Conrad & Eleanor Read Free Page B

sleep.’
    â€˜I think he’s fine, love. I think we’ll hear from him tomorrow.’
    Cara steps back, shaking her head, raking a sleeve across her wet face. ‘I’m going to Munich.’
    â€˜That’s silly, that won’t —’
    Cara moves along the hall to the kitchen. ‘I’ve booked it, 10.15 tomorrow, but I need to borrow some money.’
    El trails after her. ‘I’ll make us a milky drink.’
    â€˜I don’t want one. I feel sick.’
    â€˜Cara, you’re in no shape to go haring off —’
    â€˜He’s still there, I can feel it, he’s in a hospital or prison or – or kidnapped, he’s there, he needs help.’
    Paul barges into the kitchen. ‘Thanks for waking us up.’ He opens the fridge and glares at the contents then slams it shut.
    â€˜What are you looking for?’ asks El.
    â€˜Something to drink.’
    â€˜I’m making cocoa.’
    â€˜Not that kind of drink.’
    Cara persists. ‘If it was one of us he’d already be there, he’d be the first —’
    If it was one of the kids, he would. He’d be at it like a terrier digging up the dirt. If it was Eleanor herself ? She thinks not. ‘You can’t even speak German.’
    â€˜I can go to the hotel. The conference centre. They’ll speak English.’
    â€˜I’m going to ring them in the morning, there’s no point —’
    â€˜He’s there. I can sense it, OK? And when I arrive I’ll know what to do. I’ve got to follow my instincts.’
    â€˜With her supernatural powers, Cara Evanson confounds —’
    â€˜Shut up, Paul.’
    â€˜Shut up yourself, you loony.’
    â€˜Don’t tell me to shut up, you bastard.’
    â€˜Please,’ says Eleanor automatically. They fall silent. ‘Why did you say kidnap ?’
    â€˜He could be kidnapped for money.’
    â€˜Or by animal rights people,’ offers Paul. ‘They might have been targeting the conference.’
    â€˜He’s not important enough,’ says El. ‘Anyway, there’s no ransom demand.’
    â€˜Yet,’ says Cara. ‘You don’t know.’
    â€˜We should tell the police.’ Paul’s contribution.
    â€˜You shouldn’t go on your own. And it doesn’t make sense for me to —’
    â€˜I want to go on my own.’
    â€˜Where are you staying?’
    â€˜His hotel, if I can. Or somewhere near.’
    â€˜We’ll book you a hotel in the morning. One missing person is enough.’
    â€˜Can you drive me to the airport?’
    This is pure Conrad. The children are grown up but they still rely on him to ferry them to station and airport. ‘I’ll pay the taxi.’
    Paul has unearthed a bottle of brandy last used to light a Christmas pudding. He’s filling a tumbler. ‘I’ll have some, please,’ says El. If only to stop him drinking the lot.
    Eventually El heads upstairs, and sets her alarm for 6, by now four and a half hours away. She needs to sleep. But finds herself pulling open Con’s drawers in the big chest they share. His clothes are all there; he can’t have taken more than a couple of pairs of underpants and socks, maybe a T shirt. In the wardrobe his shirts hang in an accusing row. He’s got too many, so certainly two or three could be missing. But he’s not taken enough clothes to last five days. All his underpants look strangely new. She thinks of him as wearing black Marks and Sparks, but these are blue and green, there’s even red – Calvin Klein. Why d’you get new underwear? She closes the drawer carefully, silently.
    If the woman was pregnant. She’ll be younger, obviously. If she was pregnant, he’d leave.
    This time contempt – for both Con and herself – tempers the pain. She needs to feel the pain, to bite down on it like an aching tooth, to remind