Sara Foster - Beneath the Shadows

She remembered his note now, with a shudder of disquiet: I have to talk to you when I get back, don’t go anywhere. As she sighed, a cloud of mist formed in the frosty air. Surely this was it – he had meant to tell her about Jonny. So why had he chosen that moment? Had he found something in the library?

She watched her breath dissipating. This was all supposition – who knew if it even had any bearing on why he’d disappeared. She recalled Liza and her family at the table tonight. Meredith’s indifferent stare. Perhaps they were trying to unnerve her, make her feel that her husband had been keeping secrets from her, manoeuvre her out of the cottage so Meredith could take it over. Well, if that were their intention they were going to be disappointed.

It was time to get back inside before she caught pneumonia. She left the gazebo and moved hurriedly along, careful not to trip on the long undergrowth next to the murky water. As she walked through the car park, she pictured Millie’s sleeping face, and rummaged in her small bag to phone Emma.

‘I’ve been expecting you to call!’ Emma said as she answered. ‘And she’s fine. Not a peep out of her. Enjoy yourself while you’ve got the chance. I’m not expecting you back until way past midnight.’

‘Thank you, I really appreciate it,’ Grace said.

‘Don’t you worry, I’m sure we’ll be needing a favour from you at some stage.’

As Grace hung up, she registered the sounds of the ball again, and wondered if James and Annabel had realised that she was missing. Annabel probably won’t even notice if I’m not in the car on the way home, she thought, since she’s likely to be both drunk and exhausted by then.

Grace’s mother had always urged her to be a responsible older sister and look after Annabel, even though they were only thirteen months apart. She had once done so willingly, yet nowadays at times she resented her sister’s devil-may-care approach to life. ‘Grace was born responsible,’ her father used to say proudly. And so it appeared. Was this what she was doing now by moving back to the cottage – putting herself through all this because of some questionable notion about what ‘the right thing to do’ might be? What if she didn’t want to be responsible any more? Perhaps that should be her New Year’s resolution, she decided, with a surge of defiance.

There was an unexpected movement behind her. She whirled around, peering back towards the trees, and saw a familiar figure vanishing behind one of them, a tall man with dark hair.

She shook her head briefly to try to re-establish reality, but it was no use – that short glimpse had stung her so hard that she broke into a run, screaming as loudly as she could, ‘Adam!’

At the sound of her cry, the man spun on his heel. ‘Grace!’ Ben said, a mixture of astonishment and worry on his face. ‘What are you doing out here?’

For a moment she had imagined it was her husband, and nothing else had mattered except catching up to him. Now, bitter disappointment derailed her.

‘Why the hell are you creeping around?’ she shouted. Ben appeared to wince at her loud voice, and glanced uncomfortably towards the trees and the car park and hall beyond, but there was no one visible, only the faint sound of music.

‘Grace, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you – I didn’t know anyone else was down here.’

‘But what are you doing here?’ she demanded, still angry. ‘You said you weren’t coming.’

‘Well, I changed my mind. A few times, actually. I was wondering if this might be -’ He stopped, as though reluctant to go on.

‘Be what?’ Grace insisted.

Ben shook his head. ‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter.’ He came closer. ‘Here,’ he took off his jacket and held it up to drape over her shoulders, ‘you must be freezing.’

Grace became aware of how tightly she had wrapped her arms around herself, and how hard she was shaking. She let him lay the jacket over her, and as the fight left her, tears began to form in her eyes. She looked down.

‘You should go back inside, Grace, where it’s warm.’

She kept her focus on the ground. ‘I’d rather not, for a minute.’

‘All right then, come and sit in my car for a while and get warm.’

He led the way to the Land Rover, slivers of light from the hall reflecting off the bonnet. She heard the click of his key-fob and the doors opened. Grace climbed into the passenger seat and laid her head back against the head rest, while Ben got into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

‘Where are we going?’ Grace asked, alarmed as the doors automatically locked with a loud click.

‘Nowhere,’ Ben said, ‘I was just switching the engine on to get the heat coming through properly.’

Grace looked at the bright lights of the hall, and pictured the cheerful celebrations inside. Right at this moment she wanted to be far away from it all. ‘Actually, can you take us for a drive?’

Ben didn’t say another word, but put the car into gear and began to reverse.

Once they were heading slowly down the gravel driveway, Grace nestled into her seat. The silken lining of Ben’s jacket was soft against her arms, and she pulled it closer around her, breathing in the unfamiliar scent of his aftershave on the lapels. The dark sky formed a backdrop to the sable silhouettes of trees as they sped along. Nightfall made everything an illusion. The small red and blue lights on Ben’s dashboard were comforting, reassuring little beacons of safety; the car their small enclave on the unfamiliar roads.

She roused herself as Ben slowed, to find that they were caught in a traffic jam.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked, intrigued.

‘They’re heading for midnight mass.’

Grace looked towards the church in the distance, then at the cars pulling up. ‘I’ve never been,’ she said. ‘Have you?’

‘Would you like to go now?’

Grace considered the unexpected offer. ‘Yes.’

Ben pulled in to the kerb without a word. They got out of the car and made their way through a small lych gate, then along the churchyard path towards bright, welcoming light. Grace hadn’t been to a church service since she was a child. Her parents used to attend every week, until her father had found a new religion called golf.

They slid into an empty pew at the back, and Grace looked around. The church was long and thin with an ornate high ceiling. The organ droned in the background as the congregation filed in, then struck up with a renewed vigour as the clergy processed slowly down the aisle.

When the service began, Grace let the words wash over her, the vicar’s voice rising and falling in prayer. When she was asked to kneel, she pressed her face against her hands and let her tears come in silent relief, acknowledging how helpless she felt, and sending out a plea that the coming year would be brighter and happier for Millie and for herself.

When the service ended, she felt lighter. She hadn’t so much as looked at Ben since entering the church, but now, as people began to wish one another a merry Christmas, he turned to her with a smile. ‘Happy Christmas, Grace.’ She smiled in reply, enjoying the snatched moment of tranquillity. Then she glanced at her watch.

‘Oh no, I’ve got to get back. Annabel and James will be going mad… and I need to get home for Millie.’

‘The ball doesn’t finish until one,’ Ben reassured her. ‘They might not have even registered that you’ve gone.’

But Grace had no doubt that they would have noticed by now. ‘Can we go quickly?’ she asked as they hurried out of the church, saying a brief Merry Christmas to the vicar before rushing back to Ben’s car.