Your Guilty Secret

by Rebecca Thornton

  ‘Lara?’ He looked parched. He clearly hadn’t had so much as a drop of water.

  ‘Joan,’ I intercommed the kitchen. ‘Please bring Detective Mcgraw something to eat and drink.’ I didn’t want the guy in charge of the investigation keeling over.

  ‘This man.’ Detective Mcgraw pulled a photograph out of a plastic folder in a small, black briefcase. ‘Do you recognise him?’ He showed me a picture of a surfer-type dude with long brown hair in a topknot, a neatly-shaved goatee and a silver safety pin in place of an earring.

  ‘No.’ My blood had run cold. ‘Why are you asking? I’ve never seen him before in my life. Do you think he has something to do with Ava’s disappearance?’ I peered closer.

  ‘It’s something we’re looking into, among others. Now, please, look. Look again.’ He pressed his finger into the paper, as if his action would push me into instant recall.

  ‘I’m sorry, Detective Mcgraw,’ I said. I wanted desperately to know who he was. ‘I feel like I’m letting you down but—’

  ‘Don’t worry. You’re doing great. What about this one?’

  ‘Now, this other guy?’ I looked at the picture. It was a front-on image. He had tiny auburn dreadlocks, alabaster skin and piercing green eyes. ‘Know him?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t think so. Who is he?’ I leaned forward. I had never seen him before, but in my line of work, I came across hundreds of people in a week. Hair stylists, make-up artists, the general public, business colleagues, designers, our sponsors. The list was endless. Detective Mcgraw stayed silent, picking at his left thumbnail. I noticed the rest of his hands looked manicured and very clean.

  ‘They’re from your announcement day. We’ve been through everyone that was in your house. There were a couple’ – he rubbed his eyes again and I wondered if the strain was getting too much – ‘that weren’t background checked properly by the events agency.’

  ‘Bear Productions?’

  ‘Yes. We’re just looking into those leads now. Might be nothing. One has a few convictions. The other is an out-of-work actor and gave a false name, so we’re trying to locate him. But we’ve already questioned everyone who was in the house that day. No one saw anything strange. Or if they did’ – his voice sharpened – ‘they’re not talking.’

  I thought about Bear Productions. How they prided themselves on being the most discreet and security-conscious event production agency that all high-profile people used. Their employees hadn’t even been allowed phones on my property, with everyone handing in their cells at the door. They were then searched for any recording devices and their social media profiles checked to make sure they hadn’t disclosed their location.

  ‘Please let me know if you find anything at all on them. Who are they? What are their names?’ I thought about doing my own due diligence on them.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Ms King. Data protection and all that. Nice picture . . .’ Detective Mcgraw pointed to a photo of Matthew on the wall, with me next to him. It had been taken at Nobu, on our first date. I had been wearing a large sun hat, denim jumpsuit and heels. Matthew wore casual khaki shorts and trainers. The paps had been out in force that day.

  ‘Yes. It was from a while ago.’ I thought back to the first time Matthew had met Ava. ‘The Matthew Raine?’ she had gasped. ‘Just wait until I tell my friends.’

  ‘Where is Matthew now?’

  ‘Upstairs.’ I told him.

  ‘He hasn’t come down to be with you?’

  ‘I asked him to leave me,’ I snapped. ‘I want to be alone at the moment. Why?’

  ‘No reason,’ he said. ‘I just thought you might want company. It’s often the night-times that are the worst in these situations.’

  I thought back to the fact I’d always been watched, and how this was the first time I’d been behind four walls and not on display to anyone.

  But then Detective Mcgraw cleared his throat.

  ‘I’m sorry. So as I’ve said, we’ve got no concrete updates for you. But we’re looking into a few leads. We’ve got a few licence plates being put through the system. Cars in the area that might have taken a similar route to you.’ He walked over to me again. ‘I’ll speak to Conor but I think another press conference is needed. A formal one. Police-led. It might focus the public again. They’re going a bit off-piste. We need to keep them on this. Your absence is fuelling them. They keep going on about some old stuff. Headlines from the past. Something’s rearing its ugly head.’ He looked at me. I wondered what he was talking about. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of asking.

  I lifted my face and pushed back my hair. A habit, I told myself. Or a reflex movement at the thought of being looked at.

  ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘by the way, Ms King.’ His tone had changed, become almost jovial, like we were strangers at a cocktail party. ‘Matthew’s father. Derek Raine. Do you know him?’

  Matthew’s father? I went cold. Why was he asking about Matthew’s father? I kept very still but then I got the sense that perhaps Detective Mcgraw had been watching me in my own home. It was too much of a coincidence that we’d just been discussing him, Conor and I, and here he was minutes later, asking about Derek. My eyes darted around the room. Had they bugged the place? Were they somehow watching the feed from the security cameras from outside the house? But how would they know my password, which had been encrypted to the highest level?

  Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself. Now you’re getting totally paranoid. But I could feel my vision begin to tunnel. He had absolutely no reason at all to be asking about Matthew’s father. I took a breath. I didn’t like the idea of being watched by him at all.

  ‘God, Matthew’s dad. There’s a disaster,’ I started to say. Then I realised that Detective Mcgraw might have been talking to Manny, somehow. That Manny had been quizzing him. As Conor had said earlier, the man was a parasite. Perhaps Detective Mcgraw had been alerted that something was off. Or perhaps Conor had mentioned something whilst they strategised together about press. But no, Conor wouldn’t have done that. But anyhow, either of those two options were better than the thought I was being watched. In my own home.

  ‘A disaster? Why’s that?’ Detective Mcgraw lifted his chin. As though he knew something and just couldn’t wait to spring it upon me.

  ‘Well, I’m not sure if you are aware,’ I called his bluff, ‘but he’s in prison. You must promise me not to say a word.’ I spoke in a loud whisper. ‘I don’t want the public getting distracted. Unless, of course, they need to be.’ He nodded his head. ‘He’s in Perth, Western Australia. He had some awful experience with a bar brawl. Punched someone who later died. Poor Matthew took it very hard. He was there. Had to be a witness against his own father because there had been no one else around. It’s really messed him up.’

  Detective Mcgraw went silent. He’d clearly been expecting a cover-up from me. I’d say he almost looked pleased. Relieved, even. Like he’d been proved wrong about something.

  ‘Awful,’ he said, looking around the room again. ‘Well, glad he’s not here to give you any trouble. I’ll be off. Get some sleep.’

  I buzzed Conor from the landline.

  ‘You spoke to Detective Mcgraw about Matthew’s father?’

  The phone went silent.

  ‘What, about the fact that he’s in jail? No, course not.’ I looked around the room. Silly, ridiculous thought. Of course I wasn’t being watched. I was watched for a living. I knew when people were looking at me.

  ‘You think that Manny and Mcgraw have been talking? That Manny could have set hares running with Mcgraw?’

  ‘No. I don’t. Why?’ I shut my eyes and squeezed the handset. Not the answer I’d been hoping for.

  ‘No reason,’ I said. Along with my daughter’s disappearance, things were sliding more and more out of my control. And Ava’s disappearance or not, there was nothing I hated more than being out of control.

  England, July 2004

  The audition was the first time I’d ever
been stared at. Scrutinised. Initially, I’d felt skinned. And then something inside of me had come alive. I remembered walking out the door of the television studio.

  Ben, staring, eyes prowling for something. Me.

  ‘It was good,’ I told him when he’d asked. I had started an edited version of what had happened at the audition. The real version had been mine to keep. The real version, which involved me walking into a room filled with cameras and stagehands and stylists and microphones.

  Me, standing under those bright lights, a surge of elation shooting through me. Nothing else in the world had mattered.

  Me, clasping that cold metal microphone.

  ‘Lara,’ I told them. ‘I’m Lara King.’

  ‘And why are you here today?’ they’d asked, their faces smiling at me from behind their table.

  ‘I’m here because this is where I’m meant to be.’ I had clutched the microphone hard at that point, smiling as though my life depended on it.

  ‘She’s pretty,’ I had heard one of the judges say. ‘A real natural beauty. And look at the monitor. Look how she is on screen.’ And then I’d heard a collective gasp from the rest of the production crew as they’d all looked towards the image of me.

  I had told them where I was from. A glossed-up version that I knew they’d want to hear – more of the stuff Ben had filled out on the application form after I’d signed the contract. My story. But as soon as I’d opened my mouth, I started saying things I didn’t mean to.

  About my parents. My background. And then I saw their faces. The way they looked at each other. The way the man with an earpiece beside the camera gave them a muted thumbs up. They leaned forward. One of female judges shook her head and looked sad.

  ‘Gosh, so you’ve really had a tough time,’ she had said. She had white-blond hair in a middle parting. A smiling ice queen.

  ‘I have. But I really want this. I really want to turn my life around.’

  ‘So go for it,’ they’d said. ‘Good luck. You know if you win, you get a million-pound recording contract, don’t you? So sing your heart out. We’re all rooting for you after what we just heard.’

  And I had opened my mouth, and heard the roars, and cries of an audience far away inside my head – and I had sung.

  ‘Well, come on then,’ Ben had asked me. ‘Did you get through? Do they want you back?’ He was terrified. The new TV concept had been all over the news. Everyone had been talking about it. He knew that this could be the start of his career, and mine. A million-pound recording contract. I could make him rich.

  I thought about the things I told the judges. The lies I had told them when I realised that the story they wanted from me was a hammed-up version of my own life.

  ‘We had absolutely nothing growing up,’ I told them. ‘Nothing to eat. My parents couldn’t even give us scraps.’ They had looked pleased about this.

  I thought about after I had finished my song. The echo of my voice had filled the room, and the moment that they had told me my fate.

  The way that the cameras had zoomed right in close, lapping up my face. I had seen it. On the monitors. Just after the judge had pointed it out. My face on screen. He was right.

  My own face, I thought. I had tried so hard to hold it together. To stop the surge of feelings; the warmth in my veins, the joy, change my features into something else entirely. I had felt a rush through my entire body, better than the time Bradley Dartmoor had fingered me until I was dizzy. Better than the time I’d jumped off the pier with my school friend Tam, the wind hissing and howling in my ears.

  Better than any fucking thing I’d experienced in my whole entire life.

  August 23rd 2018

  1400hrs

  The Announcement

  ‘Welcome to you all,’ I started to speak. ‘I know you’ve all been watching, waiting for the big surprise announcement.’ I scanned the room and paused. ‘We’ve gathered you all here today’ – I looked over at Matthew, his golden hair shining in the sun – ‘to tell you something.’ Ava had been sandwiched between us. ‘If you want to tweet, it’s hashtag the announcement. Firstly, we’d love to say thank you so much for sharing this moment with us. You’ve all been so supportive and we are overwhelmed with gratitude. Thank you.’ We all smiled as everyone clapped.

  ‘Now before the announcement itself, darling Ava would love to say a few words.’

  I gestured towards my daughter, holding up my hands in a clapping motion. A chorus of aaahs rippled the press.

  ‘Hi, everyone. My mother and I are working on a new chapter now,’ she said. Then she stopped. I pressed my thumb into her back and she started again. ‘It’s just that . . .’

  For a minute, I thought she looked like she was going to be sick.

  ‘She’s very nervous in front of you all,’ I interrupted. ‘She thinks so much of you. But you’ll all be kind to her, won’t you?’ I put my arm around my daughter. She was looking at Matthew out of the corner of her eye.

  ‘Go on, darling,’ I whispered. ‘You’re doing just amazingly.’ I started to feel sweat dripping down my back. Please. Please, I thought. Not now. Not after all of this. I turned to see Joan, her hands over her eyes. The room started to shrink. I held my breath, and then she started to talk again.

  ‘As you all know, it’s just been me and my mom all this time. But, we’d like to . . .’

  ‘She’s so excited she’s lost her voice,’ I laughed. ‘Go on, darling.’

  ‘We’d like to announce that I’m getting a stepdad and that Matthew and my mom are getting engaged.’ Matthew reached over and kissed Ava on the forehead. I held her hand down before she wiped away the fleck of spittle that he left on her skin. I thought I heard a noise escape from Joan’s mouth.

  ‘And so, our next series,’ I continued, taking over from Ava, ‘will be starring your favourite Matthew Raine too.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Matthew continued, as rehearsed. ‘From now on, I’ll be putting my film career on hold for these two lovely ladies. One of whom I will soon be calling my wife. The other is going to be my new little girl.’ He waited a beat before he squeezed Ava’s cheeks. ‘Isn’t that right?’ She wrinkled her features.

  ‘And so the focus will be on building our family as a unit. And, who knows’ – he looked at my stomach – ‘perhaps there’ll be some more little additions to the family running around soon.’ He did an exaggerated wink to the crowd. I laughed and held my hands over my cheeks.

  At this point, the crowd went wild. People were standing up. Whooping. Cheering.

  ‘OK, OK,’ I laughed. ‘We knew you’d be so excited about the Matthew bit. But we’d also like to thank you, our fans, for treating us so well and with such respect. We wouldn’t be where we are today without you guys and so.’ I lifted my hands and started clapping. ‘A round of applause for all of you lot.’

  I looked around the room and saw everyone full of smiles and joy for us. I thought about the sponsorship deals on the horizon too. Matthew, Lara and Ava. The perfect three. But then I looked to Ava’s right and there was Joan, statue-still. I looked at the cameras that had been placed on us three, praying that she was out of shot and then to my horror, Ava got right up and moved towards Joan. I thought about stopping her for a minute, but instead, I gave a big thumbs up to both of them, as though that had been part of the plan all along. I couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong.

  The live feed would now be being watched all around the world. Trending on Twitter. It might even have reached the news. I put my arms around both Matthew and Ava and pulled them tight to me.

  ‘Right,’ said Conor when everyone was quiet. ‘Wow. Well done, guys. That was something really special. I think that’s it.’ Conor leaned over and switched off the live feed. He then turned to the audience.

  ‘Guys. Thank you so much. To all of you press and to the select few bloggers we hand-picked to join us today and of course the special friends of Matthew and Lara – please go and eat. There’s plenty of food for y
ou.’ There was a rush of bodies as everyone got up.

  We mingled with the guests for a bit. Matthew slung an arm around me and passed Ava some food. ‘My future wife,’ he said, over and over. He’d then handed round trays of canapés to the press.

  ‘You don’t need to do that,’ I said. ‘Look.’ I grabbed one of the waiters. ‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘Would you mind taking this?’ As I approached, the waiter flushed red and I thought I saw him put something in his pocket. Don’t tell me he had managed to smuggle in a phone, I thought. Or he was another one nicking something inconsequential from my house, so he could go back to his friends and show off. ‘Look,’ he’d say. ‘I’ve got a piece of Lara King’s napkin.’

  I thought about confronting him. Asking him to empty his pockets but as I looked closer, I thought maybe I’d been wrong. I blamed the adrenaline from earlier. Calm, I told myself. Everything’s over now. It’s finished. I could get back to normal.

  ‘No, of course not,’ he stammered. The poor thing went even redder and then I realised he’d probably just had posters of me all over his room and was stunned by seeing me in the flesh.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. I noticed he was wearing a small blue plaster over his left ear and a thin, black hair net over his hair. Good to know the events team were being thorough about hygiene but also I wanted to tell him he should take out his piercings. The blue tape looked ugly and next time, I didn’t want that in my house. But I thought if I spoke to him anymore, he’d combust. ‘Let me take that off you right away.’ He then looked like he was going to ask me something. Please, don’t. I thought. Otherwise I’ll have to get rid of the events company. But he’d taken the tray and walked off and by the time I’d turned around to find Matthew again, the waiter had left the room.

  ‘Guys, Ava’s going now to finish her home study. But thank you again for everything,’ I said, hoping they’d take their cue to leave but no one moved a muscle. ‘Back to school next week.’ I saw my daughter’s shoulders had slumped.