Sara Foster - Beneath the Shadows

‘Good to meet you all,’ she said, glancing around to find Meredith’s eyes fixed on her. Claire began to move towards her again, but Grace pretended she hadn’t seen, and hurried away.

Annabel and James were already back at their table. ‘Where did you go?’ Annabel asked accusingly. ‘You left my purse on the chair, it could have been stolen.’

‘I’m not here to babysit your handbag,’ Grace retorted. ‘Look after it yourself.’

‘All right, calm down.’ Annabel glared at her.

Their attention shifted towards the stage as the raffle was drawn. Grace glanced at her tickets, then screwed them up. Then the lights were dimmed again, the music resumed, and everyone went back to their conversations. Trying her best to absorb the carefree atmosphere, for a while Grace chattered inconsequentially to Annabel and James over another glass of wine, but she felt as though she were alone in an invisible bubble. ‘Time for another dance,’ Annabel announced a little while later, and James agreed, saying, ‘This time you’re coming too, Grace,’ but dancing was a step too far for her tonight, in front of all these people, particularly when she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.

She decided she would go for a walk rather than sitting by herself next to the packed dance floor. She thought she might find a moment’s solitude in the ladies’ bathroom, but when she arrived there was a queue of women gossiping animatedly while they waited for a cubicle. So she headed back beneath the leering parade of hunting trophies, towards the main doors of the building. The old women who had welcomed them were no longer there, and she leaned against the cool stone wall, breathing in the frigid air, feeling the chill of the night seeping through her skin and into her bones.

‘Grace?’ a female voice said.

Grace whirled around. One of Meredith’s daughters was standing behind her, contemplating Grace nervously.

‘Liza, isn’t it?’ Grace queried.

‘Yes,’ the woman replied, a small jewel in her brown hair glinting in the soft light. ‘I need to talk to you. Alone. It’s about Adam.’

As Grace stared at Liza, she noticed that Liza’s stomach protruded in front of her like a perfectly rounded egg. Grace’s whole body had stiffened upon hearing Adam’s name, but before she could speak, Liza said, ‘This way,’ and headed down the steps. At the bottom she glanced back and beckoned Grace to come with her.

Grace followed in a daze, as Liza made for two soaring oak trees whose trunks stood set apart but whose branch tips bent to join each other in a delicate embrace. There wasn’t much light to navigate by, but between what little moonlight had managed to penetrate the clouds, and the glow from the hall, Grace could make out a small lake in front of her. Liza had turned right and disappeared, and as Grace came through the trees she saw there was an ornamental gazebo a little further along. Creeping plants had spun a web of stems over the wrought-iron railings, and there were a few steps leading into it.

Liza waited inside, looking out across the lake. As soon as Grace joined her she said, ‘I’m sorry to bring you out here like this, but I didn’t know how else to speak to you on your own. And I need to tell you something…’ She searched Grace’s face for reassurance.

‘I’m listening,’ Grace told her quietly.

Liza took a deep breath before she spoke. ‘I saw Adam in the library in Ockton, the day before he went missing. I’d nipped in there to browse while I waited for a bus, and I was amazed to bump into him. We recognised each other straight away, even though it’s been, what – over fourteen years… But during the summer he spent in Roseby, my sisters and I saw him all the time – he made life far more interesting for a while, I can tell you. Anyway, it was really lovely to catch up. He told me about you, Grace – said he was married and had a baby girl – he looked really proud.’

Grace felt a searing pain in her chest. She went across and leaned on the railing, studying the inky-black lake. Patchy light illuminated small parts of its glassy surface, and highlighted the dark outlines of plants and bushes surrounding it.

Liza came closer and put a hand on her arm. ‘I’m sorry, Grace. I can only imagine how difficult it must be -’

‘Why the hell didn’t you come forward at the time?’ Grace interrupted, anger sitting low in her voice.

‘I didn’t know that Adam had gone missing straight away,’ Liza explained, withdrawing her touch. ‘And when I found out, it was complicated… for reasons I don’t want to go into, but which have nothing to do with Adam. Anyway, at the time I didn’t think our conversation would be relevant – but when I heard you were back, I knew I should talk to you, just in case…’

‘What else did he say?’ Grace demanded impatiently.

‘Well, he was sitting at a computer when I saw him, with the phone book open next to him, and when I asked him what he was doing, he looked kind of sheepish and said, “Looking for my dad.”’

On hearing those last four words, Grace froze. Liza didn’t notice, and carried on.

‘I was taken aback by that. When he’d stayed in Roseby after his mother died, the main things I remember about him were first of all that he pretty much chain-smoked, and secondly that he talked a lot about how much he hated his father for abandoning them. So I wasn’t sure what to say, but he added, “I’d just like to hear his side of the story.” And then I’m certain that we began talking about something else – that’s all I remember him saying about it anyway. But I recall him telling me that very clearly, because he’d obviously had such a big change of heart.’

Grace was trying to imagine this conversation taking place. ‘Adam rarely talked about his father to me,’ she told Liza. ‘He seemed to have dealt with the trauma of his early life. He was one for always looking forward, not backwards.’

‘Well,’ Liza said, ‘he had changed then, because he used to be obsessed with his dad. And that’s probably a good thing, actually, because although I didn’t really understand at the time, it wasn’t very healthy the way he talked then. But he had only just lost his mother – he needed someone to direct his anger at, I guess. The way he spoke in the library struck me, because that hate wasn’t there any more – he was quite matter of fact about it.’

Grace swung round. ‘I want to tell the police about this,’ she said. ‘In case it makes a difference. I wish you’d said something at the time.’

‘Grace, I understand how you must feel, but I’m asking you – begging you, in fact – not to get me involved.’ Liza sounded frightened.

‘Can I ask why?’ Grace persisted.

Liza shook her head. ‘I can’t say, I’m sorry. Please – I’ve told you all I know. Leave me out of it now.’

Grace made a noise of frustration and looked back across the lake for a while, lost in thought. When she turned round, she was alone in the gazebo.

All at once, the cold was unbearable. She looked through the trees towards the lights of the hall. She wasn’t ready to go back there yet. Her thoughts tumbled over one another as she tried to make sense of what she had heard. While Liza had been talking, half of Grace had been listening attentively, but the other half had been picturing Adam’s earnest face and trying to figure out why he hadn’t told her what he was doing. She had a disconcerting feeling that she might know the answer. While Grace was pregnant, she had asked Adam if he’d thought about tracing his father. He had seemed agitated by the suggestion, and had given her a big speech about how the past was best left alone. If he’d changed his mind, and decided to do some research while they were at the cottage, he might well have put off telling Grace, knowing what he’d said before, reluctant to admit his change of heart.