Child Taken: A chilling page-turner you will be unable to put down

by Darren Young

  She looked down again.

  ‘Keep an eye on me?’

  The sound of vehicles interrupted them. A siren, and what sounded like at least two cars, maybe more.

  ‘They’re here,’ Helen said, and looked at Laura, tears filling her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I just want you to know that.’

  Laura could see a flashing blue light reflecting off the snow in the gap under the garage door and footsteps outside, crunching over frozen snow. She heard some outside the door, while others filed off towards the gate and the back door.

  ‘This is the police,’ a voice called loudly.

  Laura went to the front of the garage and pressed the button that opened the door electronically. It rolled up and three police offers clambered in before it reached anywhere near head-height – only to find that the scene was far from the one they anticipated. Two of them ran past Laura towards Helen and Danni, while the third stopped to check Laura wasn’t hurt as another officer, a female one, joined them. She asked questions, but Laura’s head spun and she only heard a garbled noise as she stumbled out on to the drive with the officer steadying her arm.

  There were two cars parked at the top of the drive, and an ambulance behind them waiting for the occupants of the front car to clear the snow and open the gates. As one of them did it, another car arrived, a 4x4 with its lights flashing, and three more officers jumped out and ran down to the house. They quickly established that the scene was already secure.

  ‘Are you hurt?’

  The female officer was looking at Laura and she shook her head. They walked up the driveway and the officer helped her into the back of the police car nearest the house. She sat there and closed her eyes, feeling the soreness on her wrists and ankles, and when she opened her eyes again she could see the red grooves where the bindings had dug into her skin and scraped some of it away.

  Another officer led Danni from the garage, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and helped her into a different car. She looked over at Laura but was expressionless. In the other three houses in the cul-de-sac, Laura watched curtains and blinds moving as the neighbours feasted on the unfolding events.

  They would have no idea what was happening, she thought. But they would soon find out, and they’d be shocked that a child missing for more than twenty years would turn out to be the girl next door.

  Helen Grainger was handcuffed and being led up the driveway towards the 4x4 by two officers. She looked over at Laura, and their eyes met for a second, but then Laura looked away and Helen put her head down as she was helped into the back seat and the door closed behind her, the tinted glass hiding her now, and the 4x4 pulled away.

  The car Danni was in left shortly afterwards, allowing the ambulance to reverse down the driveway and stop just outside the garage door. Laura watched as the paramedic in the garage knelt over Robert and then one of his colleagues joined him and they began moving the unconscious man on to a stretcher.

  The female officer had been talking to two other officers, who were now stationed outside the house. She walked over and climbed into the passenger seat.

  ‘We’re off,’ she said.

  ‘My dog, is he OK?’

  ‘He’s in good hands, don’t worry.’

  Laura gave her a weak smile. The officer buckled up and the driver started the engine. The snow was deep and they had to carefully stay within the tracks that were there as they began to move away from the house, while a third officer outside the house began sealing up the area with yellow crime-scene tape.

  Laura glanced back, just in time to see the paramedics bringing the stretcher with Robert on it out of the garage and towards the back of the ambulance.

  She closed her eyes and the police car pulled out of the cul-de-sac.

  80 | Laura

  The snow made the short journey to the police station into a much longer one.

  It was still fairly dark when they pulled up outside, but the first hints of sunlight creeping up over the horizon were evident as the female officer helped Laura from the car and into the small local station, a rectangular building near the centre of the village that was little more than a series of offices around a main reception area.

  Laura looked for the other cars, the ones with Danni and Helen in, but she couldn’t see them; she wasn’t even sure they’d be brought to the same place anyway, and probably not to somewhere as small as this.

  The clock behind the reception desk said it was a few minutes after seven as Laura was led straight through the door into the inner sanctum and put in a small waiting room with three chairs around a cheap wooden table that had a copy of the previous day’s Gazette on it. Against one wall was a small blue sofa, and Laura sat down on it and waited, drifting off occasionally when she put her head back on to the soft cushion, only to be woken by her dreams: the faces of Danni, Helen and most of all Sandra, until an officer put his head around the door and asked her if she’d like a drink while she waited.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she said. The officer said he didn’t know but ran through a list of drinks available from the station’s vending machine, and she asked for coffee, which he brought. Another hour passed and she only saw the officer once more, when he collected her empty cup and said someone – he didn’t know who – would be with her shortly.

  After another forty-five minutes he came in again but couldn’t give her much more of an update. ‘The snow’s caused havoc on the roads,’ he offered as a reason, and left it at that.

  The room was square, windowless and stuffy. There was a noticeboard behind the sofa with a few addiction helplines and business cards pinned to it, and Laura began reading them to pass the time, but her head wasn’t ready for reading. It was a full of questions, feelings, contradictions; things she didn’t even want to think about and tried to force back out of her mind.

  The officer came in again, this time with a cup of tea in a white china cup, rattling on a white saucer. ‘I made you one. Better than the rubbish from the machine.’

  ‘Where’s Danni?’

  The officer placed her cup down and gave Laura a look that told her he wasn’t in a position to answer. He was tall and slightly overweight, with an ill-fitting shirt, a salt-and-pepper beard, and kind eyes that looked as though he would like to say more if he could.

  ‘Is she all right? Is anyone with her?’

  The officer smiled and looked around, to visibly demonstrate to her that he was revealing information he wasn’t supposed to. ‘She’s at another station.’

  ‘Can I talk to her?’

  ‘I think they want a statement from you first.’

  ‘When? I’ve been here for hours,’ said Laura, frustrated.

  ‘There’s only two of us on duty. We don’t normally see anything like this, so they’re sending in the big boys from the city.’

  Laura raised her eyebrows.

  ‘I’m sure they’ll be here soon.’

  Laura sipped her tea. The officer hovered around for a few more seconds and then left her alone. She slumped back on the sofa and groaned. Fatigue was trying to take over her body. She didn’t want to sleep but it was impossible to stop herself; it felt as though the last time she’d slept soundly was a week ago or more, and after a few minutes she fell into a fidgety slumber, the kind you had just before you woke in the morning, where your dreams were so vivid it was impossible to tell if they were real or not.

  She was standing on golden sand, with the sea no more than a hundred yards away and seagulls filling the air with their cries. It was a sunny day, not a single cloud in the sky, and she could feel the heat from the sun on her skin. There were people everywhere, a silly number really, too many for the size of the beach, moving in all directions; she was trying to get through them but it was like being on a packed underground train, and she was unable to move, unable to get to where she wanted to go; she wasn’t sure where that was anyway.

  Then the crowds cleared. Almost by magic. It was just her now, her bare feet on hot sand, powdery between
her toes, looking towards the horizon where the sun was in the sky above the green hills.

  Only she could no longer see the sun. It was blocked. A dark silhouette was standing in front of it, getting closer, covering the bright ball of light behind it until only a golden glow could be seen around the edge. The silhouette spoke to her. ‘Hello, sweetheart. Are you lost … ?’

  ‘Laura, Laura.’

  The police officer was in front of her, blocking out the light.

  She jumped up and felt moisture on the side of her mouth; she had dribbled as she’d slept and she wiped it with her sleeve. The officer was close; his beard was moving, his mouth opening and closing, but she couldn’t quite work out what he was saying or where she was. There was someone with him – not a police colleague. It looked like a nurse; they had an apron on.

  ‘What’s … ?’

  ‘They need to take a DNA sample,’ the officer said, resting his big hand on her arm.

  Laura looked at the nurse.

  ‘I need a swab from your mouth,’ she said.

  Laura looked at the police officer, who gave her a reassuring nod. The nurse had something in her hand and was approaching from the side. ‘Open wide.’

  Laura closed her eyes.

  81 | Danni

  With more than a dozen abandoned cars and several minor accidents to pass, it had taken more than an hour for the police car with Danni in it to reach the station, a modern, newly built eco-building on the edge of the nearest main town.

  They’d pulled into the car park just as Helen was being led from the 4x4 she’d been in and through the main doors, and Danni noted that the driver deliberately waited a minute before pulling into a space, to allow time for the older woman to be processed and taken out of sight before Danni was also ushered through the reception area. She was shown into a small windowless office which looked as though it belonged to the station manager. It had a desk, with a smart leather chair on one side and a less fancy one on the other. There was a metal filing cabinet next to the door and a photograph of a man and woman with two small children. Danni sat and waited, occasionally having drinks brought to her, for almost two hours.

  ‘Has anyone spoken to my dad?’ she asked the constable who had been tasked with bringing in the refreshments.

  ‘Someone will be with you shortly.’

  ‘Where’s Laura? Is she OK?’

  Same answer.

  Danni buried her head on her hands. Although she’d had time for everything to sink in, it didn’t seem to make any of it better. That she’d almost died was almost the last thing on her mind; it was the damage she’d done before, which was maybe irreparable, that was really bothering her.

  Another drink. More questions. No answers other than for the constable to stall for more time. Then after another hour she heard voices outside, coming up the corridor. She stood up and put her ear to the door, trying to listen to them, but they had stopped. Then the handle turned and she jumped back. An officer showed someone inside.

  It was her father.

  ‘Dad!’ she shouted, and dived into his arms.

  ‘I’ll let you have some time together,’ the policeman said, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  ‘I came as soon as they called.’

  Danni held him tightly for a few minutes, not wanting to let go, but he stepped back and put his hands on her shoulders, looking into her tear-filled eyes.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Dad,’ she said.

  ‘No, I am,’ he replied. ‘I shouldn’t have reacted like that.’

  ‘I should never have said what I did.’

  ‘I tried to find you. I looked everywhere.’ He took her hands and squeezed them. ‘Danni, what you said … you must know I could never have hurt your mum.’

  ‘I got it into my head that it wasn’t an accident. I got a lot of things into my head.’

  ‘It’s natural to want to find someone to blame in those circumstances.’

  ‘And when the car tried to run us off the road I couldn’t help but … ’

  Her father smiled sympathetically and squeezed her shoulders. ‘You were grieving. We both were.’

  Danni cleared her throat and the tears rolled down her cheeks. If ever there was a time for complete honesty, this was it.

  ‘I thought you’d done another terrible thing too,’ she gulped. ‘I thought you and Mum had abducted me.’

  He didn’t look as horrified, or surprised, as she’d thought he would.

  ‘I know about Mum’s operation,’ she added, and he nodded slowly. Danni didn’t elaborate on how she knew; that didn’t matter now. ‘So I know she wasn’t my real mother. And if you didn’t abduct me, then what? Am I adopted?’

  She thought he looked like a waxwork at Madame Tussaud’s: a lifelike replica of the man she knew but frozen in the moment, staring ahead but not seeing, listening but not hearing.

  ‘Dad?’

  He seemed to suddenly realise where he was, and blinked several times. He looked at her, his face a mass of frown lines and anguish. His grip on her hands became firmer, his skin sweaty and clammy.

  ‘She said you’d have to find out one day,’ he whispered, finding it difficult to look at her but clearly knowing he had to.

  Danni felt a chill; it ran from the top of her neck right down her body, and her stomach churned. Pieces of the jigsaw puzzle began falling into place. Then, as quickly as it came on, her insides settled and she felt a calm inner peace settling over her, as if she’d been looking for one final piece and suddenly, it was right there; under her nose all the time.

  She looked at her father – a tear had started rolling down on to his cheek – and she nodded.

  ‘Julie,’ she said softly. ‘She’s my mother, isn’t she?’

  82 | Danni

  It wasn’t a question.

  Or, if it was, it was a rhetorical one. She didn’t need his confirmation, although it was written in his eyes anyway. She’d saved him having to tell her. The only thing left was to understand what had happened.

  Her father sat down. Danni wasn’t sure if he looked as if his world had come tumbling down, or as if a weight had lifted from him, but either way he looked older, weary and beaten. He took three deep breaths, each time trying to speak and then pausing and breathing again until he finally felt ready. Then he put his hands on his face and dragged them down until they reached his chin, stretching the flesh on his cheekbones.

  ‘We never wanted you to find out like this.’

  ‘You didn’t want me to find out at all.’

  ‘It’s not like that, Danni. How do you tell a girl that her mum isn’t really her mum? Or that the sister she never knew was? It’s not as straightforward as you think. Your mum and I could never agree on it. And when she died … ’

  His voice began to crack.

  ‘What I told you about Julie was true. Your mum was very young when she had her, we struggled to bring her up, she got into a lot of trouble and she died.’

  Danni didn’t say anything. She pulled the other chair from behind the desk until it was in front of her father and sat down on it, and took his hands.

  ‘Your mum always blamed herself, thought she should have been a better mother.’

  ‘She was young. You both were.’

  ‘In those days, there wasn’t the support people have now. We did our best but, as Julie got older, she became … ‘ he mumbled ‘ … rebellious, lost; angry.’

  Danni gripped his hand a little tighter.

  ‘We had always wanted more children. We even thought a brother or sister might calm Julie down. But with all the problems, even though we tried, it didn’t happen.’

  Danni nodded.

  ‘Then, one day, your mum started having a lot of pain – you know, down there. They said it was related to having Julie when she was so young and they did some tests.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘They said her ovaries had been damaged and she was unlikely to get pregnant again.’

  ‘S
o she had the hysterectomy?’

  He nodded sadly.

  ‘A partial one. We’d all but given up on having another baby anyway, and, although it broke her heart, the operation was for the best. She was in so much pain.’

  ‘It must have been terrible.’

  ‘The pain went away and instead she became more and more depressed. She thinks that was what drove Julie away in the end.’

  ‘Away?’

  ‘She was a wreck. She couldn’t look after a teenage daughter, especially one who had so many issues. Julie was sixteen, she’d been virtually kicked out of school, was mixing with the wrong people who had got her into all kinds of drugs, and then there was all this going on at home. One day, she said she had an interview at the Careers Office, left the house and we didn’t see her again.’

  ‘Ever?’

  He shook his head. ‘She’d taken some clothes and emptied her building society account. We searched for her, got in touch with everyone in her circle of so-called friends, but they either didn’t want to tell us or they didn’t know themselves. She didn’t want to be found.’

  ‘So Mum contacted a missing persons charity?’

  ‘What?’

  Danni’s body was shaking. She didn’t answer and let him continue.

  ‘So for two years we heard nothing other than a card at Christmas saying she was all right and not to worry. But the next Christmas, there was no card.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I said she’d probably decided to make a complete break, but your mum knew it was more than that. We called people and tried to find a way to contact her but it was hopeless. And then, on the New Year’s Eve, in the afternoon, there was a knock at the door.’

  He composed himself. A tear formed in Danni’s eye.

  ‘It was this lad, eighteen maybe, with this little girl in his arms.’

  A large tear ran down his face. Danni fought back hers.

  ‘Julie had left because she was pregnant. She was scared to tell us so she and this lad went to live with his mother in Weston. They had lived hand-to-mouth but she just couldn’t stay off the drugs. She’d become an addict, he told us.’