’d be travelling north, her and her girl. Nina hugged herself.
‘Beth’s meeting us at Glasgow tomorrow,’ she said, sliding onto a high stool at Sam’s breakfast bar and reaching out to rub Naomi’s shoulder. ‘She’s taking the car, if she can get it booked on the ferry, to get us home as quick as she can.’
Naomi’s face lit up. ‘Great. And then can I go riding on Monday? My wrist’s better now.’
Nina’s heart contracted with love. ‘You certainly can. We’ll get the next trekking course organised for you too.’ She smiled at the girl, glorifying in the answering smile from Naomi. How great it was not to have to count the pennies any more. Naomi could even have her own pony... It was going to take a bit of getting used to, this having money.
‘So what are we doing today?’ asked Naomi, and Nina turned to Sam.
‘Should we pack up the last few things at the house first, then go and see Cassie and Glen?’ she suggested. ‘We’ll go to Emily on the way to the airport tomorrow.’
‘Okay. I’ll tell Mum to expect us for coffee this afternoon.’
Nina phoned David Mallony for permission to break the seal on John Moore’s front door, and was told there was still no sign of Paul, but the police had traced the owners of the farmhouse on holiday in the Lake District.
‘We haven’t found anything to link them to the Moores or Wrights,’ he said. ‘I think the connection there must go back to the previous occupants, the people who had the place when Paul was a lad, and they’ve been dead for years. I’ll send an officer to meet you at John Moore’s house; he’ll watch the place while you’re inside. Until Wright’s found we have to be very careful.’
‘Thanks, David,’ said Nina. Thank God there would be a policeman with them at the house. The thought of going back was daunting.
She rang off and gave the phone to Naomi to call her father, careful to keep her voice neutral. Alan’s reaction to Naomi’s abduction became more infuriating every time she thought about it. It wasn’t so much that he hadn’t come back to the UK, after all, South Africa was a long way away – but now that she’d been found, a few concerned phone calls from her father would have helped distract Naomi and reassure her that she was loved. But Alan seemed to have relegated both Naomi’s abduction and her own to a ‘getting lost in the supermarket’ level of importance. Sam was doing a much better job at providing her child with concerned fatherly support. And Nina wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.
John Moore’s house looked exactly the same as the very first time she’d laid eyes on it, and Nina glared at the ivy-clad walls with distaste. Definitely, this would be the last time she’d come here. After all that had come to light these past couple of weeks she had no wish to go inside even now, but there were still some things here she wanted. The blue vases from the bedroom, for instance. They’d been Claire’s, and spending the past twenty-five years with John Moore hadn’t made them less beautiful.
The police officer broke the seal and stationed himself at the front door while they trooped inside. Naomi started to hunt round for her missing ipod, and Nina went into the living room. The air smelled musty; it was as though the house had been shut up for centuries and not a few days. And there was the sofa where Paul sat and told her a pack of lies – and she’d believed him.
‘Nina, stop it. Let’s find the stuff you want and get out of here,’ said Sam, rubbing her shoulder.
Nina heaved a shaky sigh, staring at the big table, where two stray photos lay gathering dust. The rest were still with Emily. She would collect them when they visited tomorrow.
‘There’s nothing in here,’ she said. ‘I’ll have a quick look in the study and then pack the last odds and ends from the bedroom. Sam, could you maybe bring the big box of china down from the attic? There might be something nice there, like those vases.’
He gave her a salute and bounded up the stairs two at a time. A shriek of triumph told Nina that Naomi had found her precious ipod, and she went into the study to see her daughter booting up Sam’s old laptop.
‘It was under the microwave. I’ll charge it up here now. And Mum, could we take that little desk home? It would look quite nice in my room.’
Nina glanced at the secretaire, her lips twitching. So much for her own plans for it. And if Naomi was developing a taste for antique furniture it was just as well they’d inherited John Moore’s millions.
‘Sure,’ she said, going through to the kitchen. ‘Sam can organise to have it transported up to Arran.’
Or if he kept his word and came to see them on the island, he could bring it himself, if he drove up. And talking of Sam, where was the man? He’d been up in the attic for ages, and there were no thumps and bumps telling of him shifting stuff around.
Nina ran up to the first floor. The vases were still on the chest of drawers in the room she and Naomi had occupied, and she pulled a couple of towels from the airing cupboard to wrap them in.