The Long Call (Two Rivers #1) - Ann Cleeves Page 0,76

road and if she was out here all night, she could get hypothermia.’

They laid her on the back seat, covered her with their jackets, switched on the heater and blasted out hot air. Jen drove again back to Barnstaple, very fast, while Matthew called 999 and asked for instructions. ‘We’re to take her to A&E at the North Devon District Hospital,’ he said. ‘They’ll be waiting for us.’

Jen wanted to ask him what Christine could have meant. You came. They said that you would. Who could she have been waiting for? But there was no chance because Matthew was turning away from her, checking on their passenger, making sure she was still breathing. Then he was on the phone again. ‘Mother? Is that you?’

Jen knew this was a big deal because Matthew never spoke to his family, who belonged to a weird sect and had cast him out as an unbeliever. Matthew had told her that in a joking manner once, when she’d asked him about them. Flip, as if he hadn’t cared. But she knew that he had cared, by the way he always asked about her family, the looks of anxiety when she came into work hungover or with tales of a new, unsuitable man. He’d been thinking that wasn’t the way a good mother should behave; she should always put her children first. Wait until you’ve got kids, she’d wanted to say. They drain your energy and personality and sometimes you need time for yourself. I feel bad enough without you doing the guilt-trip thing.

Now she was driving like a maniac down these twisting, overgrown lanes, trying to listen in to the exchange between the boss and his mum, but pretending not to. Just as well she was a woman and good at multitasking. And just as well that Matthew’s mother came from the generation who thought you had to shout into a phone to make herself heard, because Jen could make out every word, both sides of the conversation.

‘We’ve found Christine,’ Matthew said. ‘I wanted to let you know.’ As if it really wasn’t a big deal, as if he hadn’t been haunted by the search since he’d realized the woman was missing.

‘Alive?’ One word. A demand and an accusation. The woman couldn’t believe that her son had succeeded in this.

‘Yes. But she’s very cold and a little confused. We’re taking her to A&E.’

‘At last!’ He wasn’t to be congratulated for finding Christine then, just blamed for not finding her sooner.

‘I thought you’d like to let Susan know.’ There was no resentment in his voice. ‘Tell her that we’ve found her daughter and she’ll be at the hospital.’

‘Yes, I can do that.’

Of course you can. You’ll get the gratitude, the vicarious praise. This was a huge gift he was giving.

Matthew’s mother was still speaking. ‘I’ll call one of the Brethren. They’ll pick her up and take her to the hospital. I can meet her there.’

There was a moment’s pause. Jen could tell that Matthew was choosing his words. ‘Don’t ask Dennis Salter to collect Susan. I don’t think that would be a very good idea. He’s too close to my investigation.’

A silence at the other end of the phone. Jen could sense that Matthew was tense, that he was expecting his mother to question his request. The hand holding the mobile was shaking slightly. But when Dorothy Venn spoke, it was to agree with him. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I can see that would probably be best.’ Another pause. ‘I’m sure we can find someone who lives closer than Lovacott to go out to Braunton to fetch Susan.’

‘I’m sure that you can.’

It seemed that the conversation was over. They’d reached the outskirts of the town. Matthew was about to switch off the phone when his mother spoke again. Two words, sharp, almost curt. ‘Thank you.’

Chapter Twenty-Three

MATTHEW LEFT JEN IN THE HOSPITAL with Christine and started back to the police station. He would have liked to stay with the woman himself, but he didn’t think Christine would remember him after all this time. She hadn’t seen him since he was a teenager and he’d just be a stranger now. A strange man, invading her predominantly female world. Jen would interact better with Susan Shapland too; her manner was easy, unthreatening. And she’d cope better with his mother. He had too much baggage to be relaxed in her presence. He’d been tempted to wait to see Dorothy; surely now she’d feel the need to be gracious, to thaw a