Schoolgirl Missing: Discover the dark side of family life in the most gripping page-turner of 2019. Sue Fortin
at Jake’s art studio and, on the whole, she had felt a certain amount of empathy with them. Most of them, once you got to know them, were trying to get their lives on track having come through the care system, their backgrounds having little or no positive role models and often horrendous family lives. Neve knew only too well how bad family life could be when you were a young adult.
She wondered who Poppy had met and, as Kit had thought, if they could possibly be from The Forum. She tried to recall the ones she had seen at Jake’s studio but no one in particular sprang to mind matching the description that Kit gave.
There was, of course, one person she could ask – Jake. Neve was aware of the little flutter her stomach gave as she thought of contacting Jake and further acknowledged that it only served to back up Kit’s observations earlier about how she was making more of an effort with her appearance. It was a good job Kit wasn’t aware of her anticipation, it would only upgrade his observation to suspicion, when in actual fact, there wasn’t anything to be suspicious about.
She took out her phone and tapped out a message.
Hi, just wondered if you had five minutes to spare this morning?
She received a reply almost straight away.
For you, of course! I have a break between classes in 20 mins.
Great. See you then.
Neve pushed her phone into her pocket and couldn’t help smiling to herself at Jake’s immediate response and willingness to help. It was flattering and something which Kit hadn’t done in a long time.
Rather than take the car, Neve decided to kill two birds with one stone and take Willow for a walk at the same time. Jake’s art studio was on the outskirts of the village but less than a ten-minute walk away.
It was the beginning of July and despite promises of better weather, today was definitely not keeping schedule with the forecast. As Neve took her raincoat from the peg, she found herself checking her reflection in the mirror and wondering if her lipstick needed touching up.
She sighed and tutted at herself, Kit’s observation had been right, but it irritated her all the same. ‘A girl’s allowed to wear lipstick,’ she said out loud defiantly as she stood up straighter and pushed a stray strand of hair off her face. With that, she shrugged on her jacket and with Willow hooked onto the lead, she set off for the art studio.
As Neve crossed the bridge and turned into Copperthorne Lane, the earlier stomach-fluttering excitement made a return. This was so silly. She was a grown woman. A married woman. Jake Rees was her art tutor. She couldn’t let the current harmless mutual attraction develop into anything else. It was one thing thinking these things and having secret fantasies but playing them out in real life was something else.
Jake had converted an old farm building into a working studio about three years ago and lived above the premises. An artist himself, he supplemented his income with traditional art lessons and art therapy. He was involved with the young adults at The Forum – his social conscience, he called it. Those well off enough to pay for lessons and therapy were also funding those less fortunate who needed support in processing their emotions, thus helping them to make a positive future for themselves.
Neve admired his philosophy. Jake did what a lot of people only talked about, or superficially advocated by pointlessly sharing social media memes and believing that was a way to help. Jake acted on his thoughts, he didn’t just share and flick through to another status update. And of course, there were those who didn’t even do the whole sharing thing. Those like her husband who thought kids today expected everything to be handed to them on a plate and what they really needed was a dose of reality.
Neve sighed. Kit had lost his empathy somewhere along the way. He hadn’t been like that when they married, she was sure, but somewhere, somehow, his compassion had leaked away, leaving behind someone she found hard to understand.
Copperthorne Lane wasn’t much more than a gravel track and as she rounded the bend, the converted buildings came into view. Neve pushed open the stable door and poked her head into the studio where a group of around six artists were standing in front of their easels in a semi-circle. Neve couldn’t see the subject matter but from the boards bearing the half-completed charcoal drawings of a camera, photo albums and some scattered photographs, it looked like they were studying still life.
She caught sight of Jake talking earnestly with one of the women and leaned against the door frame, enjoying watching him without him noticing her. His dark hair, with its relaxed curl, skimmed his eyebrows and equally dark lashes.
‘Hey,’ said Jake, looking up and smiling. He excused himself from his student and came over, kissing her on the cheek. ‘How are you?’
‘Hey,’ replied Neve, taking in a deep breath of his aftershave, mixed with a more overpowering smell of turps. ‘I’m good, thanks.’ She nodded at the artists busy working on their canvasses. The woman Jake had been talking to looked up and smiled. Neve had seen her a few times at the studio but didn’t know her name. She returned the smile. ‘Full house today,’ she said to Jake.
‘Wednesday specials,’ said Jake, lowering his voice and dipping his head so his mouth was near her ear. ‘OAP day.’
Neve gave a small giggle. She flinched inwardly. It wasn’t even that funny what Jake said. She needed to get a grip of herself. ‘I can come back later if you’re busy,’ she found herself saying.
‘Not at all. Come on through. Bring the dog with you as well.’ He placed his hand on the small of Neve’s back and guided her through the main studio.
Neve smiled at another of Jake’s students. This time a gentleman, who Neve estimated to be in his early seventies.
The man stopped what he was doing to make a fuss of Willow. ‘Aren’t you lovely,’ he said, stroking the dog’s ears. ‘I’d better not stroke you too much, you’ll end up with paint all over you, then your mistress won’t be pleased.’
‘Your picture is looking great, Stan,’ said Jake. ‘I like what you’ve done with the greens there. You remembered what we said last week about blending the colours. Good stuff.’
Stan beamed like a schoolboy. ‘Thanks. I wasn’t sure about this area here. Do you ...?’
Jake moved his hand from Neve’s back to Stan’s shoulder as if they were mates down the pub, standing at the bar with their pints. ‘This is good, but remember, Stan, it’s your painting.’ He stood back and addressed the rest of the group. ‘OK, if you want to take a ten-minute break.’
Jake ushered Neve through to the smaller studio at the rear of the main room, which, in turn, led through to a small office.
Neve followed him through the open door and as he closed it behind them, she rested against the table in the middle of the room, which suddenly felt small and intimate. She’d worked in here before, it was a room Jake used for one-to-one sessions or with art therapy students who, for one reason or another, weren’t happy working in a larger group. Neve liked it in here, she felt she could be freer with her art. When she was alone or if it was just Jake in the room, she was able to express her deepest thoughts, her strongest fears and her darkest emotions on the canvas. There was no one to question her work or ask for an interpretation or, indeed, attempt to interpret it themselves. She hated that. They could just as well have been examining her naked body.
‘So, what do I owe this pleasure?’ asked Jake, taking the lead from her hand and hooking it under the leg of a stool. He moved to stand in front of her, his arms folded and dipped his head to seek out her eyes.
Neve had been keeping her focus on Willow, it was the safest place to look, she had decided. Sensing his gaze, Neve looked up at him. Her heart was beating faster than necessary, and she took a deep breath to regain some sort of control.
‘Well,’ she began. ‘Erm … I can’t make the class today after all.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said Jake. ‘A real shame. It’s not the same without you.’ His voice had dropped in