‘He’ll be here soon so you don’t have long. I love your T-shirt.’ I went to a cupboard to the left of the fireplace which contained all the samples for our fashion ranges and pulled out a similar blue V-neck. ‘Here,’ I said. ‘Off-record, this time,’ I laughed. ‘But Matthew is working on a range too. I think this colour will suit you.’
‘Cool,’ he said, looking pleased. ‘Thank you. So, do you miss England at all?’ I stood stock-still. Although I had told myself not to think of it again, I couldn’t help but question what had just happened in the annexe. I thought I’d pieced together parts of a puzzle I’d been missing for a long time but what I’d just witnessed couldn’t have been real. And now, here was Manny asking me about England.
‘Bits of it.’ I tried to sound casual, twisting my thumb around the gold bracelet that Matthew had given me. ‘I mean, you know. It was so long ago. And I’m here. In LA. How could I miss England with all of this?’ My voice sounded strained and high-pitched.
‘True.’ He looked around, nodding his head. ‘And Ava’s father?’
‘Ah,’ I laughed, glad he had changed the subject onto a topic I’d had lots of practice answering. ‘Only a matter of time, wasn’t it?’ I sounded friendly but at this point, I was desperate, waiting for the seconds to tick by. ‘Well, as you know, I don’t divulge any of that information. All I can tell you is that he has some quite spectacular genes.’ I nodded over in Ava’s direction. She had now resumed her previous position, tanned legs dangling over the arm of the chair, Tamagotchi beeping in her hand. I noticed she still looked slightly pale. There were red lines across the bottom of her thigh, where she’d pressed her nails into her skin. I hoped they’d go away soon.
‘He’s not part of Ava’s life but he’s given me the greatest gift, so for that, I’ll be enormously grateful.’ I prayed Ava would behave. Forget about everything that had just happened but then I looked over again and she was doing a strange movement with her throat as though she had something stuck in it. Tic, tic, tic, it went. It looked familiar and then I remembered I had gone through a phase of doing it myself – after everything that had happened in England. It was my way of trying to suppress the nausea that was constantly swilling around in my stomach.
‘Do you want him to be a part of your life?’ Manny interrupted my flow of thoughts.
‘Well.’ I stood up at that point, checking my reflection, patting my face. ‘I, well . . .’ I felt incredibly thirsty. I thought of what my media training had taught me. Don’t look as though the question has fazed you. Don’t um. Don’t ah. Bring it back to something you want to talk about. ‘Interesting you should ask me that’ – I grabbed at a lip gloss from the mantelpiece – ‘because Matthew, oh – wow, and would you look at that, there he is—’ and then the door swung open and Matthew bowled in.
‘I’ll carry on this conversation with you later,’ said Manny. He was standing behind me and I caught his reflection next to mine. There was something in his face at that point. A drop in his features. I couldn’t work out if it was desire, or disgust.
‘Yo, guys.’ Matthew bounded across the room. He clapped his hands together and went up to all of the production team, high-fiving them. ‘Sorry I’m late. My dad got taken ill. He’s in the hospital. But he’s OK.’ Thank God he’d got the memo, I thought. Thank you, Conor, for catching Matthew in time so he kept up with the story.
‘You just had a shower, dude?’ Manny asked. ‘Thought you were at the hospital?’
‘Nope. Sadly didn’t have time.’ Matthew lifted up his arms and laughing, inhaled. ‘Ran all the way here from the car. Just shoved my head under the tap. Didn’t want to subject all of you to a real stink.’
‘Well, you smell pretty good anyway.’ Manny gave a strange laugh and then music started playing again and people started dancing and zipping around as though it was a party. He had that effect. Even Manny looked like he was loosening up.
‘Ready for this, my beautiful darling superstar?’ Matthew kissed me smack bang on the lips in front of everyone, bending me backwards, which normally I hated but I got swept up in it all and then as I dipped towards the floor, I thought he might drop me. I looked at him and then I felt him shaking.
‘You OK?’ I whispered.
‘OK? I’m great,’ he shouted but his eyes looked slightly red, his gaze distant. ‘Come on, sexy mamma, dance with me.’ He swung me around and I caught Ava looking at him, her lip curled to the side.
‘Come on, Ava,’ he said. ‘Dance with me too.’ But she shook her head and looked back down at her Tamagotchi. There went the movement in her throat again and I thought she might cry. I saw Manny catch the exchange, and so I went to Ava myself.
‘You OK, darling?’ She’d taken off her white robe by this point and she was wearing a beautiful navy dress with a lace collar. ‘You look amazing. I know you’re nervous,’ I said loudly, so Manny could hear.
I noticed a faint pink scar across her kneecap. My mind traced back to any accidents she had had. And then a fleeting memory. Joan, rushing in whilst I had been on a photoshoot.
‘Not to worry.’ Joan had held her hands up. ‘Just a small cut on her knee. She’s been on her roller skates. I’m just grabbing her a plaster.’ I remembered hearing Ava shout for Joan. How I’d wrestled with holding up the fifty-person photoshoot so I could go and console her myself.
‘I’ve got it in hand.’ Joan had run past me. ‘Don’t you worry. Leave it with me.’ And I had. I had told myself that it would be more confusing for her if both of us had been there. That one person should take charge. That if it had been anything really serious, Joan would have come and got me and stopped the magazine shoot. And that had been my last memory of it.
Until now. My first thought was that she should wear a pair of fine white tights for the announcement, especially with the three red lines she’d pressed into her leg. But then on second thoughts, I remembered Conor’s words and realised it showed an authenticity about her that people could relate to. I’d keep it in shot and hope that the rest of her leg went back to normal. After all, it was part of her.
‘Can we do it just us two?’ Ava said. ‘The photo.’
I took a small stem of lavender from a ceramic bowl next to us and held it up to my nose.
‘No. We can’t. That’s not the point of it. But if you are a good girl.’ I stripped the plant of its buds and squeezed it into my hands. ‘Smell this.’ She inhaled. ‘If you are a good girl then I promise I’ll spend an entire day with you doing whatever you want. How about that? Ice cream?’
‘Really? But you never let me.’
‘Shhhhh,’ I held a finger up to her lips. ‘I promise,’ I whispered and she looked at Matthew and then at me.
‘Caramel?’ She smiled then. ‘Sprinkles?’
‘Anything you like, my dear,’ I told her, a perfect smile wrapped around clenched teeth. ‘Anything at all. Just let’s get this shot done. Marco’s ready for us.’ I looked over and Marco was waving us over, pointing at the camera.
‘Just remember, Ava, our day together. I promise. Just you and me. On Thursday. Forget about everything else. And remember our little secret about Joan,’ I whispered. ‘We want her to stay, don’t we? Just do everything we prepared for and everything will go as planned. OK?’ I stroked her neck, just by her throat, hoping it would alleviate some of the anxiety that had manifested itself there. ‘Joan?’ I said again and she nodded and got up just like that. She put her arms out and we had danced to ‘Please Don’t Stop the Music’ and I silently congratulated myself for distracting her.
‘Ready for the photo of the decade?’ Matthew shimmied his hips and whooped and the whole room clapped. ‘Let’s get this show on the road,’ and Matthew, Ava and I walked across the room, hand in hand, smiling at everyone as we went. The photo of the decade, I thought to myself. Let’s just get this done. It didn’t matter what I’d promised Ava to get through the day. Somehow, I’d keep to my word.
August 26th 2018
&n
bsp; 1930hrs
‘Here.’ Joan placed a silver tray onto my desk. ‘You must eat. Keep up your strength.’ She looked at my stomach and then my arms. Her judgement left me winded.
‘Thank you.’ I didn’t look up. I needed her to leave the room. Her presence made me think too much of Ava. I noticed how my little girl had even started taking on some of Joan’s mannerisms. The way her tongue pressed down in the corner of her lips whilst she was thinking.
‘Salad. Eggs.’ She pointed to each item on the tray.
‘Thank you,’ I said again. I made a big show of typing, looking at my watch but she still didn’t get it.
‘Listen.’ She shifted from one foot to another. ‘Lara, I need to speak to you.’ Her eyes filled with tears. I didn’t acknowledge her request. I couldn’t take on anyone else’s grief and fear, even those closest to Ava, but she carried on anyway.
‘Please,’ she whined. ‘Detective Mcgraw. I heard him. He asked you a question.’
‘Yes?’
She started to cry. I looked straight at my laptop, unable to move or say a word.
‘He asked you a question about you and Matthew.’
‘Look,’ I said, ‘I can’t talk about anything. I’ve been told to keep shtum on everything. I’m sorry, Joan.’
‘But it’s not to do with . . .’
‘Joan. My daughter’s life is at stake. Please. Stop asking questions.’
She was quiet then.
‘Did they look in her room?’ I asked. ‘Ava’s? Detective Mcgraw, I mean, I haven’t been able to go up there.’
‘They did. I waited outside. I told them to be respectful. Keep it as was. They didn’t take anything.’
‘Thank you.’ We both went quiet. ‘I miss her. I miss her so much.’
‘Me too,’ whispered Joan and then I felt the energy in the house shift. I knew immediately. He had that effect, like a whirlwind. I felt it in my bones. Joan felt it too. Her body went rigid. Matthew was home.
‘Lara,’ he shouted from the hall. He looked at Joan who was still standing at the door to my study, and waved. ‘Lara. God, I’ve been down at the station.’ Somehow he’d changed from his earlier clothes into an untucked white shirt, beige shorts and a pair of black flip-flops. He looked tired and unshaven, but still beautiful. ‘What’s been happening? They took my phone. They’ve had me down there for hours.’
‘Matthew, I’m so glad you’re back.’ I pushed my plate away and put my head into my hands. ‘So glad.’ I looked up, hoping Joan would have got the message but she was still standing, staring at Matthew.
‘Joan, if you could leave us,’ I said. She nodded and pressed her back to the door as Matthew walked past. ‘Thank you, Joan.’
She walked out and shut the door behind her.
‘Lara,’ said Matthew, over and over he repeated my name. I could do nothing except stare at him.
‘Where is she?’ he cried. ‘Poor thing. She must be . . .’
‘Stop,’ I shouted. ‘Stop. I can’t bear to think about it. I told Detective Mcgraw I was on the phone to you. He didn’t think it was the reason for her disappearance. I’m not to blame, am I? Please. Tell me I’m not.’
‘Listen, Lara. We’re going to find her. OK? This is all going to be OK. I have no doubt that she’s lost. They have to find her with half the country out in force.’ He scanned the room, as though looking for her. ‘She can’t go unnoticed. A six-year-old girl? She can’t just vanish like that.’ He scraped his hair back and turned around in a full circle. ‘God. Lara. Jesus.’
‘What if someone took her? What if someone kidnapped her?’
‘No, Lara. You can’t think that. She’s lost. And she’ll be back soon.’ He sounded so convincing that she’d be returning any minute now, that I almost believed him. In fact, I did believe him. For a minute, I almost took a step outside myself and wondered what all the fuss was about. Of course she was going to walk through that door. Any second now, and she’d be right there, laughing. Smiling.
‘Sorry.’ She’d throw her arms out to me. ‘I’m sorry I scared you.’ It was totally inconceivable that she wouldn’t be coming home.
‘Any updates online?’ He nodded towards my computer. ‘Perhaps we can find something there. Want me to look?’ I pushed the laptop towards him.
‘I can’t. You look. I’ve just been on our favourite site,’ I told him. ‘Media Spy. I don’t want to read anymore. Look at the official ones. The news. Let me know if there’s anything.’
He took the computer from me. I watched as beautiful fingers tapped the keyboard, blond hairs glinting in the light. He went silent, his eyes scanning the screen. I watched the flicker of his right temple. It reminded me of the day of the announcement. The way he’d tried so hard to hold it together when he’d seen Manny, his muscles giving way when he tried to hold me. I watched the way his mouth was moving, as he read the words in front of him. And then he stopped.
‘What?’ I said but he just carried on smashing at the keyboard. ‘What is it?’ I repeated but he didn’t answer me. I heard him, then, whisper something under his breath and I wanted to ask him what he’d said but my blood had started to race around my body so fast that I felt my ears ring.
‘Matthew,’ I shouted after a few seconds. ‘What is it?’ I was too scared to drag the laptop towards me so I could see the screen. I felt that my body couldn’t cope much longer with being in this perpetual state of panic. But then I realised that this journey had probably only just begun.
‘Lara,’ he said. ‘Listen.’ As he turned to me the landline rang. The only person I’d given the number to outside of the house, was Detective Mcgraw.
‘Yes?’ I picked it up. I assumed he was calling me with the same thing that Matthew had just discovered. Better to hear it from someone official, rather than reading something from the press.
‘Lara,’ said Detective Mcgraw. ‘I want to apologise on behalf of LA police.’
‘What? What’s happened? My daughter?’
‘No, we haven’t found her. I’m sorry. There’s been a leak. To the press.’
I almost laughed. Was that it? The reason for the blood draining from Matthew’s face? That didn’t matter. I was used to it. What could be worse than my daughter going missing? And surely it was nothing to do with my past, or what had happened in the pool annexe. But then I realised the ramifications of what he was telling me. That if it was serious, it could have an effect on the investigation. He read my thoughts.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It won’t have any impact on the case. We’ve made sure of that.’ I listened to him drone on, willing him to talk faster but when he didn’t, I snatched the computer from Matthew’s grasp and turned it towards me. I could feel Matthew staring at me as I digested what was in front of me.
I recognised the website immediately. The familiar splashes of red and pink. The bubble writing at the top. I knew what was coming when I saw a telephone icon in the corner of the screen and a play button in the middle of the article. I scrolled down to the picture of myself. My mouth was open and my hand raised up to my face. It had obviously been lifted from my show and captioned to make it look as though it had been taken today.
‘I’m sorry,’ I heard Detective Mcgraw down the phone. ‘I’m really sorry and we’re dealing with this right away,’ but I had put the phone on the desk before he could finish. I had absolutely no control over my hands at all. Before I knew it, I had clicked on the cursor and I was scrolling down to read all of the text. I was frozen, but I could still hear Detective Mcgraw’s voice, echoing from the receiver.
‘It’s all right,’ he was saying. ‘We’re going to fix this.’
I leant over and pressed the red hang-up button on the phone receiver. My most vulnerable moment, out there for the taking. I looked at the comments, the counter racing upwards. And then I looked at the number of people that had pressed play. Nearly two million so far. It had probably only been up for fifteen or so minutes. Maybe I should listen to i
t. Punish myself even more. Because that’s what they wanted, wasn’t it? These people? To punish me?
I hit play and listened as my voice echoed around the room.
‘Hello?’
‘What’s your emergency?’
‘My daughter. She’s gone. Vanished.’
I clearly hadn’t been aware of what I’d been saying at all. It was like I had not been responsible for the call. I listened on as though this was all happening to someone else, fresh bits of information being drip-fed to me as the audio played. Did I really say that? Did that really happen? And then I saw Joan standing at the door, hand clamped around her mouth, trying to contain her horror at the parts that came next.
England, July 2004
I wasn’t saved by anyone. I left the club alone, facing the four-mile walk home. I figured it would be about five in the morning before I got to bed. Maybe earlier if I took the back streets. But then, I weighed up the chances of an eighteen-year-old girl being murdered in some dark alleyway. How I’d have scuppered my chances at a bright future before they’d even begun. Main roads it was.
But then I saw him again, wearing white trainers, leaning against the wall by the exit. I had thought about calling for the bouncer but when I had turned, I could see they were busy, ushering people home. I could see the lights filling up the club as people weaved out. Groups of friends, new couples, lips glistening in the moonlight.
‘Thought I’d find you here soon. Your mate?’ My stomach had pivoted.
‘She’s . . .’ I nodded my head over to the entrance. ‘Just coming.’
‘I thought I saw her. Leaving. With them guys. Out the back.’
‘You were spying on us? What do you want?’ I asked him loudly. I took out my mobile and unlocked it, ready to dial nine-nine-nine.
‘I told you.’ He pulled out a cigarette and offered me one. ‘I’m not here to hurt you.’
‘Then what?’
‘Just like I told you before. I—’
Your Guilty Secret Page 6
