Before You Were Gone

by Sheila Bugler

  She was trying to convince herself she’d made a mistake, that the driver couldn’t be the person she thought it was, when her phone started to ring. Still in shock, she answered it without bothering to check the caller ID.

  ‘Hello?’

  Silence.

  The silver Lexus was gone, but in her mind, she could still see it. She thought this was him, the man driving the car, calling to say he’d seen her.

  ‘Emer?’

  The voice triggered a flood of memories from long ago, before Kitty disappeared and Emer’s life changed forever. They rolled over her like waves, until she was drowning, slipping back into the past while the walls of the houses on either side of the narrow street closed in on her.

  ‘Emer, it’s me. Kitty.’

  The phone fell from her hand. As the darkness crept closer, she felt it again, that shock of recognition when she’d seen the silver car and realised the man driving it was her stepfather, Robert.

  Thirty-six

  ‘Any chance I could come in for a coffee?’

  ‘Do I have a choice?’ Dee remembered when she’d first got to know him. Back then, Ed was investigating the murder of a young woman whose body had been discovered by Dee. He used to regularly drop in like this, unannounced, looking for coffee and information.

  In the kitchen, when he offered to make the coffee, Dee reminded him that this was her house and she’d make her own coffee, thank you very much. Which at least shut him up for a bit.

  ‘We’ll sit outside,’ she said, once the coffee was made. ‘It’s just about warm enough. And before you ask – no, I don’t have any biscuits.’

  She carried the tray onto the deck, put it on the table and poured coffee for both of them before he had a chance to do it for her.

  ‘I assume this has something to do with what happened in London the other day?’ she said.

  ‘Sort of.’ Ed shifted in his chair, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I heard what happened yesterday, and I wanted to check you’re okay.’

  ‘How did you hear about that?’

  ‘A friend of mine working at Brixton station got in touch asking questions about you. What the hell were you doing there, Dee?’

  ‘I already told your friend,’ she used her index fingers to make imaginary speech marks, ‘exactly why I was there.’

  ‘You were looking for Annie,’ Ed said. ‘The same reason you were in Wapping on Saturday.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Dee took a sip of her coffee, trying to work out what she’d missed. Because she knew Ed better than he realised. He was here because he wanted information.

  ‘Michael Holden,’ she said, as she worked it out. ‘You want to know if I’ve found anything out about the murder he was convicted of. You were part of the original investigation, weren’t you?’

  ‘My first case as SIO,’ Ed said. ‘Senior Investigating Officer. It was a frustrating case from the outset and I was never really happy with the outcome. Don’t get me wrong – there was no doubt that Mike had killed the guy. But it always bugged me that we never found out why he’d done it, or who the victim was. We got the conviction we wanted and I had to move on, but it was always there, a niggle at the back of the mind. This last week, it’s all come back to me, and I’ve been trying to work out what we missed back then.’

  She wanted to tell him. But she had no proof. Not yet.

  ‘I can’t help you, I’m afraid,’ Dee said. ‘Until yesterday, I’d barely given Annie’s father a second thought. She’s been my whole focus, not him.’

  ‘Except if Annie turns out to be someone else, then that might explain Mike’s actions. Because I’m telling you, Dee, that murder was completely out of character. In this job, you get a feel for who the real crooks are, the bad ones who deserve what’s coming to them. Mike Holden was never one of those. He was a decent man who did a terrible thing. Now he’s dead and I know, in my gut, that those two events are related. We missed something during the investigation ten years ago. Because of that, a decent man was sent to prison. Now he’s dead and I feel as if I’ve failed him all over again.’

  ‘You can’t blame yourself,’ Dee said. ‘Whatever his reasons for killing that man, it was still his decision to do it. That’s on him, not you.’

  Ed spread his hands open in a gesture she remembered. It was his way of saying he didn’t know what to do.

  ‘Did Annie call you?’ she asked. ‘Is that why you were in London that day?’

  ‘Fiona called me,’ he said. ‘Annie’s mother. She said a journalist had been harassing Annie, trying to get her to do an interview about the murder. She was quite upset, but there was something not quite right about the conversation. I felt as if she was asking me to do something without coming right out and saying what it was. So I decided to take a few hours off work and go and see Annie myself.’

  ‘But when you arrived at her house, you found me instead.’

  ‘Lucky me.’

  Dee felt the rush of heat to her cheeks. When she glanced at Ed, he was smiling. She looked away quickly, the heat intensifying.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’

  ‘I’ll get over it. Listen, Ed, I think Annie might be in danger. And I think it might be my fault. I was so stupid. I let that woman dupe me into believing she was my cousin. I practically handed Annie to her on a plate.’

  Ed started to speak, but Dee interrupted him.

  ‘Hang on a second. If you came to London to speak to Annie, then I wasn’t mistaken, was I? That’s her house. You could have bloody told me that. I’ve spent the last few days wondering if I’m losing my mind.’

  ‘I suppose I could have told you. Sorry.’

  The second time he’d apologised since he’d been here, Dee noted.

  ‘I was so surprised to see you there,’ he continued. ‘I wasn’t sure what to tell you.’

  ‘And the person who answered the door? Who was he?’

  ‘Louis Haynes. He’s married to an old school friend of Annie’s, apparently.’

  ‘Nick,’ Dee said, remembering the conversation she’d had with the Australian woman at the pub. ‘Landlord at the Town of Ramsgate.’

  ‘And you know this how?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Dee said. ‘Annie clearly asked Nick and his partner to cover for her.’

  ‘I can understand she might not have wanted to speak to you about her father and the murder,’ Ed said. ‘But to pretend she didn’t live there? Doesn’t that seem a bit extreme to you?’

  ‘Not if she’s hiding other secrets as well,’ Dee said.

  ‘Maybe.’ Ed didn’t sound convinced. ‘I’ve kept in touch with Fiona over the years, you know. I told myself it was because I hoped she might tell me the real reason Mike did what he did. But the truth is, I felt sorry for her. She’s a lovely woman, and she had such a terrible time during the trial. Keeping in touch seemed the decent thing to do.’

  And there you had it. Decency, kindness, intelligence. Three things that, coupled with a wicked sense of humour and chocolate brown eyes, made it impossible to forget her feelings for him and get on with her life.

  ‘I’ve been trying to get in touch with her,’ Ed continued. ‘I don’t want her to hear about Michael from a stranger. But she’s not answering her phone and when I drove out to the house yesterday evening, there was no one there.’

  ‘So what do we do now?’

  When she said this, she saw a trace of the old Ed. The one she’d fallen for so hard and so fast. A twinkling humour behind his eyes that sent her stomach somersaulting.

  ‘We?’

  ‘Yes, we. You came here today because you’re looking for answers. I’ve told you as much as I can, so what happens now?’

  ‘We could have another pot of coffee. I know you said you don’t have any biscuits but, by my reckoning, it’s almost lunch. Maybe you could whip up a round of sandwiches while you’re at it?’

 
She should tell him to get lost and make his own bloody sandwiches. Except now he was smiling and – God help her and forgive her – Dee found herself smiling right back at him.

  Thirty-seven

  Emer stood on the Eastbourne seafront, her back to the ocean, staring at the façade of the Cavendish Hotel. Her sister was in there. Just a few metres from where Emer stood. Ever since getting the phone call earlier today, it was all she’d been able to think about. She should have felt vindicated for all those years when she’d refused to believe Kitty had died. Instead, she felt nothing but a profound sadness for the years they’d lost and would never get back.

  Kitty had made it clear she’d only meet Emer if she came by herself. So Emer had lied to Maeve and told her she was going to meet Dee. Luckily, Maeve was happy for Emer to do that alone. Emer had left her at the hotel in Polegate and taken the train to Eastbourne town centre. From there, it was only a ten-minute walk through the town to this hotel, where Kitty had said she’d be waiting for her.

  She crossed the road, and walked up the steps into the hotel lobby. Groups of people sat on the sofas and armchairs scattered around the large space. Emer scanned the faces, searching for Kitty. There was no one who looked like the woman she’d seen on the train. She looked around again, searching more intently, panicking now because Kitty wasn’t here. Which meant she’d changed her mind and wasn’t going to turn up. Or something had happened to her in the two hours between speaking to Emer on the phone and now. Or…

  ‘Emer!’

  Kitty’s voice. Not here in the lobby. Looking down at her from the staircase that curved up through the centre of the hotel. Emer’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she didn’t think she could go through with it. The urge to turn around and run away was surprisingly powerful. She didn’t understand. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it?

  And then, as if she had no control over her actions, she was walking towards her sister, her vision blurring as she started to cry. Tears pouring down her face as she climbed the stairs, moving faster now, taking the steps two a time, running towards her past.

  ‘Emer. Oh Emer.’

  Kitty grabbed her and was hugging her, holding her tight as she kissed her face over and over.

  ‘Is it really you?’ Emer managed, between sobs. ‘Is it you, Kitty?’

  ‘It’s me.’ Kitty squeezed her so tight Emer couldn’t breathe. She didn’t care if she never breathed again. All that mattered was this moment.

  At some point, Kitty released her and Emer was laughing now. Joy and hysteria poured out of her, mixing with all the other emotions she couldn’t control. Grief and anger and relief. Her sister was alive and all the things that had been wrong in Emer’s life could be mended. Finally.

  Taking Emer’s hand, Kitty led her up to the next floor. Kitty talked non-stop, asking questions Emer didn’t have time to answer before Kitty moved on to the next one. It was strange hearing her speak with an English accent. Emer hadn’t expected that.

  ‘This is us.’ Kitty stopped outside one of the hotel bedrooms. She opened the door with a card key and they entered a big, airy room. Two double beds. High ceiling. A separate seating area with four armchairs and a walnut coffee table. French windows leading out to a small balcony with sea views. An older woman, tall and slender with blond hair and grey eyes, smiling at Emer as if they were old friends.

  ‘I found your note,’ Kitty was saying now. ‘I drove back to the house this morning to pick up my passport, in case I needed it. When I read what you’d written, I knew I couldn’t leave without seeing you first.’

  ‘You were there this morning?’ Emer asked. She remembered seeing the Mini Clubman parked outside the house. She should have tried harder to get Kitty to answer the door.

  ‘Only for a few minutes,’ Kitty said. ‘I saw you. I was upstairs and I saw you on the doorstep. I almost went down to you, but you were gone so quickly. I was wondering whether or not to go after you when someone else arrived at the house. Two women. I could hear them but I was upstairs and I was afraid to look out the window in case they saw me. They were there for ages. At one point I thought they were going to try to break into the house, but they left eventually. As soon as they were gone, I went downstairs and I saw the note you’d left me.’

  ‘You didn’t see anyone else?’

  ‘Like who?’

  ‘I thought I saw…’ Emer stopped speaking. Right now, she wasn’t sure she could trust what she’d seen. Was it possible she’d made a mistake and it wasn’t Robert driving that car? No. She knew what she’d seen. Which meant Kitty must have missed him by minutes.

  ‘You’re so clever,’ Kitty continued, ‘finding the house and everything else. You always were the clever one. I was so scatty and disorganised, do you remember? You had all the brains.’

  That wasn’t how Emer remembered it, but she wasn’t going to argue the point.

  ‘I’m Fiona.’ The woman with the grey eyes had come over and was pulling Emer into a warm hug. ‘So lovely to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, Emer. Coffee?’ She let Emer go and nodded at the pot of coffee on the table between the armchairs.

  Emer shook her head. She wasn’t here for coffee. She was here for answers. She looked at Kitty.

  ‘Why did you leave us?’

  ‘It was never what I wanted,’ Kitty said. ‘I swear.’

  ‘So why?’ The anger was becoming a full-on, burning rage – about everything she’d lost; the mess her life had become and the lies, the endless lies from people she’d trusted. Her mother, her sister, her father, Robert.

  ‘Does anyone else know you’re here?’ Fiona asked.

  ‘No. And who the hell are you? I came here to see my sister. Not anyone else.’

  ‘Emer, it’s okay.’ Kitty patted one of the armchairs. ‘Come and sit down. I’ll tell you everything.’

  Thirty-eight

  Kitty could barely believe she was sitting in a room with her sister. So many times, she’d imagined this moment. Now, finally, it had happened. She kept wanting to reach out and touch her, make sure she was really here.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.’

  Emer still looked as if she wasn’t sure whether to stay or go.

  ‘Please sit down?’ Kitty said.

  ‘I’ll sit down if you tell me why you ran away from me that afternoon on the Underground.’

  Kitty had been in town, having lunch with Louis and Nick to celebrate Nick’s birthday. She’d left the boys in Soho and was heading back to Wapping for her shift at the pub. She’d had a tough few weeks. The summer months were always difficult. An annual reminder of the night her life had changed forever. Some years were better than others. This year had been one of the bad ones. If it hadn’t been for Fiona’s steady presence, she wasn’t sure she’d have made it through this time.

  She’d been reading a book but something, some sixth sense, made her look up. And there she was. Emer. The sister she’d missed so much in those agonising early years when she’d first left Ireland. The longing to be with her again had been physical, an ache deep inside her that no amount of painkillers could ease.

  ‘I was scared,’ Kitty said. She looked across at Fiona, the woman who’d taken her in and raised her as if she was her own child. The woman whose life had been devastated by that single decision. Not that Fiona would ever admit that. Even now, after everything, she still insisted that taking care of Kitty had been the single best thing she’d ever done.

  ‘Scared of what?’ Emer said, sitting down on the empty chair.

  ‘Everything.’

  The memories from that night never left. They filled her mind until she felt as if her head would explode. The guilt was the worst thing. Guilt at pushing Lucy, guilt at lying about what had happened, guilt at leaving her sister. Endless, suffocating guilt that became such a part of who she was she couldn’t remember what it felt like to live without it. She should have had counselling, professional help t
o give her strategies for coping. Instead, she’d had two adults – Fiona and Michael – who’d done their best to love her and keep her safe. Kitty remembered all the self-help books Fiona had made her read, the mindfulness sessions that Kitty had hated at first but now, as an adult, were one of the props she used to get her through each day. None of it was enough, though, because no matter how hard she worked to control the dark thoughts inside her head, they kept coming.

  ‘Annie, you don’t have to do this,’ Fiona said now, dragging Kitty back from the darkness like she always did.

  ‘Yes I do,’ Kitty said. ‘And let’s stop with the Annie now. I can go back to being Kitty again.’

  ‘Whatever you want,’ Fiona said. ‘You know that.’

  Fiona’s face blurred as Kitty’s eyes filled with tears. She was able to recognise how lucky she’d been. In many ways, coming to live with Michael and Fiona had saved her. Because they were kind and loving and not messed up and cruel like Kitty’s own parents.

  ‘I never stopped thinking about you,’ she said to Emer. ‘I’ve kept track of you over the years. Well, as much as I was able to.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Social media mainly,’ Kitty said. ‘Your Facebook and Instagram accounts are private, but it still wasn’t that hard to find you. You’re friends with lots of people from Ballincarraig. On Facebook, all I did was set up a fake account and send them friend requests. Lots of people will accept a friend request without even checking how they know the person. I did the same on Instagram. Started following people you know first, then you.’

  She stopped speaking, thinking of all the hours she’d spent, poring over her sister’s social media posts. Trying to work out if Emer was doing okay without her. It wasn’t just Emer, either. Using her fake account, Kitty had also been able to find Maeve Ryan on social media. For a long time, she’d followed Maeve’s stories too. Until the compulsion to contact Maeve and tell her the truth about her sister became too strong and Kitty had to block Maeve’s accounts so she couldn’t see them any longer.