Read Online Unforgotten by Clare Francis - Free Book Online Page B

honest gaze, the lovely smile – and he found himself smiling back, it was impossible not to. Afterwards, he always maintained that everything was decided there and then. In fact it was a moment later, when Peter Askew took him over and introduced her as his daughter Lizzie. As they shook hands it struck Hugh with absolute clarity that this was the one, thesearch was over, he need look no further. Lizzie liked to say it took her quite a bit longer, at least five minutes, because she didn’t want to seem fast. The reality was a little less straightforward. There was a boyfriend on the scene, and Hugh had the disadvantage of living in London. It took five weekends and a lot of rail travel to see the boyfriend off, and another three months before Lizzie agreed to marry him. Then, his training over, he landed the job at Dimmocks and they set up home together in a flat in Clifton.
    Why had he chosen that particular moment to go out onto the terrace? Ten minutes earlier and Lizzie and her father would still have been in the bar, finishing their coffee. Five minutes later and they’d have been in their car driving away. He didn’t believe in fate or any of that stuff, but he believed in luck, and, most important of all, in being thankful when it came his way.
    When he got downstairs Lizzie was at the hob, tipping ingredients into a pan. She said, ‘I thought we might text Charlie tonight.’
    ‘Yes?’ He pulled some Merlot from the rack and set two glasses on the worktop.
    ‘But I couldn’t decide what to say.’
    Keeping in touch with Charlie was a delicate balance. Too many messages and there was a risk he might feel suffocated; too few and his confidence, always brittle, might falter at a critical moment, such as when he was being offered a joint, which for him was only ever one puff away from all the other so-called recreational drugs that sent him off the rails.
    ‘What about his plans for the Christmas holidays?’ Hugh said.
    ‘Well, he’ll be here most of the time.’
    He put her glass on the worktop beside her. ‘News then?’
    She threw him an amused look. ‘Since when did we have any news that was remotely interesting to the children?’
    He went through a little pantomime of the thinking man perplexed, brow furrowed, eyes hunting around as if for ideas. ‘Parents planning New Year break in sun?’
    She laughed. ‘Like I said – nothing that would be of the slightest interest.’
    Hugh thought fleetingly of the hooded figure in the garden. That was news all right, but not the kind that Charlie needed just at the moment. ‘How about asking how the NA meetings are going?’ Charlie was meant to attend Narcotics Anonymous every day and counselling twice a week.
    Reaching for her wine, Lizzie leant back against the counter. ‘You don’t think he’d see that as a lack of trust?’
    ‘But it’s meant to be part of the deal, Lizzie. That we’re open about these things, that we don’t do any more pussyfooting around.’ This lesson had been drummed into them at the rehab centre’s family sessions, along with the importance of rules and honesty and tough love.
    She was nodding slowly, as if to persuade herself to his point of view. ‘How would we word it though?’
    ‘Just ask him how the meetings are going.’
    She said proudly, ‘He’s done so well to get this far.’
    ‘He’s done very well.’
    ‘It’s almost six months now.’
    ‘Well, there’s your message, isn’t it?’ Hugh raised his glass to the idea. ‘Let’s congratulate him on however many days it is.’
    ‘You don’t think that would make him feel pressurised?’
    She was right, of course. It would sound as though they were ticking off the days on a huge wall calendar. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘What about, Is it six months yet? We want to celebrate with you .’
    ‘Mmm. I’m not sure celebrate’s quite the right word . . . And I think we should get away from questions that need answers.’
    ‘Okay. What about So proud of