Free Alexandra, Gone by Anna McPartlin Page B

head. “He’s really gone this time, Janey.” Then she sobbed on her sister’s shoulder until her tears ran dry.

5

“Authentic Fake”
Pillows bursting at the seams,
feathers floating like dreams,
naked on the wooden floor,
night porters banging at the door,
and we just turn the music up.
Jack L, Broken Songs
January 2008
    Although it was cold, the sky was blue and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. Jane particularly favored cold dry days, and they were so few and far between. She wasn’t a fan of central heating, as it made her skin itchy and dry. She liked a nip in the air and couldn’t understand when her son complained that he was cold, because she had spent so much money on clothes for him to wear and yet he had the audacity to stand in front of her in a T-shirt and boxer shorts wondering what it would take for her to put on some heat. The kitchen was warm because she had spent the morning baking. Kurt came in, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them for effect.
    “Put on a sweater and jeans,” she said with her back to him.
    “Who’s coming?” he asked, ignoring her and putting on the kettle.
    “Tom and Leslie.”
    “Oh them.” He made a face.
    “‘Oh them,’” she repeated, amused. “What’s wrong with them?”
    “He’s haunted and she’s a bit of a freak,” he said, spooning coffee into a cup. “Oh, and Gran thinks he’s a murderer.”
    “Oh for God’s sake, stop listening to that twisted woman!”
    “Well, you can’t say it hasn’t crossed your mind.”
    “I can say it hasn’t crossed my mind,” she replied. “Alexandra disappeared when Tom was at work, and he has witnesses.”
    “So it has crossed your mind, but you’re satisfied with his alibi.” Kurt pointed his spoon at his mother.
    “Fine.” She put her hands up. “I’m satisfied by his alibi.”
    “Lots of people have good alibis, and then those alibis turn out to be crap.”
    “Kurt,” Jane said, “please stop calling Mammy’s new friend a murderer.”
    Kurt laughed a little. “Okay, but be careful—you don’t want to be a Nicky Pelley to his Joe O’Reilly.” He poured boiling water into the cup and then gripped it tightly. “God, Mum, it’s freezing in here.”
    He went to his room to sit at his computer with his duvet strategically wrapped around his body and arms while his hands remained uncovered and unencumbered. Jane remained in the kitchen cleaning the spilled coffee grounds from the counter while keeping an eye on the oven and clock.
    This would be the third time Leslie and Tom had come to her house to discuss their project’s progress. Elle had been there both times before, but she was taking her breakup with Vincent pretty hard and so when Jane spotted her GONE FISHING sign on her door earlier that morning, she knew it meant that Elle might be gone a week or a month. She wasn’t sure how she was going to break this news to Tom.
    Tom had become incredibly excited at the last meeting when Elle had revealed the painting she had done of Alexandra. He had previously given Elle a box of photos of his wife, and she’d gone through all of Jane’s from when Alexandra was younger, and after spending a week looking at the woman’s face, she spent another week working on capturing it. According to Tom, Jane, and even Leslie, she had done so beautifully.
    “I made her look sad,” Elle said. “I hope you don’t mind because I know she is a happy sort, but I think she needed to look sad.”
    “I don’t mind—she’s beautiful,” Tom said, staring at the painting that leaned against Jane’s kitchen wall. “How did you do that? How did you make her look lost?”
    Elle stared at the face she had come to know so well and hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know.”
    Tom bit the side of his mouth so hard there was an indent in his cheek. He nodded and looked at Elle. “You’re incredible.”
    Elle loved it when people complimented her. She’d blush and say she hated it, but her heart would