The Mum Detective Read online

  ‘How should I know?’

  ‘“He might say –”’ she read from the book again – ‘“Well, time will tell. That’s why we’re dating. Or he might say, Why else would I be dating you for a year?”’

  I frowned. ‘That sounds a bit rude.’

  ‘I know – and this book tells you what he should say. “He should say, Yes, my love for you grows each day I know you better, or Yes, I am madly in love with you. You are the most special woman in my life.”’

  I pulled a face. ‘Yuck!’

  ‘Well, that’s what your dad should be saying to Lizzie and if he’s not saying that, then he’s getting it wrong!’

  ‘Let me see.’ I grabbed the book from her, but it closed in her hand before I could see the page for myself. I opened it again and found myself looking at a whole list of the sort of compliments that a man should give to a woman if he wanted the woman to really like him. They were called juicy compliments. Beside it, there was a list of all the sorts of (more boring) things most men say to women, which the book called plain compliments. Looking at that, it was easy to see where Dad was going wrong.

  I asked Holly if I could borrow a pen and paper so I could write down some of the juicy compliments to show Dad.

  At that point, Holly’s mum knocked on the door and entered the room. Normally she waits for Holly to say ‘Come in’ before she enters, because she’s really respectful of Holly’s privacy (unlike my dad), but sometimes she forgets. She put down the drinks she had brought us and frowned when she saw the books we were holding. ‘What are you doing with those? I’ve told you before, Holly. The books that I keep in my bedroom are grown-up ones. I don’t mind you having a look at them if I’m with you to explain things, but I don’t want you just sneaking in there and taking them.’

  This is what I mean about Holly having a great mum. I think it’s so cool the way she treats Holly – explaining grown-up stuff to her properly so she doesn’t get the wrong idea about things. Dad just bans me from reading anything – or watching anything on TV – that he thinks might make me ask awkward questions. But as our au pair, Juliette, pointed out to him when she was here, how am I meant to learn about life if I don’t have at least some of my awkward questions answered?

  ‘The books Dad keeps in his bedroom are really boring,’ I sighed. ‘They’ve got all these boring facts in them about wars and history and stuff.’

  Holly’s mum laughed. ‘Men tend to like facts more than women do, Esmie.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad I’m a girl and not a boy then,’ I said, ‘because I think make-believe stuff is much better!’

  When Holly’s mum left the room, Holly and I decided to play a pretend game that didn’t involve any facts at all – but because we’re too old to be playing pretend games, we called it practising our acting. (We’re both in the drama group at school.) I said I would be a woman whose husband was trying to murder her and that Holly should be the detective investigating the case. But Holly wanted to be a relationship counsellor instead and we were arguing about whether relationship counsellors or detectives were better at stopping people from murdering each other, when Holly’s mum came into the room again.

  ‘Your dad just phoned, Esmie. Matthew’s had a fall climbing up into the loft at Jennifer’s house and her father isn’t in, so your dad’s going round there now. It means you’ll have to stay here with us for a while.’

  ‘Is Matty all right?’ If Jennifer’s dad wasn’t in, that meant there wasn’t an adult there with them at all. Jennifer doesn’t have a mum either, you see, which Holly says is obviously the main reason Matthew is going out with her. Holly once read in one of her mum’s self-help books that people get attracted to reflections of themselves. When I’d pointed out that I was pretty certain Jennifer didn’t look anything like Matthew, she’d started going on about how the book had been talking about psychological reflections – which was where she’d lost me.

  ‘Your dad thinks he might have a broken arm. He’s going to take him up to A and E for them to check it out.’

  I nodded. The good thing about Dad is that he always knows what to do in a crisis. Accidents and murders especially.

  It was several hours later when Dad finally arrived to pick me up on his way back from the hospital with Matthew. Apparently A & E had been really busy and they’d had to wait ages, but eventually Matthew had got X-rayed and it turned out that he’d broken his right arm. The hospital had put it in plaster and given him some painkillers, which must have been really strong because he’d fallen asleep in the car and he didn’t even wake up when I got in and slammed my door shut. I’d been hoping Jennifer would be with them so that I could meet her at last, but Dad said they’d already dropped her off at her house.

  Lizzie was waiting for us at home and she came rushing out to the car and started fussing over Matthew just like she was our mother. I love it when she acts like that.

  Dad got Matthew comfortable in his bed, where he fell straight back to sleep again. I hovered in the doorway for a while afterwards, wondering how mad my brother would get if I drew on his plaster while he was sleeping. I could draw something really uncool like a flower with pink petals. But Dad seemed to guess that I was up to no good because he called to me from downstairs that he had left Matthew’s door open so that he could hear him if he needed anything, not so that I could go in there and annoy him.

  So I asked Dad if I could go on the Internet to write Juliette an email about what had happened to Matthew and he said that I could, so long as I didn’t stay online for long. Dad doesn’t really like me using the Internet without a grown-up standing over me – I think he’s scared I’m going to meet some weirdo in a chat room or something.

  Matty still hadn’t woken up when it was time to eat that evening, and Lizzie asked Dad what painkillers the doctor had given him. Being a pharmacist, she knows all about drugs. After she’d looked at the bottle of tablets we’d brought home, she said that he would probably be better off with some painkillers that were less sedating.

  ‘But the doctor at the hospital prescribed these,’ Dad said.

  ‘I know, but they’re pretty strong. I think maybe another type would be better. Why don’t you ring his GP in the morning?’

  ‘I think I’d rather follow the A and E doctor’s instructions.’

  ‘Fine,’ Lizzie said, like in her view it wasn’t fine. ‘So long as you don’t expect him to go to school.’

  ‘What do you mean? Of course he’s going to school! He’s got his exams this year. He can’t afford to take time off.’ Dad was sounding irritated now, a bit like he used to sound whenever Juliette came up with suggestions to do with us that were different from his. ( Juliette and Dad didn’t get on very well when she first came to live with us because he reckoned she was interfering too much in the smooth running of our family. The thing is, our family wasn’t really running as smoothly as Dad thought – and even he had to admit that Juliette had helped us in the end.) ‘Well, he won’t be able to stay awake at school if he stays on these,’ Lizzie continued. ‘And he might still need pain relief, so all I’m saying is . . .’

  They went on disagreeing until Lizzie finally snapped, ‘Well, he’s your son. You do what you want!’ Her face was flushed and she said that she thought she’d better go back to her own place tonight because she had a headache.

  ‘Why don’t you just go and have a lie-down upstairs for a while?’ I suggested, because that’s what people always tell me to do whenever I’ve got a headache.

  But Lizzie said it was a really bad headache and that she would have to go.

  Shortly after she’d gone, Matthew woke up and said he wanted to come downstairs to watch TV. He’s got a portable television in his bedroom, but he wanted to watch Hollywood’s Greatest Action Stunts on our thirty-two-inch screen. Dad joked that maybe he could pick up some tips on how not to break your arm when you were falling out of a loft, but Matthew just pulled a face at him like that wasn’t funny.

  ‘Dad?’
my brother asked, stifling a yawn when the first advert break came on. ‘I’ve got something to ask you.’

  Dad looked across at him.

  ‘It’s about Jennifer.’ He paused. ‘You know how her mum left when she was little? Well, she really wants to trace her. And since you’re always tracking down missing people at work, we thought you might be able to help.’

  Dad frowned. ‘Surely her father’s the best person to help her with that.’

  ‘He’s already said he doesn’t want her looking for her mum. He won’t even talk to Jennifer about her.’

  ‘Well, this isn’t a police matter, it’s a family matter. And since it’s not our family, I don’t think you should be interfering.’

  ‘I’m not interfering. I’m just trying to help.’

  ‘Matthew, what exactly were you looking for this morning in that loft?’ Dad asked.

  Matthew sighed like he was expecting to have to tell Dad that sooner or later. ‘We thought her dad might have put some stuff of her mum’s up there. Stuff that might help Jennifer find out more about her.’

  ‘You know, Dad!’ I burst out, understanding immediately what had given Matthew that idea. ‘Stuff like there is in our loft!’ Dad keeps saying he’s going to clear all our mum’s stuff out of our loft but, as far as I know, he never has.

  Dad was looking serious now. ‘I’d be very careful, if I were you, Matthew, before I went behind Jennifer’s father’s back, digging up the past. Remember, he’s the one who stayed around all these years and looked after her. He deserves some respect for that, surely. And, anyway, what if Jennifer’s mother doesn’t want anything to do with her? Have you thought about that?’

  ‘Jennifer thinks she will. She’s got this letter from her, see. Jennifer’s mum wrote it a few months after she left and her dad gave it to her when she was old enough to read it. She keeps it in this little jewellery box – sort of like treasure or something. Anyway, she showed it to me. It said how much she’ll always love Jennifer and how precious Jennifer will always be to her. Stuff like that.’ Matthew paused. ‘So Jen reckons her mum’ll probably be pleased if she gets in touch. She only wants to meet her. She only wants to understand why she left, that’s all. She’s not expecting to go off and live with her or anything. Come on, Dad! Can’t you just help us?’

  ‘By doing what exactly?’

  ‘I don’t know. Whatever you normally do to hunt down missing people!’

  ‘Maybe you could put her details into the police computer and see what comes up,’ I suggested helpfully.

  Dad turned and gave me a look that warned me to keep out of this. But, of course, it was too late for that. I was totally interested now. And there was no way I was going to be able to keep out of it.

  When the doorbell rang on Monday afternoon, Matthew and I were having an argument about the television. Holly had come home with me after school and we wanted to watch Star Trek, but Matthew had switched over to Buffy the Vampire Slayer instead. He really fancies Buffy and he says she looks better on the widescreen than on his portable.

  ‘It’s not fair!’ I growled at him. ‘I’ve got a friend round and you haven’t, so we should get to watch what we want!’ That’s always been the rule in our house if one of us has friends in, and Matthew knows it.

  Matty started saying that Dad had told him that, because of his broken arm, he could get first choice of what to watch.

  ‘Rubbish!’ I snarled. Dad was treating Matthew like he normally did, apart from helping him with stuff that it’s difficult to do with one arm in plaster, like washing his hair and tying his school tie. This morning Dad had knotted Matthew’s tie for him really neatly, which Matthew had moaned about because normally he only ties it loosely since he reckons it looks cooler that way. One thing Matthew seemed to be managing to do fine on his own, however, was keep hold of the TV remote.

  ‘Aren’t you going to answer the door?’ Holly asked, when the bell rang a second time.

  ‘Matthew’s meant to,’ I said. ‘With the chain on.’ Dad had left strict instructions about how we were to deal with callers in his absence ever since he’d decided that Matthew was old enough to be left in charge of the house and me on school days until he got home from work – unless he was working really late, when he usually arranged for me to go round to Holly’s instead.

  ‘I’ve got a broken arm,’ Matthew protested.

  ‘You haven’t got a broken leg,’ I pointed out. ‘You can still walk.’

  ‘Maybe it’s my mum,’ Holly said, jumping up. But Holly’s mum wasn’t due to pick her up for another hour so I didn’t see how it could be her.

  We let Holly answer the door and we heard her interrogating whoever it was about who they were, what they wanted and whether they were expected, before she took off the chain. Dad would’ve been really proud of her.

  ‘Who is it?’ Matthew and I called out together.

  ‘Jennifer!’ Holly shouted back.

  I sat up straighter, excited that I was finally going to meet the mysterious Jennifer and slightly miffed that Holly had clapped eyes on her before I had.

  Matty immediately sat up straighter too and started using the TV remote to brush biscuit crumbs off his trousers.

  ‘You’ve got crisps stuck to your jumper as well,’ I pointed out to him. And as soon as he put down the remote to pick them off, I grabbed it and switched the TV back to Star Trek.

  ‘Come in, Jen!’ Matthew called out to her, running his fingers through his hair to make his fringe less flat, because Jennifer had told him it looked trendier when it was sticking up a bit.

  Jennifer came into the room, closely followed by a scowling Holly. I quickly saw why Holly was scowling. Jennifer was really pretty. She had a nice face and long blondish hair and she was slim without being skinny. In fact, she reminded me a bit of Rachel, my favourite character in Friends – the one who used to be married to Brad Pitt in real life. She was wearing jeans and a cropped blue jumper and dangly earrings in the shape of fish, which Matty had bought for her a couple of weeks ago and that I’d told him she’d never wear because they looked so silly. I saw Holly staring at them as if she thought they were hideous.

  ‘How are you?’ Jennifer asked my brother. Jennifer goes to a different school to us so she hadn’t seen him since Saturday. She was clutching her mobile and her purse. She looked quite tense. ‘I can’t stay long. How’s your arm?’

  ‘Cool.’ Matthew rapped lightly on his plaster, which I still hadn’t managed to draw on yet.

  ‘Hi, I’m Esmie.’ I introduced myself, since it didn’t look like my brother was going to. ‘I’m Matthew’s sister,’ I added, just in case he hadn’t bothered to go as far as mentioning my existence to her.

  Jennifer gave me a weak smile. ‘Hi!’ Then she turned back to Matthew. ‘Dad’s really angry. He says we shouldn’t have been up in the loft. He says there isn’t any stuff of my mum’s up there anyway because she took it all with her when she left. He was really mad at me for going behind his back – and he’s mad at you too, Matthew. He says he doesn’t think you’re a suitable boyfriend for me. I told him I wouldn’t stop seeing you and he said I’d have to or else he’d ground me. I’ve had to sneak over here while he thinks I’m at the shops.’

  ‘Wow!’ I gasped. ‘This is really romantic! It’s just like in Romeo and Juliet. They had to meet in secret too, because their families didn’t approve. And they ended up getting married in secret!’

  ‘Yeah, and then they ended up killing themselves in secret,’ Holly added.

  Matty looked at me impatiently. ‘Esmie, can’t you and Holly go and do something upstairs?’

  I shook my head. ‘We want to watch Star Trek.’

  ‘Matty wants to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer,’ Holly told Jennifer. ‘He really fancies Buffy, don’t you, Matthew?’

  ‘I just think it’s a really cool programme,’ Matty replied, blushing.

  ‘Esmie said you nearly bought a poster of Buffy to put up in your bedroom, onl
y you decided to get one of Xena, the Warrior Princess instead,’ Holly continued. ‘Is that because you fancy her even more?’

  Fortunately, Jennifer’s mobile started ringing at that point and she took the call. ‘Hi, Dad . . . yes, I’m at the supermarket . . . No, you don’t have to do that . . . Well . . . umm . . . Tesco’s, but . . . Dad, wait . . .’ She was frowning as she came off the phone. ‘Dad’s on his way home from work and he thinks I’m at Tesco’s, so he’s going to come and pick me up from there in twenty minutes. I’d better get down there.’ She grabbed her purse. ‘Listen, Matthew, from now on we’ve got to pretend that we’ve split up, OK? To everyone. Otherwise my dad will find out and he’ll kill me.’

  Matthew saw her to the front door – his broken arm no longer seemed to be preventing him from walking – and I made Holly sit down with me on the sofa. The sofa is the best seat in our house for watching TV and now that Matthew had vacated it, I reckoned we may as well stake our claim while we had the chance.

  I really wanted to watch Star Trek, but it was difficult with Holly interrupting all the time to make comments about Jennifer. It was an episode of Deep Space Nine, where the teenage son of the captain – whose mother died when he was little – thinks she’s come back to life, only it turns out it’s not really her but just a clone of her from another space–time dimension. Not for the first time, I let myself imagine what it would be like if my mother suddenly turned out to be alive after all. Of course that was impossible, but I found myself thinking about how Jennifer’s mother really could come back – if only Jennifer could find out where she was.

  And that’s when I decided that I really wanted to help her look.

  By midweek, Juliette still hadn’t answered the email I’d sent her on Saturday, so I sent her another one. I was sure that Juliette would have some good ideas about how we could track down Jennifer’s mother, if only I could get hold of her to ask her. After all, it had been her idea to put a Lonely Hearts advert in the paper last year to find Dad a girlfriend, and that had worked, hadn’t it? I would have phoned her, except that Dad had hit the roof after our latest phone bill arrived. (I’d been phoning Juliette quite a lot since she’d gone back to France – mostly on her mobile.)