S is for Stranger

by Louise Stone

  I could see Zander through the glass, sat at his desk, whisky in hand. The gentle sound of Mozart drifted over the still office space and, for a brief second, I just watched him. This man who I thought I knew. He looked different to me now. I wasn’t sure if he had physically changed but there was something about his overall appearance that didn’t feel right. Normally, Zander was a man in control: clean, pressed suits at all times, hair slicked back, shaven. I shifted my weight from my right foot to the left and a pen I had been carrying in my pocket fell to the ground.

  Zander shot up, out of his chair. ‘Who’s there?’ He strode to his office door and leant out. ‘Who’s there?’

  I stepped out of the shadows. ‘It’s me, Zander.’

  An expression of sadness, or remorse, flitted across his face. ‘Ah, Sophie.’ He took a tentative step out of the office into the darkness and I heard him fumbling about with switches before he flicked them on and the entire office space was bathed in a harsh fluorescent light.

  ‘What on earth are you doing here, Sophie? It’s so late. Has something happened?’

  I stood rooted to the spot. My mind couldn’t comprehend the situation or the man in front of me.

  ‘I know who you are,’ I replied simply, a small rumble underpinning my words; the organic beginnings of hysteria before it became fully fledged.

  If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He turned from me and headed back into his office. ‘Soda water?’ He concentrated on plucking ice cubes from a bucket and dropped them into a glass. Slowly, he unscrewed the bottle cap and poured me a drink. ‘Do you mind?’ He indicated the whisky on his desk and I shook my head. Taking his own tumbler, he topped up the already neat whisky with another finger. ‘I’m not sure I understand, Sophie.’

  I sat myself down on the edge of his leather Chesterfield and he returned to sitting behind his desk. A nervous fluttering in my stomach and the sudden onset of clammy hands, took me back to our first meeting. Our interview had been more of a chat, less a grilling. I had walked into the job or, at least, that was what it had felt like. Now, I was beginning to wonder if Zander had dubious reasons for taking me on.

  ‘You’re Bethany’s father.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Bethany?’

  I cleared my throat. ‘Yes. Bethany Saunders. Your illegitimate child.’

  He gave a small shake to his head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You don’t know what I’m talking about?’ I took a huge gulp of soda water. ‘I have proof. You can’t lie. I’ve seen the birth certificate.’

  He leant back in his chair. Mozart had reached a crescendo and Zander appeared to be absorbing every last note. I waited, wondering how long he could keep up this façade.

  ‘Why did you employ me? Did you know I was Bethany’s friend?’

  Zander eventually opened his eyes, put down his tumbler and swivelled the chair so as to face me head on. Up close, I saw that he really was a shadow of his former self. His shirt appeared to hang off his frame, his eyes looked sunken and he had a couple of days’ worth of stubble.

  ‘Sophie, any more news on your daughter? I’ve seen from the news that they’re looking for you too now.’

  I didn’t know what to say any more. Previously, I would have told anybody, anything. I had believed that everyone was on side, apart from the custody battle; I honestly thought everything else was pretty straightforward. Now, I found myself thinking twice before I divulged any information.

  ‘No more news,’ I replied simply.

  ‘I was so sorry to hear. I hope you know that.’

  I stood up, the soda water sloshing from my glass onto the deep blue carpet. ‘Why are you changing the subject? You’re not answering my question.’

  The Mozart CD stopped, whirring to a halt. An impenetrable silence descended on the room. I thought of the CD with Amy and her tear-stricken face and looked at my watch. I had less than twenty-four hours remaining. Time was running away from me like sand through my hands.

  ‘Bethany never talked about you. Or, at least, she talked about how you just gave her money all the time and about how you wanted to protect her from everything.’ I glared at him. ‘You pushed her away, Zander. Did you know that? Your love for your little girl was too much.’ I reached into my coat pocket and took out the bracelet, strode over to the desk and thrust it under his nose. ‘Do you know what this is? Do you remember giving this to her?’

  Zander took the bracelet off me and caressed the heart-shaped locket between his forefinger and thumb. ‘I loved her,’ he said, his voice rumbling with emotion. ‘Yes, maybe I loved her too much but I couldn’t fight it. She was my reason for living.’ He looked at the bracelet. ‘I don’t recognise this, though.’

  I grabbed the bracelet back off him. Lies. Everyone was always lying.

  ‘But why didn’t you tell me you were her father when you took me on? How did you know to take me on?’

  He swallowed hard and I watched the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple. ‘Bethany talked about you whenever I saw her. She told me you were studying to do law too. So, it seemed natural to ask you for an interview.’ His eyes glazed over with tears. ‘Especially after she, you know. Took her own life. It felt like she would have wanted it.’

  ‘But for all these years …’ My voice trailed off.

  ‘I never talked about Bethany to anyone. She was born, as you describe it, illegitimately and I’ve seen what that tag can do to you. It was the end of everything for me. My cosy existence just vanished overnight.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I sat back down on the Chesterfield.

  ‘My wife found out and we divorced. It was bitter.’ He let out an empty laugh. ‘In that sense, Sophie, we make good lawyers. We’ve both seen that side of life.’

  I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. ‘So your wife found out about Bethany when she died?’

  He frowned. ‘Yes. That night forced the truth into the open. My wife couldn’t take the news. What would she tell her friends? Her husband has a child by another woman and now she’s dead, killed herself?’

  I remained unmoving. Did Zander, too, think Bethany had committed suicide? My belief in what I thought I had seen that night, what had happened that night, ebbed further away.

  He continued, ‘In the circles we moved in, that wasn’t the done thing.’ He paused, took a swig. ‘The funny thing, the other woman, Bethany’s mother, we weren’t meant to be. It was a brief …’ he reddened slightly, ‘fling. But when I found out she was having our child, I couldn’t bear the idea of never meeting her, getting to know her: my own flesh and blood. So, I kept in contact with Bethany. To be honest, Bethany often threatened to stop talking to me altogether.’ He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. ‘All that stuff she said to you? About me being over-protective, thinking money can solve everything, she told me that stuff too.’

  I nodded in silence. ‘Didn’t your wife ever suspect you of being dishonest? Whilst Bethany was alive?’

  He pursed his lips. ‘Yes, I think she did. But she never said anything. She was a stoic woman, wanted to hold it together for the sake of her reputation. Once I saw what that kind of thing could do to a marriage, I knew I couldn’t afford to let it wreck my career too. So, I’ve never talked about Bethany or the night she committed suicide to anyone.’

  ‘So, you never talked about Bethany when she was alive because someone might have found out you had a child with another woman and then, after she died, you continued in the same vein? Because it might have ruined your career.’ I looked at him. ‘Would it have, though? Ruined your career?’

  ‘This firm is my pride and joy. It’s not good press to air your dirty laundry in public.’

  That comment felt pointed. I fiddled with the edge of my coat, rubbing the wool between my fingers. ‘That night …’ I didn’t know how to continue.

  ‘When she died?’

  ‘Yes.’ I chewed the side of my mouth nervously.

  ‘I still n
ever fully understood what happened that night,’ he said, his gaze dropping to the desk. ‘It was …’ He tried to speak but I could tell he was fighting back the tears. ‘Let’s put it like this, I lost so much that night. More than most people will ever know.’

  ‘It was awful for me too. My parents …’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I know. They died a couple of years before?’

  I nodded miserably. ‘I suddenly had no one. Or, at least, it felt that way.’

  ‘Yes, it must have been really tough on you too.’ He took a deep gulp of the whisky and closed his eyes. I could almost taste and feel the warmth of the amber liquid. ‘When she died, it was as if my whole world collapsed. My wife was divorcing me, Bethany’s mother blamed her daughter’s death on me, Bethany was gone and the only thing that made any sense was keeping the firm together.’ He lifted his gaze and looked at me. ‘Maybe she wouldn’t have started escorting if I hadn’t needed so much from her.’ His recognition of his own failure as a father struck a sombre note with me. I, too, felt I was failing Amy and I didn’t want to end up like the man in front of me: living a life of regrets after the death of a child.

  ‘You knew about the escorting?’ I was amazed.

  ‘Yes, I feel guilty to this day that I didn’t do more to stop her. She once wrote to me, told me what she was involved with and that she was doing it because she wanted to hurt me.’ He went on unabashed. ‘I took you on because I could see you were good but,’ he smiled tenderly, ‘you also reminded me of Bethany. I’d be lying if I said you didn’t.’ He stood up now. ‘I’m sorry for not being honest with you, Sophie, but it was and is complicated.’

  A wave of emotion washed over me: I was relieved to know the truth about Zander’s connection to Bethany but I felt Amy was slipping out of sight: maybe Zander wasn’t the answer after all. The clock on the wall behind Zander’s head read nine o’clock. I had less than twenty hours to find my daughter or else I feared history would repeat itself.

  Zander walked me down the stairs to the entrance to the building.

  ‘Sophie.’ he stopped me as I went to open the door, his hand on my arm. ‘I need you to know I will do everything I can to help you get Amy back.’

  I nodded slowly. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing you can do.’

  ‘I know what it’s like to lose a daughter.’ He let go of my arm. ‘Just remember I’m here for you. We’re like family.’

  I pondered this for a moment before stepping outside into the chilly night air. ‘Hasn’t the detective been to see you?’ It suddenly dawned on me that he hadn’t mentioned her but, I was sure, she would have made Zander a priority.

  He glanced at me. ‘Yes, I forgot about that.’

  ‘What did she ask you?’

  ‘If I had seen you … That kind of thing.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘Oh, and how I thought it unhealthy you spending time with Paul like you did last Saturday. She thought it strange a boss should take that much interest in your personal life.’ He gave a small laugh.

  I nodded. The detective had queried Zander’s interest in my failed marriage. ‘I already explained you’re only trying to protect me.’

  He smiled. ‘Exactly. Keep loved ones close but enemies even closer.’ He held the door open for me. ‘Or, however, that saying goes.’

  I smiled, stepped into the street and brought my collar up against the cold wind whipping through Surrey Street. A black cab scuttled up the otherwise deserted street and I could feel a panic attack coming on. I was no closer to Amy and everywhere I turned it seemed to be a dead end. I was surrounded by people who lied. My breathing was becoming erratic and I could feel my legs turning to jelly, the familiar humming in my head was getting louder and louder.

  My mind couldn’t register the fact that I had been working with Bethany’s father for all this time. It just didn’t make sense. On one hand, his lies felt like an enormous betrayal and, yet, I quite liked the idea that he thought I was like Bethany. It was what I had always wanted: to be like Bethany.

  I felt the answer was so close and, yet, I wasn’t quite able to access it. Why would this woman come back for me, why did she want to see me suffer? Had I wronged her in some way? I felt like I was being punished for something I didn’t know I had done.

  CHAPTER 23

  I walked to a bus stop and took a bus to just beyond Hampstead Heath, deciding to walk the remaining distance to Faye’s house. It was nearing eleven o’clock; a few late revellers spewed out of The Freemason’s Arms.

  ‘Hey, missy,’ a large man, reeking of beer, slurred, ‘you don’t look too happy. Can’t be all that bad.’ This provoked a chuckle from his drunken buddies.

  I ignored them, kept my head down and moved to the other side of the road.

  ‘Bet she’s frigid,’ I heard him call out. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have cared: I mean, I could see they were drunk and trying to impress. Tonight, it stung: rubbing salt in wounds too big to ever heal. This wasn’t the time to lose it; I knew that.

  I watched a man in black tie trip up on the kerb and stumble toward the bus stop where he collapsed on a red bench, his head slumped forward in his hands. There was something about his black tie and the man’s breath smelling of stale beer that grabbed at a memory in the recess of my mind. I stopped and stared as he started to undo his bowtie, and then I remembered. It was as if the latest session with Darren had unlocked a vault and the images were starting to flood back, their detail coming into focus.

  I got out the mobile and Darren’s business card and punched in the number. He answered on the third ring.

  ‘Have you remembered something else?’

  We didn’t need introductions.

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  ‘Talk to me, Sophie. From the night you think Bethany was murdered?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you safe to talk? Where are you?’

  ‘Hampstead Heath, I’ll walk and talk.’ I looked at my watch. ‘But I haven’t got long. I need to remember something now, Darren.’ I decided now was the time to tell him about the note. ‘The woman. She sent me a note. Said I had forty-eight hours to find Amy or she dies.’

  ‘What?’ He sounded alarmed. I wasn’t sure if I imagined it, but I heard a clicking sound on the line.

  ‘Is someone listening in?’ My breath caught.

  ‘No,’ he said quickly, ‘no.’ He exhaled deeply. ‘If this note is true, I might have to tell someone everything, Sophie. You understand? Like I said, a life is now at risk.’

  I thought back to the note. It clearly stated that I wasn’t to tell the police.

  ‘Darren, I trust you and I’m telling you now, you can’t. If she finds out you’ve gone to the police, she will kill Amy.’

  After a few moments, he said, ‘Tell me everything you remember.’ His voice was terse.

  ‘We hadn’t spoken since the house party.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘Because it had been quite intimate, I guess.’ I paused. ‘So I made sure I was up and out of the house before Bethany got up and, at night, Bethany stayed out late. Most nights she didn’t return until four or five in the morning.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I knew she didn’t get back till then because I couldn’t sleep a wink until I was sure she was back and I could hear her shuffling about her bedroom upstairs. I always wondered what she did, where she went but, in some ways, I think it was better I never knew.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘We got a call from the agency a week later, asking if we would attend a black tie event. I was going to say no, unsure as to why I had ever joined, when I realised that it was an excuse to talk to Bethany; sort things out?’ My question hung in the air for a moment.

  ‘OK.’

  ‘I told Bethany about the call. I remember I knocked on her door and she didn’t answer right away.’ I paused. ‘When she did, she looked awful.’ I put my hand to my mouth, choked back a sob. ‘I should’ve known then that we needed to st
op the escorting.’

  I walked a bit, not speaking; Darren didn’t pressure me. ‘I found out later that she had been seeing men alone. Taken it further than we had agreed. She should never have died thinking she was only good for sex.’

  ‘What did you say to her?’

  My voice cracked. ‘I pushed her to go with me.’

  ‘Why did you push her?’

  I bowed my head now, even though Darren couldn’t see me. ‘Because I wanted to spend time with her, because I desperately needed her to be a part of my life again. She had been distant with me since that house party.’

  ‘Did she agree to go?’

  ‘Yes.’ I stopped now, taking a deep breath. ‘But only because I pushed her. I can see that now.’

  ‘Did she tell you where she had been going at night?’

  ‘She just said clubbing.’

  ‘Did you believe her?’

  ‘No.’

  I started to walk again, losing myself in the tree shadows.

  ‘Are you sure you’re still safe to talk on the phone, Sophie?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I let out the sob that had been building in my throat. ‘I have less than eighteen hours to find Amy. Nothing feels safe!’ I was hysterical. ‘But I need you to tell me something. The doctors at the Priory, after Bethany was killed, told me that it was my mind’s way of coping with losing my friend. A sort of displaced guilt. That it was easier to believe she had been murdered and that I probably felt like I could have protected her from suicide, but by believing it was murder, my mind was freeing me of guilt.’

  ‘OK.’ He was hesitant. ‘And do you think that you did feel guilty about her dying?’

  I noted he didn’t say how Bethany died: choosing to remain on the fence.

  ‘Yes.’ I cried freely now, my breathing ragged. ‘I’m the one who pushed her in the end to do the escorting, those final nights out were down to me. It had been her idea originally but, by the end, I realised that I could be closer to her during those times. She was all mine.’ I looked out at the twinkling lights of the city. ‘It’s my fault.’