by Louise Stone
He sighed deeply. ‘OK. She’s not here anyway. She’s away on business.’
He pulled open the door and I stepped into the hall. Under the spotlights, I almost didn’t recognise him. His eyes were totally shrunken, he couldn’t have shaved for a few days now – perhaps Monday, when I last saw him – but, more alarmingly, he stank of alcohol.
‘Have you been drinking?’
He wobbled slightly on the spot. ‘Don’t think you can talk to me about drinking.’
I pulled a face. ‘No, probably not. You told me weak people drink in a crisis.’
‘Did I?’ he slurred and tipped ever so slightly my way.
‘Yes.’
‘Oh. Well.’ He walked off now, in the direction of the sitting room. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’ He sat in an armchair. I noted the tumbler of vodka next to him. What I would have done to have a drink too. ‘Didn’t know if you’d ever come back.’
‘Come back?’ I sat on the ottoman by the window. ‘I’m looking for our daughter, once I find her, I’m coming back.’ I stopped, aware of what I had just said. ‘I mean normal life will resume.’
‘That’s right,’ he slurred. A small trickle of saliva dribbled down his chin and I tensed. ‘Because you are loved-up with that man now, aren’t you?’
‘What would you care if I was, anyway?’ Realising he meant Oliver.
He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t.’
‘Nice.’
‘Anyway, would you?’
‘Would I what?’
‘Come back?’
‘Here?’ I laughed. ‘Are you serious? After …’ He gazed at me steadily. ‘No. No, I wouldn’t.’
‘Just as I thought.’ He picked up the tumbler and downed the remaining liquid.
‘I know this is a bit rich coming from me, but it’s not going to help you know.’ I nodded at the glass.
‘S’pose not.’ He closed his eyes and, seeing that I might lose him to a drunken slumber, I rose from the ottoman. ‘What do you want, anyway?’ His eyes shot open.
‘Our daughter.’ I stood a couple of paces from the armchair, directly in front of him. ‘I have until 4 pm this afternoon to find our daughter. You know where she is. I need you to tell me.’
‘I don’t know, Sophie.’
‘I know about the house in Holland Park. I’ve just come from there. Who is she? This woman? I need to know where this woman’s taken her.’
He bit his bottom lip and shifted in the chair.
‘Will she kill Amy? Why does she hate me so much?’ I felt like shaking him: ridding him of his drunken stupor and his lies. ‘Tell me.’
‘I don’t know anything.’
‘Paul,’ I said, ‘you know if our daughter dies, you will go to prison.’
‘For what? You have our daughter.’
‘But do you want our daughter’s blood on your hands? Just tell me where to find her.’
He leant forward in the chair, his elbows resting on his knees, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. ‘Shit.’
‘Come on, Paul,’ I coaxed. ‘Is she listening now? Is this place bugged?’ I turned a full circle, before my gaze came to rest on Paul again. ‘I don’t even care any more! What is she going to do? Kill me? I’d prefer she killed me and not our daughter.’ I laughed hysterically now. ‘I mean, it doesn’t matter any more … Before, I was scared, but now I don’t care. She clearly wants me dead. Like she wanted Bethany dead.’ My voice trailed off, my last words hung over the room like a sticky sap falling from a tree on a muggy, thundery day. ‘She’s jealous, bitter and twisted.’
Paul’s face was wet with tears. ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about.’ He paused. ‘You showed up last Saturday with that detective and tell me our daughter’s missing. Now you’re going on about some woman who killed Bethany and now has Amy. And this woman wants you dead because she’s jealous of you? Or something?’ He was ranting aloud now; his thoughts making little sense.
I didn’t know what to say, fearing my response might make him clam up even more. It was a tough one to call. ‘Paul, you might not …’ My tongue combed the roof of my mouth. ‘You know, the court might understand that this was not your choice, this was under duress.’
He nodded. ‘The court. Who cares about the court right now? Our daughter is missing.’
I nearly laughed. ‘Who cares? You do! That’s why you’re lying, you want to make me look bad, get custody of Amy. You’re working with this woman.’
‘You’ve gone mad.’ He was quietly seething now, his fists clenching and unclenching.
I pitied him in that moment. He spoke as though he was innocent, like I was the one who had caused all this. ‘Paul, you’re making out I’m mad. I’ve done nothing wrong.’ I walked toward him now. ‘Will you come with me? Help me find Amy? Tell me where she is. Who has her?’
With so many questions, he looked like a rabbit in headlights, unable to decide which way to move. ‘You …’
‘Paul. Please.’ I bent down, took him in my arms now and felt his body relax next to mine. His shoulders bounced up and down as he sobbed. ‘Is it just her? Is she working alone?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about.’
I swallowed hard, determined to get some information out of him. ‘OK, if it’s just one woman, surely she can’t have this much hold over you.’
He buried his head in my shoulder, the stale smell of alcohol played on my already jagged nerves. ‘Sophie, please stop.’
‘Paul,’ I whispered soothingly. ‘Where is she going? Where is she taking Amy?’
‘You need help.’ He whimpered in my ear. ‘Please get help.’
‘Paul, I don’t. You do.’ I spoke even more softly. ‘Do you think your house is bugged?’
‘This could all be over so quickly if you were honest with yourself, Sophie.’
I was growing panicky with frustration. ‘Do you believe that?’ I stepped away from him now, holding him at arm’s length. ‘Paul. Our daughter is in danger. Forget us. Forget what’s happened with us. That’s in the past.’ Tiredness took a hold of me as I realised he would never give me the truth. I didn’t know why he was lying, maybe I never would. For the moment, it looked as if Paul was set on keeping it a secret and I had to keep running, chasing my own tail. I sat down weightily on the sofa. ‘OK, fine, you win. I can’t keep asking. I’ll just have to …’ I stopped talking.
Paul whispered something, barely audible. I leant forward to catch it again but he didn’t repeat it.
‘Sorry, Paul, what did you say?’
‘Only you know where she is.’
‘What exactly does that mean?’
‘Isn’t that why you’ve been having those sessions with Darren? You’ve got some crazy idea that Bethany’s killer has Amy? Well, what have those sessions told you? Anything?’ He stared hard at the floor. ‘Just bring our daughter back.’
He was right: it was time to go to Aberystwyth. My watch read seven o’clock in the morning. Daylight crawled in around the edges of the curtains and, now that I thought about it, I could hear the traffic out on the main road. It would take me at least five hours to get there and then I had to find out where the house had been.
CHAPTER 26
After a sluggish start through the knotty build-up of London traffic, I joined the M4 motorway. I put my foot down where I could but, approaching the second Severn Bridge, I was forced to slow. Memories spun through my mind as the traffic crawled across the bridge and I entered Wales. Then it was as if the closer I drove to where it all began, the memories became painfully clear.
I phoned Darren, put him on speakerphone.
‘Sophie.’ He sounded wary.
‘Are they there?’
‘Yes, they’re listening.’
My stomach dropped, and I took a deep breath.
‘OK, you have to believe me. The woman who has taken my daughter killed my friend, I’m sure of it.’
I heard a chair scrape in the back
ground; imagined DI Ward getting up, them trying to trace my call.
‘I think she’s taken Amy to Aberystwyth, to a large house nearby.’
‘OK,’ Darren said slowly. ‘Sophie, are you OK? You sound agitated.’
‘Of course I’m agitated. I’m looking for my child. Do you want to help me or not?’
‘Yes,’ he said quickly and I imagined DI Ward nodding her head vigorously in the background. She didn’t want to lose this call: her only contact with me.
‘You know the evening I told you about before. Well, I remember the diplomat inviting us in. Bethany was angry with me. She hadn’t wanted to go.’
‘But you made her?’
‘Yes, I made her. I wanted to have fun. She was always out, without me. I wanted to have what I deserved.’
‘Which is?’
I looked out at the expanse of Welsh hills and suddenly felt so vulnerable. ‘I deserved to spend time with people I loved and I loved her, like family.’ I swallowed. ‘It was our thing, you know?’
‘OK, go on. Do you remember anything about the house?’
‘It’s near a cliff face, I told you that already. There were loads of rooms, like it was an old hotel. Not used any more.’
‘What happened then?’ Darren sounded exhausted.
‘The diplomat told us to behave. There were five men sat in a semi-circle on a bed. They weren’t that interested in us when we first went in the room.’
I stopped, waited for Darren to signal I should continue.
‘Go on, Sophie.’
‘They were drinking whisky, playing cards. Then this one guy did a couple of lines of coke. Bethany took some and then I did.’
‘I thought you didn’t do those sorts of drugs.’
‘I did on this occasion. I needed to.’
‘How did you know what to do?’ Darren asked.
I cleared my throat, indicated and changed lane. ‘OK, I might have done it a couple of other times.’
‘Then what?’
‘Then I drank whisky and I remember they handcuffed Bethany to the bed.’
‘Was this agreed before you girls did this?’
‘No.’
‘Then you must have been scared?’
‘I was.’ I paused. ‘Until I realised Bethany was in her element. She loved it.’
‘How did that make you feel about Bethany?’
‘Resentful.’
‘Why?’
‘She looked in control, I felt like I was floundering.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘A woman was in the room. This is where my memory is so muddled.’
I heard a chair scrape again. I didn’t care if they were listening any more. I was closer to finding Amy than I had been over the last few days. I could feel it.
‘A woman let herself into the room?’
‘Yeah, I guess. I don’t know because all I remember is a gun going off and Bethany’s head bouncing backward.’
Darren’s breathing had grown shallower. I imagined him listening, perched on the edge of his seat. DI Ward looking at him, nodding.
‘Anything else, Sophie?’
‘I remember Bethany looking at her killer and she seemed to know her.’
The ringing had started up in my ears again and I could feel my muscles weakening. I knew I needed to end the call and pull over before I had another attack. I indicated I was moving over to the side. I slammed on my hazards and held my head in my hands, willing my breathing to slow, and slowly, ever so slowly, the ringing sound disappeared.
DI Ward came on the line. ‘Sophie,’ she started, ‘we need you to tell us exactly where you are. Your safety is our priority.’
I looked at my phone and cut the call.
Reaching down into the side pocket, I felt around for a pair of sunglasses, plucking out the contents and dumping them in my lap. A quick glance downward confirmed that Faye, like me, didn’t keep spare sunglasses in her car or, for that matter, anything of use: a screwed-up chewing gum packet, pen and a small torch. The petrol gauge displayed almost empty and, spotting a sign for Magor services, I moved over to the left hand lane and came off.
The weather did a complete about turn and dark clouds shifted across the sky as I filled up with petrol. I figured there was enough time to sprint inside and buy a coffee, fearing I might fall asleep at the wheel. Having been to the toilet, I stood in a queue of two to order a double espresso from Costa. Across the way, in WH Smiths, a Chinese lady was using broad gestures and talking fast in a high-pitched voice. Her boss looked perplexed, shaking his head. The woman jabbed a newspaper in her senior’s face.
‘Yes?’
I focused on the spotty teenager in front of me.
‘Double espresso, please. To take out.’
He followed my gaze as he struck the keys on the till. ‘Two twenty-five.’
I handed over the correct change and he turned to the giant Gaggia machine. A couple of minutes later, he passed me a paper cup, shoving a plastic lid on top.
‘What’s going on?’ I indicated the argument going on behind him.
‘Woman says a child came up to her claiming to have been kidnapped.’
My heart dived into my stomach. ‘Kidnapped?’
‘Yeah, yesterday early morning, you know. I just started my shift, so I wasn’t here.’ He smiled. ‘But then her mum came over and told her daughter to apologise.’ He grinned now, the pockmarks around the corners of his mouth widening. ‘You see it all in service stations.’ When I didn’t respond, he said, ‘Enjoy your drink.’
‘Thanks,’ I mumbled, distracted, and took a sip of my coffee.
I wanted to talk to the woman across the way, see if she could tell me anything, anything at all. But it was hopeless. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself and, besides, I knew where the answers lay. It wasn’t with that woman. It wasn’t here.
In fact, I was just over an hour off from where it all began; my mouth turned dry at the prospect. I walked hastily to the car, knocking back the espresso as I went, and jumped in. If that woman’s sighting was correct, then I could at least continue forward in the knowledge that Amy was alive: for now.
It wasn’t long before I hit the A-roads and I was taking no prisoners: flying around the bends and up and down the familiar Welsh hills. With each passing mile, the grey sky intensified and thunder sounded, clouds trembling on the verge of breaking. The rubbly, gorse-covered sides of the Ceredigion Valley grew steeper, sucking me in. It was as if the seaside town knew: today was the day. A sense of foreboding appeared to linger in the air; a valley shrouded in dark secrets. As I sped over the final crest, Aberystwyth came into view and the first drops of rain crashed down onto the windscreen.
CHAPTER 27
The seaside town appeared desolate as I drove through the centre toward the seafront. The odd person hovered in a shop entrance, cowering from the rain as it pelted the crumbling houses and shops. The weather kept shoppers at bay and I easily parked along the seafront. The waves crashed against the wooden pier; its thin stalk-like legs quivering as it fought the elements. The flashing lights of the arcades twinkled brightly through the deep-set fog hovering above the promenade.
I cast my eye over the length of the seafront. The buildings looked so familiar and, yet, not. In many ways, I could envision the younger me running along the seafront and laughing with friends on the beach as we barbecued. Yet, in so many other ways, this place had been as much a ghost to me then as it was today. In the last week, I had become less certain of what I knew or what I thought I had known. As if the past and present had become almost elusive, intangible: almost as one.
I needed to find the house. The house where it all began.
I used all my force to open the car door as I fought the thrashing wind. The sea air hit me smack in the face; I could taste salt on my lips, smell the seaweed. Drawing the collar of my coat up further, I bent my head against the driving rain and headed into town.
The nearest place open w
as a fish and chip shop. I pushed the door and paddled in, water dripping all over the floor.
‘You win bravest customer award.’
I looked up, pushing wet strands of hair from my face and mouth and smiled half-heartedly. I was sodden right through, my wool coat water-logged.
‘We’ve had no one in here so far,’ he continued, in his sing-songy Welsh accent. ‘Not that I blame them, mind. Who’d want fish in this weather? When you could probably catch one in your own backyard?’ He chuckled heartily at his own joke.
‘I was wondering if you could help me, actually.’ I wiped the drop of rain hanging off the end of my nose with my sleeve. ‘I’m looking for a house, maybe a former hotel, near the cliffs. I know it’s not much to go on.’
He was busying himself with something, his back to me.
I tried again. ‘Um …’
‘Here you go, free.’ He handed me a polystyrene cup. ‘Tea. I presumed you take sugar.’
‘Thanks.’ I smiled and held the warm cup appreciatively. ‘Just what I needed.’
‘House you say?’ His thick, bushy eyebrows furrowed. ‘I don’t know of no house like that. Well, I mean, can’t you tell me anything else? Why you need the house, is it a National Trust property?’
‘I went there once for an enormous party. A kind of secret party for the wealthy.’ I knew how far-fetched it appeared. ‘Oh. Never mind. I’ll just have to drive around.’
‘Are you that woman?’
‘Which one?’ I asked, pulling my damp hair around my face.
‘The one with the child missing?’ He smiled. ‘You were in the newspaper again yesterday. Says you used to go to this university.’ Beaming, he patted the countertop. ‘I’d show you but I wrapped one of our customer’s chips with it.’
I nodded. ‘Right.’ I sighed deeply. ‘I really need to find this house.’
The man looked perplexed. ‘OK, tell me again. A house that was once a hotel nearby?’
I nodded.
‘In Aberystwyth?’
‘No, on the outskirts somewhere.’
He tapped his chin thoughtfully. ‘Just a second.’ He left the room through a metal chain curtain at the back and returned with a plethoric-looking woman, a potato in hand. ‘My wife, Morwen.’
