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Gone Astray

Page 12

by Michelle Davies


  Eventually Lesley nodded.

  ‘Yes, I did. She begged me to. She just wanted something like her friends would wear.’

  ‘What occasion did she want it for?’

  ‘A birthday party for one of the girls from school,’ said Lesley, her voice barely above a whisper now. ‘It was a Friday night when Mack was away golfing. I said she could go.’

  ‘He doesn’t know she went?’

  ‘He gets het up about her going out so I thought if he didn’t know, it wouldn’t hurt him. She wasn’t out all hours, she was home just after midnight.’

  ‘Who was the friend?’

  ‘Her name is Sasha. She was on the list of friends I gave to the police yesterday.’

  ‘Is that the only occasion Rosie’s worn the skirt?’

  ‘There have been a couple of other times. A couple of weeks ago she had a sleepover at Kathryn’s and took it with her. She just wants to be like her friends.’

  Maggie backtracked. ‘Sasha’s party – was it just girls from their school or were there others there?’

  ‘To be honest, Rosie didn’t say much about it, other than she had a good time,’ said Lesley. ‘I know Lily went and she doesn’t go to their school, so there must’ve been others. Oh, do you mean boys? That I don’t know. Rosie never said.’

  ‘Does she have any friends who are boys?’

  ‘She had a couple when we lived in Mansell, but they were the sons of friends that we don’t see any more. I doubt she still talks to them either.’

  ‘Yesterday you said you were sure she’s not seeing anyone.’

  Lesley stared at her. ‘She isn’t, but you asking me again makes me think you know something I don’t.’

  ‘I honestly don’t,’ said Maggie, and she gave the explanation she always reached for when someone got rattled during questioning. ‘My job as your family liaison – and Belmar’s – is to build up a picture of Rosie’s life, from the tiniest details like what she eats for breakfast to the clothes she wears and who she spends the most time with. Sometimes we have to go over the same ground and repeat certain questions to ensure we’re being as accurate as possible when we report back to the rest of the team. It doesn’t mean we’re fixated on a particular subject, we’re just being thorough.’

  ‘Okay, I’m sorry. This is just so difficult.’

  ‘I know, but if I don’t ask the questions, I might miss something. So, on the subject of boyfriends still, is there a chance Rosie might be seeing someone but keeping it a secret because she’s scared of what Mack might say?’

  ‘I don’t think she would take the risk. She knows Mack would ground her for lying to us. He says she has to wait until she’s sixteen to have a boyfriend and even then it has to be someone he’s met and is happy with.’

  ‘Has he always been so strict?’

  ‘I suppose so, but he just sees it as being protective. He has got worse since we won the money though. I think he worries she’ll get taken advantage of.’

  ‘Does she chat to her friends online a lot?’

  ‘Yes, she’s always on her iPad or she uses apps on her phone.’

  ‘So she could be talking to a boy that way?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ Lesley conceded. ‘Mack wouldn’t dream of checking either because he trusts her to not disobey him.’

  Maggie knew the High Tech Crime Unit was already going through Rosie’s iPad and social media profiles to check her online history. If she was engaged in some kind of cyber romance, they’d soon know about it.

  ‘I don’t think Rosie would break his trust either. She’s not devious like some teenagers who give their parents the runaround. She can be stroppy and argumentative, but really she’s quite immature for her age, which is partly my fault.’

  ‘Why?’

  Tears slid down Lesley’s face. ‘I babied her too much when she was little because she’s an only child.’

  ‘Did you never want more children?’

  ‘Mack didn’t. I was thirty-three when I had Rosie and it was a difficult pregnancy, so when he said one was enough I went along with it. It’s not something I’ve deeply regretted either: I had friends with children the same age as Rosie who went on to have a second baby and when I watched them struggle with two I was glad I only had her to worry about. But now,’ she gulped back a huge sob, ‘I keep thinking what this would be like if Rosie had a brother or sister.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ asked Maggie gently.

  ‘What if you never find her? What if she’s dead?’ Lesley’s voice broke. ‘Being a mum is all I’m good for. If she doesn’t come back, what’s the point of going on? What will I do?’

  Maggie let her cry. She had no answer to salve her distress and she wasn’t going to insult her with a clumsy attempt at pretending everything was going to be okay. Because right now none of them knew if it would be. At the same time, she made a mental note to call Victim Support for advice. Even if Mack and Lesley wouldn’t talk to them directly just yet, they might still be able to help.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Lesley eventually. ‘You must think I’m awful. It must sound like I want to replace Rosie, but that’s not how I meant it. I just, well—’

  ‘I didn’t think that’s what you meant.’

  ‘Do you have children?’

  ‘No, but I hope to one day. My sister has three, two boys and a girl, and I spend a lot of time with them. I can’t imagine not having my own,’ said Maggie, truthfully.

  ‘Three? She’s brave,’ said Lesley, managing a small smile.

  ‘I’m not sure that’s how she sees it.’

  Maggie glanced down at her notebook to remind herself what else she needed to ask. The name Suzy Breed leapt out from the page.

  ‘There is one more thing I want to check,’ she said, mindful of how she posed the question. ‘We’re working through the list of people that Rosie comes into regular contact with, and someone’s mentioned Suzy Breed as an acquaintance. Does that name mean anything to you?’

  Lesley frowned. ‘Where did you hear that?’

  Maggie was deliberately vague. ‘I’m not sure. DCI Umpire passed it on to me. Do you know her?’

  ‘Not really, but Mack does.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Suzy was his first girlfriend. They went out in their last year at school. They haven’t spoken in years though, because she moved to New Zealand in her late twenties and they lost touch. I met her once or twice before she left but that was it. I can’t think why her name would come up now.’

  ‘So she’s never met Rosie?’

  ‘No. She emigrated a few years before Rosie was born. Suzy wouldn’t have seen a picture of Rosie, let alone met her, because she and Mack aren’t even Facebook friends. I’ve never mentioned her to Rosie and I’d be surprised if he has, so Rosie wouldn’t have a clue about who she is. None at all.’

  19

  Satisfied she’d covered everything Umpire wanted her to, Maggie closed her notebook. But Lesley wasn’t done yet. She chewed nervously on a fingernail.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said about Rosie cutting herself. I still don’t think she does, but I am starting to wonder if there was something bothering her, something other than her exams,’ she said.

  ‘Go on,’ said Maggie, flipping her notebook open again.

  ‘She’s been very moody lately, more so than usual. I guess I just put it down to her schoolwork and being a teenager, but now I think there was more to it. She hasn’t been sleeping well lately, either waking really early or getting up in the night to come downstairs and watch TV. I asked her about it and she said she was fine. I guess I should’ve kept on until she told me.’

  ‘Any idea what it could be?’

  ‘That’s the problem, I don’t know. It could be something to do with her friends, it could be something to do with us.’

  ‘Okay, well let’s start with that. Has anything happened at home that’s unsettled her?’

  ‘Besides winning fifteen million? Sorr
y, I shouldn’t be glib,’ she said apologetically. ‘I suppose there has been some tension between me and Mack that Rosie might have picked up on. You’ve probably noticed it too. The thing is, I’m not comfortable with having lots of money. I struggle with spending it, whereas Mack has no problem. It just seems so . . . so wasteful. There are things he buys that I think we just don’t need, like clothes and jewellery and paintings I can’t stand the look of. Thousands and thousands of pounds on, well, tat.’

  ‘And Mack doesn’t understand how you feel?’

  ‘Doesn’t care, more like. Actually, I’m being unfair. He just wants us to enjoy ourselves. But I can’t seem to. It stresses me out, the responsibility of having all that money. I’ve even lost weight worrying about it.’

  That would explain the photograph in the hallway of Lesley looking plumper, thought Maggie. It must’ve been taken before the win, when she was happier.

  ‘Do you argue about it in front of Rosie?’

  ‘We’ve always tried not to row when she’s around as a rule, but I imagine she has heard us, yes.’

  ‘This is an awkward question, I know, but if she were to take sides, whose would she take?’

  Lesley flushed. ‘Mack’s. They’ve always been as thick as thieves, ever since she was little. She adores him.’

  ‘Do you think she might have confided in him about whatever was bothering her, and for whatever reason he’s chosen not to tell you?’ said Maggie. ‘Are they inclined to keep things from you?’

  Lesley nodded. ‘Take the new shoes missing from her room. He bought them for her knowing I’d said she couldn’t have them. That’s typical of them both. I meant it when I said I was the one who gets in their way.’

  ‘But she definitely wouldn’t discuss relationships with Mack, would she? Knowing how he feels about boyfriends.’

  ‘No, she wouldn’t.’

  ‘So if what’s bothering her is something along those lines, the chances are she wouldn’t talk to either of you about it?’

  ‘I guess not.’ Lesley groaned and rubbed her face with her hands. ‘I feel terrible.’

  ‘If Rosie doesn’t want to talk to you, that’s not your fault—’

  ‘No, I mean I actually feel terrible. I feel grimy.’

  Maggie knew it was a good time to take a break.

  ‘Look, I think we’re done here and I’ve covered everything I need to, so why don’t you have a shower before the press conference?’

  Lesley pulled a face. ‘To look nice for the cameras?’

  ‘No, it’s not about you looking your best, that’s not important. I just think you’ll feel a bit better if you freshen up. To be honest, I could do with a shower myself.’

  ‘You should’ve said,’ Lesley exclaimed, getting to her feet. ‘Come with me, I’ll show you to one of the guest bedrooms. You can use it tonight if, well . . .’

  Maggie nipped outside to the driveway to get her overnight bag from her car. At the same time she quickly tried to call Umpire to tell him about the interview but he didn’t answer. She left a message. Back indoors, Lesley led her upstairs to one of the bedrooms at the opposite end of the corridor to Rosie’s bedroom, one door down from Mack’s study. As they passed, she could hear the low hum of voices but couldn’t make out whose.

  ‘Here you go,’ said Lesley, pushing the door open.

  ‘Wow, this is lovely,’ said Maggie, shrugging her suit jacket off as she stepped through the doorway.

  The guest room was twice the size of the main bedroom in Maggie’s flat. The floors were stripped pine, matching the double wardrobe along one wall and the beautiful dressing table in the corner next to the window. The room’s centrepiece was a king-size bed covered in a snow-white duvet and scattered with half a dozen crimson pillows in different shapes and sizes. The walls were painted a soft cream and there were red-and-white-checked curtains hanging at the window. It was the kind of room that made Maggie wish she were more creative when it came to decorating.

  ‘The bathroom is just through there,’ said Lesley, pointing to a door along the wall between the wardrobe and the dressing table. ‘You’ll find everything you need, shampoo, shower gel, towels. There’s also a hairdryer in the cabinet under the sink.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Maggie. ‘I won’t be long.’

  ‘Take as long as you like.’

  Lesley was about to leave, but stopped by the door. Looking nervous again, she twisted her wedding ring round her finger.

  ‘About what I said downstairs just now . . . I don’t want you to think Mack and I aren’t happy. We do argue about the money, but on the whole our marriage is fine. We’ve been together for eighteen years now and it’ll take more than a few million to split us up.’

  The bathroom was as luxurious as the bedroom, with a shower large enough to fit two people. Maggie lathered shampoo into her hair as water blasted down on her – it was so powerful her skin went numb where it hit. She felt her fatigue wash away with the shampoo suds and by the time she’d rinsed the second application out of her hair, her mind was buzzing again.

  She couldn’t wait to speak to Umpire and tell him what Lesley had said during her interview. Hopefully he’d be pleased with how she did and it would no longer feel like she was treading on eggshells around him.

  Shower done, she quickly dried her hair and rooted around her holdall for the make-up bag that contained a few basic essentials: blusher, mascara, pressed powder. She never wore lipstick because she couldn’t stand her lips being sticky. She got dressed in fresh clothes, repacked her bag and went to take it back downstairs to her car.

  The thick carpet muffled her footsteps as she padded down the hallway. As she approached Mack’s office, she realized the door was open and she could hear him talking to someone. Thinking it was Belmar she stopped to say something, then caught a glimpse of Mack through the open crack and saw he was alone and on the phone. He didn’t notice her, though, because he was too busy whispering angrily at whoever was on the other end of the call.

  ‘Stop ringing me,’ she heard him say. ‘I won’t tell you again.’

  Maggie knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on a private conversation and that she should carry on walking but she couldn’t drag herself away.

  ‘I don’t want Lesley knowing about this,’ Mack went on. ‘Yes, of course I’m going to tell her, I told you I would, but not right now. Not with Rosie missing.’ He suddenly swore. ‘Don’t be so fucking selfish. I told you I’d fix it and I will. Now leave me alone.’

  20

  A week after their win, when it still hadn’t sunk in despite the champagne ceremony and an oversized cheque for the full amount being handed to them, despite their faces being all over the papers, Lesley drove to their nearest Sainsbury’s, to the row of cash machines lined up outside the entrance. In a daze she printed out dozens of balance receipts and each one told her the same thing: Lesley Kinnock, you are rich beyond your wildest dreams.

  Then someone recognized her and a crowd gathered. They all wanted to know the same thing: what did it feel like to have so much money and what was she spending it on? She could still remember that horrible feeling of being cornered. Nervous and tense, she’d tried to walk away but the crowd took that as a sign she was blanking them. Someone shouted, ‘Fucking snob!’ at her retreating back as she hurried to her car.

  Someone took her photo too, presumably on a phone given the quality of the image that appeared in one of the national tabloids the day after. It showed Lesley checking one of the balance receipts, her face set in a frown, under the headline: EURO OUT OF LUCK! The same someone had given the paper false quotes claiming she wasn’t able to get any money out of the machine and the piece was littered with puns about her being cash strapped.

  Lesley wondered if the reporter who wrote the story was among the group waiting in the conference room next door. She, Mack and Maggie were holed up in a small office on the first floor of Mansell police station and she could hear the buzz of voices in the conference room next
door growing louder as the minutes ticked by until the start of the press conference.

  She plucked at the hem of her cardigan. It was one she hated, bought at Mack’s insistence during a shopping trip to London. Pale green, cashmere, with ribbon-covered buttons, it didn’t suit her colouring and made her look washed out.

  Maggie had been right about the shower helping though. As she had stood beneath the jet of hot water and let it pound against her skin, for a moment she had felt revived. But the respite didn’t last and panic overwhelmed her as she thought about Rosie and where she could be. She’d dropped to her knees and cried and that was where Mack found her, hunched over on the shower floor, water spraying relentlessly against the curve of her spine. Without a word he stepped into the cubicle, took her in his arms and held her as her tears washed down the plughole with the shower spray. It was only after, when he lifted her out and gently wrapped her in a towel, that Lesley realized he’d been fully dressed the entire time.

  He stood by the window, watching the white-grey clouds gather speed across the darkening sky. The white shirt and navy trousers that were soaked by the shower had been swapped for an identical white shirt and a pair of grey cords. He decided at the last minute not to wear a tie because, he rationalized to Lesley, Rosie rarely saw him in one since he’d given up work and she might think it odd if, somehow, by some miracle, she watched the press conference on TV.

  His face was set in a frown as he watched the clouds and she knew he was dealing with their daughter’s disappearance the only way he knew how, by keeping his emotions tightly coiled inside. It was an insular coping mechanism she’d grown used to over the years they’d been together. ‘That man’s so stoic it’ll take a hurricane to bend him,’ her mother had observed the first time Lesley took him home. She had taken the comment to be a compliment but her mother confided some years later, after she and Mack were married, that she feared her son-in-law’s tendency to put on a front might make Lesley unhappy in the long run. ‘I don’t know if he’ll let his guard down enough to love you in the way you need to be loved.’

 

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