Deciding she’d already intruded enough into Fiona Holden’s life, Dee declined the offer.
‘Although I wouldn’t mind using your loo quickly before I go,’ she said.
‘Bathroom’s upstairs,’ Fiona said. ‘Try to ignore the mess, if you can. My daughter has many qualities, but tidiness isn’t one of them.’
The upstairs didn’t seem too messy to Dee, but then again tidiness wasn’t one of her qualities, either. Unlike Ed, who hated mess of any kind. Another reason they’d been such a mismatched couple.
A huge work of art hung on the landing wall. At first, Dee thought it was an abstract painting. But when she’d finished in the bathroom, she paused to take a closer look and saw it was a photo collage. There must have been over a hundred photos, image after image of Annie at different stages of her life, with friends and family. The longer she looked at the collage, the more Dee realised how much work it had taken to put it together.
It told a story, starting in the middle with a photo of Annie at the age she was now. As you moved out from the centre, there were photos detailing the different stages of Annie’s life. Dee would love to get a similar collage done for Jake and Ella. She wondered if Annie might do one for her if she asked her. Of course, Dee would need two copies – one for her, and one for Ella and Jake.
She was about to go back downstairs when one of the photos caught her eye. This one, older than many of the others in the collage, was of two young girls. They were smiling, their arms draped over each other’s shoulders. They looked so alike, they could be twins. Except one of the girls was half a head taller and, if you looked closely enough, you could see she had eyes that were two different colours.
The girls were in a garden. A scrap of concrete, edged with a ragged line of yellowed grass. Sun blasting off a piece of rusty metal in the background. But it wasn’t the sun or the metal or the grass that had grabbed Dee’s attention. It was the girls. She’d seen them before. In the photo she still had on her laptop, showing Emer and Kitty when they were younger. The month before Kitty disappeared from a beach in the west of Ireland one hot summer’s day in 1997.
Twenty-one
‘What are you doing?’
Fiona’s voice, behind her, made Dee jump.
‘I was admiring this collage.’ She didn’t turn around, certain her face would give her away. She pointed at the photo of the two girls. ‘This photo, in particular, caught my eye. I didn’t realise Annie had a sister.’
‘She doesn’t,’ Fiona said. ‘That’s some school friend. I’m afraid I can’t even remember the girl’s name now. The family moved soon after that photo was taken. We lost touch with them after that.’
‘Such a shame,’ Dee said. She turned around, forcing a smile that wasn’t reciprocated. ‘They really do look alike, don’t they?’
‘We need to get your painting into the car,’ Fiona said, ignoring the question. ‘I’ve got to be somewhere else.’
Dee didn’t like the way Fiona was staring at her, and felt a flicker of fear as she realised they were alone in the house.
‘After you.’ Fiona pressed her body against the wall, gesturing for Dee to go down the stairs ahead of her. Dee hesitated, before doing as she was told. She descended quickly, tense as she waited for Fiona to shove her hand into Dee’s back and push her. Nothing happened, but by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, Dee was shaking.
‘We need to hurry,’ Fiona said. ‘I didn’t realise the time. I’ve got to get back home.’
‘I thought you were staying for a few days,’ Dee said. ‘Isn’t that what you told me?’
‘You misunderstood. Today’s my last day. I had to wait for you to arrive but now I really need to go.’
‘Remind me where home is?’ Dee said, feeling calmer now she was back on the ground floor.
‘Sussex.’
Dee started to say something about that being a coincidence because she was from Sussex too, but Fiona wasn’t listening. She’d walked into the sitting room and was trying to lift Dee’s painting by herself.
‘Hang on,’ Dee said. ‘Let me give you a hand.’
Together, they carried the painting outside to the car and, with a bit of difficulty, managed to manoeuvre it until it was lying against the back seats.
‘Right,’ Fiona said. ‘That’s all done. Safe journey home.’
She turned to go, but Dee called her back.
‘Is everything okay?’ Dee said. ‘You seem very keen to get rid of me all of a sudden.’
‘I’ve already told you,’ Fiona said. ‘I need to be somewhere else.’
‘Home.’ Dee nodded, as if she understood. ‘Sussex, isn’t it? I’m from Eastbourne. Strange coincidence, isn’t it?’
‘Sussex is a big county,’ Fiona said, ‘and lots of people from Sussex end up in London. I don’t think it’s strange at all. Goodbye, Dee.’
After she went back inside, Dee stood by her car, wondering what to do now. There was no point banging on the front door and insisting Fiona come out and tell her the truth. If she asked Fiona about the photo, she’d say it was a coincidence. She’d tell Dee some story about Annie and the other girl being childhood friends.
As she thought this, Dee wondered if she’d got it wrong. If, somehow, her mind had seen what it wanted to. Except she hadn’t wanted to see what she’d seen, had she? She had believed Annie Holden was who she said she was. Part of her still believed that.
But Dee knew what she’d seen today. Just as she knew, too, there had been other signs that something wasn’t right. The sense that Annie was hiding something. That moment of recognition when Dee had first met Fiona. That gut instinct that had always driven the decisions Dee made in her life and her work.
She got into her car, making sure she revved the engine so Fiona would hear it, and drove away from the house. As soon as she turned the corner, Dee pulled into the side of the road, jumped out of the car and ran back towards the house. As she came around the corner, she saw Fiona coming out of the house and hurrying along the street in the opposite direction.
Keeping a decent distance between them, Dee followed Fiona as she turned onto Wapping High Street. When Fiona turned left into Wapping station, Dee hurried forward, hoping to catch her before she went through the barriers. But by the time she reached the station, she was too late. Fiona had already passed through the barriers to the platforms beneath the ground.
It took an age for Dee to find her debit card and get through the barriers. Wapping only had one train line, which meant there were just two platforms. Dee tried the westbound platform first. As she ran down the stairs, she was just in time to see Fiona getting onto the train that had recently pulled into the station. But by the time Dee had reached the bottom of the steps, the train had already left the station and Fiona was gone.
Sweating and out of breath, Dee stamped her foot on the ground like a petulant child who wasn’t getting their own way. As the wave of anger passed, common sense kicked in. Fiona had already told her Annie was at the gallery. That’s where Dee needed to go, instead of chasing after Annie’s mother like some hair-brained fool without a plan.
It took her ten minutes to remember where she’d parked her car, and another twenty to navigate the thick east London traffic and find a parking space. By the time she arrived at the gallery, Annie was gone.
‘She’s had some sort of family emergency,’ Claire said. ‘She didn’t give me the details, just said she had to go right away.’
‘You don’t know where she’s gone?’ Dee asked.
‘No idea.’ Claire frowned. ‘Is there something I’m missing here, Dee? First Annie’s mother comes running in here, looking as if her world has just come crumbling down around her shoulders. A few minutes later, the two of them leave in a rush, as if someone’s after them. Now you’re here asking where they’ve gone – what’s going on?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Dee said. ‘Can I ask how long you’ve known Annie?’
‘I remember when I intr
oduced you to her,’ Claire said. ‘She was wary of you, said you’d already met. What was that about?’
‘It was nothing. I’d bumped into her a few days earlier and thought she was someone I used to know.’
‘Well, now you know she’s not, why do you care how long I’ve known her? More to the point, what are you doing here now?’
‘I wanted to tell her how much I love the painting she got framed for me.’
Even to Dee’s ears, the explanation sounded weak. Clearly, Claire thought the same.
‘I’ll tell her you dropped in,’ she said. ‘But now I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’ve already told you Annie’s not here, so there’s no reason for you to be here.’
Dee started to say something else, but Claire held her hand up.
‘Go. If you refuse, I’ll call the police and you can tell them what the hell you’re really up to.’
She didn’t sound like she was messing around.
‘Just tell her I need to speak to her,’ Dee said. ‘I’d be really grateful. Thanks.’
Back at her car, Dee took out her phone and dialled Emer’s number. She’d already called her cousin several times over the last week. Each time, she’d got an automated voice asking her to leave a message. Today, when she dialled the number she got another automated voice. This time, the voice told her the number she’d dialled was no longer in service.
She dialled the number again. And again. Each time she got the same robotic voice telling her the same thing: I’m sorry. The number you’ve called is no longer in service.
For one surreal moment, Dee wondered if she was losing her mind. First Annie, now this. It was starting to feel like one big, elaborate prank. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard. Four thirty. Emer said she worked long hours, which meant there was every chance she’d still be at work if Dee drove over to Canary Wharf now. And if Emer was too busy to see her, Dee would wait. She’d wait all night if she had to. Because she wasn’t going home until she got some answers to the questions piling up in her mind.
Finding a space to park was a challenge. In the end, Dee accepted she wasn’t going to find anywhere cheap and reluctantly drove into one of the area’s overpriced private car parks. By the time she’d parked the car and located Emer’s office block, it was almost five thirty.
It had been easier than she’d expected to find the building again. She’d remembered the large sign outside, informing her this was the head office for a company called Pitman and Pace. Dee had simply entered the company name into her phone’s internet browser and let Google Maps guide her to the office block. She hadn’t heard of Pitman and Pace before, but the information she’d read online informed her they were ‘one of the world’s pre-eminent law firms’.
A row of women, all perfectly made up and dressed in matching red and blue jackets, beamed at Dee from behind a chrome and glass counter.
‘Good afternoon,’ one of them chirped. ‘How may I help you this afternoon?’
‘I’m trying to contact one of your employees,’ Dee said. ‘She’s my cousin and I need to speak with her urgently.’
‘Her name?’
‘Emer Doran.’
‘One moment, please.’ The woman looked from Dee to the slimline laptop in front of her and started tapping the keyboard.
One moment turned into several as the woman’s smiled slipped into a frown.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, looking up from the laptop. ‘Could you repeat the name for me?’
‘Emer Doran,’ Dee said. ‘D-O-R-A-N. I don’t think she’s a permanent staff member. She’s on a short-term contract.’
‘Okay.’ The woman nodded, looking relieved, ‘One moment, please.’
Again, the moment dragged on.
‘I can’t seem to locate her,’ the woman said eventually. ‘Can you give me another few minutes?’
She picked up a phone and dialled a number.
‘Hello, Carly? It’s Tracey on reception. Would you mind asking Gerry to pop down for a moment?’
The conversation continued for some time, but Dee wasn’t able to catch any more of it, because the woman had turned her head to the side and lowered her voice to a whisper. When she hung up, she asked Dee to take a seat and told her someone would be with her shortly.
With a perfectly manicured hand, she gestured to a row of sofas several miles away on the other side of the lobby.
‘I don’t understand,’ Dee said. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘Oh, it’s not a problem.’ The woman smiled so hard Dee reckoned her face must be aching. ‘I can’t find your cousin’s name on our list of employees. But you said she’s a temp, so that might explain why her name’s not on the system yet. Gerry will sort it out for you. Don’t worry.’
Dee traversed the marble floor, sat down on a pale grey sofa that was surprisingly comfortable, and waited. Less than five minutes later, a tall, dark-haired man came through the barriers that separated the lobby from the rest of the building and walked briskly across to where Dee was sitting.
‘Gerry Boyd,’ he said. ‘Head of Security. I understand you’re looking for your cousin?’
‘That’s right,’ Dee said, wondering why the hell the Head of Security had been called to deal with her.
‘And your cousin’s name is Emer Doran?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry, are you going to tell me what’s going on here?’
‘I think you’ve got the wrong building, madam.’
‘Absolutely not,’ Dee said. ‘This is where she works. I saw her walk in here with my own eyes. I’m not making it up. We said goodbye outside and I watched her walk into this building right here.’
‘How long ago was that?’
‘Last week.’
‘That’s not possible,’ Gerry said. ‘I’ve checked all our records. No one called Emer Doran has ever worked for Pitman and Pace. Not in this building, or at any of our other sites either.’
‘She’s a contractor,’ Dee said. ‘Working on some sort of IT project.’
‘That may be true,’ Gerry said. ‘But she’s never done that here. I’ve checked all our records, including the names of every contractor we’ve had working here over the last six months. Whoever you thought you saw coming in here that day, it wasn’t your cousin. It’s simply not possible.’
Twenty-two
Emer was alone in the house. Her mother had gone to Dublin for a shopping weekend. Robert was out at a meeting and wouldn’t be home until later that night. She’d thought that finally knowing the truth would make a difference. But ever since finding out that Annie Holden wasn’t Kitty, Emer had felt more adrift than ever. She knew she had to accept what she’d been told. But she couldn’t let go of how she’d felt that day on the London Underground. The moment of absolute certainty when she’d realised she was looking at her sister. She still didn’t know how she had got it so wrong. How could you believe something so completely when it wasn’t true?
Earlier, Robert had tried to talk to her, find out what her plans were. When Emer told him she didn’t have any plans yet, he’d offered to speak to ‘some people’ and see if he could find her some short-term work. Not for the first time, Emer wondered how a man as kind as her stepfather had ended up with someone as selfish and self-centred as her mother. But maybe that was the only way it worked. Because she couldn’t think of anyone else who would be able to put up with her mother as patiently as Robert had done over the years. And despite her mother’s difficult personality, it was clear Robert adored her. A devotion Ursula took entirely for granted.
In the kitchen, Emer poured herself a glass of wine and carried it into the sitting room. Her laptop lay open on the sofa, Annie Holden’s face filling the screen. Annie’s eyes that looked so like Kitty’s. Emer had spent the last hour reading everything she could find about Annie. There wasn’t a lot, but she hoped seeing the facts of the woman’s life, laid out in black and white, would help her to accept this new truth. So far, it hadn’t worked. Because each time sh
e looked at Annie’s photo, the doubts crept back in. No matter how many times she told herself the facts spoke for themselves, she wasn’t able to completely believe it.
Shutting down her laptop, she went over to Robert’s stereo – an old style Bang and Olufsen stereo with top-class speakers. Her stepfather had one of the best collections of vinyl Emer had ever seen. Earlier in the week, she had unearthed his John McCormack albums and was planning to work her way through them over the next few days.
She chose a record and sat back down. Pushing her laptop to one side, she reached for the photo album on the table in front of her. With McCormack in the background, singing about his love down by the Salley Gardens, Emer flicked through the pages, looking at the different snapshot moments from her family’s life. Despite being a rubbish mother, Ursula had loved taking photos of her children. Emer was still young when she’d worked out the photos were a pretence – her mother’s way of trying to demonstrate she was an adequate and loving parent.
The first few pages contained photos from ‘before’ – when Emer still had a sister who she loved and who’d loved her back. She was already familiar with all these photos. She’d scanned the images and stored them on her laptop so she could see them whenever she wanted to. But looking at them on a screen was never quite the same as looking at the print versions of the images.
Too quickly, these pages ended, replaced by the rest of her life – the lonely, unhappy time that had begun the day Kitty drowned and had never really ended. Looking at her face in the photos, Emer imagined she could see the changes. A sadness behind the eyes and a hardness around the lips that weren’t evident in the earlier photos.
Before You Were Gone Page 13
