Believing the Lie - Elizabeth George [226]
Manette said to her, “I phoned. Did you not hear it, Niamh?”
She fluttered her fingers in a pooh-pooh gesture. “I never answer the phone when Charlie’s here,” she said. “Would you? In my position?”
“I’m not sure. Which one is your position? Oh, never mind. I don’t care to know. Yes, I’d answer the phone if I heard the message and the message was about my son.”
Niamh was at the worktop, picking up the takeaway cartons, inspecting them for remains that were salvageable. “What about Tim?” she asked.
Manette felt Freddie come into the kitchen behind her. She moved to one side to give him room. She glanced at him. He stood with his arms crossed inspecting the mess. Freddie wasn’t big on the pickings of daily life being left round to clutter up a place.
Manette gave Niamh the story in brief. One missing son, two days truant from school. “Has he been here?” she finished, fairly sure of the answer.
“Not that I know of,” Niamh said. “I haven’t been home every moment. I suppose he could have come and gone.”
“We’d like to check,” Freddie said.
“Why? D’you think he’s under a bed? Do you think I’m hiding him from you?”
“We think he might be hiding from you,” Manette put in. “And who could blame him? Let’s be honest, Niamh. There’s a limit to what life can ask one boy to endure, and I expect he’s reached his.”
“What, exactly, are you saying?”
“I think you know very well. And with what you’ve been up to— ”
Freddie touched her arm briefly to halt her words. He said reasonably, “Tim might have slipped into the house while you were sleeping. He could be in the garage as well. D’you mind awfully if we have a look? It’ll just take a moment and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
Niamh’s expression said she’d have liked to carry the conversation further, but Manette knew that doing so would lead them in the single direction Niamh would want to go. Ian’s sins against her and against the family constituted the broken record of her life, and she had no wish to repair it. No matter Charlie Wilcox and his Chinese takeaway. Niamh would never get beyond Ian’s betrayal because she had no wish to do so.
She said, “Do as you like, Freddie,” and turned her back to begin putting the kitchen in order.
Searching the house was the business of less than five minutes. It was small, and upstairs there were three bedrooms and a bathroom. Tim would hardly have hidden himself in his mother’s room, since doing so would have risked having to listen to Niamh’s lovemaking, likely to be an acoustically enthusiastic affair. That left his room and Gracie’s room. Manette took these on as Freddie did the honours with Niamh’s garage.
They met back in the sitting room. They shook their heads. Time to move to another location. But Manette felt that she couldn’t do so without a final word with Tim’s mother. Niamh emerged from the kitchen with a cup of coffee. She made no offer of the like to her unwanted visitors. All to the good, Manette thought, as she didn’t want to remain any longer than it would take to say what needed to be said.
This was, “It’s time for the children to come home. You’ve made your point, Niamh, and there’s really no reason to take it further.”
Niamh said, “Oh dear,” and went to a chair, beneath which something had been shoved. She brought it out and shot them a coy smile. “Charlie will have his games,” she said.
Manette saw it was a sex toy, a vibrator by the looks of it, complete with various attachments in various shapes that lay on the floor as well. Niamh scooped these up and placed them along with the vibrator on the coffee table. She said, “What point are you talking about, Manette?”
“You know very well what point I’m talking about. It’s the same point that sent you on