Deliver Me

by Karen Cole

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes, it’s just Braxton Hicks, I think. I’ve been getting them for a week now.’

  ‘Oh, you poor thing. They’re horrible, aren’t they? I had them for weeks with Oliver.’ Carla puts the baby down in a car seat and it immediately starts bawling. She sits down and rocks the chair with her foot until he’s quiet again.

  Abby’s pain subsides, and she thinks rapidly. She’s trying to stay calm, trying not to panic. There must be some rational explanation for all this. ‘Rob said Ellie was coming here for dinner last night.’

  ‘Yes, well, that was the plan, but she rang me about lunch time and said she wasn’t going to be able to make it.’

  ‘Did she give any explanation? Did she say where she was going?’

  Carla frowns. ‘Not really. She just said something important had come up and that she needed to sort it out. I assumed it had something to do with work. She sounded a bit agitated, you know, like she didn’t have much time to speak. Anyway, why are you asking? Has something happened?’

  ‘She didn’t come home last night,’ Abby says. ‘We don’t know where she is . . .’ She’s trying hard not to cry, but her voice breaks a little. ‘We had a fight the day before yesterday – a really serious fight.’

  ‘Oh, sweetie.’ Carla sits next to her and puts her arm round her. ‘Don’t worry. She’s a grown woman. She can look after herself. And one thing I know about Ellie is that she loves you more than anything.’

  This statement pushes Abby over the edge and she cries into Carla’s shoulder, feeling bad for every unkind, ungenerous thought she’s ever had about the woman.

  ‘What you need is a cup of tea,’ says Carla when Abby has calmed down a little. She heads to the kitchen.

  Abby sips her tea distractedly while Carla makes a few phone calls to mutual friends. But no one seems to know where Ellie is. Abby’s wasting her time here.

  ‘Let me know if she contacts you,’ Abby says, leaving her tea almost untouched and heading for the door.

  ‘Of course – and can you tell me when you find her?’ says Carla. ‘Otherwise I’ll worry.’

  Where the hell are you, Ellie? How can you do this to us again? Abby thinks angrily as she walks back through the park. She feeds the anger. Anger is better than the alternative. Ellie has done this before. A few months after the baby died, during her worst period of depression, she took off without a word. Nobody knew where she was. Rob even reported her missing to the police and they were about to launch a search party when she reappeared as if nothing had happened. Abby and Rob never did find out where she’d been. It will be the same this time, Abby tells herself. Ellie will turn up when she’s ready.

  At home, she rings the surgery again and gets the receptionist, Nicky.

  ‘Um, Ellie? I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her. I’ll check for you. Hold on a second.’

  Abby waits, making a silent deal with a God she doesn’t really believe in. But Nicky is back within a few seconds and the news isn’t good.

  ‘She’s not in her office. She must be late. Do you want me to get her to call you when she gets in?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ Abby hangs up, her self-control melting. She’s sobbing when Rob rings about five minutes later. She blows her nose and answers the phone with a flutter of hope. Maybe Rob has heard from her.

  It’s difficult to hear his voice over the shrieks of schoolkids in the background but it seems like Rob hasn’t heard anything either. ‘Have you found her yet? Was she at Carla’s?’ he asks.

  ‘I’m afraid not. She wasn’t there.’ Abby sits on the stairs staring at a spider’s web in the corner of the room.

  ‘Oh, Jesus . . . Okay. I’m coming home. Stay there.’

  Fifteen minutes later Rob is back. He flings his briefcase onto the sofa and sits down with his head in his hands. When he looks up, his eyes are red-rimmed and wild.

  ‘What the hell are we going to do, Abigail? Should we go to the police? She promised she’d never, ever do this again. She’s been so well recently. I never saw this coming.’

  ‘I think there might be a reason.’ Abby takes a deep breath. ‘I think it might be my fault.’

  Rob looks at her sharply. ‘What makes you think that?’

  Abby tells him about their argument about the cruel and horrible things she said.

  Rob shakes his head. ‘She didn’t seem that upset. I had the impression she was frustrated, more than anything. I also had the impression she was worried that she might have been unfair to you.’ He stands up. ‘There’s no point in blaming yourself, Abby. We need to concentrate on finding her. Right, we need to think. Where else might she have gone?’

  ‘I haven’t tried Dad’s yet. I didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily, but I think I’m going to have to check.’

  Rob nods enthusiastically. ‘Yes, she might have gone there.’ They both know they’re clutching at straws. Ellie and Dad have never been that close, and with Sue round at Dad’s all the time it seems like the last place Ellie would go.

  Nevertheless, Abby picks up the phone and calls her dad.

  He answers after a couple of rings, sounding a bit breathless. ‘Oh . . . hello, Abigail. I’m just in the middle of something can I call you back?’

  ‘No, Dad, it’s important. It’s about Ellie. We’re trying to get hold of her.’ Abby tries to make her voice calm. ‘You know what she’s like, she never answers her phone. We were just wondering if you’ve heard from her at all?’

  Her dad sounds mildly alarmed. ‘No. Why? Is everything okay?’

  ‘Yes, yes, we’re fine. It’s just she’s staying with a friend and we can’t get hold of her.’

  ‘Oh . . . well, no. I’ll tell her to call you if I hear from her.’

  Rob is hovering over her. ‘No luck?’ he says as she hangs up the phone.

  Abby shakes her head. She’s beginning to fear the worst.

  Thirty-Five

  ‘We’d like to report a missing person,’ says Rob.

  ‘Right.’ The duty officer is not PC Whittaker this time, but a middle-aged woman with cropped brown hair and a brisk, efficient manner. She looks like the kind of tough no-nonsense person it’s good to have on your side.

  ‘How old is the missing person?’ she asks. If she’s shocked by their request she doesn’t show it.

  ‘She’s thirty-three.’

  ‘And what relation is she to you?’

  ‘My wife.’

  She looks enquiringly at Abby. Abby swallows. Reporting this to the police is bringing it home that something serious might have happened to Ellie and she’s fighting back tears. ‘She’s my sister,’ she manages.

  The officer gives her a sympathetic smile.

  ‘I’ll have to fill in missing persons report,’ she says more gently, opening the door and ushering them into the interview room. She gestures for Abby to sit down and pulls up a chair for Rob. ‘Please sit down. I’m PC Mitchell, by the way,’ she says, shaking their hands. ‘Can I get you a coffee or a tea?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ Rob says, and Abby shakes her head. Why is everything always so slow at this police station? Why is there never any sense of urgency? My sister is missing, maybe in danger, and all you can do is offer us tea, she wants to shout. But she keeps her mouth shut. There’s no point in antagonizing them.

  ‘Right, okay then.’ PC Mitchell takes out her phone and sits at the desk. She takes down a few basic details – Ellie’s full name and address. Then she looks up at them both.

  ‘And how long has she been missing?’ she asks.

  ‘About thirty-two hours,’ says Rob. ‘She didn’t come home last night but we thought she might have stayed with a friend.’

  ‘Oh?’ PC Mitchell notes this down. ‘And have you checked with the friend?’

  Abby nods. ‘Ellie was supposed to meet her for an even
ing meal, but she called her earlier in the day to say she couldn’t make it.’

  The officer chews her stylus thoughtfully. ‘So, when was the last time you saw her?’

  ‘Yesterday morning before work,’ says Rob.

  ‘And was her behaviour unusual in any way yesterday morning?’

  ‘No . . .’ He hesitates, looking at Abby. ‘No.’

  ‘And she turned up at work as usual?’

  ‘Yes. She’s a doctor. She works at the Church Road clinic.’ Rob’s eyelid is twitching, his face is pale. He looks, if it’s possible, even worse than Abby feels. She takes his hand and squeezes it. His hand is cold and clammy, trembling slightly.

  ‘So . . . what time did she leave work?’

  ‘According to the receptionist, Ellie was still there when she left at seven o’clock,’ Rob says.

  PC Mitchell looks up, and tucks her hair behind her ear. ‘Is that unusual?’

  ‘No. She often stays late. She takes her job very seriously. She’s a very responsible person generally. Something major would have had to have happened for her to miss work. That’s why we’re so worried about her.’

  It’s true, Abby thinks with a new lurch of fear. Ellie loves her work and is devoted to her patients. No matter how angry or upset she was, she would never let them down.

  PC Mitchell nods. ‘I see,’ she says gravely. ‘Well, we’ll do all we can to help you find her. Can you tell me what she was wearing when she went missing?’

  Rob frowns. ‘I’m not sure. Her work clothes. She usually wears grey trousers and I think maybe a pink top. But I can’t be sure.’ He smacks himself in the head. ‘God, I’m so useless!’

  ‘Okay, don’t worry, maybe someone will remember at her work. Does she have any medical conditions we should know about? Does she take any medication?’

  ‘No . . .’ Rob hesitates. ‘She was on antidepressants for a while after we lost our baby a couple of years ago. But she’s off them now.’

  PC Mitchell puts her stylus down and folds her hands in front of her. She looks them both directly in the eyes. ‘I’m sorry to have to ask this. But is there any reason to think she might be a danger to herself?’

  ‘No,’ says Rob uncertainly, then more emphatically, ‘No, definitely not. I mean, she was upset that morning. But she was angry rather than anything else.’

  ‘Angry?’ PC Mitchell raises her eyebrows.

  Abby feels sick with guilt. Is this all her fault? Did Ellie take off because of their argument?

  ‘She was angry with me,’ she says, and explains about the pregnancy and adoption, leaving out the part about the messages and her stalker. She doesn’t want to complicate things. This isn’t about her.

  PC Mitchell listens without comment. When Abby’s explanation is finished, she nods. ‘Can you think of any places she might have gone? Places she likes to spend time?’

  Rob and Abby exchange looks. Ellie doesn’t really hang out anywhere. She’s mostly at home or at work. ‘She often goes walking in Ashridge Park,’ says Abby eventually. ‘But that’s usually with the dog.’

  PC Mitchell nods.

  ‘Has she ever done anything like this before?’

  Rob and Abby exchange a glance. They’re both thinking the same thing: that if they tell the police officer about the last time, she will just assume that Ellie has run off again and give the case a lower priority. But then again, they are sure to have a record of the last time Rob reported her missing.

  ‘Yes, but that was different,’ says Rob. ‘She’d just lost her baby, and even then, she turned up for work.’

  ‘Where did she go on that occasion?’

  Rob sighs. ‘I don’t know. She never told me.’

  ‘Well.’ PC Mitchell puts down her stylus and gives them a look that manages to convey empathy and resolve. ‘So, overall, you think it’s unlikely that she’s gone missing voluntarily?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ says Rob. Abby doesn’t answer. Her mind is crowded with possibilities too terrible to contemplate. If Ellie hasn’t taken off of her own accord, the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.

  PC Mitchell sighs and sits back. ‘Is there anything else you think we should know?’

  Rob and Abby exchange glances. Abby thinks about her stalker – but there can’t be a connection, can there? And she doesn’t want to complicate the issue. She shakes her head. Rob runs a hand through his hair. ‘Not that I can think of.’

  ‘Well,’ says PC Mitchell, and stands up. ‘We’ll do what we can here. We’ll start off by ringing round the hospitals. In the meantime, there’s quite a lot you can help us with. We need details of her bank account to see if she’s spent any money. Also, you should go home and check what she’s taken. Has she taken her credit card, for example? Clothes, toothbrush? Do you know where she keeps her passport?’

  Rob nods.

  ‘Good, check it’s still there and check social media. Does she go on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter?’

  ‘She’s not into all that. She’s a bit of a technophobe.’

  ‘Look at her emails, then. Maybe they’ll give you more of a clue as to what she’s been thinking over the past few days.’

  As they’re leaving she says. ‘Oh, and a recent photograph would be useful.’

  *

  It’s raining again, a steady, dismal downpour, as they leave the police station.

  ‘What now?’ says Rob, standing outside in the porch, sheltering from the driving rain. He looks like a lost little boy.

  ‘Do you think she could have gone walking in Ashridge Park and got lost?’ Abby asks. She is gripped by a vision of Ellie lying in a ditch somewhere, injured.

  ‘Maybe,’ says Rob. ‘It’s worth a try. I’ll take a look there once I’ve been to the bank. You go home and check what’s missing. You might be better than me at noticing if any of her clothes are gone. See if you can find her passport too. It should be in the top drawer of the bedside table.’

  She’ll be back, Abby thinks as she trudges home through the rain. She’ll be back at home, sitting with her feet up in front of the telly as if nothing has happened. It’ll be like last time. She almost convinces herself this is true and hope blooms in her chest as she walks up the garden path.

  But the emptiness of the silent house is palpable. Hector comes to greet her at the door, his tail wagging listlessly, and Abby pats him on the head. ‘Where is she, eh, boy? Do you know?’

  He pads back to his basket and slumps there with his head on his paws, a reproachful look in his brown eyes, as if he knows that something is seriously wrong.

  Evidence of Ellie is everywhere. Her cardigan draped over the back of a chair; her muddy trainers tossed by the door; the book she was reading, Why Elephants Cry, open face down on the coffee table. Abby picks it up and reads the page she was on, hoping for some kind of clue to her state of mind. But there’s nothing useful in it.

  ‘Oh, Ellie, where are you?’ she says aloud. Now she’s on her own, Abby is completely overwhelmed with fear. What could have happened to her sister? She sits down on the floor next to Hector and bursts into tears. Sobs rack her body and she clutches her belly, rocking backwards and forwards. After a few minutes she gives herself a shake and stands up. This is no time to fall apart, she thinks. Ellie needs you.

  She rarely goes into Rob and Ellie’s bedroom and it feels like an invasion of their privacy somehow, but she has to do this. Abby looks around the large messy room, wondering where to start. Hector’s basket in the corner is covered in dog hairs. Ellie insisted on him sleeping in the room with them, but Rob put his foot down when she suggested he slept on their bed. Neither Ellie nor Rob are particularly tidy people. There are clothes on the floor and the bed is unmade. Ellie’s dresser is a jumble of objects: her make-up case, her brush, her contact-lens case and glasses. Abby doesn’t like that. If she’d intended to go away fo
r a few days she would have taken at least her brush and contact lenses, wouldn’t she? So, if she went away of her own accord, it must have been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

  Next to the make-up case is a photo of Mum taken in a photographer’s studio when she was in her early twenties. Abby picks it up. She looks so like Ellie in this photo, the same wavy blonde hair, the same determined chin. Abby feels self-control crumbling again, the pain of the loss of her mum mixing with and exacerbating her fears about Ellie.

  ‘She’s okay,’ Abby says to her own reflection in the mirror. She has to be. Abby replaces the photograph and looks in Ellie’s bedside drawer. There, as Rob had said she would, she finds Ellie’s passport, along with an old diary from 2016. She flicks through it. There isn’t much in there – a few birthdays, a vet’s appointment. She flings it back in the drawer. How can an old diary help her? Next, she rifles through Ellie’s wardrobe but it’s impossible to tell if there’s anything missing. In the en-suite, there are two toothbrushes still in the holder.

  Perhaps her emails will reveal an appointment or a plan to visit a friend. Abby knows she’s clutching at straws, but she’s desperate.

  She makes herself a cup of tea to try to steady her nerves as she waits for Rob and Ellie’s computer to load. She connects to the internet and tries to log in to their emails. They have a shared account. A box flashes up asking for a password.

  Shit. Of course. The email is password protected. She tries ringing Rob, but his phone rings upstairs. He’s left it at home. What could the password be? It’ll be something obvious, she’s sure about that. She tries Rob and Ellie’s date of birth, then ‘Hector’ and Ellie’s date of birth in various combinations. Then she remembers the diary upstairs with all the notes and numbers in the back. Of course. Ellie has a terrible memory; she will have recorded her passwords.

  Upstairs she looks in the diary and, sure enough, at the back Ellie has made a list of all her passwords. It’s Ellie’s date of birth, but combined with ‘Ace’, the name of the dog they had when they were kids. Abby runs downstairs, types it into the computer, and is rewarded by a revolving circle of white dots.