until she remembered that the wine bar opened early to serve breakfast. Maybe she could set up her office there for an hour or so. She had calls to make and meetings to set up for next week. A few of her clients were going on family holidays this week, and she had a dreadful suspicion that on their return they might be in need of urgent appointments. Unhappy relationships and holidays were not often a good match.
Ordering an almond croissant and the ubiquitous cappuccino, she settled down in the corner away from other customers so that she wouldn’t disturb them by speaking on the telephone. Not that it seemed to bother anybody else, as at least fifty per cent of people were doing something with their mobiles; texting, checking emails or tweeting no doubt.
This week hadn’t turned out in any way as Leo might have expected. Ellie was working too many hours and they’d had precious little time together, but when they were together, Ellie was prickly and distracted. Even without this morning’s scene, it had been an uncomfortable few days. And then there was the accident. Just the thought that the driver could be someone from the village had been enough to upset everyone, but now that they knew that Abbie had been abducted, there was a whole new layer of suspicion added. It felt somehow like the hours before an electric storm; the air around them was heavy and crackling with tension.
Leo was worried about the fact that in her conversations with Tom she had failed to mention what she’d discovered about Gary - that he had been out late on Friday and then lied about it. But she couldn’t say anything until she had spoken to Ellie about where she’d been that night, and God knows how she could raise that subject again. She didn’t believe that there could be any link, but what if there was? If she mentioned Gary, would it make everything collapse around her family like a house of cards? And she had the feeling that Penny had said something that should have meant more than it did. But she couldn’t catch the thought. It was like trying to remember a word or a name - it was literally there, in her head for a fleeting second, and then disappeared before it solidified.
She rested her chin on cupped hands. This was getting her nowhere. She was starting to miss the solitary silence of her own home. She loved her apartment, but it had taken so much hard work to be able to afford to live there. Even with an established practice as a life coach she’d had to spend a couple of years working in a bar at night to cover the mortgage. Situated in a renovated old warehouse, it was wonderfully spacious with high ceilings and bare brickwork. She had lived there for months with nothing much more than a mattress on the floor and a hanging rail for her clothes. But it had been worth it.
Much as she wanted to go home, though, she was starting to feel a compulsion to stay until those around her were at peace again. Whether she would be able to help with the process or not, she didn’t think she could just walk away.
The scene with Ellie this morning had left her feeling drained and empty. Since when had her sister become a glass half-empty person? That had always been Leo’s role.
She reached into her bag and pulled out her notebook and pen. Maybe some cathartic writing would help her to make sense of it.
A Single Step : the blog of Leo Harris
Listening to a different tune
Many years ago I saw a short film sequence of a little girl. She was wearing a pretty dress as she skipped down a narrow cobbled lane. The people around smiled fondly as she passed. The grainy, black and white image did nothing to detract from the happy scene, and the light summery music gave a feeling of well-being. The audience’s attention was focused entirely on the child.
Then the identical film was shown again, but this time with sinister music playing. There was a gasp from the audience. For the first time, every person in the room noticed an unsmiling man standing at the mouth of a dark alley, smoking a cigarette and watching the girl.
In spite of already knowing the ending, there was a sigh of relief when the child was reunited with her mother.
Same film. Different