by Darren Young
He hurled the cup.
It wasn’t at her; she could see in his eyes that he was being careful about that. It flew into the wall to her right, narrowly missing a picture that hung there, and spots of tea lay along its trajectory as it shattered into dozens of pieces that showered down on to the kitchen tiles.
For a moment, time stood still. Danni stared at her father, unsure what to do. He looked at her and then at the wall and down at the pieces of porcelain scattered across the floor.
‘I’m sorry.’
She looked at him, feeling her eyes welling up. She walked past him and out of the house, climbed into her car and pulled away, not even looking to see if there were any other cars around.
It felt as though she was halfway to Sam’s before she took her next breath.
29 | Laura
Laura hadn’t planned on spending the night away from home.
She left High Cliffs House and Sandra Preston in the middle of the afternoon, feeling the drop in temperature and seeing the first white flakes as she got into her car. She was hungry, but the sky was a white blanket of snow and she knew her best option was to leave for home as quickly as possible. But, even by the time she reached the main road a mile and a half from the building, the snow had begun to fall heavily and a radio report said it was going to get worse the further north you travelled.
In the distance, she could see brake lights coming on. She pulled over to check the weather app on her phone and it was full of yellow warning signs. A lorry went past her and, when it came to stop a hundred yards ahead, its wheels skidded on the fresh snow and it slid momentarily from side to side. It was enough to convince Laura that it was too much of a risk to try to carry on, so she turned around and went back in the direction of High Cliffs House to find a hotel in the nearest town.
There was only one, and when Laura got there she took the last single room they had and went straight into the restaurant and ordered a meal. When she went up to her room an hour later, it was a small corner one with a tiny desk and portable TV that had terrible reception because of the weather, so she took out her laptop and began turning the pages of notes she’d made from the interview into something resembling an article.
She knew that David would have no use for it, and the local papers had already run a basic piece on the twentieth anniversary less than eighteen months earlier, so she thought hard about a fresh perspective that didn’t just tell people what they already knew.
Laura intended to send her article to the local papers in the town where Jessica had gone missing, and, if it was good enough, she hoped they might want to use it and pay her a freelance fee – which would come in useful, as the Gazette wouldn’t cover her expenses and the overnight stay had just doubled them. Eventually, after several false starts and deletions, she settled on a way to tell Sandra’s story and typed out the article before falling into her bed at around twenty past midnight, only stopping to call her mother and tell her she had decided to stay at a friend’s house for the night.
When she woke, the Sunday morning rain and warmer temperatures had cleared the snow from the roads, and she made an early start, her thoughts turning to Sandra Preston several times during the four-hour drive. The interview had been thorough but she could still have sat there longer and gone much deeper; Sandra had seemed happy to sit and talk all day and Laura had eventually had to make an excuse to get away. But, it was perfectly understandable, she thought, because it didn’t seem as if Sandra got any real opportunities to talk about Jessica. Laura doubted that Bloody Mary or any of the other patients would be good listeners, and the staff had been working hard just to keep things under control. She also knew that she’d only done the interview because she’d felt sorry for Sandra, and that it was time to send the article off and move on.
The next day, further evidence of her new position in David’s thinking came when she was invited for the first time ever to the Monday morning meeting, and handed a new lead to follow. The lead was about some leakages in the town’s water pipes. Some locals had set up a Facebook page where they posted photographs of cracked or leaking pipes. The idea, as far as Laura could tell, was to shame the council, and the water company that owned the pipes, into fixing them. The social media page was claiming that the issue was putting an extra twenty pounds on to the average water bill and, as tended to happen with this kind of thing, it had already garnered over a thousand ‘likes’ and nearly a hundred comments saying how disgusting it all was. It felt to Laura like a million miles from missing children stories, from shopping centres or beaches, and she found it hard to take it seriously, especially when a five-minute call with a water company employee told her that such leaks were very common, had no impact on bills at all, and that the company had actually budgeted to lose more water than they did each year from damaged pipes.
Despite the calculations and accusations that were all over the internet page, it really was an insignificant story and she knew it, but she did the local people the courtesy of making a few calls and getting some quotes. She knew that the people who had posted on Facebook wouldn’t want to let the facts get in the way of a good story, and the council and water company would insist on the paper getting the details right and setting the record straight, but when she checked some of the figures she had been given by the water company against some published OFWAT data it merely added weight to the corporate argument, as the lost water volumes were, comparatively, some of the lowest in the whole country.
In the end, she decided to write a story that was fair to both parties. She would include all the facts and figures but also highlight that there were pipes leaking a lot of water and that was a waste no matter how positively the water company spun it. As she began typing, she knew that it would be lucky to make the website, let alone the front page.
Her mind kept wandering back to Sandra and some of the things that she had said during the interview. She took out a second notebook she’d used for Sandra’s interview, and began making some notes about further questions she might ask and changes she might make to the article she was going to send out that evening. When the clock reached the time when she usually went for her lunch break, she saw she had committed twelve lines to the water article and spent at least two hours looking at pages on Google about Jessica Preston.
‘You coming to lunch?’
The question made her jump. She had never been asked before if she wanted to join the others on their lunch break; she was clearly one of them now. She told them she’d catch them up and quickly deleted the history on her browser just in case David decided to check it.
If he had, he would have found numerous searches relating to the police activity, reports that had been made public and articles in the press at the time. Laura was shocked how little Jessica’s story had been reported nationally; after the first few weeks it had virtually disappeared from the news in much the way as the little girl had disappeared from the beach. There had been no body found, yet as soon as her washed-up hat was discovered, the police detective in charge, and the assorted media, had settled quickly on that conclusion. Laura had researched drowning and found that although a body not turning up was possible, it was still relatively rare for it not to happen eventually.
When she got back from her lunch – a sandwich in the building’s canteen with half a dozen of the Gazette’s staff – she focused on her article about the water dispute for a few hours and emailed the final draft to David, and then watched as he reacted to the ‘incoming mail’ ping on his computer and opened her document and began reading it.
Laura felt she’d finally been accepted. The editor smiled and she imagined he was impressed at the way she’d diplomatically served both sides on the issue.
The trouble was, there was now only one story on her mind.
And it wasn’t that one.
30 | Laura
‘Does Angela like her new job, then?’
Laura sat in the kitchen, about to put a spoonful of vegetable soup in her mouth when her mother ask
ed, and for a second she wasn’t sure what had prompted the question. Then she remembered: as far as her mother knew, Angela was the friend she had stayed with on Saturday night, and she’d recently taken up a new role with a fashion magazine in Manchester.
‘Uh-huh.’
Laura’s mother sat down at the table with her own bowl. Laura watched her sprinkle pepper on to her soup and look up at her. ‘What’s up?’
Laura hated lying, especially to her mother. ‘I didn’t stay with Angela on Saturday.’
Helen looked at her with a puzzled frown. ‘No?’
Laura swallowed and shook her head. ‘It’s a long story,’ she said, ‘but I wanted to surprise you and it didn’t quite work out as planned.’
‘So where were you?’
‘Devon.’
Her mother stopped eating and put her spoon down. Laura knew she wouldn’t be happy that she had done that kind of journey on her own, or without telling them beforehand.
‘I was doing an interview … for a story.’
‘In Devon?’
‘I knew you’d worry if you knew I was going.’
‘Why would the Gazette want you to interview someone in Devon?’
Laura explained how it had transpired, how she’d had the idea for the piece and how she had taken on the interview herself after Rebecca Holden had been found.
‘Goodness.’
‘I couldn’t just cancel on her. Not after what she’s been through.’
‘I can’t believe you lied about it.’
Apart from the odd tiny white lie Laura hadn’t been dishonest with her mother before, and she could see the disappoint ment in her eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but I thought you’d try to talk me out of going.’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘Because David didn’t agree to it? Or because I had to pay my own travel?’
Helen sighed. ‘I know you don’t earn enough to do what you did.’
‘I just thought it was worth it. Are you angry with me?’
‘Angry? No, of course not.’
Laura thought she looked angry.
‘I wish you’d told us. You could have taken your dad’s car and we could have got you a better hotel.’
Laura smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry. And there’s only one hotel anyway.’
Helen began eating her soup again and her expression softened. ‘Just promise me you’ll tell me in future.’
Laura promised she would and they continued eating. Her mother cut them both a slice of home-made bread. ‘Now, tell me about this poor woman.’
Laura gave her mother a brief summary of the interview with the girl’s mother and of the disappearance of Jessica Preston. ‘Do you remember hearing about it?’ she asked.
Helen thought about it for a few seconds.
‘Not really. It’s a long time ago. I might have seen it on the news but I don’t remember, if I’m honest.’
‘I don’t think many people do. That’s what Sandra said. It didn’t get the coverage it would now.’
‘Times have changed.’
‘It’s such a sad story.’
Helen nodded. ‘I can’t imagine what she’s gone through.’
‘Still going through,’ said Laura. ‘She pretends she’s strong, but she can’t face it really. She’s staying in the mental health unit to avoid facing reality.’
‘That the girl died?’
‘More that she lost her. She’s convinced she’s still alive.’
Helen raised her eyebrows.
‘I know. But she’s certain of it. She thinks someone took her.’
‘Took? From a beach? With people around?’
‘I know,’ said Laura, ‘but there’s no proof she drowned either.’
‘So why isn’t she looking for her?’
Laura put her hand under her chin and stared at her mother. ‘That’s what I said.’
‘And?’
Laura shrugged.
‘She’s tired of the heartache, I think. But, if she’s right, then her daughter could be out there somewhere and doesn’t even know it.’
‘After all this time?’
Laura nodded.
‘She could be anywhere in the world.’
‘But just imagine if someone tracked her down. Talk about the story of the century.’
Helen smiled, as if she’d read her daughter’s mind. ‘The police couldn’t find her. What chance has anyone else?’
‘But if they did.’
‘Who’s they? Anyone I might know?’
Laura smiled. Her mother had always liked to tease her, and it was such a long shot, it was barely worth thinking about.
‘You never know, Mum.’
‘I know that it’s big. Too big for David.’
‘Tell me about it.’
Her mother looked sad and Laura asked her what was wrong.
‘I said this would happen,’ Helen replied, ‘when your dad put a word in for you at the paper.’
‘Said what would happen?’
‘The Gazette. I always said it would hold you back.’
‘We all have to start somewhere – you said so yourself, remember?’
‘I know I did. But it’s obvious that you want more than it can offer. The Gazette won’t even pay for your petrol to Devon.’
‘It’s not a local story.’
Helen got up and began putting their bowls into the dishwasher. ‘I wanted to send you to a top university. In America.’
‘You never said.’
‘We talked about it, at the time.’
‘You did?’
‘But you wanted to do it on your own.’
‘I did. I do.’
‘I know you have. But I can’t help thinking that if we’d pushed you, if we’d helped you go to America, you’d be writing bigger stories now rather than having to chase million-to-one shots and pay your own travel costs.’
‘It’s a big if,’ said Laura, ‘but I have a job, things are looking up and I’m really enjoying working on this article.’
‘You’re still working on it? I thought it wasn’t local.’
‘I’ve written up the interview. And I’m sending it to the papers in Devon, see if they want to publish it.’
Helen looked surprised, or impressed; Laura couldn’t quite tell which. ‘Good for you.’
Laura smiled at her. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I’ve got to pay for that petrol somehow.’
31 | Danni
Danni felt more at home at Sam’s than at her own house.
It had only been a few days, but she was comfortable and they were enjoying each other’s company. She knew that it would be easy to extend her stay, but she mustn’t. She needed to begin making some plans of her own.
‘You know you can stay as long as you want?’ Sam asked when she told her this.
‘I know. But it feels like I’m putting off moving forward. And Leo will be back soon and I’ll be in the way.’
Leo was Sam’s new boyfriend, whom she’d met at work. He worked at a sports management company – Danni had no idea what that meant – and travelled a lot. His latest project had taken him to the Middle East and he’d been there for six weeks, during which time he’d been back in the UK on two occasions. He was due back permanently in a fortnight anyway, but he’d tried to get Sam to travel to Dubai for a weekend and she’d resisted, something Danni had not understood.
‘I just want to see how it goes first,’ said Sam, ‘before I start flying across the world to see him.’
‘But think of the shopping!’ Danni laughed.
‘Where will you go, anyway?’
‘Dunno. Home at first, I suppose. Wherever that is.’
‘I can’t believe he wants to leave that house,’ Sam said, and opened a large box of chocolates that she insisted had to be emptied before the evening was over.
‘He emailed me today.’
‘Is that his new way of avoiding arguments?’
Danni smiled.
‘He said all he’s trying to do is get a smaller place – an apartment – and rent the house out as a holiday home.’
‘Cosy.’
‘I had an email about an interview too.’
‘What? Where?’
‘Southampton.’
Sam looked at her, demanding more information. Danni explained that a company that supplied the dental practice had asked her to come for an interview. Their sales director had been at the practice during Danni’s shift a few weeks before her mother died, and when his appointment with the practice manager had been delayed he had watched her handling patients and started talking to her about a new position they had coming up. ‘He said I would be great for it. So he took my email address and said he’d let me know after they advertised.’
‘Sounds more like he was hitting on you.’
‘Not everyone thinks like you! Anyway, they put an advert in the paper two weeks ago and they’re interviewing on Thursday.’
‘Did you apply?’
‘He said I didn’t need to.’
‘Are you going?’
‘I wasn’t sure,’ said Danni, ‘but the way things are, what have I got to lose? I like my job, but it would be really good to move into something with more prospects, and with a bigger company. And the job they’re hiring for has far more responsibilities – and better pay.’
The next day she went back to the house to collect her favourite blue suit for the interview and her father came out of the study to apologise about throwing the cup.
‘I was just frustrated. About a lot of things,’ he said, blushing. ‘I’ve never tried to shut you up. You or your mum.’
‘I heard you talking,’ Danni blurted out, ‘that night I split up with Euan.’
He frowned and gazed out of the window, trying to recall.
‘You and Mum were arguing,’ she helped. ‘And I heard you.’
‘I’m sure what you heard, Danni, was just a minor disagreement. We did have them from time to time, you know.’
Danni wasn’t sure they did. ‘What was it about?’
‘I can’t even remember. It can’t have been that important.’
