The Riviera - Karen Aldous

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he thought a sixteen-year-old could squeeze into. Each floor, including the attic rooms and the eaves, was minutely inspected before he raced for the garden scratching his arms on the bushes, leaving nothing or nowhere to chance.

      ‘Jack, I’m here,’ he called as he continued into the summerhouse, under it and then into the garage, scrutinising every inch of the garage loft where storage boxes and tools resided. ‘Jack, please come out. I’m here to help,’ he said, wishing this nightmare would end. If there was one thing in his life he could do to ease years of guilt, this would be it. He would be here in his son’s hour of need and prove to him he cared, let him know he’d always cared. Shifting box after box until he was sure he’d scrutinised every corner, a small photo-frame shot out and hit a rafter. Cal reached out and turned it over. His heart lurched as his finger circled the familiar face. The young Jack flashing a full-on milk-teeth smile. His first school photo Cal recalled with fondness but then saddled it with anger at why it was here. His own copy was securely placed in an album he kept close. In fact it was at Lizzie’s apartment whilst his belongings were in storage. Obviously, Kelly had more children and priorities where décor was concerned.

      ‘Cal,’ Kelly called from the garden. ‘Bob, Brett’s father, is here. Where are you?’

      Racing down the steps and jumping the last few, he almost crashed into Kelly entering the open garage door.

      ‘Ah…here, has he discovered anything?’ Cal urged.

      ‘No. And he won’t go home and get any sleep. He’s going back to the harbour now while I get Harry and Bea. Do you want to go?’ Kelly led Cal back into the house. Bob closed the cloakroom door and came down the hall towards them into the kitchen.

      ‘Hi, Bob. Thanks for all your help,’ Cal said taking Bob’s large hand. He recognised the tall stature with receding brown-grey hair. ‘I really appreciate…’

      ‘Oh man, I can’t imagine what you guys are suffering right now, but I’ve run out of ideas if I’m honest.’ He shrugged, wiping his brow. ‘I think I’ve been around the island twice covering every road, and stopping at every diner or bar. I’ve shown this picture here to half the population and asked them to call the police if they see him. The police are on it too. They have a team out knocking on doors. They questioned Brett this morning. Apart from suggesting we look down the harbour, he’s not saying a thing. I’m not convinced. Boys talk. I’ll try again but I’ve sent him to school.’

      ‘Really good of you. I’ll stay here in case.’

      With a heavy heart, Cal returned to the garage. Time was getting on and fear was gripping his stomach and throat. He covered his face with his hands then rubbed his eyes in both tiredness and despair. He returned to the roof space in the garage and began climbing the steps. Something made him stop. He peered back at the summerhouse. He observed the pitched roof for a moment, noticing a porthole window to the front. He ran to the summerhouse door and inside, in the centre of the ceiling was a small-framed door hatch. His eyes scanned the room for a hook. There was nothing visible. He grabbed a chair and climbed up, pushing in the hatch which released and swung open.

      ‘Jack. Are you there, Jack?’ He pulled the narrow folded steps down and unfastened the clasp allowing the length of the steps to fall to the floor. He peered up, dust particles flitted through the beam of daylight from the tiny window. He then climbed up. ‘Jack.’

       Chapter 3

      Lizzie was still pondering on the idea. A male cosmetic surgeon. It wasn’t a case of being sexist, she just hadn’t thought about it. And, certainly, some of her clients may prefer to be treated by a man. It could certainly be a bonus to have someone with Sophie’s skills on standby who knew the business, with the busy season coming up in just ten weeks. Lizzie scanned last year’s timetable to ensure she would have plenty of hair and beauty consultants working for the salon to cover the demands of the Cannes Film Festival and the Monaco Grand Prix. She prayed Sophie wouldn’t be jetting off to the States during that time. Not that everyone would be requiring rigorous cosmetic surgery, but the Botox and filler treatments would certainly be in demand.

      She sat back and brushed her temple. This was quite phenomenal, she thought to herself, and still early days. Their salon in the Rue d’Antibes had barely been open six months. Maybe it would be a good idea to also have male grooming consultants on board. As excitement bubbled inside her, she wished Sophie was around to talk to, and Cal.

      ‘Bonjour, Lizzie.’ Josephine, her Manager, poked her head round the door.

      Lizzie looked up with a start. ‘Oh, Josephine. How are you? Sorry, I was miles away.’

      ‘Yes, good. A bit tired. I was out watching a band last night, so still a little hung over.’

      ‘Oh, good sign. Sounds like you had a good time. How are things downstairs? I’ve had my head stuck in these,’ she said pointing to the spreadsheets on the screen.

      ‘Yes, all running OK. Madame Joubert is down there if you want to say hello.’

      Lizzie smiled. ‘Oh thanks, I will. Oh, and before you disappear, tell me what you think of this?’

      Lizzie explained to Josephine her idea of introducing a male grooming section.

      ‘Absolutely great.’

      ‘It would mean extra work so I thought Lucie could get more involved in assisting you. She’s good at working with the schedules.’

      Josephine nodded.

      Lizzie’s mobile rang. ‘Excuse me a minute,’ she said, her eyes brightening as she spoke. ‘Cal.’ Josephine made for the door.

      Barely thirty seconds later, Lizzie slipped the phone back down onto her desk. Pulling a face, she leaned her elbow on the arm of her chair, sliding her fingers through her hair and picturing his worried face shadowed by dark unruly hair. She could only conclude it was difficult for him to talk. The conversation was very brief.

      Finding it hard to imagine he was now thousands of miles away, already she yearned to be next to him and hold him. Tell him things would be fine. She never doubted Cal wouldn’t cope but she wanted to be there for him and it was suddenly strange that he wouldn’t be at the apartment tonight. The main thing was, she consoled herself, was he’d arrived safely and he was with Jack. He would soon have his son back on track, that much she was sure. Cal seemed to know how to deal with any situation. Now the question was, should she mention anything to Rose, his grandmother? She didn’t want to have her panicking and worrying about her grandson. Although, she pondered the thought, Jack may have confided something relevant. Lizzie rang down to reception.

      Cal’s mother’s face was glowing after her facial fifteen minutes later.

      ‘Rose, so lovely to see you. You are looking lovely,’ she told her honestly. Lizzie had always thought she had great skin for her years and Cal had obviously inherited the eyes and her naturally oozing charisma. She kissed her lightly on the cheeks.

      ‘You too, sweetie, and thank you again for that lovely dinner last week. I’ve been meaning to call Cal actually.’

      ‘Oh, I enjoyed your company. I’m sure he won’t mind me telling you, he flew over to see Jack this morning.’

      Lizzie witnessed immediate concern in Rose’s eyes.

      ‘Oh heavens, something is up,’ Rose said, her hand reaching for her chest.

      ‘He’s just gone to make sure Jack is OK.’

      ‘He didn’t say.’

      Lizzie gently clasped Rose’s arm. ‘No, it was rather last minute as Jack was upset and asked Cal for help.’

      ‘Hmm, I wonder if it’s anything to do with that girl?’

      Lizzie’s eyes widened. Jack had obviously confided in his grandmother and she didn’t feel right asking her.

      ‘Cal

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