by Pryke, Helen
Had Jane and Charlotte been the intended victims, as it would seem from the newspaper article? Had it just been a coincidence that James had been in Cosham when they were abducted? Had his mother told him the truth about his father, had she recognised Richard from somewhere and told James he was his father? Was Kevin involved in the whole sordid story as well?
She punched her fist on the coffee table, welcoming the pain that shot up her arm as a distraction. Damn bloody Richard! How the hell could he have done something like that? But she had covered too many stories over the years to know the answer.
There was one question that kept trying to push its way to the surface of her mind, but she continued to push it back down, refusing to let it reach the top. Instead, she concentrated on her sister, and how devastated she would be if this should ever come out. Nicola and Richard’s marriage was already strained; this would break it irreparably.
Thoughts of her sister led to thoughts of Thomas, and the question sneaked back in, sank its teeth in and wouldn’t let go. A scream left her throat, quiet at first, building quickly to a deep-throated roar that scared the life out of her. A primal rage coursed through her body, eager to be released on those who had caused her hurt, but they weren’t there, no one was there, and it dissipated as quickly as it had arrived, leaving her gasping and drained of energy.
* * *
Maggie opened her eyes, startled. What the hell had woken her? She sat up, trying to focus, her throat raw from screaming, her face puffy from the tears she’d cried. The early morning sun streamed through the window, unhampered by the curtains she’d forgotten to pull the night before, adding a surreal brightness to her surroundings.
The doorbell rang again, its shrill tones making her jump, then someone knocked on the door.
‘Mags, are you in there?’ Chloe sounded panicky.
Maggie tried to smooth down her ruffled hair. ‘Yes. Just coming.’ She lifted herself off the sofa with some difficulty, twinges in her back making her wince, and went slowly over to the front door.
‘Hi, kids,’ she croaked. ‘Come in.’
‘You okay, Mags?’ Mike followed her inside, his voice tense with concern.
‘Oh. I…’ Maggie struggled back to the sofa, her body trembling.
‘You said to come over early,’ Chloe said. ‘One of your neighbours let us in, you didn’t answer.’
Maggie tried to clear the fog from her head. ‘Yes, of course.’ She was gradually coming back to life, her stiff body slowly loosening up.
‘Stay there, I’ll make you a coffee.’ Mike busied himself in the kitchen while Chloe tucked a blanket around her legs.
‘Are you ill?’ she asked, her eyes wide.
Maggie snorted. ‘You could say that.’ She leaned her head against the back of the sofa, taking comfort from the soft fabric.
‘Here, Mags.’ Mike handed her a mug of steaming coffee, and she gratefully wrapped her hands around it. The two teenagers sat opposite her, exchanging worried looks.
She took a few sips, savouring each mouthful. ‘You remember I told you about my illness, and that it can flare up at any time, particularly in moments of stress?’ She paused, trying to catch her breath. ‘That’s what’s happening now. I must have collapsed this morning. I’m sorry you kids had to see me like this.’ To say the truth, she was devastated. She didn’t like people seeing her at her weakest, and to have the two of them see her in this state made her feel vulnerable.
‘What happened to trigger it?’ Chloe asked. ‘Is it the investigation? Us, putting too much pressure on you?’
‘Oh, no, it’s not you.’ Maggie smiled weakly. ‘I found something out last night, something I’d never imagined, and it upset me. A lot.’
‘Do you want to tell us?’ Mike asked.
‘No,’ Maggie replied. Mike’s face fell. ‘But I have to, it’s to do with our investigation.’ Between sips of coffee, she told them everything Richard had said the previous evening. She felt for them as she watched the emotions cross their faces, from shock to anger. She avoided any mention of Thomas. She couldn’t talk about him right now.
Mike wiped a hand across his brow as he tried to take in what she was telling them. ‘You must feel like punching someone,’ he muttered.
‘The coffee table took a bit of a dent last night,’ Maggie admitted. She held her hand up so they could see the bruise. ‘I imagined it was Richard’s face, and I hit it a bit too hard.’
‘What do we do now, Maggie?’ Chloe said quietly.
‘I need to rest, otherwise I’m not going to be good for anything. I promise you we’re going to carry on looking for them.’ Maggie’s shoulders sagged. ‘Just not right now. I can’t. I’m sorry.’ She knew that time was running out for the girls but as she’d feared, her body had given up on her at the wrong moment. She despaired of saving them, although she would never say so to Mike and Chloe. They needed a miracle, and she’d given up believing in those four years ago.
‘That’s all right, you get some sleep. We’ll go home, let you rest a while, and come back after lunch.’ Chloe patted her shoulder.
‘Thanks.’ Maggie lay her head down on the cushion and pulled the blanket over her. Her eyes closed and she sank into oblivion.
* * *
Maggie stretched and yawned, then glanced at the clock. She’d only slept a couple of hours, but it was enough to make her feel human again. She got up, grimacing at the pain in her neck, and headed to the kitchen. The futility of everything she’d done up to now washed over her. She felt drained of energy and sank onto a chair, all desire for a coffee gone.
‘Those poor girls,’ she mumbled, her head in her hands. And Mike and Chloe, what would they think? They’d been convinced she could help them, but all she’d done was raise their hopes, only to cruelly crush them once more.
She picked up her phone from the kitchen table and unlocked it. Better to call them and get it over and done with than leave them in this limbo, she thought. She glanced at the screen and was shocked to see there were thirty missed calls, all from Andy.
‘Andy? What the hell does he want?’ Her mouth was dry and her tongue, coated with dregs of coffee, felt swollen, making talking awkward. A glass of water would have helped, but she didn’t have the strength to get one. She pressed the call button.
Andy answered on the second ring. ‘Where have you been? I’ve been trying to phone you for ages!’
‘Okay, okay, don’t get your knickers in a twist. I was having a sleep. You know, that thing people do when they’re tired,’ Maggie retorted.
‘Well, this should wake you up. Your article about those girls went out in yesterday’s paper, and a kid’s phoned here three times this morning, asking to speak to you.’
‘So?’
‘He’s not local, I asked. He’s from somewhere up near the Peak District. Seems you’re trending on Twitter, your article’s already got thousands of likes and retweets.’
‘And that’s how he saw it?’
‘So he said.’
‘Couldn’t you take a message?’ Maggie sighed. It was probably some kids messing around, it wouldn’t be the first time.
‘I offered, but he said he’d only speak to you and wouldn’t leave his name. He sounded pretty agitated.’
‘Didn’t you–?’
‘Get his number?’ Andy interrupted. ‘Of course I did. I’ll text it to you now.’
‘Thanks, Andy.’ Maggie dared to hope a little. Could this be the break they so desperately needed? ‘I owe you one.’
‘Yeah, a couple of pints should cover it.’
‘You’re cheap, Andy.’ Maggie chuckled.
‘Only for you.’
‘Glad to hear it. Why don’t you come over? Mike and Chloe will be here soon too. I’ll phone this kid back in the meantime.’
‘Sounds good. Oh, by the way, I’ve located Kevin Bourne. One of his friends got back to me, seems he’s living in a town called Hanley, and teaching at a secondary school in Tunstall.’
>
‘That’s great news. Looks like things are moving at long last.’
‘Phone the kid, Maggie, let’s see what he has to say as well.’
She closed the call, and a few seconds later her phone beeped as a message arrived. Maggie clicked on it and waited impatiently as the call went through. She heard the buzz of the ringing tone, then a tentative voice said, ‘Hello?’
Maggie cleared her throat. ‘Hi, this is Maggie Turner from The Southern Recorder. My colleague said you’ve been trying to reach me. What can I do for you?’
There was a shuffling noise and the sound of feet pounding up some stairs, then the boy’s breathless voice came back over the speaker. ‘Hi, yes, Miss Turner, is that really you?’
‘Sure is.’ Maggie paused, and let him get his breath back.
‘Right. Well, the thing is, it might be nothing, but I saw your article about those two missing girls on Twitter and…’ He paused.
‘Go ahead, I’m listening. Any information you can give me will help.’
‘Er, well, thing is, my mates say it’s better not to get involved, but those two girls seemed desperate to me and the guy seemed a right weirdo, always talking to himself, and I thought you might know what to do.’
‘Okay, let’s start from the beginning,’ Maggie said, pulling out her notebook. ‘What girls?’
‘The girls in the house who signalled us from upstairs, then held up a sign saying help. Those girls.’
‘Can you describe them?’
‘I didn’t get a close look, but one had dark hair, a bit curly like, the other had straight blonde hair.’
She stopped, her hand poised over the notepad, the pen shaking slightly. ‘And they were holding up a sign?’
‘Yeah, saying help. But when we tried to go closer to the house, they went crazy, shouting at us to go away.’
‘What did you do?’
‘We went back to our hideout, and we’ve been arguing ever since about what to do. I said to go to the police, but my mates refused, they say they’ll destroy our hideout and we’ll have nowhere to go after. But the girls, they looked scared, and I couldn’t stop thinking about them. And then I read your article about the lost girls, and I thought maybe they were the same ones.’
‘You did the right thing calling me,’ Maggie said. ‘What’s your name, and where are you? Can you take us to them?’
‘I don’t know.’ His voice trembled. ‘My name’s Ollie.’
‘Ollie, listen to me.’ Maggie softened her voice. ‘Those two girls could be in danger, and we need to find them as soon as possible. Please, you’re the only one who can help us, and time’s running out.’
A loud sniff came down the phone, then the boy spoke.
* * *
Maggie looked at the two teenagers, who were sat on the edge of the sofa, then glanced at Andy. She gave them a smile, finally daring to hope she had some news.
‘Well?’ Mike asked, jiggling his feet.
‘Apparently, my article’s trending on Twitter,’ Maggie said with a nonchalant shrug.
Mike whooped and high-fived Chloe.
‘Whatever that means,’ Maggie added.
They stopped mid-whoop, open-mouthed.
‘Gotcha.’ Maggie winked. ‘Anyway, I spoke about half an hour ago with a kid who saw it. That’s why I asked Andy to bring you over.’ She recounted her conversation with Ollie, reading from her notes. ‘Do you think it could be them?’
Tears streamed down Chloe’s face as she nodded. Mike held her hand and muttered, ‘It’s our only chance, today’s the twenty-eighth. It has to be them.’
‘That’s what I thought. I asked Ollie what the guy looks like, but he says he was sitting up in a tree the one time he saw him and couldn’t make him out properly. So I thought Andy could drive me to meet Ollie in a place called Leek, in the Peak District. Apparently it’s not too far from Butterton, the village near where he saw the girls.’
‘Butterton? Isn’t that where the psychopath came from?’ Mike said, suddenly alert.
Maggie nodded. ‘It would seem he’s gone back home. I’d say that’s not a good sign.’
‘But which one is it? James or Kevin?’ Chloe asked, agitated.
‘Until we see him, we can’t be sure. But Andy, you said you’ve got a lead on Kevin, right?’
‘Yeah.’ He glanced up from his phone, his face tense. ‘I was just checking the map, looks like Hanley isn’t far from Leek, only half an hour or so away.’ He gestured to Mike and Chloe. ‘I’ll drop you two at home, then Maggie and I will drive up there and find out what’s going on. I’ll pay a visit to Kevin while she talks to Ollie.’
‘No way.’ Mike leapt to his feet, glaring at them both. ‘They’re our sisters, we got you involved, we’re coming too.’ Chloe put her hand on his arm, but he shook it off.
‘Mike, be reasonable. Your parents…’ Maggie began.
‘Don’t start, Maggie,’ he shouted, his face red. ‘No arguing, no discussing, we’re coming with you.’ He stood, his chest heaving, as he waited for her answer.
Maggie gave Andy her car keys. ‘You’re driving. Let me get ready, then we’ll be off.’ She shook her head. ‘I knew it was a bad idea asking you two to help with Joe. Just try and stay out of trouble.’
40
The waiting was killing her. Charlotte looked out at the garden, empty and still, only the flowers blowing in the strong breeze. Grey clouds hung heavily in the distance, promising rain later on. The wall at the bottom was the same as ever, red bricks covered in moss and ivy, some grouting flaking away. Everything appeared the same. Only it wasn’t.
The kids had been hesitant at first, staring at them from the far end of the garden, just beyond the wall, as if wondering what to do. Then they had scaled the wall and jumped down into the garden, slowly walking up the path towards the house, until they were stood by the washing line. Their faces turned up to the window, they’d read the girls’ message. They’d moved forward, as if they wanted to come indoors, and Jane and Charlotte had had to jump up and down and scream until the kids finally realised they couldn’t enter. With a final glance at the desperate girls, they’d scarpered back down the path, back to their hideout, back to safety.
That had been two days earlier, and there had been no sign of the kids since. No police had turned up at the door, no one had come to save them. They’d been scared when he came home, afraid someone might have spoken to him, but he’d merely eaten his dinner and sent them upstairs as usual. Their disappointment had been tinged with relief that he wasn’t taking them down to the cellar.
It was like waiting for a storm to hit, the distant rumbling of thunder threatening a deluge of rain and lightning, the static electricity tangible in the air around them. But the storm never arrived, and the tension in the house continued to increase, becoming unbearable.
Charlotte was terrified. He was like a bomb about to go off at any second, the weirdness inside him ticking away, counting down the minutes, the catalyst to an imminent explosion. His shoulders would jerk at odd moments, as if he couldn’t control his body, and he was muttering more and more to himself, incomprehensible conversations that frightened the life out of her. She’d never been religious, had never had any need for God or any of that church stuff, but she knelt down now by her bedside, clasped her hands together, and quietly said a prayer, her head bowed.
* * *
She jumped when someone knocked at the door. Jane, it had to be Jane, he wouldn’t bother knocking… ‘Come in,’ she called.
Jane entered. ‘He’s not back,’ she said, her voice low. They’d become used to talking almost in whispers, frightened he would creep up on them and overhear their conversation.
‘You sure?’
She grimaced. ‘Of course.’
‘Do you think he’s… gone?’ A spark of hope lit up in Charlotte.
‘Left us? That’s wishful thinking.’ Jane scuffed her foot over the floor. ‘Do you think the kids have said something?’
‘Yeah, you’re right. I really thought they’d be our chance of getting out of here,’ Jane said. She sat down on the bed next to Charlotte and leaned back against the wall. ‘So what do we do? Try again?’
‘How?’ Charlotte took the corner of the sheet and began twisting it between her fingers. ‘Even if the kids come back, it’s pointless. They obviously didn’t understand our message.’
‘We just give up then?’ Jane asked. ‘Because I don’t want to. I have to believe we’re going to get out of here, with or without help. Come on, Charlie, it’s not like you to give up so easily.’
Charlotte shook her head and sighed. ‘I really hoped those kids would’ve… If only they’d brought help. What do you think it’d be like, going back to our lives? Would it be like before?’
Jane snorted. ‘I bloody hope not.’
‘Go on, tell me how your family will welcome you back.’ Charlotte took the opportunity to change the subject. ‘Invent something, make it as outrageous as possible!’
‘Okay. Mum and Dad are going to burst into tears and beg my forgiveness, and Chloe will run around after me for the rest of her life, obeying my every command. I’ll be Little Miss Popular, and everyone will want to be my friend.’ She winked. ‘And there’ll be a pony in the garden; no, a unicorn, a whole family of unicorns, and you can have one too! Your turn now. Go on, Charlie, anything you can wish for.’
