Then He Was Gone

by Stephen Edger

  ‘Come again.’

  ‘You remember Vicky? She’s one of the legal secretaries at our firm. Anyway, she was up in Edinburgh on the course, and when I told her about our discussion, she told me I was a bloody fool, and that I should apologise straight away.’

  ‘You could have phoned.’

  ‘I know I could, but an apology over the phone isn’t as sincere as one in person.’

  ‘What about your course? I thought it was a week long.’

  ‘It finished early. The rest are staying up there for the night, enjoying the spa and golf facilities at the hotel. I decided to fly over here and spend the weekend with you. I know with everything that’s going on, it won’t be the romantic getaway we’d hope for, but I want you to know I’m here for you. For whatever you need.’

  ‘Where are you staying? I think this hotel is full.’

  ‘I’m checked in at a little place down the road. It’s more of a B&B, but it calls itself a hotel.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘What’s the place called?’

  ‘Uh, the Hôtel Calais Coquelles, or something. It’s about ten minutes away. Hey, are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.’

  This couldn’t be happening: her boyfriend was staying in the same hotel as the man she’d slept with two days before. Was fate punishing her?

  ‘I’m fine, I just…I heard bad things about the place.’

  ‘It seems nice enough to me.’

  She thought quickly. ‘Cockroaches! I heard it gets infested with cockroaches. Is there nowhere else you could stay? There must be hundreds of better hotels.’

  ‘Listen, it’s not the Ritz, but it’ll do for what I need: somewhere to put my head at night. Relax, will you! If you come over, I’ll be sure to fumigate the place first.’ He added a wink for good measure.

  She frowned. ‘I wish you hadn’t just shown up like this. You should have called first. I haven’t heard from you all week.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry about that. We had to hand over our electronic devices. The hotel we were in doubles as a voluntary rehabilitation centre. Not for real problems, but for those who just want to switch off the real world, and find inner peace. It was all in the brochure they gave us when we arrived. Anyway, I haven’t had my phone all week, so I wasn’t able to call you. I’m sorry to turn up unannounced, but you’re pleased to see me, aren’t you?’

  She looked away. ‘Of course I am. It’s just…there’s so much going on, and…Jules is majorly stressed out. Today we’re going back to the shopping centre where Noah was snatched. They’re filming a reconstruction thing, which they’re going to televise across Europe, in the hopes that it jogs someone’s memory.’

  ‘Are the two of you going to -’

  ‘No, they’re using actors. Durand’s team have worked with the producers to cobble together what happened. We’re going along to watch, and then make another appeal.’

  ‘Do you want me to come with you and lend support?’

  ‘Would you be offended if I said no? I don’t think Jules wants to see you and me being all loved up and cosy. You know?’

  ‘I understand. Say no more. I can keep myself busy for the day. Do you think it would be okay if I see you later? I think we need to talk about some things.’

  ‘Sure. But can I call you? I don’t know what time we’ll be done at the filming.’

  ‘Of course.’ He leaned in and kissed her. She did her best to return the affection. He waved goodbye, and headed out to the car park. Not a single reporter tried to speak to him, as he drove off in the BMW he must have hired at the airport. Becky remained where she was, until she saw Julia heading down the stairs.

  ‘Where’s my breakfast?’

  ‘What? Oh sorry, I forgot.’

  ‘Never mind, I’ll get something later. Shall we go?’

  Becky nodded, and followed her out to the car. Neither looked up as the paparazzi called their names.

  FORTY-FIVE

  Becky had never spent time on a film set, and it was only now, as she watched the camera apparatus and crane’s being set up that she realised just how much effort went into filmmaking. They’d been told the re-enactment would only be two minutes long when it had been edited. Apparently, anything longer than that, and the viewing public would lose interest. Their ordeal on Saturday had felt longer than just a couple of minutes. And of course it had been. They’d spent hours in the two security offices watching the footage from the security cameras.

  She wanted to scream: ‘How could anyone lose interest? This is Noah we’re talking about!’ But it wouldn’t do any good. It was the nature of the modern world: if we don’t have a personal interest or gain in something, we only dedicate a minimal amount of interest. In fairness, if Becky didn’t know Noah and Julia, she probably would have lost interest after two minutes. Not that she would admit that to Julia.

  The re-enactment was being filmed in three parts. They had portioned off part of the hypermarket to film the sequence where Noah wandered off. The second part would see Noah leaving the hypermarket with the man in the baseball cap, and the final main sequence was of Noah being put into the van and driven away. A handheld camera would also follow the actors around the hypermarket for background shots, prior to the first sequence.

  It would have made more sense to undertake the filming on Sunday when the shopping centre was next due to be closed. The director hadn’t stopped complaining about the restraints put on him, filming in the middle of the day on a Friday. It was Diane Turner’s presence that had stepped up the filming schedule. Julia had phoned and met the publicist yesterday afternoon, and it had taken less than a day for Turner’s PR machine to crank into action.

  Turner had offered to work for free, unless her efforts directly led to the recovery of Noah. She was an impressive woman, with a single-mindedness that neither Becky nor Julia possessed. Becky was now wondering if Durand’s team would have made more progress had they employed Turner from day one. Turner had managed to initiate the re-enactment, which would finish with a fresh appeal from Julia.

  Becky had offered to read the statement again, but Turner had said it would sound better coming from Julia directly. ‘It is time for the public to hear from Julia. She is as much the victim here as Noah. They need to be reminded of that. Trust me, it’s for the best.’

  Becky hadn’t argued. It had been so tough sitting in front of the flashing cameras on Sunday evening that she was relieved she wouldn’t be under that pressure again.

  The director shouted for filming to start. Becky was standing by one of the dozen screens behind all the equipment, allowing her to see what was being filmed by the mobile camera. She watched the blonde actress pushing the trolley up and down a couple of aisles. The trolley already contained a fresh box of pastries and cream éclairs. She’d forgotten they’d put cakes in their trolley. Having missed breakfast, the thought of cream éclairs was making her stomach grumble.

  The director had explained that a voiceover artist would be speaking over these moving images. They had hired an artist from each of the countries that the film would be televised in. Each had a version of the script in their own language. Becky didn’t think much of the actress they’d employed to play her. Facially they didn’t look alike, and it was obvious to Becky that she was wearing a blonde wig for the part. The actress was at least two dress sizes bigger than Becky, and it annoyed her that anyone who saw the film would think she was bigger than she was. She’d worked hard at the gym and on her diet to lose weight, but nobody would know it.

  The actress playing Julia was a closer match, but still not a spitting image. The actress’s hair was several inches shorter than Julia’s, and she wasn’t as pretty either. Julia wasn’t watching the filming. She was off with Durand and Turner rehearsing the script for the appeal later.

  The actresses moved into position in the clothing aisle, and it was the first time Becky had noticed the young boy playing Noah. His name was Michael, and he was a local boy who had appeared in a French
commercial for yoghurt earlier in the year. It didn’t matter that he didn’t speak English as he didn’t have a speaking part in this production. From behind, he looked just like Noah. They had managed to find similar cream shorts and a red t-shirt. Watching him on the screen sent a cold shiver along Becky’s spine.

  The camera panned away as the actresses searched the boxes of medicines on the stand. The young boy was holding onto the trolley, but let go, and started to wander towards the edge of the aisle.

  She wanted to interrupt the filming and tell them they’d got it wrong. Julia had caught him straying once and told him to come back. Cutting that part made them look negligent.

  The young actor continued to the bottom of the aisle and ducked out of view. The filming stopped and the cameras were set up from the opposite end of the aisle. The young boy moved back to his position, and the filming started again.

  Becky’s heart was throbbing, as she watched the little boy checking over his shoulder at the two actresses who were ignoring him.

  Her eyes clouded over with tears, and several escaped down her cheeks. She was reliving the nightmare, but with no way to stop it happening again. She wanted to run over to the actresses and force them to check on Noah. She wanted to take Noah’s hand and lift him into the trolley so he couldn’t get out. She wanted to reset time, but instead, she was forced to stand and watch it unfold as an outsider looking in.

  The camera focused next on the actresses’ reactions as they realised the boy had gone. They didn’t look scared enough. And they weren’t searching frantically for him.

  The director yelled, ‘Cut,’ and the filming stopped. Becky dabbed her eyes with a tissue, relieved that Julia hadn’t been forced to relive the moment.

  She hadn’t seen the actor playing the abductor yet, and she wondered how much artistic licence had been taken with his wardrobe and appearance. He was the key to the film. He had to look and move the same way as the man in the security footage, or it wouldn’t serve its purpose in jogging memories.

  The area she was in was cordoned off from the public, but there was a small crowd gathered at the edge of the tape, curious about what was being filmed, or maybe trying to spot a Hollywood actor in the mix. The crew had been given three hours to produce the video, to avoid too much disruption to those who had come to the centre to shop. Those gathered at the tape didn’t seem unhappy at the disruption. To many of them, watching the shooting was probably the highlight of their day.

  Becky chastised herself for being judgemental, as she looked at their faces. She froze as a horrifying thought occurred: could he be watching now?

  She’d heard that serial killers often returned to the scene of their crimes to check they hadn’t been discovered, but could the same be said for child abductors? She’d never heard of the theory, but she’d never been involved in a missing child case before.

  FORTY-SIX

  Becky was still scanning faces in the crowd as the film crew set up their equipment outside of the hypermarket. The next sequence of shots would see the actor playing Noah being led away by the actor in the baseball cap. Becky didn’t want to watch the sequence, having seen it dozens of times already on the security camera footage, yet she couldn’t compel herself to look away. She could have gone for a walk, could have headed to the food court and cured her grumbling stomach, or even stepped outside for a cigarette. Yet, here she was, still huddling inside the cordon, watching the re-enactment being shot.

  Becky saw the man in the baseball cap appear on the screen, and nearly screamed. She’d not seen his face properly on the security footage, as he’d kept his head low as he’d led Noah away. Seeing him staring at her through the screen made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. The actor’s face was just as she’d imagined the kidnapper to be. The length of his dark bushy beard, the darkness of his cold eyes, and the way the faded khaki-coloured t-shirt clung to his athletic frame: she was staring at the face that had haunted her dreams for a week. And then he smiled broadly: it was so out of character. The camera panned out, and she saw the actor playing Noah was chatting to him, and they’d shared a joke.

  She hadn’t thought much about how the figure had convinced Noah to walk off with him. She’d assumed he must have threatened Noah, but there were no signs of fear in Noah’s body language as he’d left the shopping centre. If anything, he’d looked happy; as if walking off with the figure was the most natural thing in the world.

  The director ordered calm, and the filming began. The smirk was gone from the figure’s face. His head was bowed, and she could no longer see those dead eyes. She watched the camera pulling back as the man and the boy walked towards it. In the final cut of the video, they were planning to splice genuine camera footage with the scenes being filmed to add to the authenticity of the piece.

  Becky wanted to stop the figure and demand why he’d taken Noah.

  The director ordered the scene to be reshot as one of the hired extras, had looked straight at the camera. The actors returned to their marks, before moving off again. The way the actor walked was wrong. He was too relaxed. He was walking quickly, but without purpose.

  She pictured the security footage in her mind. The figure hadn’t been relaxed. He hadn’t been someone confident he would get away with snatching the boy. At no point had he looked up, because he’d had a single purpose: to get Noah to the van.

  She’d seen that kind of walk before. It was the walk of a man getting from A to B in the most efficient capacity. It was the walk of a soldier.

  Under all that beard…beneath the baseball cap. Was Owen the one they should have been searching for? That would explain why he’d asked about “the boy” in his secret phone call.

  She didn’t want to believe it was possible. The thought that she’d slept with someone who could do something so evil, made her want to retch. She forced herself to swallow, as she took several breaths.

  The room felt like it was spinning.

  She needed food.

  She reached out for a nearby railing to steady herself. Nobody had noticed her sudden change in temperament, and for the first time she was grateful she was a spare part.

  She needed fresh air and was craving a cigarette.

  She reached into her jacket pocket for her packet of cigarettes. She pulled out the box, and was surprised to find a piece of folded paper trapped between the packet and her fingers. She slid the piece of paper free and unfolded it.

  Her legs buckled, and she crashed backwards into the railing. She re-read the words on the piece of paper: I know who took Noah. If you ever want to see him alive again, meet me at the Cap Blanc Nez by the beach in Wissant. Come alone. If I see the police anywhere near, you will never see Noah again. I’ll be watching.

  Becky’s breaths were coming in short, rapid bursts. The paper hadn’t been in her pocket when she’d left the hotel. She knew that because she’d had a cigarette outside, after they’d parked up. Julia had waited with her, and then they’d headed in to meet with Turner and Durand. There had been no piece of paper when she’d returned the cigarettes and lighter to her pocket, which meant someone had put it in there since she’d been inside.

  She tried to remember if anybody had bumped into her at any point, but her mind was blank. She’d been stood near a pillar when the first sequences were shot, and she’d been stood by the railing ever since. She was within the cordon tape the whole time. Could it have been one of the crew who put the note in her pocket?

  One thing was clear, whoever had left the note had been in the shopping centre today. What’s more, if that person was watching her, he or she was probably still in the shopping centre.

  She looked around the crowd of faces over her shoulder, looking for any face that looked out of place, but it could have been any of them. She stood on tiptoes to try and see over their heads in case someone was watching, but she couldn’t see any eyes staring straight at her.

  She looked back at the note in her hands. She needed to tell Durand. He needed to know
that somebody had reached out to her, but he was nowhere in sight, and if she searched him out and the person saw it, he or she might bolt.

  She wished she hadn’t told Caleb not to come with her. He’d have known what to do.

  She spotted the bearded actor in the baseball cap laughing with the young actor and knew one thing: she couldn’t pass up this opportunity.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Becky shoved the piece of paper back into her pocket, but kept the cigarettes out.

  She tried to remain calm, acting as if her departure was the most natural thing in the world. Nobody else knew where or why she was going.

  She took a deep breath, and pushed under the cordon tape. She half-expected one of the crew to suddenly spot her slipping away, and try to stop her, but nobody noticed. They were too busy watching the director berating another of his volunteer extras.

  She pushed herself through the now waning crowd of observers. Any one of them could have slipped the note into her pocket. It was sickening to know that someone was watching.

  Her heart was racing, and her bladder felt like it might burst, even though she hadn’t had anything to drink all morning. She headed for the escalator down, knowing that her exit to the car park from the upper level would be blocked by the film crew. Once on the ground floor, she looked at the toilets where she’d chased the woman in the yellow coat on Saturday. She could still picture the look of surprise on the woman’s face as Becky had barged the toilet door open and accused her of snatching Noah. She’d startled the woman’s poor son too. Becky was grateful that part of the story hadn’t made it into the script for the re-enactment.

  She was walking past the entrance to the toilets, when she heard her name being called. She turned and saw Julia approaching. That was the last thing she needed.

  ‘Bex, where you off to?’

  She didn’t know what to say. If he was watching and saw her speaking to Julia for longer than necessary, he would suspect Becky had told her about the note.