Free Conrad & Eleanor by Jane Rogers Page A

track. When he goes back into the kitchen his mother is standing at the sink staring out into the darkness. ‘Mum? You all right?’
    She does not reply.
    â€˜Do you know…’ He hesitates, the question is crass. ‘Is there – have you found a note?’
    She shakes her head then lifts the pan full of vegetables onto the cooker and fills the pan with hot water from the kettle. ‘I’ve got some chops,’ she says. Con is about to say he isn’t hungry when he realises that he is, in fact, ravenous. Let her cook; some ancient piece of received wisdom advises him that it’s better for her to be busy.
    â€˜Have you told Ailsa?’
    A quick shake of the head. He dials before giving himself time to think.
    â€˜Conrad. And to what do I owe the extraordinary honour of my brother phoning me?’
    He tells her. She begins to sob immediately. ‘Ailsa, listen. I’m with Mum. She’s pretty calm. We’re waiting for the police.’
    â€˜I’ll come.’
    â€˜Better to leave it till the morning.’
    â€˜You’re there. Both his children should be there, what do you think I am?’
    â€˜All I meant was, there’s nothing to be done tonight, and it’s a bit grim, and a long drive in the dark for you —’
    â€˜I’ll get a taxi, how d’you expect me to drive after this?’
    â€˜Ailsa, there’s nothing either of us can do until the morning.’
    â€˜How could he do that? Why?’ Renewed sobbing. ‘I can’t bear it.’
    â€˜I don’t know, I really don’t know. We’ll try and sort some stuff out in the morning.’
    She is crying noisily now and he doesn’t know if she hears him. His mother cocks an ear at the wailing coming down the phone.
    â€˜Ailsa, I’m going now, OK? We’ll talk in the morning. Bye. Goodbye.’ He puts the phone down gingerly; she will accuse him of hanging up on her but he can’t listen to that any more. Leaving his mother in the kitchen, he goes into the sitting room and calls El on the extension in there.
    â€˜He’s still hanging in the barn, El, it’s horrible. Mum seems completely disconnected.’
    â€˜Oh Con, I’m so sorry. Why not ring one of the neighbours – the Fieldings are OK, aren’t they? Couldn’t you ask Joe’s wife to sit with your mum a bit?’
    She does not understand how much this would offend his mother. Con can hear Cara bossing Dan in the background. ‘Now pick up the crayons. You have to tidy up your toys like a good girl.’ She likes to pretend Dan is a girl; she had been desperate for a little sister. A few times she has dressed his hair with her own bows and slides, which Dan has accepted blankly, and Con and El have debated the evils of gender stereotyping and whether to intervene or not. The blast of home warms Con and steadies him. ‘I’m not sure she’d appreciate Mrs Joe,’ he says. ‘I suppose I should try and talk to her. I just rang Ailsa. She does my head in.’
    â€˜D’you want me to come over? I could ask Lily to stay with the kids. I can’t get out of my morning lecture, but after that —’
    He wants her desperately but her effect upon the ugly dynamic between his mother and his sister would not be good. ‘Thanks, El. It’s OK. Just be there at the end of the phone to talk me down.’
    Her laugh, close in his ear.
    â€˜I don’t understand Mum. I don’t know if she’s even asking herself why —’
    â€˜She’ll be in shock. How long have they been married?’
    â€˜Something like forty years.’
    â€˜It’ll be like losing a limb, won’t it? She won’t believe it, she’ll have a phantom.’
    â€˜Jesus, El. I don’t know what to do.’
    â€˜Oh love, just make sure she eats and drinks. Maybe ring the police again? Then pour both of you a good slug of