47. Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Seven
‘ A ll right ladies, that’s us done.’
I wiped my brow with my gloved hand and stretched out my aching back. I’d cleaned fifteen toilets that morning, which had to be a record. There’d been some famous pop star or other performing at the football ground the night before and the toilets were as disgusting as I’d expected them to be. Mind you, they were never as bad as after a match. The things I’d had to fish out from toilet bowls didn’t bear thinking about.
I packed my cleaning equipment away in its box and washed my hands in the staff changing area. Once my uniform was hanging in my locker, I joined the queue of women waiting for Carla to hand out our wages.
Among the long line of workers, I was the only Brit prepared to do this kind of work. All the others were migrant workers, the very workers lambasted in British papers by the kind of guys who couldn’t flush their own crap, never mind clean up someone else’s.
I reached the front of the queue and Carla handed me my two twenty-pound notes with her usual smile, jotting down my hours in her small notebook. Being paid in cash was a godsend. I stored my earnings in my sock drawer, counting them out each night and calculating how long I’d need to save before being able to take on Marion.
The coffee van outside the stadium was doing a roaring trade, but despite being dog-tired, I headed to the car, saving myself for cheaper coffee at home. The city roads were quiet, most commuters were not even awake yet, and I made it home in record time.
‘Coffee?’ asked Rob, as I walked into the kitchen.
‘Silly question.’ We’d not spent that much time together over the past few weeks, but the time we had spent had been amicable enough. I resented how private he was with his business and finances, but appreciated the effort he’d been making with Bertie.
‘Is Bertie awake yet?’
‘No, still sleeping, I think.’
‘OK. I’m going to have a shower, then I’ll wake him up.’
I spent longer than usual under the hot water. My shift had been particularly gruelling, and despite the rubber gloves and protective uniform, I felt covered in grime that needed to be cleaned away.
At seven I went to wake Bertie but found his bed empty. At least Rob had managed to drag him from his bed, and I wouldn’t have to deal with the usual morning grump. Once dressed, I went downstairs to find Rob eating alone at the breakfast bar.
‘You’ve not let Bertie watch TV, have you?’
‘I thought he was upstairs getting dressed.’
‘No, he’s down here with you.’
‘Liv, I’ve not seen him yet this morning.’
I ran into the living room, but there was no sign of Bertie. He wasn’t in his bedroom, or in the bathroom brushing his teeth as I’d hoped.
‘Everything all right?’ called Rob.
I ran back down the stairs. ‘When did you last see Bertie?’
‘The same time as you. When we took him up to bed.’
‘You’ve not seen him at all this morning?’
‘No, why? What’s wrong?’
‘He’s not here.’
‘Of course he’s here. He’s probably hiding somewhere, not wanting to go to school.’
While Rob looked all around the house, I ran back to Bertie’s bedroom, searching under the bed, looking through drawers. ‘Rob! Rob, come here.’
‘What is it?’
‘His backpack’s gone, along with a load of pants and socks.’ I opened the wardrobe and began rifling through. ‘There are two pairs of trousers missing and one of his hoodies.’
‘You think he’s run away?’
‘What other explanation is there? We need to call the police.’
‘Hang on a minute. Let’s ring round his friends first.’
‘Friends?’ I rounded on Rob. ‘What friends? He was beaten up at school yesterday lunchtime. All the kids know about you going bankrupt. He’s miserable. I’d go as far as to say he’s depressed. This is your fault. If you’d stood up to your mother, or not been stupid enough to go bankrupt, he wouldn’t be this miserable. We were happy, Rob. HAPPY. If anything’s happened to Bertie, I’ll never forgive you, or your nasty, cruel, spiteful witch of a mother.’
I thundered downstairs, grabbing my coat.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To Cass’s. He might be on his way there.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘No, stay here in case he comes back. And don’t even think about calling your parents. Marion will only add this to her collection of ammunition. In fact, she’ll probably ring round her friends to have a good laugh.’
I slammed the door behind me and screeched out of the driveway, breaking all speed limits until I finally pulled the car to a stop outside Cass’s house.
‘Is he here?’ I asked as soon as Jasper opened the door.
‘Is who here?’
‘Bertie.’
‘Bertie? No, why, should he be?’
I burst into tears, and Jasper put an arm around me, pulling me into the house. Emmy walked into the room, took one look at me, rolled her eyes and walked back through to the kitchen.
‘Jake?’ called Jasper, easing me into an armchair.
Jake walked into the room, a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth.
‘Jake, Aunt Liv’s looking for Bertie. Do you know where he is?’
Jake shook his head. ‘No. Has he run away?’
‘We don’t know.’
‘Well, good on him if he has.’
‘Jake!’ Jasper looked at his son, open-mouthed. ‘That’s a horrible thing to say.’
‘No, it isn’t. She’s the horrible one,’ said my nephew, pointing at me. ‘She’s the one who made him leave his school and all his friends. It’s her fault he’s so unhappy. If I was her son, I’d run away too.’
Jake stormed out of the room and, rather than chasing after him, Jasper ran upstairs, returning with a bleary-eyed Cass following behind. ‘Jasper told me what Jake said,’ said Cass, propping herself on the arm of the chair. ‘I’ll speak to him later.’
‘He’s right, though. I am a horrible mother. It’s no wonder he ran away.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Cass. ‘None of this is your fault. Marion put you in an impossible situation. You were doing what you thought was right for your son.’
‘But now he’s missing. What if he… what if he…’
I collapsed, sobbing into Cass’s arms. She stroked my hair, holding my trembling body tight until I could breathe again. I jumped as my phone vibrated in my pocket.
‘Is it Rob?’
‘No, it’s not.’ I answered the call. ‘Pat?’
‘Liv, hello. I’m calling because we have something which belongs to you. I assume you’re looking for your son?’