The Lost Ones

by Ben Cheetham

  ‘You’re at the police station. We think you fainted. But we’re going to have you taken across to the hospital to be on the safe side.’

  ‘I’m going with her. You can’t stop me. She’s my wife.’ The insecurity was almost palpable in Tom’s voice, like a man desperately clinging on to something even as it was slipping away.

  ‘No one’s trying to stop you. You have every right to go with Amanda as long as that’s what she wants. Is that what you want, Amanda?’

  Amanda gave a small shake of her head.

  Tom’s eyes widened with dismay. ‘You don’t mean that, Amanda.’

  ‘Your wife’s made up her mind.’ Inspector Shields rose to usher Tom towards the door.

  He stood his ground. ‘This isn’t right. Tell them, Amanda. Tell them you want me with you.’

  Amanda’s shoulders began to quake with sobs. The inspector took hold of Tom’s arm and firmly guided him into a room across the hallway. He pointed to a chair. ‘Sit down, Mr Jackson.’

  Tom remained standing. ‘Am I under arrest?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then what’s to stop me from leaving right now?’

  ‘Nothing, except that your daughter’s missing and that what you do right now, right this second, could make the difference between her living and dying.’

  Inspector Shields’s matter-of-fact tone knocked all the fight out of Tom. He dropped onto the chair. ‘You orchestrated that little scene in the corridor, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ admitted the inspector, pulling up a chair. ‘I wanted to see how you all reacted.’

  ‘And did you see what you hoped to see?’

  ‘No.’ Inspector Shields’s voice was tinged with the sadness of a life spent dealing with the darker side of humanity.

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Amanda lied to me. I’ve seen her phone records. At the time Erin went missing, Amanda was on the phone to your brother.’ Inspector Shields consulted his notepad. ‘The call lasted from 9.51 until 10.01.’

  Tom squeezed his eyes shut, putting a hand to his chest as if there was a pain there. He’d known it was true the instant he saw the way Amanda and Graham looked at each other, but some small part of him had still refused to believe it. Here, though, was surely the final proof. How could this have happened? The question led to another, even more disturbing one. He asked haltingly, ‘You . . . you don’t think this has got anything to do with Erin’s disappearance, do you?’

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’

  Tom swayed back in his chair, shaking his head and pinching his hand over his mouth. He could just about accept the possibility of Amanda and Graham having an affair. But not this. Not fucking this!

  Inspector Shields watched him steadily. ‘Did you have any suspicions about your wife and brother?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘One hundred per cent. Amanda and Graham hardly ever talk. Not that they dislike each other. They’ve just got nothing in common.’ A grimace distorted Tom’s mouth. ‘Or at least that was always the way it seemed to me. Obviously I was wrong.’

  ‘Does Amanda ever go to your brother’s house?’

  ‘As far as I’m aware, the last time they saw each other was back in April when Graham came round with a birthday present for her. I remember being a bit surprised because he doesn’t usually bother with presents.’ April. Could it have been going on that long? Or maybe even longer? Perhaps they’d been screwing right under his nose for years. Since even before Erin was born. Tom’s stomach made like it was trying to climb up his throat. Oh, Jesus Christ! What if Erin wasn’t— He silenced his thoughts with a vehement shake of his head.

  ‘I’m going to ask your permission for something, Tom.’ Inspector Shields’s tone was suddenly less impersonal. ‘Initial test results show the blood found by the stream isn’t animal blood. It’s human AB positive, the same as Erin’s blood. Only around 3 per cent of Caucasians have that blood group. So that goes a long way towards proving it’s her blood. To make absolutely certain, we’d like to take a sample of your blood so we can see if the DNA profiles match.’

  ‘Go ahead.’ Tom’s voice was almost slurred. He felt as if he’d been dazed by a flurry of punches from impossible angles. He didn’t know what hurt more – knowing the blood was almost certainly Erin’s or the unspoken knowledge that this was about more than simply confirming the blood’s provenance, it was about whether or not he was her father.

  ‘There’s another thing I need your permission for. I think it’s time we made a full search of your house.’

  Tom thought about the house. All the years he’d lived there, first as part of a couple, then as part of a family. All the happy moments. All the lies. But which were which? ‘You can tear the place apart for all I care.’

  ‘Wait here. I won’t be a minute.’

  Inspector Shields left the room. Tom clutched his head. Nothing made sense any more. It was as if the world had gone insane. The inspector returned with a sheaf of paper. ‘These are consent forms for the DNA sample and the property search.’ He put a pen in Tom’s hand and pointed out where he needed to sign and date. Without bothering to read the forms, Tom scribbled his signature as many times as was necessary. A Forensics officer entered the room, pricked Tom’s thumb and collected a drop of blood.

  ‘Anything else?’ Tom asked numbly. The pain of discovery was being displaced by the blankness of shock.

  ‘A word of caution. Right now you might feel like doing something foolish. Don’t. Go home to your son.’

  ‘My son,’ murmured Tom. That was one certainty in all this chaos. Jake was his son. Wasn’t he? As if unsure his legs would carry him, he stood and approached the door. The doubt echoed mercilessly in his mind. Wasn’t he?

  ‘One more thing before you go, Mr Jackson,’ said Inspector Shields. ‘Where did you sneak off to yesterday afternoon when you were supposed to be getting a lift back to the forest?’

  ‘Amanda and I went to see Carl Wright. We offered to give up the quarry if he returned Erin to us.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘He claimed he doesn’t have anything to do with Erin’s disappearance. I was certain he was lying, but now . . .’ Tom trailed off into disoriented silence. He looked pleadingly at the inspector. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Like I said, you should go home and look after your son.’ Inspector Shields had his poker face back on.

  ‘You don’t give much away, do you?’

  ‘In my job you have to consider all possibilities, no matter how unpalatable. Do you understand?’ Tom nodded and the inspector continued, ‘Please don’t pull any more disappearing acts or I might start to think you’re hiding something else from me.’

  His eyes dragging along the floor, Tom followed Constable Hutton out of the station. He heard an ambulance from the neighbouring hospital and a thought cut through his shock, What else is being hidden from me? What else don’t I know?

  DAY 2

  8.03 A.M.

  A doctor measured Amanda’s blood pressure and shone a torch into her eyes. ‘How are you feeling, Mrs Jackson?’

  It was the second time the question had been asked, and again it went unanswered. As Inspector Shields joined the doctor, Amanda turned on the trolley bed to face the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. When she’d fainted, it had been like falling into a black hole devoid of thoughts and feelings, worries and fears. Waking up had brought reality crashing back in like a tidal wave. Now all she wanted to do was return to that place, wrap herself in its emptiness.

  ‘How long before we can take her back to the station?’ asked Inspector Shields.

  ‘Difficult to say,’ replied the doctor. ‘Her blood pressure’s low. She may well have another collapse if she’s put under stress.’

  ‘Well, can I at least talk to her here?’

  ‘You can try.’

  ‘Mrs Jackson, can you hear me?’ Receiving no answer, Inspector Shields
persisted, ‘I know how you feel, Amanda. I know you just want to shut yourself off and not think about anything. But I’m asking you, I’m begging you, for your daughter’s sake, please talk to me.’

  As if she was dredging her voice up from the bottom of the North Sea, Amanda said, ‘I was on the phone to Graham when Erin disappeared.’

  ‘You’re having an affair with him.’ It was a statement, not a question.

  ‘I was.’

  ‘How long has it been going on for?’

  ‘Six, maybe seven months.’

  ‘When you say “was” does that mean it’s over?’

  ‘It’s been over for weeks.’

  ‘So why did Graham phone you yesterday?’

  ‘Because he won’t accept it. I keep telling him it was a mistake, I don’t love him, I love Tom. But he just carries on phoning and texting, saying how much he loves me, how we’re going to live together, get married, start a family of our own.’ Amanda’s voice shook. ‘Oh, Christ, how did I let it get so far?’

  ‘Has Graham ever threatened you in any way?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So he’s never threatened to speak to Tom?’

  Amanda twisted towards Inspector Shields, scrutinising his face as if searching for signs of judgement. Suddenly her words were spilling out like a pent-up confession. ‘I know how this must look. You must think I’m a heartless bitch. And maybe I am. I was bored, frustrated, looking for . . . for someone to make me feel that feeling again. You know, that feeling when you first get together with someone, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters to them. This isn’t Graham’s fault. I made this happen. He resisted but I wore him down. I used him to get back at Tom for making me feel so . . . invisible. I realise that sounds stupid because Tom didn’t even know what was going on. But it made me feel like I had some kind of power over him, like if he ever pushed me to it I could turn round and say to him, I fucked your brother.’

  Amanda covered her face with both hands as if to hide her shame. After an extended silence, she hauled in a breath and continued, ‘Graham doesn’t want to hurt Tom. Or at least he wants to hurt him as little as possible. In his mind, Tom and I will get divorced. Then, after enough time has passed to make it if not respectable then at least acceptable, Graham and I will move in together. That way Tom would never have to know about the affair.’ She smiled pitifully. ‘Ridiculous, isn’t it? That a grown man could be so naive. But that’s the way Graham thinks. To him everything’s as simple as . . . as his sheep. Tom’s different. Even if Graham and I left it ten years before going public, Tom would guess the truth. When Graham told me what he was thinking, I realised what a terrible mistake I’d made. I broke it off. Graham was devastated. He wouldn’t stop crying. You can’t imagine what it takes to make a man like him cry. I don’t think he even cried when his mother died. He said he’d do anything to make us work. Sell his farm, move away, whatever it took. That’s when I knew I was in serious trouble. That farm is all he’s ever known. Giving that place up would be like giving up his identity.’

  ‘He sounds like a desperate man,’ remarked Inspector Shields.

  ‘He is,’ agreed Amanda. Catching the implication behind the words, she added, ‘But he’s also a good man. He’d never do anything to harm me or my children.’

  ‘Are you certain of that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How can you be absolutely certain without even the slightest doubt that Graham wouldn’t use Erin to try and force you to do what he wants?’

  ‘I can’t but . . . well, he’d have to be crazy to think that hurting my daughter would make me get together with him.’

  ‘How do you know he isn’t crazy? Working that farm all alone, year after year. Loneliness can do strange things to people.’

  ‘Except he’s not lonely. His animals are his family.’

  Inspector Shields accepted Amanda’s words without further argument. He’d worked in rural communities long enough to know they were true. ‘How often did you meet up with Graham?’

  ‘I don’t see why that’s relevant.’

  ‘It’s impossible to say what’s relevant and what isn’t. The more information we gather, the more likely we are to unearth some significant detail.’

  ‘We didn’t have a regular thing. We met whenever we had the chance. I’m not sure exactly how often. Maybe once every fortnight.’

  ‘Where did you meet up?’

  ‘The first time was at my house, but that was much too risky. So after that I went to the farm.’

  ‘And what about your children? Were they ever around when you met up?’

  Amanda looked horrified. ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘So they had no idea what was going on?’

  ‘If for one second I’d thought they did, I would have broken it off with Graham instantly.’

  ‘You say Graham’s been sending texts.’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve deleted them.’

  ‘We may be able to recover them. I can’t force you to hand over your phone at this moment, but I’d appreciate it if you would do so voluntarily.’

  Amanda gave her phone to Inspector Shields. ‘I’ll do anything I can to help, Inspector.’ Tears trembled in her eyes. ‘I don’t care what happens to me. All I want is my little girl back where she belongs.’

  ‘That’s good, because it makes what I’m about to say easier.’ The inspector leaned in closer, his voice dropping confidentially. ‘Is there anything else you haven’t told me? This is your chance, Amanda. If you’ve done something you didn’t mean to do, made some sort of mistake,’ he swayed his hand back and forth between them, ‘together we can make it right. But if you don’t speak to me now, I can’t help you.’

  Amanda recoiled as if a snake had hissed at her. ‘What are you saying? Do you think I’m some kind of monster?’

  ‘I don’t presume to think anything. And I’m not judging you. I’m simply doing my job.’

  ‘There’s nothing else.’

  ‘If that’s what you’re telling me, then that’s what I have to believe.’

  Inspector Shields looked at Amanda as if waiting for a reply to a question. She blinked away from his gaze. ‘Am I under arrest?’

  ‘No, but it would be best if you remained either here or at the station for now. Thank you for talking to me, Mrs Jackson.’

  Without replying, Amanda rolled to face the wall again.

  DAY 2

  8.04 A.M.

  Jake spooned cereal into his mouth at the kitchen table. He glanced at his grandma, who was busying herself with the washing-up. There’d been no chance to sneak out and meet Lauren. His grandma hadn’t taken her eyes off him since his mum had left with Inspector Shields. Even when he’d gone to his bedroom, she trailed after him, asking how he was feeling and a dozen other questions that didn’t matter right then. He’d told her he was tired, but she hadn’t taken the hint. She hadn’t even really seemed to hear. She’d kept cocking her head as if listening for something. She was doing the same thing now, dishcloth hovering in her hand, soapsuds dripping on the floor.

  Cathy’s eyes slid across to Jake’s empty bowl. ‘Would you like anything else, darling?’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  ‘I’ll make you some toast.’

  ‘I’m not hu—’ Jake started to say but broke off. Although the last thing he needed was her fussing over him, he didn’t have the heart to stop her. She clearly needed to keep herself busy, keep from thinking too much.

  At the sound of tyres crunching gravel, a plate clattered from Cathy’s hand and she ran to the front door, closely followed by Jake. Her face dropped when she saw Tom getting out of a police car. ‘Where’s Amanda?’

  Tom looked past her as if she didn’t exist. There was a strange intensity in his eyes. They seemed to be searching Jake’s face for something.

  Jake blinked uneasily ‘What is it, Dad?’

  ‘The police are coming to search the house. They’re going to be taking away anything they
think might help find your sister. So if you don’t want them to see what’s on your laptop, I suggest you take it with you when you leave.’

  Jake darted a nervous glance at the street. He wasn’t thinking about his laptop. He was thinking about the diary. ‘Leave? Where am I going?’

  ‘To your grandparents’ house. I want you to stay there until this is over. Go get your stuff together.’

  As Jake turned to head upstairs, Cathy asked again more insistently, ‘Where’s Amanda?’

  Tom’s reply stopped Jake in his tracks. ‘In hospital.’

  ‘Why?’ gasped Cathy. A confrontational note edged her voice. ‘And why aren’t you there with her?’

  ‘She fainted.’ Tom’s mouth thinned bitterly. ‘And you can ask her yourself why I’m not there.’ His features softened as he clocked Jake looking at him anxiously. ‘Your mum’s OK, Jake. Like I said, she just fainted. Now go on.’

  With a knot like a fist in his stomach, Jake rushed up to his room. Almost as unsettling as the thought of his mum fainting was the way his dad had spoken about her. It was as if he hated her. Thrusting the diary, his laptop and iPad into a rucksack, he wondered what had happened. What had she done? As he hurried to retrieve the nest box, the sound of raised voices came from downstairs. He caught a few words of his grandma’s: ‘. . . to God she’d never married you!’ Then the back end of his dad’s reply: ‘. . . yourself, you stuck-up old bitch.’ His dad’s and grandma’s dislike of each other had only ever been hidden under a thin veneer of civility. But even when it occasionally pushed its way to the surface, they would argue through gritted smiles. He’d never heard them at each other’s throats with such open animosity before.

  He descended the stairs, banging his feet so they’d hear. Tom and Cathy fell silent, looking daggers at each other. ‘I need to talk to my son alone,’ Tom said, almost as if he was daring Cathy to challenge his words.

  ‘I’ll wait for you in the car, Jake,’ said Cathy. Pointedly avoiding Tom’s eyes, she left the house with her chin in the air.

  Jake found himself tensing up as his dad turned to him. There was that strange intensity again. Tom motioned for Jake to put down the box. He caught hold of his arm and pulled him into an uncomfortably tight hug. Jake could feel tremors running through his dad. ‘I love you so much,’ said Tom, his voice constricted. ‘You and your sister are the best thing that ever happened to me.’