Page 103 of The Vanished

“So, what do we do now? And what do we tell Max? He is distraught. And he thinks we’re not trying to find Logan. Where can he be?”

Jude’s expression was thoughtful. “When we were small, our parents used to take us to Nare Head on holiday. One day, Logan and I found this abandoned bunker. We were so excited. And we were even more thrilled to discover that there was a manhole that led to a subterranean level. We were lucky not to come upon an unexploded grenade,” he said with a shake of the head.

Quinn looked at him, uncomprehending. “What does that have to do with the current situation?”

“I think that if Logan was going to hide out anywhere, it would be there.”

“You think Logan is in some bunker in Cornwall?”

Jude shrugged. “It’s the only thing I can think of. I’m going to go there tomorrow. Check it out.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t think you should leave Max,” Jude said. “Not after…”

“I wasn’t going to. We’ll take Max with us.”

“All right,” Jude said resignedly. “But what do we tell him?”

“We’ll tell him the truth, that we’re looking for Logan. We might not find him, but at least Max will know that we’re doing something to find his dad.”

Jude turned to go back inside. “I’m going to the airport to collect my phone, then I’m going to Logan’s.”

“You can stay here.”

“You have a full house, and I don’t fancy sleeping on the sofa. Besides, it will give me a chance to poke about. Maybe I’ll find something relevant. I’ll collect you at eight.” Quinn nodded, and Jude pulled her into a hug. “We’ll find him, Quinn.”

“Yes,” she replied, but she no longer believed it.

SEVENTY

DECEMBER 1923

Ravenglass

Honor

Honor stood beside her father and Jesse at the foot of the stairs and watched as Geneva finally descended. Both men looked up at her and smiled, and it wasn’t the perfunctory, absentminded smile men often gave to female relations. It was genuine admiration, even pride. What was it about Geneva that inspired such devotion? She had always been their father’s favorite, and Jesse had had eyes only for her from the moment he’d set foot inside Bellamy Hall. Rory was besotted too, and even now probably harbored hope that Geneva would change her mind and run away with him. Despite the vast differences in their upbringing, their social standing, and their views, he loved her and would bend over backwards to make her happy if she allowed it.

When Honor looked in the mirror, she saw a girl who was lovely and spirited, but she wasn’t aloof like Geneva. Was it that she gave too much away, while Geneva managed to keep everyone slightly off balance, even their father? Why were some women magnets for admiration while others were quietly overlooked? She hated giving in to jealousy, but the truth was that, even though Geneva had not chosen this path, she was still getting the better end of the bargain. She would marry their handsome cousin, inherit the family’s titles and wealth, and one day become the matriarch of the Bellamy family. Honor, meanwhile, was to be shipped off to Switzerland with Rose to be polished, as if she were a gem of the wrong size and cut and did not shine brightly enough to attract the right husband. Perhaps Rose needed polishing, but Honor thought she was perfectly fine as she was.

Her turbulent thoughts broke apart as the guests began to arrive. Douglas welcomed them warmly and introduced them to Jesse. He beamed at the younger man as though welcoming a long-lost son, and Honor supposed he was the closest thing now that his own boys were gone. Jesse was her father’s last hope, and he was clearly relieved to find that he wasn’t some rough-and-tumble yokel from the frontier towns Honor had seen in American films, like The Silent Call or The Broken Spur. That was what she had imagined when she’d first heard he had been raised in Montana. But Geneva, as usual, had luck on her side. No rough rustic for her, but a man who charmed everyone he met and made their father glow with pride.

Honor felt a little better when she spotted Rose. She loved her cousin dearly, but Rose was as determined as she was awkward. No matter how much Aunt Clarissa harangued her, Rose remained a funny duckling rather than the graceful swan her mother kept hoping for. She simply needed time, Honor thought with a generosity that surprised her. Rose would come into her own; everyone blossomed at their own pace. She had little interest in marriage and still clung to childish pursuits, like spying on the adults and eavesdropping on their conversations, just as Geneva and Honor had done together when they were little. Rose liked to know things. Perhaps it was her way of gaining a measure of control over a world in which no one ever asked for her opinion.

The gong for supper finally sounded, and the guests filed into the dining room. Jesse sat to her father’s right, Geneva to his left. Aunt Clarissa bristled as she took her place farther down the table, clearly believing she ought to be nearer her brother to demonstrate her importance. Honor did not care where she sat. She did not expect to enjoy the evening until the men had finished their brandy and cigars and rejoined the ladies in the drawing room. Then the carpet would be rolled back and Jesse’s records played on the gramophone. She could hardly wait to dance, and she felt a pang of sympathy that Rose would miss the only fun part of the evening.

Honor met Rory’s eyes across the table and smiled. His brow furrowed as he returned her gaze, but she wanted nothing more from him than a little mischief and a chance to strike back at the people who considered her inconsequential. Tonight, she would be the cat among the pigeons.

SEVENTY-ONE

Rose’s face drooped with misery when Aunt Clarissa ordered her upstairs. She looked longingly at the gramophone and the younger guests, who were eager to dance and welcome in the new year. The older folk were breaking up into small groups and settling in for quiet conversation while they enjoyed, or more likely tolerated, the newfangled music that was an affront to their ears, and attempted to drown their distaste in glasses of expensive champagne.

Honor went to sit by her father. Douglas had made it through supper but had eaten very little, and was now relaxing in his favorite chair by the hearth. He looked pale, and his forehead was damp with perspiration, even though the room was pleasantly cool. He was barely managing, but she knew he would refuse to retire if anyone suggested it. He had sent Nurse Jeffries downstairs to celebrate with the servants and was now waiting patiently for the engagement announcement, which would be made immediately after the midnight toast. And then he would go upstairs and rest easy in the knowledge that he had done what was expected of him and had passed the torch to a new generation.

The music finally began, and Honor tried to suppress her burning envy as Jesse led Geneva to the center of the floor. Geneva, whose expression was serious, as if she were about to undertake an arduous task, suddenly brightened. She grinned at Jesse conspiratorially and they began to dance, their movements almost completely in sync, as if they had practiced beforehand. Had they? Honor wondered, as other couples joined them and tried to copy the steps.

Determined to get in on the fun, Honor marched up to Rory and held out her hand. She had promised her sister that she would keep him away from her, and he could hardly refuse in front of all these people. It would be very bad manners indeed, and Rory was a gentleman. At least with her. She had tried to kiss him, but he had taken her firmly by the shoulders and pushed her away. What had he thought she was going to do? She wasn’t fool enough to compromise her future. All she’d wanted was to learn a few things every woman should know, and the best way to do that was to try it on with the hired help, who would be torn between their astonishment at being chosen and their desire to keep their position and do whatever it took to keep the lady happy so she wouldn’t complain to her father.