“ She wished she could move on, forget about Pete. Had he just taken her for a ride for three years? Told her he loved her even though he didn’t?

Sue Lawrence is a popular novelist as well as a cookery book author. The Night He Left is published by Freight. Down to the Sea, her first historical mystery, was published by Contraband in 2019. Sue’s latest book, The Unreliable Death of Lady Grange, was published in March by Saraband.

A nn sat between her children’s beds and closed the book she had been reading.

Every time she read to her children she thought back to her own childhood.

Her mother had never read to her, nor indeed cuddled her; she could barely remember any physical contact at all.

She bent over to kiss her daughter’s forehead then put her arms round her and squeezed tight.

“Mamma, I have been thinking,” said Lizzie, releasing herself from her mother’s grasp.

“Yes, my darling?”

“You know how Alice has all these adventures? Well, surely she must have been away from her house for a long time?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she fell down the rabbit hole then so much happened to her that the people in her house – her mamma and papa – must have missed her for many days?”

“Yes, probably.”

“So, I wonder if perhaps Papa is having a big adventure, like Alice, and he will soon be back home with us once the adventure is over?”

James sighed. “You don’t understand, Lizzie, it’s just a book. Mr Carroll made it all up.”

He slithered down under his covers and pulled the sheets up to his nose.

“Lizzie, dear child, you have such a wonderful imagination. But now you must say your prayers. “Sit up please, James, and put both hands together.” There was a crash as the door was flung open and Mrs Baxter burst in, red faced and panting.

“Mrs Craig, come down the stairs at once, Donald has news!”

She gestured to Ann to draw nearer. “They’ve found a body,” Mrs Baxter hissed. “They’ve found a body in the river!”

2015

Fiona slammed the passenger door shut and turned for one last look at the village where they had lived for the past two years.

There was a low mist so she could not see the hills, only a shadowy tunnel of trees, leaves dripping with morning dew.

She waved again at Mrs C and Doug, standing at the entrance to the hotel.

Doug gave her a thumbs up and beamed.

Mrs C bent her head down and waved with both hands at Jamie who sat in the front, unsmiling.

“Wave at Mrs C, Jamie!” Fiona whispered, slipping into the car beside him.

He turned and lifted his hand, attempted a half smile, then returned to face straight ahead.

As they drove away, Fiona looked back in the mirror.

The winding road from the village up the glen was still steeped in the lingering mist.

She saw the two figures disappear into the hotel and the wooden door shut.

“So, here we go, off to stay with Granny and Pa. Excited?”

Fiona glanced at her son’s features, rigid with indignation, and put on the radio.

It was the same Radio 4 programme she had heard four weeks before when she discovered Pete had gone.

She had given up trying his mobile and had nothing back from his email.

She had spoken to the two guys he knew in Alyth who insisted they knew nothing and, strangely, she believed them.

There was one other person she was going to try once they were settled in Dundee but, until then, she had her son to consider.

The previous day had been the last day of school and she had been so proud as Jamie crossed the little stage in the hall to collect the prize for art again.

He had smiled when the teacher had given him his prize but that smile had become rare.

Morose

Ever since Pete had left, Jamie had been quiet, often morose.

She hoped that living with her parents would bring him out of himself.

When they had stayed at the house in Magdalen Yard Road for a weekend, he had loved playing with Jack next door.

Perhaps the long summer holidays would help him move on from their life up the glen.

She wished she, too, could move on, forget about Pete. Had he just taken her for a ride for three years? Told her he loved her even though he didn’t?

Did she ever really know him? She shivered as she contemplated the fact that he might be a criminal.

If you steal a car and remove £3,000 from a joint account, what else could you be hiding?

Every waking moment in the past month, she tried to go over everything he had ever said, searching for a clue about why he might have gone.

Nothing.

The only good thing about living back in Dundee, she thought, was that, once Jamie was sorted and at his new school, she could start work again.

She had missed going out and doing something for herself.

There had been no chance of finding work as an art curator in or near Glenisla.

However, in Dundee, with the new V&A opening in a couple of years just along the waterfront, she had hopes of a proper job.

Besides everything else that was going on, she needed the money.

Fiona slowed the car down as they approached the ring road in Dundee. Jamie, whose eyes had been shut, feigning sleep, sat up.

“Did you remember to pack my skateboard, Mum?” “Of course.” She peered into the mirror. “In fact, I can see it poking up above the plants in the back.”

“Good, I want to show Jack next door. Will he be at his house today?”

“No idea, but Granny will know.”

Forlorn

Jamie’s face no longer wore the forlorn look of earlier. Hopefully things were going to turn out fine, she thought, as she turned left along Magdalen Yard Road.

She parked the car and followed Jamie’s gaze towards the Tay, the water shimmering in the midmorning sun.

On her other side was the home where she had spent the first 20 years of her life, the sweeping driveway leading up to a solid Victorian structure.

She chuckled as she thought of a stranger’s first impression of the pediment and pillars, perhaps of a household of stately grandeur.

Inside the cold stone exterior, however, was the homespun shambles she knew and loved.

More on Monday.