by J. S. Law
“It was at the time, but it was a while ago now and we’ve talked it through many times. It’s old news.”
“Did she have boyfriends on board?” John asked.
Sarah looked at Dan and then back up at John. “I don’t think she was seeing any of the guys. She sometimes worked out with the leading physical training instructor, LPT Mark Coker. They were friends, used to hang around a fair bit.”
“And the girls?” asked John.
Sarah frowned.
“I’m not sure exactly what you mean by that,” she said.
“We have to ask,” said Dan, softening her voice. “There’s a number of things that increase risk when we consider a missing person, and sexuality is, unfortunately, even in this day and age, still one of them. Particularly if it’s not widely known or the person isn’t out.”
Sarah nodded. “Okay, well I’m pretty certain that SA Moore was straight, though I wasn’t that close to her and I wouldn’t ever ask.”
John nodded.
“Were you aware of any problems at all? Did she ever talk to you about feeling depressed, or stressed? I don’t mean just that day, I mean ever, at any time?”
“She had her moments with her line manager, Petty Officer Black, but don’t we all. They work closely together in the stores office, so occasionally there were grumbles, but who doesn’t fall out with their boss from time to time?”
“So nothing you’d call significant or recent?” asked Dan.
Sarah seemed to think about this before looking back up, her lips pursed. “No, I don’t think so. She was always quite happy and bright. She seemed to like it here, and the ship’s company warmed to her quite quickly, so far as I could tell.”
“Has she ever been absent from place of duty before?” asked John.
Sarah drew in a deep breath and pursed her lips again. Her eyes dropped away from John and down to her desk.
“Sarah?” said Dan.
Sarah was still not looking at her, and Dan prompted her again.
“Kind of,” said Sarah. “Look, I don’t want to get her in any more trouble, but we have to look after each other, don’t we? There’s not many girls on board, and I’m the most senior.”
“What happened?” asked Dan.
“Nothing like this, but she didn’t show up to work one day. I called her and she didn’t answer her phone—well, not straightaway.”
Sarah paused.
“And?” said Dan.
“Well, she eventually called me back a few hours later, apologized, and headed back to the ship.”
“So what did you do?”
Cox looked sheepish.
“I completed and authorized a leave chit in retrospect,” she said, looking away when she saw Dan raise an eyebrow. “People have problems. Sometimes things just happen. If it became a regular thing, taking the piss, then I’d take action, but it didn’t seem worth seeing a young girl who’d just joined the ship go under puns for the sake of a day’s leave. Things on board are hard enough, we were due to deploy and I didn’t think the commanding officer’s first proper meeting with her should be when she was marched into his table to be weighed off.”
“Does Commander Ward know?” asked John, his voice grim.
“No.”
Dan thought for a moment. “Okay, well, no harm done, but thank you for telling us now.”
Sarah looked at Dan, grateful for that response.
“You know I’m going to have to tell your commanding officer, though,” said Dan, watching Sarah’s eyes drop again in acknowledgment. “He’ll need to know. It’s important.”
Sarah’s shoulders drooped, but she seemed to accept it, looked as though she’d known when she’d confessed that this would be the case.
“So, Sarah.” John’s voice had also softened. “Talk us through all you know that happened on Friday. Do it in chronological order if you can. I need to know her movements, as you understand them, and I need to know who else you think we should be talking to. Who saw her? Who knew her? Who were her friends?”
10
Natasha Moore—Late September (three months before disappearance)
Natasha had headed to the ship early. She wanted to drop her stuff on her bunk and maybe check in with Beverly Shott and Sam Derbyshire, two of the girls who shared her cabin, before they went off to work for the day.
They both worked in the Marine Engineering Department, and so she wouldn’t see them until at least lunch and maybe not then.
She wanted to see what the plans were for the night, and she knew if she went down to the stores office, Gary Black would have her down there talking for hours and she’d never get away from him ever again, would never see another human being until the end of time, or the end of the day at the very least.
Sometimes, when she was trapped down there listening to him talking and telling stories, the end of time and the end of the shift could feel very similar.
Jason carpooled again that morning and now Natasha couldn’t shake the feeling she had about “Susi.”
She didn’t do jealousy, it wasn’t her thing, but she felt like she knew the girl because Jason talked about her so bloody much. At first it hadn’t bothered Natasha. She was making new friends, so why shouldn’t he? It also crossed her mind that it might be worse if he never mentioned her, like there was some secret to be hidden, but it’d worn a little thin this last day or so and the fact that it was still on her mind now proved it was becoming a problem.
Her mum and her various stepdads had spent their whole lives lying to each other, cheating on each other, scoring points and knocking lumps off each other every Friday and Saturday night.
Natasha remembered her and her sister standing between them as kids, still in their nightdresses, crying and trying to hold their parents apart as the screaming and shouting raged back and forth like mortar shells flying overhead. She’d be damned if she’d let her life go that way. She looked down at her phone, which had a tiny bit of signal, and sent a quick text.
Can’t wait to be home in bed with you tomorrow night xx I’ll make sure you’ll be glad to have me home too;-) xx
She watched it send and then pocketed her phone and walked into the ship, dropping down to 3-deck and heading for her cabin. She checked her watch, had loads of time, and climbed back up the steel ladder to head for the junior rates’ mess.
The mess was a large area, three large areas, actually, all joined together, but with dividers that could be dragged across if needed. It was shared by all the junior rates on board, and she knew that Bev and Sam sometimes went in there after they’d had breakfast to grab a coffee.
She walked along 2-deck, humming to herself and checking her phone when she thought it vibrated in her pocket. It hadn’t, and she popped it back in.
As she approached the mess she could hear voices, more of them and louder than she’d heard before, but then a lot of people were staying on board tonight, so it made sense that a lot of people would’ve come in early to drop off gear before the daily routine really got going. She was sure her phone buzzed again, sure she felt it vibrate in her pocket, and she stopped to dig it out again. This time it had, she must have picked up a tiny bar of signal, and there was a text from Jason, his name displayed on the screen. She unlocked the phone to read it.
“It’ll be tonight, I’m telling you,” came a loud voice from the mess. “My money’s on tonight for sure.”
Natasha smiled as she heard laughter, fumbling to read the text quickly so she could go and join in.
“Mate, she’s not the sort. I’m telling you. It’ll take way longer.”
Natasha read the text—Jason loved her too—and walked into the junior rates’ mess.
The noise carried on for a few more seconds, then stopped as people saw her.
“What?” she asked, frowning at them.
No one answered.
“What’s up?” she asked, starting to worry.
“Totes awks,” said someone she couldn’t see.
&
nbsp; She looked around.
Bev and Sam were sitting together on the long green-cushioned bench seats that ran around the perimeter of the mess. They were smiling, but awkwardly, Bev not quite looking at her, but Sam having no problem meeting her eye.
She looked to her right, where a noticeboard hung full to the brim with papers and flyers. One of the other marine engineers was standing there.
He was looking sheepish, a pen in his hand, his eyes flitting around the room; he’d been caught doing something that he knew he shouldn’t.
Natasha walked over to him and looked at what he was doing.
On the noticeboard was a piece of A4 paper with a table printed on it. The title at the top of the page was TASHA’S PASH and the table was broken down into three columns. The first was a date, starting with today, the next column was headed THE PASH, and the third was a selection: HJ/BJ/HWS/BW—BONUS RW.
Natasha grabbed the piece of paper off the board and looked at it.
“You’re betting on when I’ll do the dirty on my fiancé?” she asked, to no one in particular.
“It’s just a joke,” said Sam. “We do it when all new girls come on board all loved-up and getting married.”
“How much is it for me to take ‘never,’” asked Natasha, crumpling the paper up. “You lot are idiots.”
There was silence, but murmurs started again when instead of storming out, she walked over and sat down next to Bev.
“It’s just a daft joke,” said Bev, as soon as Natasha sat.
“Yeah, well, Jason wouldn’t laugh if he found out,” Natasha said. “He’s really pissy about me staying out tonight.”
“I thought you said he was shagging some bird from the hotel he’s working at,” said Sam.
Natasha let her jaw drop.
“I did not say that,” she said, and slapped Sam gently on the leg. “Bitch.”
They laughed together.
“You know,” whispered Natasha, looking around to make sure no one else was paying attention to them, “I don’t even know what all that stuff on the form stands for. It looks like the letters written on the side of pencils.”
Bev chuckled and leaned forward, as did Sam. They were the only three girls in the mess, and someone shouted, “The coven convenes!” from behind them, but they paid no attention to whoever it was.
“Well,” began Bev. “It goes: HJ/BJ/HWS/BW, which is, hand job, blow job, hot-willy sex, brown wings, and the bonus was the red wings.”
Natasha sat back from them both, recoiling.
“That is really gross.”
“It is a bit,” agreed Bev, “but these morons think it’s funny.”
She gestured to the male sailors around them.
“Really?” said Sam, looking at Natasha closely. “We got them to leave off the green wings because you didn’t strike us as the sexually transmitted disease type.”
“Thank you, I think,” said Natasha.
“It’s just sex,” said Sam. “You’re engaged; don’t tell me he’s never needed some home comfort while the red flag’s flying?”
Natasha felt herself flush.
“No,” she said, trying to laugh it off and now wishing she was anywhere else but here.
“Really?” pushed Sam. “You’ve never thrown a dark-colored towel on the bed and just gone for it?”
“Oh my god, Samantha Derbyshire,” said Natasha, her mouth open again in not-so-mock shock. “No, we have not done that.”
Sam was watching her closely and it made Natasha blush more and look away toward the door.
“Tash,” said Sam, hushing Bev, who’d made to speak. “Have you and your fella done, you know, anything?”
Natasha looked around the room, alarmed, but no one was paying any attention at all to what they were saying. She looked back.
“We’ve done…” she paused. “Stuff.”
“Stuff?” said Sam and Bev in unison.
They were both leaning in closer now, hanging on Natasha’s every word.
“Oh my god,” said Natasha again. “Yes, stuff. Things.”
“Like?”
“Like, none of your business, stuff,” said Natasha.
“Like hide the sausage stuff?” asked Sam.
Natasha’s eyes were wide open, she could feel it, and she knew her face and chest would be flushed red.
“No. Not that stuff,” she said quietly, looking away from them both. “Other stuff that keeps us both happy.”
Sam laughed and Bev followed suit. It didn’t sound like a horrible laugh and Natasha relaxed her shoulders and leaned into the group again.
“You two are awful,” she said. “Honestly.”
Sam was laughing a bit louder now and wiped a tear from her eye.
“Look, chick, you’re going to have to help me out here, because I’m trying to figure out how you’re going to stop your fella from shagging this slapper from the hotel by giving him the occasional hand job.”
Natasha stopped herself from saying “Oh my god” again and tilted her head at Sam, as though she was telling her off.
“I do other stuff, too, and he’s happy enough.”
She watched Sam laugh again, felt irritated at how Bev seemed to not be finding it funny, but was laughing anyway.
“But are you happy enough?” said Sam, her voice rising.
“Shhh,” said Natasha. “It’s no one’s business but mine.”
“Ours,” said Sam.
“Sam!” said Natasha.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Sam said, smiling and crossing her fingers. “I promise.”
“Sam!”
“Kidding, Tash, kidding. We girls have to stick together. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Sam pretended to lock her mouth shut and tossed the imaginary key over her shoulder.
There was a loud knock at the door and the three of them turned.
Chief “Polly” Pollack was at the door and regarded each of the girls in turn.
“Bloody hell,” he said, his voice loud and the mess silent. “Where’s the Big Bad Wolf?” He waited as the other sailors looked at the three girls on the bench and then laughed.
“Right, come on, you two,” he said, pointing to Bev and Sam. “I need my two little piggies down in the engine rooms early. I’m afraid gossip’ll have to wait.”
Sam and Bev stood up and walked quickly to the door.
“And you, young lady.” He pointed at Natasha. “Blacky was looking for you. I can only assume he needs a cup of tea, so off you pop and get him one.”
He turned and left, Natasha’s two friends falling in behind him, both looking back at Natasha with a smile and a wink.
11
Monday, February 2
Dan and John left Sarah Cox in her cabin and walked back along the route they’d previously taken.
It was quiet now, the commanding officer having piped leave for the majority of the ship’s company, meaning the passageways were clear and there was little noise from running machinery and equipment.
As the ship emptied, it felt eerie and vast.
John stepped into an empty cabin and Dan followed.
The cupboard doors inside the compartment were still wide open, likely from the search earlier in the day, and the bedding and mattress had been thrown back and not remade.
Dan took a deep breath that she blew out with some force.
“Well,” she began. “What do you think?”
“I agree with Commander Ward and Lieutenant Cox,” he said. “It’s odd that she went like she did and that she didn’t peg out, and no one recalls her leaving and such like, but at the same time, it doesn’t change anything. You saw the state of the jetty when we arrived. There’s equipment and personnel going on and off this ship all the time, she could easily have been missed, particularly if, for whatever reason, she wanted to be.”
“CCTV will confirm that, though,” said Dan.
John nodded his agreement.
“I don’t want to sound l
ike the manual,” said John, looking at his watch, “but we have a happy, bright, non-drug-using, straight, eighteen-year-old girl, with no known hang-ups or problems, who was fine at ten thirty on Friday, and who’s jumped ship without notification in the past…”
John let the words hang out there.
“There’s nothing at all to indicate a raised risk profile,” agreed Dan.
“No, there isn’t,” said John. “Chances are high that she’ll show up tomorrow, go to the commanding officer’s table for absence, get weighed off, and get fined. She’ll be back on board and working in the stores by the weekend. The money that’ll be missing from her bank account will be the only thing reminding her of it all.”
Dan nodded. “You know, I agree, but there’s something that bothers me about this scenario. I can’t shake it. If you do get a call from home, or whatever, and you know your divisional officer covered for you before, then why not just go back again and tell her?”
John was nodding.
“Cox strikes me as a bit of a soft touch. I don’t want to judge her on her round-the-world boat trip from Daddy, hell, I’d do it if I could.” John paused. “But I really don’t think she’s bought into the navy culture, do you think?”
Dan shook her head.
“No, she hasn’t, but then has the navy bought into her?”
“What?” John frowned.
“Never mind,” said Dan. “I’m not sure you’d get it anyway, but she’s an outsider, the rich admiral’s daughter, remember? She might not have bought into the navy, but I don’t imagine the navy’s been easy for her, either.”
John made to reply, twice opening his mouth and then saying nothing.
“Forget it,” said Dan. “I’m just saying that I think she’d have let Moore go, in fact, given that Moore has a good amount of leave still to take, I can’t see why anyone wouldn’t. Natasha Moore had a soft-touch boss who’s not a stickler for enforcing the navy’s will and who’d covered for her before. So why not turn there? And if it’s an emergency, why not take your bike home? She could’ve cycled home in the time it’d take her to walk across the dockyard and get a taxi. I just don’t know. The ex-fiancé bothers me, too. You said he seemed straight-up and worried, but Cox says it wasn’t a peaceable falling-out. It’s one of those things where lots of tiny bits don’t feel right.”
