Tideline by Penny Hancock Read Free Book Online

Helen thought, before it hit her that they were younger than
she was. Middle-aged but younger than her. How could that be all of a sudden? She sighed, took a deep breath. It would have been nice to join them, have another few drinks, stay out, but she was
tired and she was driving. And Mick had probably cooked. He would be waiting for her.
    In the car, she fastened her seat belt, knowing she was probably over the limit, though she hadn’t in all her driving years been breathalyzed yet.
I don’t look like the kind of woman
who might drink too much,
she thought. Police went for youngsters. Barney and Theo’s friends were always being stopped though they never drank and drove.
    She was just turning the key in the ignition when she spotted Alicia, Jez’s girlfriend, coming along the street from the gallery. She was alone, and looked a little lost. Helen opened the
window, leant out.
    ‘D’you need a lift Alicia?’
    The girl looked up. ‘Oh. Cool.’
    Helen opened the passenger door and Alicia jumped in.
    ‘Going home?’
    ‘S’pose so. Thought I might see Jez at Nadia’s. I went with some of my art class. We invited him to come along. Do you know where he is? I haven’t seen him since
Thursday.’
    ‘Thought he might be with you actually,’ Helen said. When had she last seen her nephew? It wasn’t last night. Maybe it had been Thursday too, when Alicia had come round, and
they’d made those badge things on the computer.
    She pulled out into the traffic and glanced at the girl. Alicia had been in and out of the house since Jez arrived the previous Saturday but Helen had taken little notice of her. Now she saw
that the girl was pretty, fine featured, elfin, pale skin. Just a child really. She was staring straight ahead, with a small frown wrinkling her forehead.
    ‘You OK?’ Helen asked, taking Old Street roundabout rather too quickly and braking as she headed off towards the city.
    ‘No. He’s not answering his phone or returning my texts.’
    ‘He was supposed to be going back to Paris this weekend.’ Helen said. ‘I told him to let us know which train he was getting, but I haven’t been in much. The boys will
know.’
    ‘He wouldn’t have gone yesterday. We were supposed to be meeting in the tunnel. He didn’t come and I’m worried. It’s not like him.’
    ‘Tunnel?’
    ‘The foot tunnel. We always meet there. While he’s staying with you in Greenwich. It’s like, halfway, and it’s kind of . . . our special place.’
    God, thought Helen, how could anyone, even a starry-eyed teenager view the foot tunnel as somewhere romantic? The floor damp, as if the river were seeping through. The white tiles and exposed
electricity cables. The stink of stale urine. The lifts stopped working at seven so you had to take the hundreds of steps up to the surface hoping no one lurked in the corners and shadows.
    ‘You want to be careful hanging about in the tunnel,’ Helen said. ‘Where do you want me to drop you? I can take you home if it’s not too far out of my way. Or to a
tube?’
    ‘Docklands.’
    Helen thought of Mick again, at home, griddling something. Tuna steaks with udon noodles were one of his specialities, he often did that on a Saturday night. A bottle of something cold and white
and a meal in front of the TV. What more could she want? She shouldn’t have bothered with Nadia’s preview.
    ‘It’s doing my head in.’ Alicia sounded on the verge of tears. ‘He must be in a mood with me.’
    ‘Jez? I’m sure he’s not,’ Helen said. ‘He’s gone home to Paris or he’ll be with the band. You know what they’re like when they’re playing.
They forget there are other people out here.’
    Alicia shrugged. ‘He’s the best lead guitarist in all the bands I know. My friends are so, like, jealous I’m with him. But he doesn’t know how drop-dead gorgeous he is
and he’s never just blanked me out before. It’s weird.’
    A dispatch rider on a motorbike cut across Helen’s