Chapter Three
Mrs. Selena Bolden, a social worker, came the same day. She was middle-aged and hearty, with an uncomfortable likeness to a headmistress. As soon as she began to speak, Gavin’s heart sank. Mrs. Bolden had known Liz and Tony well, liked them and had moreover been fed the story of how Gavin had tried to “kidnap” Peter six years ago.
“It would be most unfortunate if there were any similar, er, incident,” she observed, looking at him closely.
Gavin controlled his temper and said calmly, “All I want to do is get to know my son again, so I’m going to live right here in my own house. At least you can’t prevent me from doing that.”
“Actually, I can,” she said smugly. “I can apply for a court order preventing you from setting foot on these premises, and I could have one by this afternoon.”
“What? My own house? Are you mad?”
“Whoever’s house it is, the court would place the interests of the child first. Your previous attempt at kidnapping would be taken into account—”
“I keep telling you I did not try to kidnap my son—”
“Naturally you would say that, but the attempt is on the official record.”
For the first time Gavin knew real fear. Everything he’d been so certain of was slipping away from him with terrible inevitability. Whatever the rights of the situation, it seemed that Norah Ackroyd had the power on her side, and he had no doubt she would use that power to thwart him.
But then, unbelievably, he heard her say, “Actually, Selena, I think Mr. Hunter is telling the truth.” Gavin stared at her as she went on, “I saw what happened, and I don’t think he would have really snatched Peter. Liz was hysterical and upset, and I believe she read too much into it.”
Mrs. Bolden looked skeptical. “According to the official record,” she said, like someone quoting the bible, “the little boy confirmed it.”
“He confirmed that his father asked him to go with him, yes,” Norah agreed. “But later he told me that Mr. Hunter had abandoned the idea when Peter made it clear he wanted to be with his mother. I tried to tell Liz, but she insisted I’d misunderstood. I know that I didn’t.”
“Are you saying you don’t want me to get a court order?” Mrs. Bolden demanded, sounding disappointed.
“That’s right. I don’t. As you say, Peter’s interests must come first, and right now none of us knows what’s best for him. As far as I’m concerned, Mr. Hunter can stay here. I’ll guarantee his behavior.”
“Very well. I’ll take your word for the moment.” She eyed Gavin disapprovingly. “But no attempt must be made to remove Peter. Do I have your word on that?”
“Certainly,” he said grimly.
Norah showed her out while Gavin tried to force himself to calm down. On the one hand he was possessed by sheer speechless outrage at Norah’s impertinence at guaranteeing his behavior. But he knew that he owed everything to her generous intervention. In fact he owed her his total gratitude, and that was almost the worst thing of all.
When she returned he said with difficulty, “Thank you for speaking up for me. It wasn’t what I expected.”
“I never believed that kidnap story. You had ample chance to make off with Peter, but you didn’t.”
“But you could have had me thrown out of the house,” he said bewildered. “Why pass up your advantage?”
He came from a world where only a fool let an opportunity slip, and this woman wasn’t a fool. That was clear from the shrewd intelligence in her eyes as they surveyed him, their gleam showing that she fully understood his mystification.
“Maybe I was wrong to pass it up,” she said. “We’ll just have to see how things work out.”
“I gave my word and I’ll keep it. All I want is to rebuild my relationship with Peter.”
“Well, I’ve given you the chance to do that,” she pointed out.
“But I wish you’d tell me—why did you do it?”
“Because getting to know you again might be the best thing for him.”
“I know that’s what you told that woman but—”
She sighed. “Look, Hunter, the reason I gave was the true reason. I suppose in your sphere that’s unheard of.”
“Pretty well,” he admitted.
“Well, welcome back to the real world.”
“Real world? You call this—this Norah’s Ark—the real world?”
“It’s a sight more real than a businessman’s fantasyland, where only figures on paper matter and the people they represent are treated as irrelevancies—or even nuisances.”
Gavin took a deep breath. “I don’t want to quarrel with you. You did me a favor, and I’m grateful. As you say, I have to get to know my son again, so if you don’t mind I’m going to start now. Where is he?”
“Outside with the animals.”
Gavin strode out of the house and through the grounds, confused by the profusion of large wire pens. He came across a woman mashing up feed. She was about sixty, very fat and puffing. Her grey hair was cut short and on her feet she wore a pair of ancient men’s shoes. She eyed Gavin with a caution that revealed she’d been warned about him, but her manner was reasonably friendly. “I’m Iris,” she told him. “I help Norah out with the animals.”
He introduced himself politely and said, “I’m looking for Peter.”
“He was here a moment ago, but he went off to do something else. Try down that path.”
He followed her directions. As he pushed through a clump of hedges he could hear the sea in the distance, but there was no sign of Peter, just a young man in torn jeans and shirt, with his long hair held in a ponytail. He peered at Gavin from within a huge bird cage. A tall tree dominated the center of the cage and the young man was nearly at the top, making some repair, hanging by his knees like a trapeze artist. “Help you?” he called.
“Have you seen a boy of about ten?” Gavin called back.
“He came through here a while back, but he didn’t stop. He was running to somewhere.”
Gavin thanked him and went on. Another few yards brought him to the perimeter fence. He turned left and began to make his way back until he came to a large wire pen with a wooden hut at the rear. There was no sign of whichever animal lived here, but a scuffling inside the hut told him that there was an occupant. He was about to pass on when he heard more scuffling, followed by a soft, urgent, “Ssshh!”
He froze as the truth hit him. His son was hiding in that hut. But not from him, surely? Not from his own father?
“Peter,” he called. “Peter.”
He listened. There wasn’t another sound, but despite the silence he knew Peter was in there. And now he had to face it. Peter was avoiding him. Tight-lipped, he stormed back to the house. “What in God’s name have you told my son to make him run away from me?” he demanded when he found Norah.
“Nothing. You did it all yourself. I told you, he heard what you said about taking him away. You’ve got to reassure him about that before you can get anywhere.”
“I was trying to reassure him. I wanted to tell him what we’ve agreed, that I’m staying here with him for a while.”
“Well, he doesn’t know that. He saw you barking at me, and that’s the picture in his mind.”
“I was angry because of Liz, because her death seems so senseless.”
“I know.” Norah looked at him with sudden sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize.”