Almost Lost Page 5

  A few of the people driving past waved at them, and one woman stopped her Range Rover to offer them a ride.

  “No thanks, Mrs. O’Donoghue, we’re happy walking,” Madison called. “We might need you on the way back though!”

  “I’ll look out for you!” the woman promised with a smile before pulling away. Madison explained that the woman and her husband lived further inland and ran a small organic farm.

  “There’s a shop selling their produce in town, and they sometimes have homemade fudge, too,” Madison said.

  “We’ll definitely go there,” Cassie promised.

  “Her kids are lucky. They go to boarding school in Cornwall. I wish I could do that,” Madison said.

  Cassie frowned, wondering why Madison would want to spend any time away from such a perfect life. Unless, perhaps, the divorce had left her feeling insecure and she wanted a bigger community around her.

  “Are you happy at your current school?” she asked, just in case.

  “Oh, yes, it’s great apart from that I have to study,” Madison said.

  Cassie was relieved that there didn’t seem to be a hidden problem, such as bullying.

  The shops were as quaint as she’d hoped. There were a few stores selling fishing tackle, warm clothing, and sports gear. Remembering her hands had been cold while drinking with Ryan the previous night, Cassie tried on a beautiful pair of gloves, but decided in view of her finances and her lack of available money, it would be better to wait and buy a cheaper pair.

  The smell of baking bread drew them across the road to a cake shop. After some discussion with the children, she bought a sourdough loaf and a pecan pie to take home.

  The only disappointment of the morning was the sweet shop.

  When Madison marched expectantly up to the door she stopped, looking crestfallen.

  The store was closed, with a handwritten note taped to the glass which read, “Dear Customers—we’re out of town this weekend for a family birthday! We’ll be back to serve you your favorite delicacies on Tuesday.”

  Madison sighed sadly.

  “Their daughter usually runs the shop when they’re away. I guess everyone went to this stupid party.”

  “I guess so. Never mind. We can come back next week.”

  “That’s so far away.” Head lowered, Madison turned away and Cassie bit her lip anxiously. She was desperate for this outing to be a success. She had been imagining how Ryan’s face would light up as they spoke about their happy day, and how he might look at her with gratitude, or even give her a compliment.

  “We’ll come in next week,” she repeated, knowing that this was little consolation to a nine-year-old who’d believed peppermint candy sticks were in her immediate future.

  “And we might find sweets in other shops,” she added.

  “Come on, Maddie,” Dylan said impatiently, and took her hand, marching her away from the shop. Ahead, Cassie noticed the store that Madison had told her about, owned by the woman who’d offered them a ride.

  “One last stop there, and then we decide where to have lunch,” she said.

  Thinking of healthy suppers and snacks ahead, Cassie chose a few bags of chopped vegetables, a bag of pears, and some dried fruit.

  “Can we buy chestnuts?” Madison asked. “They’re delicious roasted on the fire. We did that last winter, with my mum.”

  It was the first time either of them had made mention of their mother and Cassie waited anxiously, watching Madison to see if the memory would cause her to become upset, or if this was a sign she wanted to talk about the divorce. To her relief, the young girl seemed calm.

  “Of course we can. That’s a lovely idea.” Cassie added a bag to her basket.

  “Look, there’s the fudge!”

  Madison pointed excitedly and Cassie guessed the moment was over. But having mentioned her mother once, she had broken the ice and might want to talk more about it later. Cassie reminded herself to be responsive to any signals. She didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to help either of the children through this difficult time.

  The bags were displayed on a counter near the till, together with other sweet treats. There were toffee apples, fudge, mint humbugs, small bags of Turkish delight, and even miniature candy sticks.

  “What would you like, Dylan and Madison?” she asked.

  “A toffee apple, please. And fudge, and one of those candy sticks,” Madison said.

  “A toffee apple, two candy sticks, fudge, and Turkish delight,” Dylan added.

  “I think maybe just two sweets each for you will be enough or it’ll spoil your lunch,” Cassie said, remembering that excessive sugary treats were discouraged in this family. She took two toffee apples and two packets of fudge from the display.

  “Do you think your father would like anything?” She felt a rush of warmth inside her as she spoke about Ryan.

  “He likes nuts,” Madison said, and pointed to a display of roasted cashews. “Those are his favorite.”

  Cassie added a bag to her basket and headed for the till.

  “Afternoon,” she greeted the shop assistant, a plump, blonde young lady with a name tag that read “Tina,” who smiled at her and greeted Madison by name.

  “Hello, Madison. How’s your dad? Is he out of hospital yet?”

  Cassie glanced in concern at Madison. Was this something she hadn’t been told about? But Madison was frowning, confused.

  “He hasn’t been in hospital.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood. When he was last here, he said—” Tina began.

  Madison interrupted her, staring at the cashier curiously as she rang up the purchases.

  “You’ve got fat.”

  Horrified by the tactlessness of this comment, Cassie felt her face going as crimson as Tina’s was doing.

  “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled in apology.

  “That’s all right,”

  Cassie saw Tina looked crestfallen at the comment. What had gotten into Madison? Had she never been taught not to say such things? Was she too young to realize how hurtful those words were?

  Perceiving that no more apologies would redeem the situation, she grabbed her change and hustled the young girl out of the shop before she could think of anything else tactless and personal to announce.

  “It’s not polite to say things like that,” she explained, when they were out of earshot.

  “Why?” Madison asked. “It’s the truth. She’s much fatter than when I saw her in the August holidays.”

  “It’s always better not to say anything if you notice something like that, especially if other people are listening. She might have a—a glandular problem or be taking medication that makes her fat, like cortisone. Or she could be expecting a baby and not want anyone to know yet.”

  She glanced at Dylan on her left, to see if he was listening, but he was rummaging in his pockets and seemed preoccupied.

  Madison frowned as she thought this over.

  “OK,” she said. “I’ll remember for next time.”

  Cassie let out a deep breath of relief that her logic had been understood.

  “Would you like a toffee apple?”

  Cassie passed Madison her toffee apple, which she put into her pocket, and handed the other to Dylan. But when she gave it to him, he waved it away.

  Looking at him in disbelief, Cassie saw he was unwrapping one of the candy sticks from the store they’d just visited.

  “Dylan—” she began.

  “Ah, no, I wanted one of those,” Madison complained.

  “I got you one.” Dylan reached into the deep pocket of his coat and to Cassie’s horror, pulled out several more.

  “Here,” he said, and passed her one.

  “Dylan!” Cassie felt suddenly short of breath and her voice sounded high and stressed. Her mind was racing as she struggled to take in what had just happened. Had she misread the situation?

  No. There was no way Dylan could have bought the candy. After Madison’s emb
arrassing comment, she’d hustled them straight out of the store. There hadn’t been time for Dylan to have paid, especially since the assistant hadn’t been very adept at working the old-fashioned till.

  “Yeah?” he asked, looking at her inquiringly, and Cassie felt chilled by the fact that there was no trace of emotion in his pale blue eyes.

  “I think—I think you might have forgotten to pay for that.”

  “I didn’t pay,” he said casually.

  Cassie stared at him, shocked beyond words.

  Dylan had just coolly admitted to having shoplifted goods.

  She’d never imagined that Ryan’s son would do such a thing. This was beyond the scope of her experience and she was at a loss to know how she should react. She felt shaken that her impression of a perfect family, which she’d believed in, was far from reality. How could she have been so wrong?

  Ryan’s son had just committed a criminal act. Worse still, he was showing no remorse, no shame, nor even any sign that he understood the enormity of his action. He stared back at her calmly, seeming unconcerned by what he had done.

  CHAPTER SIX

  While Cassie stood, frozen in shock and clueless as to how she should handle Dylan’s theft, she realized that Madison had already made up her mind.

  “I’m not eating stolen goods,” the young girl announced. “You can have it back.”

  She held out the candy stick to Dylan.

  “Why are you giving it back? I took it for you because you wanted a candy stick, and the first shop didn’t have them, and then Cassie was being stingy and wouldn’t buy you one.”

  Dylan spoke in aggrieved tones, as if he’d expected thanks for saving the day.

  “Yes, but I don’t want a stolen one.”

  Shoving it into his hand, Madison folded her arms.

  “If you don’t take it, I won’t offer it again.”

  “I said no.”

  Chin jutted, Madison marched away.

  “You’re with me or you’re against me. You know what Mum always says,” Dylan shouted after her. With worry surging inside her at another mention of their mother, Cassie detected more than a hint of menace in his tone.

  “OK, enough now.”

  In a few fast steps, Cassie grabbed Madison’s arm and turned her around, bringing her back so that they all stood facing each other on the cobbled sidewalk. She felt cold with dread. The situation was spiraling out of control, the children were starting to fight, and she hadn’t even addressed the issue of the theft. No matter how traumatized they were, or what emotions they were suppressing, this was a criminal act.

  She was all the more appalled that this store belonged to someone who was friendly with the family. The owner had even offered them a ride to town! You shouldn’t steal from a person who’d offered you a ride. Well, you shouldn’t steal from anybody, but particularly not from a woman who had generously tried to help that very morning.

  “Let’s go and sit down.”

  There was a tearoom on her left which looked full, but, spotting a couple getting up from a booth, she hustled the children to the door.

  A minute later they were seated in the warm interior that smelled deliciously of coffee and crisp, buttery pastry.

  Cassie stared down at the menu, feeling helpless, because every second that passed was proving to the children that she had no idea how to handle this.

  Ideally, she supposed Dylan should be made to go back in and pay for what he’d taken, but what if he refused? She also wasn’t clear what the penalties were for shoplifting here in the UK. He might end up in trouble if the store policy dictated that the clerk had to report it to the police.

  Then Cassie thought back to the timeline of events and realized there might be a different perspective.

  She remembered that Madison had mentioned roasting chestnuts with their mother just before Dylan had stolen the sweets. Perhaps this quiet boy had heard his sister’s words and been reminded of the trauma the family had been through.

  He might have been acting out his repressed emotions over the divorce by deliberately doing something forbidden. The more Cassie thought about it, the more the explanation made sense.

  In which case, it would be better to handle this in a more sensitive way.

  She glanced at Dylan, who was paging through his menu, looking completely unconcerned.

  Madison also seemed to have gotten over her flare-up of temper. Having refused the stolen sweet and given Dylan a piece of her mind, the matter seemed to have been handled to her satisfaction. She was now engrossed in reading the descriptions of the various milkshakes.

  “All right,” Cassie said. “Dylan, please give me all the sweets you took. Clean out your pockets.”

  Dylan rummaged in his jacket and took out four candy sticks and a packet of Turkish delight.

  Cassie stared down at the small pile.

  He hadn’t taken a lot. This wasn’t theft on a grand scale. It was the fact he’d taken them at all that was the problem—and that he didn’t think it was wrong.

  “I’m going to confiscate those sweets because it’s not right to take something without paying. That shop assistant could get into trouble if the money in the till doesn’t match up with the stock. And you could have landed in bigger trouble. All these stores have cameras.”

  “OK,” he said, looking bored.

  “I’m going to have to tell your father, and we’ll see what he decides to do. Please don’t do this again, no matter how much you’re trying to help, or how unfair you think the world is being to you, or how upset you are feeling about family issues. It could lead to serious consequences. Understand?”

  She took the sweets and stashed them in her purse.

  Watching the children, she saw that Madison, who didn’t need the warning, was looking far more worried than Dylan was. He was staring at her with what she could only interpret as puzzlement. He gave a small nod, and she guessed that was all she was going to get.

  She’d done what she could. All she could do now was pass the information on to Ryan and let him take it further.

  “Are you thinking of a milkshake, Madison?” she asked.

  “You can’t go wrong with chocolate,” Dylan advised, and just like that, the tension was broken and they were back to normal again.

  Cassie was relieved beyond measure that she’d been able to manage the situation. She realized her hands were shaking and she put them under the table so the children wouldn’t see.

  She’d always avoided fights because it brought back memories of the times when she’d been an unwilling, helpless participant. She recalled fragmented scenes of bellowing voices and screams of pure rage. Smashing of dishes—hiding under the dining room table, she’d felt the shards sting her hands and face.

  Given the choice, in any fight, she usually ended up doing the equivalent of hiding away.

  Now, she was glad that she’d managed to assert her authority calmly but firmly, and that the day hadn’t turned into a disaster as a result.

  The tearoom manager hurried over to take their orders and Cassie started to realize how small this town was, because she also knew the family.

  “Hello, Dylan and Madison. How are your parents?”

  Cassie cringed, realizing the manager obviously didn’t know the latest news, and she hadn’t discussed with Ryan what she should say. As she was fumbling for the correct words, Dylan spoke.

  “They’re fine, thank you, Martha.”

  Cassie was grateful for Dylan’s brief response, although she was surprised by how normal he’d sounded. She had thought he and Madison would be upset by the mention of their parents. Perhaps Ryan had told them not to discuss it if people didn’t know. That was probably the reason, she decided, especially since the woman seemed to be in a rush and the question had only been a polite formality.

  “Hello, Martha. I’m Cassie Vale,” she said.

  “You sound like you’re from America. Are you working for the Ellises?”

  Again, Cassie
winced at their collective mention.

  “Just helping out,” she said, remembering that despite her informal agreement with Ryan, she needed to be careful.

  “So difficult to find good help. We’re very short-staffed at this time. One of our waitresses was deported yesterday, due to not having the correct paperwork.”

  She glanced at Cassie, who looked down hurriedly. What did the woman mean by this? Did she suspect from Cassie’s accent that she didn’t have a working visa?

  Was this a hint that authorities in the neighborhood were clamping down?

  Quickly, she and the children placed their orders and to Cassie’s relief, the manager hurried away.

  A short while later, a stressed-looking waitress, who was obviously a local, brought them their pies and chips.

  Cassie didn’t want to linger over her food and risk another round of chitchat, as the restaurant was starting to empty out. As soon as they’d finished, she went up to the front desk and paid.

  Leaving the tearoom, they walked back the way they had come. They stopped off at a pet supplies store where she bought more food for Dylan’s fish, which he told her were named Orange and Lemon, and a bag of bedding for his rabbit, Benjamin Bunny.

  As they were heading toward the bus stop, Cassie heard music and noticed a crowd of people had gathered in the cobblestone town square.

  “What do you think they’re doing?” Madison noticed the activity at the same moment Cassie’s head turned.

  “Can we have a look, Cassie?” Dylan asked.

  They headed across the road to find that there was a pop-up entertainment show in progress.

  In the north corner of the square, a three-piece live band was playing. In the opposite corner, an artist was creating balloon animals. Already a line of parents with young children had formed.

  In the center, a magician, formally dressed in a smart suit with a top hat, was performing tricks.

  “Oh, wow. I absolutely love magic tricks,” Madison breathed.

  “Me, too,” Dylan agreed. “I would like to study it. I want to know how it works.”

  Madison rolled her eyes.