Free Missing by Susan Lewis Page B

him. She recalled how easy it had been to laugh and dream with him, how eagerly they’d talked about their future and the family they would have. They’d cherished every moment they’d spent together, and when they were apart not many hours would go by without them being in touch. The only cloud on their horizon was Kelsey’s refusal to accept her. But time would sort that out, he’d assured her, and maybe it would have, if they’d been given a chance.
    Putting down the brush she stood up and let the towel pool at her feet. Her limbs were slender and long, her hips boyishly slim while her breasts seemed too large for her delicate frame. She couldn’t help remembering how he’d adored her breasts, and how she’d come to love them too for the pleasure he’d given her with his eyes, his fingers and his mouth. No one had touched her intimately since the last time they were together, and though she often craved the release she’d always recoiled from the mere thought of being that close to anyone but him.
    Now Jacqueline had disappeared, and she knew she’d be asking too much of herself not to see it as a chance for them to be together again.

Chapter Four
    KELSEY WAS STANDING at her bedroom window, watching her father loading up the car in the courtyard below. The rain had stopped an hour ago, leaving everything gleaming like silk in the sunlight, but more clouds were starting to roll over the treetops that separated their land from the moor. A big storm was forecast for later, and strong winds, the kind of tempest that could as easily set nerves on edge as it could exhilarate the senses.
    Her eyes were drawn to a quad bike bumping down over a neighbouring field, scattering the sheep and leaving a dark trail in the grass behind it. It was the gamekeeper making his rounds, fattening up the birds ready for a shoot, and checking no poachers had ventured onto private land via the moor. She followed his progress in through one of their gates, which he diligently closed behind him before carrying on down past the lake, where he took a short cut through the woods to their neighbour’s much larger estate.
    Remembering that the ducks and geese needed feeding, she was about to turn from the window when her father spotted her and waved. She stared down at him, her eyes remaining bleak as he walked into the house, disappearing from view. For all she cared he could go away for as long as he liked – her friends were coming for the weekend, and it would be much better not to have him around.
    Going into her bathroom, she poked about in a basket full of make-up and other stuff, looking for a scrunchie to tie back her hair. Finding a blue velvet one that she’d borrowed from her mother, she stretched it between her fingers, feeling it go tighter and tighter until it almost snapped. Throwing it back, she rummaged around for another, feeling weird and restless and like she wanted to lash out with angry words, or her fists, or anything that might hurt.
    Quickly twisting her hair into an old cloth band, she slipped a gilet over her sweater and jeans and ran downstairs to the utility room where they kept the large sacks of bird food. As she scooped the grain into small feeding pails she kicked off her shoes and was just digging her feet into her wellies when her eye was caught by an old Barbour hanging on the back of the door. She stopped and stared at it, feeling a bit sick, like there was something about it that was stirring up horrible things inside her. Then she felt annoyed and frustrated. There was loads of her mother’s stuff around, so this coat was nothing special. In fact, her mother hardly ever wore it – it had only got all shabby like that because it used to belong to Grandma who loved to garden and go out hiking on the moor. She still really missed Grandma, and Grandpa, and felt mad that they’d had to die when she was only ten, but it was OK really, because actually she was fine.
    Suddenly she wanted to cry and shout