Chapter 17
It was freezing outside and with the cold biting, I pulled my coat tight across my front with one hand, while using the torch to light my way with the other.
The thick frost had further hardened making my path extra treacherous, and thanks to my inappropriate footwear, I suddenly slipped, slid and flailed my arms like a freestyle figure skater.
My heart was in my mouth by the time I reached the safety of Theo’s house.
I banged on his door and waited for him to answer.
Finally, I heard movement from inside.
As he opened the door, Theo clocked my heels and pyjama bottoms. ‘Nice combo.’
‘I know where they’ve gone.’ With no time for niceties, I brought up Mum’s TikTok and thrust my phone his way and as he focused on the screen I took in his black oversized T-shirt and black baggy jogging pants.
Elasticated ankle wear usually made me frown but even paired with slippers this man made them look good.
He looked from Mum to me, his expression confused. ‘Is that…?’
‘My mother? On TikTok? Oh, yes.’ I nodded for him to watch it.
Theo gestured me inside and following him down the hall, I was immediately transported back to my childhood; his house smelled of Christmases past. I breathed in the aromas of orange, vanilla, cinnamon and ginger and as we entered the kitchen, my eyes widened at the sight that met me.
Theo clocked my surprise. ‘Sorry about the mess,’ he said. ‘It was either this or sit here clock watching.’
Little Erin was delighted by the lines of biscuit covered cooling racks, mince pie mountains and coconut pyramids. However, the estate agent in me felt disappointed. It would have been nice to finally see the room I’d heard so much about in all its glory.
Theo’s kitchen had been renovated by the previous owners and Mum had given Joyce a run for her money on the gossip front when she’d insisted on providing me with a daily commentary on the upgrades taking place.
She’d talked of gloss white cupboards and beautiful quartz countertops and had waxed lyrical about the huge island going in.
However, experiencing them first hand it was hard to see beyond the opened bags of flour and brown sugar.
Theo evidently didn’t clean as he went and while he leant against the counter and pressed play on Mum’s video, my eyes fell on the room’s huge stainless-steel range.
Discarded pans sat on three of its eight burners and golden sponge cakes baked in both of its massive ovens.
The butler sink, big enough to bath a toddler in, was crammed with used mixing bowls, wooden spoons and a rolling pin. ‘You have been busy,’ I said.
Theo reached the end of Mum’s filming and filling his cheeks with air, he exhaled. ‘You really think they’ve gone to France?’ He handed back my phone.
‘If Jackson has taken his passport, then yes.’
Theo didn’t appear convinced.
‘Unless you’ve got a better idea?’ I asked.
With me refusing to budge on the matter, he relented. ‘I’ll go and check.’
While Theo headed off into another room, I sat on a stool at the island and hit Google. To stand any chance of intercepting Mum and Jackson, we’d have to get to France.
‘Looks like you’re right,’ he said, returning empty handed. ‘So much for us spending Christmas together.’ Theo sighed. ‘Why couldn’t he just trust me?’
‘What do you mean?’
Theo shook his head. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.’ There was no anger on his part. No frustration. Just despair. If anything, Theo seemed accepting of events.
Unlike me, who wanted to throttle the two absconders. ‘Is that all you can say?’
‘What else is there?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe that we find them and bring them back.’
Theo laughed. ‘Jackson’s seventeen and Maeve’s a grown adult. If they wanted to spend Christmas in Timbuktu we couldn’t stop them.’
‘But we can’t just sit here,’ I said, trying not to let my imagination spiral with yet more images of a lost and confused mother.
‘Mum converses with garden plants and Jackson’s best friend’s a seventy-nine-year-old woman.
Streetwise they are not. Lord knows what trouble they could find themselves in.
France isn’t all cheese, baguettes and croissants. ’
‘And where do you suggest we start? France is a massive country.’
I held up my mobile. ‘There’s a flight to Paris this afternoon. Which gives us plenty of time to pack and get to the airport.’
He looked at me incredulous. ‘And then what? We hire a car and go where?’
‘I don’t know. We can decide when we get there.’
Theo’s bewilderment continued. ‘Who’s to say they’ve even gone to Paris? For all we know they could have flown into another city.’
‘Good point.’ I did another internet search. ‘Jesus. How many airports does one country need?’
Theo shook his head and laughed. ‘I can’t believe you’re being serious.’
‘One thing we do know,’ I said, ignoring his remark.
‘Is that this trip of theirs was planned. Going off Mum’s TikTok, it had to have been.
The question is why?’ I picked up a biscuit from one of the plates and bit into it.
‘If we can answer that, we’ll know where exactly they’ve gone.
’ I tried to recall if Mum had mentioned anything in passing at some point; like wanting to climb the Eiffel Tower or stroll down the Champs-élysées.
My mind came up blank and I looked to Theo.
‘Has Jackson said anything that might help?’
He shrugged. ‘Not that I can remember.’
‘Well one of them must have said something.’ Racking my brain, I straightened myself up as a thought suddenly struck me. ‘The letters!’
Theo looked at me bemused. ‘What letters?’
I jumped down off my seat. ‘The ones from Gisèle. Mum’s old pen pal.’
Theo still didn’t appear to be following.
‘Her French pen pal,’ I said.
Theo was right behind me as I raced, as best as I could in high heels, out of his front door and back into Mum’s house. ‘She’s been reminiscing about Gisèle a lot lately,’ I said. ‘Talking about how sad it was they’d lost touch and how she wished they’d got to meet all those years ago.’
Heading straight through to the dining room, I rummaged through the mountain of paperwork left over from my previous search.
‘I’d put money on that being where she and Jackson are headed.
’ Sifting through each item, I found numerous electricity, gas and phone bills, along with bank statements and condolence cards from Dad’s passing.
There was even a dental appointment card.
‘I don’t understand. I saw her put them in with this lot myself.
’ After another root through, I’d no choice but to concede Mum’s letters weren’t there.
I put a hand up to my chest and looked to Theo. ‘She must have taken them with her.’
‘Can you remember what was on the envelopes?’ he asked. ‘Part of the address if not all of it?’
Scolding myself for not paying more attention, I tried and failed to picture them. ‘Nope. None of it.’
‘So we’re back to square one?’
I frowned in disappointment. ‘So that’s it? You’re just quitting?’
‘Look, I get where you’re coming from. But it’s not like Maeve and Jackson are runaways. They’ve gone on a trip. A badly timed one, granted. But they are coming back.’
As much as I wanted to accept Mum and Jackson had simply gone on a great adventure to see Gisèle, Theo’s lack of urgency grated.
Mum hadn’t been herself since Dad died and not only did the fact she’d disappeared without warning prove she wasn’t thinking straight, I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her.
‘But we can’t just sit here and do nothing.
’ I swept all the paperwork back into the drawers.
‘That might work for you, but I’ll drive myself mad with worry.
’ As I closed the drawers altogether a second realisation hit.
‘What if that’s it? What if they haven’t flown to France at all but have driven?
’ My spirits lifted. ‘That could mean they’re still this side of the channel and we have a fighting chance of catching them up. ’
‘It’s a possibility, I suppose,’ Theo said. ‘Depending on how much of a head start they’ve got.’
I wrinkled my nose, hopeful. ‘Does Jackson have a licence?’
‘A provisional, yes. But he’s only had a couple of lessons. He’d never be able to drive abroad.’
My optimism vanished.
‘What about Maeve?’ Theo asked.
‘She’s passed her test. Before I was born, although I don’t know why she bothered.
’ Deflated, I plonked myself down on a dining chair.
‘Apparently, Dad was a horrendous backseat driver. Mum warned him if he didn’t shut up, she’d never get behind the wheel again, but did he listen?
After one criticism too many, Mum slammed on the brakes, took the keys from the ignition and threw them into the roadside bushes. ’
Theo laughed. ‘Did your dad find them?’
‘Eventually. Leaving him to it, Mum got the bus home. True to her word, she never drove from that day forward.’ I sighed. ‘Not that any of that helps us with our current problem.’
‘Well they’d need a car for a start,’ Theo said. ‘Which Jackson doesn’t have.’
An image of Jackson tinkering with Dad’s old Volvo popped into my head. ‘Oh no.’
‘What?’
‘Violet!’ I raced to the front door, grabbing a key from a bowl on the hall console table as I went.
‘Where are you going?’ Theo asked following me. ‘And who’s Violet?’
With Theo close behind, I skidded to the side of the house and Dad’s garage. Fumbling with the padlock, my hands shook as I struggled to unlock it.
‘Here, let me,’ Theo said.
As he stepped in to help, I tried to ignore the dread building up in my chest.
Theo pulled open the huge wooden garage door, and we both stared into the empty space where Dad’s car once sat.
‘I’m gonna kill her,’ I said. ‘If she doesn’t kill herself first.’
‘Don’t forget about Jackson. He’s in the vehicle with her.’
We looked at each other direct. ‘Time to get packing,’ we both said.