The list of possibilities was endless. A car accident. The lake. Surely Edward couldn’t be so irresponsible as to take Isaac out on the lake—not after what had happened at the weekend. She couldn’t think about that any more; it was making her feel sick. Peter’s face flipped up into the void that not thinking about a freak accident had left. Could he have taken Isaac? Perhaps Edward was out looking for him?
She was being alarmist. They were probably out somewhere together. But Edward was normally so responsible. Charlotte couldn’t imagine that he’d possibly become as involved with a game of football as he did on a day to day basis with his piles of papers and the intricate problems that his patients posed.
One of them had been taken ill. Perhaps she should call the local hospital. But wouldn’t Edward have called? Left a message for her on his own home phone if he couldn’t remember her mobile number? She checked the answering machine again. Nothing.
Where were they?
* * *
Edward had hoisted Isaac up on to his shoulders, was striding out as fast as he could without dislodging the boy from his perch. He should have left a note for Charlotte, telling her where they were. Or remembered to bring his mobile with him. That would have solved the problem. It was too late now. All he could do was hope that she wasn’t worrying about Isaac.
He loped up the drive, gravel scrunching beneath his feet. There was no opportunity to pull his keys out of his pocket because the front door flew open. He could see from the way she rubbed her hand across her face that Charlotte was upset, but by the time he reached her she seemed to have regained some of her composure.
‘Isaac! How was your day, sweetie?’ Her eyes were red, but she was smiling, trying to pretend to Isaac that nothing was the matter. He let Isaac down and the boy ran to her to give her a hug.
‘We had a brilliant time, Mum. We’ve been skimming stones. We’ve got a special method.’
Her gaze flipped up towards Edward at the mention of the special method and her lips pursed. Before he had a chance to apologise she was smiling at Isaac again.
‘That’s great. You’re going to have to show me how you do that.’
‘We’ve got a piece of flint, too.’ Isaac twisted his face up towards Edward. ‘Edward’s going to make it into an axe.’
Right now, putting an axe anywhere within Charlotte’s reach might not be such a good idea. She shot him another glare, and Edward put his hands into his pockets. He didn’t particularly want to go into the house, or to be anywhere near her at the moment. Generally speaking, keeping out of the way until it all blew over was his preferred modus operandi in these situations.
‘What’s for tea, Mum?’
‘Wait and see. Go inside, now, and take your coat off.’ She stood aside as Isaac ran past her and into the house, then directed her gaze at Edward.
He already had his car keys in his hand, and had pressed the remote to unlock the doors. She stood, arms folded, in the doorway. ‘And where do you think you’re going?’
Nowhere. Anywhere. ‘I’ve...um...got to pick something up from the hospital.’
‘Something important, no doubt?’
‘I guess it must be.’ He turned towards the car and heard the safety catch on the front door flip. Felt her hand catch in the crook of his arm, spinning him round.
‘Afraid?’
‘Yep. Terrified.’
He faced her at last. She was trembling with an emotion that he found hard to identify. A cocktail, maybe, of all the feelings that he didn’t much want to think about at the moment.
‘And running’s the best option, is it?’
‘I’d prefer to call it a tactical retreat.’
‘Call it whatever you like.’
Her chin jutted provocatively. Eyes golden in the early evening sunshine. Her hair was slightly mussed, as if she had dragged it out of the neat knot that she usually wore it in for work and not bothered to comb it.
‘Look. You’re angry...’ It was a very old cliché, but she was one of those people who became even more beautiful when angry. ‘I’ll let you go and see to Isaac...’ He wanted to kiss her.
‘Unless you hadn’t noticed, Isaac’s perfectly capable of switching the TV on by himself and sitting in front of it for ten minutes.’ Perfectly on cue, the sound of a children’s song washed through from the living room and Isaac’s voice joined in with the melody.
‘All the same...’
‘Don’t you dare...’