‘And then what? We’ve pieced together as much as we can of your journey, mapping the CCTV footage. You hadn’t pinned any of your locations on your public social media accounts. Any private ones we need to know about?’
‘No.’
‘OK. If you could tell me what happened this morning, then?’
‘At nine forty-five this morning we drove to Laurel Canyon. To go for a walk. On the way there, Ava grew tired. She lay down and fell asleep in the back of the car.’ My voice took on a robotic quality as I became more and more disassociated from myself.
‘What time was that?’
‘About ten fifteen, I suppose. We were nearing Laurel Canyon and the drive is about thirty minutes from home.’
‘What time did she wake up this morning from her night’s sleep?’
‘I can’t remember exactly. But she was exhausted from the past few days. And the heat. Why? What relevance has this got to do with finding her? Please, Detective Mcgraw.’ I sat forward, trying to get some air into my lungs.
‘Just trying to get a clear picture of everything surrounding her disappearance, Ms King. She fell asleep and then what?’ He waved his hand in front of his face as though swatting flies except when I looked, there was nothing there.
‘When she fell asleep, I drove from Laurel Canyon, back to Laurel Canyon Boulevard which is about halfway back to home. I drove around there for a bit, and then when I thought she had been asleep long enough, I turned around and drove back to the canyon where we were going to go for a walk.’
‘And why did you do that, Ms King? Drive around the Boulevard, I mean. Instead of perhaps waiting at Laurel Canyon, given that’s where you were about to go walking?’ His eyes rested on a large black and white picture of when I had been eight months pregnant with Ava.
‘I was just killing time, Detective. Have a few moments to myself. I rang Matthew at about a quarter to eleven or so. I like driving. I find it peaceful, when there are no paps around. With my job it’s time to be alone with my thoughts.’
‘Right. And there were no paps around today? Or your security?’
‘Not as far as I know. And I’d kept it just me and Ava. I felt OK about that. We weren’t going anywhere with lots of people. Look, I know I shouldn’t have been on my phone when I was driving.’
‘We just want to find your daughter. That’s our main focus right now. So you were speaking to Matthew. For how long in your estimation?’
‘Twenty minutes, I guess? You’ve got my cell. You’ll be able to tell, won’t you?’ There was a level of irritation in my voice that I tried to contain.
‘Chat about anything interesting, did you?’
‘What we had planned for the rest of the week. Our work. And then Ava was awake, asking to go to the toilet. She said she was desperate.’
‘You got off the phone at this point?’
‘No. I just stopped the conversation for a bit. I’m sorry. I just, it’s difficult. Like I told you, I don’t have much alone time.’
‘So, you pulled over and Ava got out the car to go to the toilet. How long had she been awake for at this point?’
‘I can’t fully remember. I’d looked at her in the rear-view mirror before. I think we’d smiled at each other.’ I thought of my daughter, a fist lodging itself behind my breastbone.
‘And before she went to sleep, she was fine?’
‘Totally fine.’ I started to cry. ‘We had a great time. Singing Katy Perry songs along with the radio, chatting about her school friends. Laughing, joking. She was happy we were together.’
‘So by the time you stopped and pulled over so she could go to the toilet, it was, about what time?’
‘Eleven thirty or thereabouts. I pulled over straightaway. There was no one around. We were just by the side of the road, so I thought she’d be fine. I thought she was right behind the car. But then, then I was back talking on my phone. I guess at some point, I realised it had been too long. I heard a car. Another car. I hung up. And that’s when—’
‘Slow down, Ms King, and try and breathe.’
My mind pulled back to that moment. I had craned my head around, waiting for her to pop up. Mommy. I’m here. Everything had shifted on its axis when I realised she wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
‘I looked. I looked and looked and looked. I screamed. I screamed her name over and over.’ She’s hiding, had been my initial thought. Funny girl. And then as time went on, my heart had started to race.
Game’s up now.
‘And you heard a car drive off?’
‘I did. I can’t tell you if it was near or far. I heard it though.’
‘How long after you realised she had gone did you hear the car?’
‘Oh, God, I don’t know. I just don’t know. Five, ten minutes? Fifteen at a stretch.’
‘So by this point it was about eleven forty?’
‘I don’t know. I think so. Please. I can’t remember.’
‘You heard any signs of a struggle? Screaming?’
‘No.’
‘Do you think she would have gone into someone else’s car willingly?’
‘No. Oh God. Well, Joan, her nanny,’ I could barely get the words out now. ‘Matthew. Lily. That’s all.’
Silence.
‘Fine. Let’s go on. You then got out to look for her?’
‘I did.’ I felt winded. ‘I looked for her for about fifteen or twenty minutes. You know, I really thought she was coming back at that point. Otherwise I would have called earlier,’ I heard my voice getting faster and faster. ‘I rang Matthew back. He told me to ring you. She wasn’t anywhere. I had forgotten about the noise of the car I heard. I was in such a state, I didn’t know what was going on.’
‘Look, I really think you should have one of our family liaison officers present. I think it would help.’
‘No. Please, I’m fine. I can’t. With my situation . . .’ I looked around the room at all my awards, the framed magazine front covers with me on them, hoping he’d understand.
‘Fine. Of course. Would you like us to call your friends? Family?’
‘No.’ I thought of my friends. My skin itched at the thought of anyone being near me. And then he pulled himself upright, as though he’d realised he’d been giving me too much power, been too acquiescent towards me.
‘All right. Listen, we need to search Ava’s room too. You might like someone with you when we do.’
‘Search it? That’s not necessary.’
‘We need to get a clear picture.’
‘Fine. Just don’t be disruptive with her things.’ I then thought about Joan and how much time she spent in Ava’s room. I thought about how she would ask me again and again how Ava was there one minute, and gone the next. And I’d tell her the things I was sure about. Which was this: that I do not know. I do not know how my six-year-old daughter could have disappeared like this.
I would tell her the things I do to safeguard my little girl. I would remind her that I check the swimming pool every time I leave the house. That we have the best security – including her favourite bodyguard Adrian – whom we trust with our lives.
But for the moment, what I would leave out is that I am guilty of doing what most parents must have done in their lifetime. If you happen to be one, please, do me the honour of reassuring me.
Tell me that perhaps you might have got over-involved in a conversation with someone whilst your child was over in the other side of the park. Looked over. Realised you couldn’t spot the heft of their body. Their little legs waddling over to the next set of swings. What clothes did you put them in this morning? God. You can’t even remember. Ah – that’s right. Green. You’d be looking for a green anorak. And then you’d see a flash of pond-water-coloured material and your muscles would relax and you’d vow never, ever to lose concentration again.
Or – perhaps you’ve sent a few WhatsApp messages when you thought your little one was busy playing with their toys. You’d been caught up in a conversation with
your mates. Wanted to have the last words with a partner with whom you’d been rowing. It’s OK, you told yourself. Nothing to harm them. I’ve got this.
Please. Work with me here. Tell me you’ve done one of the above.
Because perhaps, only then, would I be able to admit to Joan when she asks me, that I made a mistake.
A terrible, unforgivable mistake.
August 23rd 2018
1000hrs
‘Lara, come here, hurry.’ Conor had pulled out his mobile phone and waved me over. ‘Look at this.’ My heels clipped over the shiny hall floor as I walked towards him. Everywhere else in the house was off-limits whilst preparations for our big announcement were under way.
‘What is it?’ My voice wavered until I saw him, one leg hoiked over the other in a pale pink scallop-edged armchair, finger pressed up to his mouth. Thank God. His relaxed pose. As Head of Lara King Publicity he had the power to turn a good day into something hellish, with only a few words.
‘Everyone’s going shit-crazy online.’ He tapped his phone. ‘They’re all wondering what the fuck is going on.’ He gave a triumphant nod. ‘Look – all the showbiz blogs have published the photos of the events company setting up outside yours. The surprise for the public was a genius idea. And so was the media blackout.’ Not wanting to crease my black Lanvin dress, I perched on the wood-carved arm of the chair, and peered across at the picture on the screen.
‘Look,’ he went on. ‘Papa Razzle dot com. Lara’s Big Secret, they’ve called it. It’s a massive front-page splash. That will mean all the news sites will soon follow.’
Although I was used to being headline news, my stomach still swooped. He was right. They were fuzzy images, obviously taken with a paparazzi drone, but I could still see aerial shots of the vans outside the property, navy curlicue writing on the bonnets. Bear Productions. I could see the clear blue water of our swimming pool, the twelve state-of-the-art, solar-powered white sunloungers along both sides and the gold-plated cherub statue given to me by a Saudi prince, that held trays of drinks.
If I looked closely I could also make out Matthew, one leg folded up, his beautiful, golden body roasting in the sunshine. Conor read my thoughts.
‘Matthew – he’s scheduled to arrive about an hour before the announcement. Is that right?’
‘Yes,’ I told him, excitement zipping up my body. ‘That’s right.’
‘Oh, wait, look here.’ I felt the coolness of Conor’s arm on mine. ‘All these comments under your latest Instagram post, speculating on your surprise announcement. Millions of them. Some of them have called it. But other theories are crazy.’ I skimmed through them and couldn’t help but soak up the excitement spreading around my loyal fans. I thought about Ava and the big day ahead. How things were about to change for everyone.
‘Hey, what’s the time?’ Conor flicked his eyes down to the silver Rolex I’d given him last year. He wore it well, even with his usual outfit of plain white T-shirt, ripped jeans and red Converse boots. ‘Manny’s about to arrive, isn’t he?’
‘Yup.’ I stood, smoothing my hands down my dress. ‘He’d better be on time.’
‘He will be. He’s got too much riding on this. Just don’t tell Ava he’s writing a big feature on you guys.’ Conor lifted himself up. ‘She’ll freak. Just say he’s a friend, or something. Got it?’ I nodded. I’d seen Manny’s byline picture many times. He looked like the uncle out of that My Family and Other Freaks show that Ava loved and I knew for that reason, she would warm to him. I just hoped not too much. As for the rest of the day – well, she’d never let me down but this was bigger than anything we’d ever done together before. A new chapter. The promise of something glittering.
Conor and I had timetabled every second of the announcement, and his team back at Conor PR headquarters had scheduled everything seamlessly. Ava and I had practised every spare minute.
‘Mom, OK, so listen,’ she had asked me as she sat on the ostrich-feather stuffed ottoman at the end of my bed each morning. ‘Have I got it right?’ She had cleared her throat. ‘Hi, everybody, I’m so excited for what’s ahead,’ she repeated. ‘You’ve all been so supportive of us, and we are so grateful to you but everyone needs a change, in order to grow and be nourished.’
‘That’s it. But back straight.’ I had thought about the media training I’d been given by Conor when I’d first arrived in LA.
‘You need to be familiar yet distant,’ he had told me. ‘And number one rule. Always authentic. Anything else and they’ll smell it a mile off.’
‘And remember, Ava,’ I had whispered. ‘No ruining the surprise.’ I held a finger up to my lips. ‘Our secret. OK? We want it to have the biggest impact it can and so no telling.’
‘I know, Mom.’
‘Good girl. I can’t believe how lucky I am.’ She sat bolt upright then, hands in her lap. I willed her to stay in that position, because since we’d told her about the announcement she’d been fidgety. I silently prayed that when Manny turned up, she’d be on best behaviour.
‘Right,’ said Conor, after the doorbell went. ‘Manny. You go into the living room where they’re setting up everything. I’ll say hello to him, bring him to you and then leave you to it. Remember. Your narrative for today is . . .’ He rubbed his hands together.
‘Yup,’ I sighed. ‘I got it. Everything is shiny and golden.’ Conor looked around, his gaze settling on a huge gold statue of Buddha on the hallway table.
‘That’s the one. Now quick. I’m going to answer the door. Go. Get Ava too so we can introduce them.’
I started to feel hot. It was all beginning. I took one last look in the hallway mirror. I considered what Manny would make of me in the flesh, when he had a proper chance to scrutinise me. If he’d notice the three tiny freckles, triangulated on the top of my left shoulder. Or the shimmering flecks of gold in my otherwise green eyes. If he’d wonder whether my caramel-streaked hair, beautifully plumped pink lips, and thick eyelashes were the real deal. All mine, I’d shrug when people asked, my voice laced with false apology. Or if he’d be able to help himself wondering how much the diamonds round my neck were worth. And quick as a flash, I thought of back then. The snarl of her mouth. The glare of my hands under the bright lights. I snaked my hand up around my throat and pulled at the necklace.
Not now, I breathed. It was over ten years ago. Not now. No need to think of any of that. And bam, it hits me. A creeping sadness, a boa constrictor squeezing itself tight around my chest and I thought I was going to cry. No, I told myself. Not now. I readjusted the diamonds, pulled my back straight, and walked into the living room.
One side of the room was filled with people in black T-shirts and trousers, all preparing for the announcement by setting up chairs and live-streaming equipment. There was a brief silence when I walked in, people side-eyeing me – some open-mouthed – before a flurry of movement started up again. I focused on Marco under one of the skylights, holding his camera in different positions, so that I didn’t have to make eye contact with any strangers. Still shaken from the earlier memories and feelings, I inhaled and reminded myself of what today was for. How this was going to be a defining moment in my life. I couldn’t see Ava anywhere and so I pressed zero on the intercom dial and called for her.
And then I heard Conor.
‘Lara,’ he shouted across the room. ‘Manny’s here. Time’s pretty short.’ He looked around and gestured across the room. ‘As you can see, we’ve gone big.’ I walked towards them.
‘So nice to meet you, Manny.’ I extended a hand, firming my grip around his thick, rough fingers. A fleeting look of surprise crossed his face. I saw his eyes, behind brown tortoiseshell glasses, scan the space around him; the shiny black baby grand piano next to the marble fireplace, the six Damian Hirst spin paintings I’d had commissioned and the long rows of pale grey sofas with their sumptuous cushions, arranged at exactly the same angles. He walked up to the stone sculpture in the centre of the room. I went to join him.
&n
bsp; ‘That’s a Henry Moore,’ I said. ‘Listen, Manny. I’m about to introduce you to my daughter. But I haven’t told her why you’re here. I don’t want too much from her, given the changes that are about to happen.’ He had nodded, his fingers spread across his middle.
‘Sure. I get you. Any heads-up on that? The announcement, I mean.’ He pushed his glasses even further up the bridge of his nose. I expected him to laugh but he remained silent, a serious look crossing his face.
‘No. You’ll have to wait. But let me introduce you to everyone before I get you a drink.’ I waved a freshly manicured hand towards the end of the room that led into the kitchen. I sneaked a peek at our schedule book Lily had left open on the top of the piano. In it were the headshots and names of all the production staff. Each second had been rehearsed over and over again and there was no room for error. But then I saw Joan, standing by the sofa, an odd expression on her face.
‘Manny, this is Joan.’ I waved her over. ‘Ava’s nanny.’ She looked pinched. I knew that expression – she saved it for when she was angry at me, something she seemed to be more and more these days. Normally I ignored it but today when I was already on high alert, I felt a surge of rage. I didn’t want her poisoning the atmosphere.
‘Joan,’ I said. ‘Please could you be an absolute dear and gather together Ava’s home learning for later? And tell her to come up if you see her.’ I turned to Manny. ‘School of course starts soon. Joan has been Ava’s nanny since day one. She’s indispensable and we’ve been trying to keep Ava on top of things so that she’s prepared when she goes back. Isn’t that right, Joan?’
‘Yes,’ Joan replied, turning her back to me.
‘Right then. Moving on. Let’s begin, shall we? Music, lights and action?’ I clapped my hands and just on cue, the room went silent. Ava.
She walked towards me, her legs making small, precise steps, as though she was on a tightrope.
‘Darling!’ Pride flooded my voice. ‘Come here. I want to introduce you to someone.’ She stepped neatly into the space I’d made for her, brown eyes shining up at me. ‘I’d like you to meet my friend Manny.’ She squashed her lips tight, like she was trying to stop herself from laughing.
Your Guilty Secret Page 2
