I have no response to that. If she doesn’t want to go, I won’t make her. The key now is to placate MJ. I can’t have her relapse, but I won’t put Neive’s happiness on the line. I’m not ready to make any promises I can’t keep, so I’ll keep quiet for now. I need to talk to MJ first before letting Neive know and coming up with a new plan together.
~
Back at the house, I’ve shut myself in the study. Neive hasn’t come out of her room since we got home. I’ve told Claire totake her lunch to her room. She doesn’t want to come out. That’s okay, space is a good idea for all of us right now.
Maybe Reilly is right. My life is complicated. But the thought of her here calms me. The image of her baking in the kitchen comforting Neive. Her bare feet tapping across the tiles. She’d be wearing cute little shorts and my shirt, so big on her it would hang off one shoulder, her freckled angel face surrounded by her fire-red curls.
She would listen to me as I went through the chaos in my brain and help me pick it apart. Reilly would know what to do. She has a level head and is empathetic towards others. She would put Neive first and find a way to make MJ happy at the same time. Then she would come into my office, and I would lay her across my desk and thank her with my head between her thighs.
My fantasy is interrupted by Claire bursting through the door. She normally knocks, so this uncharacteristic display of worry concerns me. She scans the office, fear sketched on her face, hand on her chest and a wash of tears in her eyes.
“I can’t find Neive.” Her voice is laced with horror.
“What do you mean?” I’m on my feet, dread racing through me.
“I went to see if she wanted to help me with dinner prep. But I can’t find her. She’s not outside. She’s not in the basement. She’s not in here!” She flaps her arms out to prove her point.
“Jeeves!” I yell, but there’s no need as he’s already striding through the door, iPad in hand, phone at his ear. Already in action.
We’ve had attempted break-ins in the past – not when Neive has lived here – and my security has increased tenfold since then. It still doesn’t stop my brain going to the worst-casescenario immediately.
“Elton,” Jeeves says, “I’ve already checked the cameras. She slipped through the back gate a couple of hours ago with a rather full backpack. I’m on the phone with a contact who can provide extra help.” He nods at me slowly, telling me his contact isn’t exactly the police. I nod back at him, giving the go-ahead to do whatever he needs to do to find her. He walks out, still talking on the phone, barking orders about hacking into CCTV.
My grip is tight on my phone as I try to call Neive. If she’s running away, she probably won’t answer, but I can’t come up with anything else right now.
“Elton,” Jeeves says, coming back into the room, “she got an Uber from the bottom of Knight Street. I’m getting into her phone now, and we should have a location shortly.” I try her phone again. And text her.
Call me, Neive, I just want to know you’re okay.
Claire is in tears, so I send her out of the office to see if Neive left a note or anything in her room. I can’t think clearly with her in here, breaking down.
I can’t believe she ran away. She’s never left this house without telling me what her plans are. And never alone. Me or Jeeves are always with her. How would she even know how to get an Uber? She’s thirteen! I blame the internet. And me. I really blame myself right now.
“She got the Uber to Bournemouth centre near Chancy Road, which is where …”
“Sunshine Bakery is.” I grab my phone to make the call just as her name pops up. Reilly, she’s calling me. I answer, my hands shaking.
“She’s here, Elton. She’s upset, but she’s safe.” I drop onto the sofa, and my head hangs. My shoulders loosen, and I feel the sting of tears in the back of my eyes.She’s safe.
“I’m bringing her home. But I want to warn you she’s very vulnerable, so if you’re mad, which I’m sure you are, you need to hold it. She needs support right now.”
“I know. I’m over mad. I’m just so relieved she’s okay. I’ll come get her.”
“No, I’ll bring her home to you.” Reilly is firm, which puts me more on edge.
Neive chose Reilly over me. Even she knows the woman is the voice of reason.
“And Elton, me and you need to have a conversation as well.” Oh, she sounds mad at me.
SIXTEEN
Reilly – An Hour Earlier
Another day, another eight hours slaving for someone else. Another batch of cookies, another birthday cake order, another twelve doughnuts filled with jam. And another day where I fight my desire for Elton.
I avoid asking Neive about him, but she brings him up at every opportunity, constantly making questioning glances every time she mentions his name. She is good at a lot of things, but subtlety is not her strong suit. She talks him up, telling me what a wonderful uncle he is. How much money he donates to charity. How he tucks her into bed every night and even ends meetings early to make sure he says goodnight to her. That one tugged at the heartstrings a lot.
The shop bell goes, and a dishevelled Neive bursts in, sobbing. I run around the counter and hold her tight until she calms down. She’s buried her face in her hands and is shaking with sorrow.
