by Heidi Perks
‘When you ask me if there were any signs,’ I tell DI Rawlings, ‘it’s that bloody memory that comes into my head, and I think that if that’s all I had to go on then did I really miss anything?’
When she doesn’t answer me, my body burns with the sheer frustration that we are going round and round in circles and somehow continue to end up in the same spot every time.
My arms feel like jelly as they hang limply by my sides. My back slumps as I reach forward and my hands fall on to the table. ‘Please,’ I say, ‘I need to go home. I want to go now.’
Yet what I do know is that, if I had sensed what was going on behind Harriet’s closed doors, I could have helped. I would never have convinced her to leave her daughter with me, persuading her Alice would be safe. I knew, more than many, how controlling some fathers and husbands can be because my own dad was like it. Harriet understood that, yet still she didn’t confide in me. She didn’t trust in me to help her.
And Brian knew so much more than she gave him credit for.
BEFORE
Harriet
On Thursday morning, twelve days after Alice went missing, Harriet woke knowing that, like it or not, everything was about to change. She was relieved that on that day Angela wasn’t getting to the house until four p.m.
She watched Brian cautiously as he moved around like a ticking time bomb. He hadn’t uttered one word since he’d walked out of the bedroom the night before, leaving her staring at their wedding photo. But she could see he was still wired by the way he flittered about.
Above her, the floorboards of the bathroom creaked. It was already late morning and Brian still wasn’t dressed. There had been plenty of times when she had sat like this at her kitchen table with her hands wrapped around a cold mug of tea waiting for her husband to appear, though never so late in the day. She didn’t know what to expect as her mind raced through thoughts of the previous night, trying to figure out if she’d done something wrong. Harriet had become reliant on Brian reminding her.
Over the years memories had faded into a dark recess in her mind until she had no way of gripping on to them again. She knew how hard it was for Brian because he told her often enough. Her husband’s support had never wavered, though. Brian would always be there for her.
He told her that often enough too.
He promised her that.
Threatened it.
At first Harriet didn’t want to believe she had problems with her memory, but Brian was insistent. He first took her to a private doctor two years ago, to a practice on the other side of Chiddenford. Harriet sat mutely as her husband described her problems, the many mistakes she made, how concerned he was for his wife’s and daughter’s safety.
‘I didn’t have an issue as a child,’ she told the doctor when he asked if she knew when it had started.
‘Well it often comes on in adulthood,’ Brian had said sharply.
Like the day I met you? Harriet now wondered.
The not knowing was frightening. Believing so adamantly in one thing but then having the one person she loved and trusted tell her the reverse was true. Harriet once found herself standing in the middle of a supermarket, frantically trying to remember if Brian preferred biscuits covered in milk chocolate or dark.
‘I’ve told you so many times, Harriet,’ he said, as she handed him the packet of milk chocolate digestives later that evening. ‘It’s the dark ones I prefer.’
The next time she went to the supermarket Harriet rolled his words around and around on her tongue. ‘Dark chocolate, dark. Remember it’s dark, Alice.’
They stood in the biscuit aisle, her fingers trembling as they hovered over the dark ones. ‘Alice, what did I say?’
‘Dark.’ Her daughter nodded as Harriet cautiously put them in the basket.
When they got home and she laid one out next to his mug Brian picked up his biscuit and turned it over in his hands as if he had never seen anything like it. Then he looked up at Harriet and said, ‘Oh my love, come here. You’ve done it again, haven’t you? It’s the milk chocolate I prefer.’
Harriet was losing her mind. By then she was certain of it. She feared she would ultimately lose everything.
‘You will lose Alice one day,’ he would often tell her.
He was right about that. Now she had lost her daughter.
The creaking above her stopped and Harriet froze as she listened for his footsteps down the stairs. Of course by now she knew she wasn’t losing her mind any more. She was well aware it was Brian trying to convince her she was. She had become sure of that over the last twelve months, since the day she started writing in her notebook.
Though it was also fair to say she had done something crazy.
When he came into the kitchen he stood by the table and looked at her, though still he didn’t speak. ‘Is everything OK?’ she asked as calmly as she could.
‘I need to go out. I need to speak to someone,’ he said, though he didn’t move.
‘Who?’
Brian gave a small shake of his head. He seemed uncertain about leaving her in the house, which made her wonder what was so important that he would go anyway. ‘Remember, Angela is coming round soon.’
‘Yes. I know.’
‘She’ll be here in half an hour so there’s no time for you to go anywhere.’
Harriet nodded. The clock behind Brian showed it was nearly midday. Angela wouldn’t be here for another four hours.
‘Twelve-thirty, Harriet. That’s what time she’s arriving,’ he persisted as if goading her to contradict him, but Harriet just nodded again. Eventually Brian tutted and walked out of the kitchen. ‘I won’t be long,’ he called as he let himself out the front door.
It crossed her mind Brian was going to see Ken Harris, who’d withdrawn his alibi, but she couldn’t think about either of them right now. Wherever he was off to it was the least of her problems. Harriet needed a clear head to work out what she was going to do next, because she only had four hours until Angela arrived and even less time before her husband returned.
Closing her eyes, she pressed her fingertips against her eyelids. ‘Think, Harriet.’
The past twelve months flickered like a movie in the darkness of her eyelids. The realisation that Brian had created a life she and Alice couldn’t escape from, the appearance of the ghost from her past, the sheer desperation that made it seem like her plan was a good idea.
Harriet knew it was dangerous to leave, but Alice was her priority. It was always about Alice. It was Harriet’s fault her daughter had disappeared twelve days ago because she was the one who had planned it. Every meticulous detail of making Alice vanish from the fete was so they could escape from him.
But everything had changed in the last twenty-four hours and now Harriet didn’t actually know where Alice was. And if she didn’t get out of there right now and find her daughter, there was a very real chance she would lose her mind, and possibly her daughter, for good.
Harriet’s story
Wednesday 18 May 2016
I fear I might do something bad.
Brian came home from work last night and rushed straight up the stairs. He was frantic. ‘Why did you leave Alice in the bath on her own?’
‘I didn’t,’ I said, shocked. ‘I’d never do that.’
He looked at me in that way he does, head leaning to one side, gaze rolling over me. It always puts me on a back foot because I know it means I have done something that I can’t remember.
‘So why has she just told me you did? Alice wouldn’t lie.’
He’s right. We both know she wouldn’t.
‘I’m worried, Harriet.’ He drew in a deep breath, squeezing his mouth so his chin wrinkled up like a walnut. ‘If this carries on Alice will get hurt.’
‘I didn’t leave her for a moment,’ I said. I pictured myself in the bathroom, sitting on the footstool, leaning over the bath and running my hand under the tap as it splashed out more hot water. I’d filled a jug and tipped it down Alice’s back, ma
king her squeal with delight, then twisted round to get her a clean towel from the radiator, holding it up to wrap around her as she stepped out of the bath. I remember it all. I didn’t leave the room. Yet if Alice says I did …
Already there’s a problem with the memory. It always starts in the middle. A small black hole appears that slowly spreads outwards like spilt ink until there is a gaping blankness in the picture that I can no longer fill in.
‘Alice is a little frightened, my love, but she’ll be OK.’
When Brian keeps talking at me the hole spreads quicker. I wonder if he knows this. ‘Hey, Harriet, don’t cry.’ He wiped away my tears with his thumbs.
‘I’d never do anything to hurt her,’ I sobbed.
‘I know you wouldn’t,’ he said softly. ‘I know. But all it would take is for her to slip under the water and—’ He shakes his head. ‘Alice would be dead.’
I screamed at Brian not to say that, clamping my hands over my ears. I would never let that happen.
But what if I had?
I told Brian we would go back and see the doctor again. I am to call him today and make an appointment. He will write more notes on me, pen it in black and white that my daughter is not safe alone with me.
Maybe she isn’t. All night I couldn’t sleep because every time I closed my eyes I saw Alice disappearing under the water. Beside me Brian lay peacefully still, his breath deep and content with his spotless conscience.
There are plenty of things I forget but never before has it put my daughter in danger. This morning I asked Alice, ‘Do you remember your bath last night?’
‘Yes.’ She looked at me oddly, but then it was an odd question.
‘Tell me about it,’ I said, tickling her in the ribs until she giggled. ‘Did you enjoy it?’
Alice shrugged. ‘It was OK.’
‘Did I leave you on your own?’ I asked her. ‘Because if I did, Mummy is very sorry. I should never do that.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You never leave me on my own.’
‘That’s good.’ My heart was beating hard. ‘You must always tell me off if I do. Maybe you told Daddy something about your bath?’
‘No.’ She giggled again, this time a little nervously. ‘Daddy didn’t see me last night because I was hiding behind the sofa.’
‘Really? He didn’t speak to you when he came in?’
Alice shook her head. ‘I stayed there until he came upstairs to talk to you.’ She looked away. ‘Mummy, did I do something wrong?’
‘No, Alice, you didn’t at all.’ A splinter of daylight shone through the window, making me look up. ‘Actually, I don’t think either of us did.’
I must remember to ask Alice why she was hiding behind the sofa. It seems an odd thing for her to do.
Harriet
The day I left Alice with Charlotte I knew that if everything went to plan my friend would not be bringing her home. On the drive to her house I couldn’t take my eyes off Alice through the rear-view mirror. I wanted to soak up every part of her because I didn’t know how long it would be until I saw her again.
Under her left arm Alice clutched Hippo tightly. Her head bent towards him and every so often her right thumb slipped towards her mouth until she realised what she was doing and pulled it away again. We had talked about how sucking thumbs wasn’t good for her teeth. At some point between home and reaching Charlotte’s house, Hippo slipped out of her grip and fell between her seat and the door. I didn’t notice she wasn’t holding him as I led her up Charlotte’s driveway.
I rang the doorbell and looked up at the bedroom window where the curtains were still closed. I’d been looking for signs that I shouldn’t go ahead. Anything to tell me that, even though I had got this far, my plan was ludicrous and wouldn’t work. If Charlotte had forgotten she was having Alice, I thought, pressing the doorbell again, then that would be a sign. I couldn’t do this without Charlotte.
Alice sank into my side and I pulled her tighter against me. Each time I inhaled my breaths felt sharp, like they were stabbing the inside of my chest. ‘You’ll be safe, Alice,’ I murmured for my benefit as much as hers. I was doing this to keep us both safe.
When Charlotte appeared, still in her pyjamas, my heart plummeted with dread that it was all going to go wrong. I considered telling her I’d changed my mind and was coming to the fete with them. She wouldn’t bat an eyelid. She probably expected me to back out of leaving Alice anyway.
Charlotte gabbled away, unconscious of Evie yelling in the background as Alice sank deeper into me. But if I pulled out now what would we do? I had been through it so many times. There were no other options.
I bent down and told Alice yet again that she would be safe. I must have looked so jumpy to Charlotte but she tried to brush over it, telling me they would all have fun and how exciting it was that I was doing a course in bookkeeping.
I knew she didn’t believe that. Neither of us did. Being crammed in a hotel on a course for the day was nothing more than an alibi. It was also an explanation Brian would fall for when he’d demand to know why I hadn’t told him I was leaving Alice with someone else. The police would find the red demands he’d hidden from me in his bedside drawer. They’d hopefully see the bundle of itemised receipts I’d always needed to produce for Brian that were neatly folded under his pants. No one could question I was only trying to help. What they hopefully wouldn’t find was the rainy-day money I’d squirrelled away in a box, buried under a conifer next to the sandpit.
Eventually I let go of Alice and walked away. I didn’t turn back. I couldn’t let either of them see the tears that flowed down my face, leaking into my mouth. It was the bravest thing I had ever done but I’d never felt so frightened.
At one p.m. on Thursday afternoon, twelve days after the fete and three hours before Angela was due, I left the house with the bare essentials, which were little more than a small amount of cash, Alice’s Hippo, a toothbrush, and my notebook. I still hoped I wouldn’t have to make the four-hour journey to find my daughter because I knew how much I was risking by leaving the house. I hoped I would track them down before I got out of Dorset. My phone wasn’t working, thanks to it sinking to the bottom of the bath, so I was reliant on stopping at payphones.
I prayed my next call would be answered. I refused to dwell on the fact it had already been twenty-four hours since I’d started trying to get hold of him, and what that might mean.
My hands trembled against the wheel as I drove. In my rear-view mirror Hippo smiled back at me from Alice’s car seat. She would be over the moon to get him back, but I didn’t know if I could leave him with her. Would Angela notice he was missing?
‘Shit.’ I thumped my hands against the steering wheel, stinging the flesh. This was all going horribly wrong. Whatever I did from now on there would be too many consequences and if I couldn’t get hold of him soon my head wouldn’t be straight enough to think clearly.
After thirty minutes I was almost on the outskirts of Dorset when I spotted a payphone on a side street and pulled over. As I dialled the pay-as-you-go number I had memorised, I knew that if there was no response I would need to drive all the way to Cornwall to find the cottage I had only ever seen pictures of.
The ringtone filled my ear but it rang and rang until eventually it abruptly stopped. ‘Oh God, where are you?’ I cried. None of this was right. He’d told me with such certainty he would always answer my calls and I believed him.
It was too late to ask myself why I’d trusted him. I had only known him six months. I had known Brian double that before I married him and look how wrong I’d been about him.
‘You stupid woman.’ I slumped down the side of the phone box, balling my fists and hitting my forehead with the heels of my hands.
The plan to escape Brian had once seemed so certain in my head that, even though I knew many things could go wrong, I never expected this. Now it was hanging together by loose pieces of disconnected thread and, as I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, I knew that not onl
y could my daughter be absolutely anywhere, it was all my fault.
Monday 4 July 2016
Brian has been given a bonus at work. ‘A well-overdue payment,’ he beamed. I thought it was embarrassing that he’d never been shown any gratitude for his commitment before, but Brian was easily satisfied with the news he shared with me this weekend.
This morning he announced he wanted to give me a little something so I could treat Alice and myself at the shops. ‘Brian, that’s more than a little something,’ I gasped, watching him count out twenty-pound notes and slide them into a long, white envelope.
‘There’s three hundred pounds in here, Harriet.’ He winked at me as he licked the envelope and sealed it. ‘You can get whatever it is you fancy. I’m going to leave this up here.’ He indicated the top of the fridge. ‘Will you go shopping today?’
‘Of course.’ I was almost jumping up and down like a little kid. I’d get myself something and then let Alice choose a new outfit and we’d even go to the toyshop. Maybe all we needed was for Brian to be given a boost of confidence at work and things might get better.
I kissed him goodbye and left him to finish his coffee while I got Alice up and dressed. By the time we came downstairs, Brian had left for work.
‘We’re going to go shopping today,’ I said. ‘Would you like to get yourself a new dress?’
‘Like Molly’s?’
‘Yes, like Molly’s. Or anything else you see that you like.’ I reached on the top of the fridge for the envelope and tucked it carefully into the inside pocket of my handbag. In it there was more cash than I’d ever had on me and I kept a hand pressed protectively over my bag as we walked through the shopping centre.
At the counter of the first store I laid out two jumpers I liked for myself and a red dress Alice hadn’t been able to keep her hands off. ‘Can I show this to Molly later?’ she asked, stroking the birds embroidered onto its top. It was a little big on her but the rate she was growing I knew it would soon fit her and it really was beautiful.
