Alice Teale is Missing

by H. A. Linskey

  ‘He just was. He acted strange.’

  ‘Did he act strange when he turned you down, Sophie, was that it?’ asked Beth. ‘Or were you hurt because he never called you afterwards?’

  ‘No.’ She looked completely panicked now. ‘Who’s been saying that?’

  ‘It’s pretty obvious,’ Beth told her. ‘And it explains why you would make up a sick story like that to get your own back. ‘“What’s the worst thing I can say about him?” Was that what you asked yourself, or were you just jealous because he actually loved his sister but didn’t care about you?’

  ‘That wasn’t it. I never liked him that much, even then.’

  Another voice chipped in then, a girl from the other end of the table, speaking for the first time. ‘You told me you did.’ And it sounded true, because it was said with just the right amount of conviction, even relish.

  ‘I never.’ But Sophie’s protest was weak.

  ‘Who told you that sick rumour about Daniel and his sister?’ Black was addressing them all. ‘Was it this one?’ He jerked his head towards Sophie; he didn’t even want to use her name.

  A couple of them nodded, and one or two of them mumbled that it had been. They were hanging Sophie out to dry.

  ‘It wasn’t me that started it.’

  ‘Of course it was,’ said Black.

  ‘I just passed on what I was told.’

  ‘Who told it to you, then?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘How convenient. I’ve been doing this for a long time, Sophie, and I know a made-up story when I hear one. This was just juicy enough to go around a small town in days.’

  The girl looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there. ‘Daniel knew it was you straight away, didn’t he? That’s why he threw that drink in your face,’ he told the shocked girl, and the others stared at Sophie, as if truly seeing her for the first time.

  ‘I’d have thrown a drink in her face,’ Beth told Black as they exited the pub a moment later.

  They were halfway across the market square and heading for Black’s car when a man suddenly emerged from the working men’s club and came towards them at speed. It was Ricky. He’d obviously seen them both go into the Dirty Donkey and had been looking out for them ever since. It was a short jog, but he was out of condition and breathless when he reached Beth and Lucas. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out at first was a gasp.

  ‘You got something to tell us, Ricky?’ Black feigned surprise.

  ‘I didn’t want to say anything in there,’ he managed, and he jerked his thumb back at the club. ‘Too many nosy buggers.’

  ‘Out with it, then,’ urged Black.

  ‘It’s not what you think. You’ve got it all wrong about her,’ he said. ‘Alice, I mean.’

  ‘If you’ve got something to tell us, then say it. Hints aren’t helpful.’

  ‘All right,’ he said after a moment. ‘You’re barking up the wrong tree. She wasn’t really interested in guys. I thought she was, but it turns out she wasn’t.’

  ‘She has a boyfriend, Ricky,’ Beth reminded him.

  ‘Yeah, I wonder why.’ His tone was sarcastic. ‘Maybe to deflect attention?’

  ‘From what?’

  ‘From what she really liked.’

  ‘Oh God,’ said Black. ‘You’re one of those blokes, aren’t you? You think you’re God’s gift to women and, if one of them doesn’t fancy you, then she must be a lesbian. I knew guys like you existed. I’ve just never met one – till now.’

  He flushed then. ‘I’m not making this up,’ he blustered. ‘Alice Teale is a dyke. She’s on the other bus.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ said Black.

  ‘It’s not bullshit, and if you don’t believe me, then ask that friend of hers.’

  ‘Chloe?’ asked Beth.

  ‘No, the other one,’ he said. ‘The fit one – and what a bloody waste that is.’

  ‘Alice Teale is not in a relationship with Kirstie,’ said Beth scornfully. ‘No one has told us that.’

  ‘How come they kissed, then?’

  Black gave Ricky a disbelieving look.

  ‘I saw it!’

  ‘You saw Alice kissing Kirstie?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘But a kiss doesn’t always mean …’ Beth began.

  ‘This wasn’t a peck on the cheek. It was a full-on snog.’

  ‘And you actually saw this?’ said Black. ‘How? Were you peeping in through her window?’

  ‘It wasn’t just me. A bunch of us saw them, and it was the kind of kiss you can’t fake.’

  Until that point, it had never crossed Beth’s mind that, if Alice Teale was really seeing someone else, it might be a woman. In her journal she talked about a ‘He’ not a ‘her’, and Alice’s neighbour had clearly seen a man’s torso, not a woman’s, through her bedroom window, but there was something about the certainty in Ricky’s manner that made her feel she couldn’t entirely dismiss that notion now. Was this why Alice found her boyfriend so unsatisfying? She preferred girls? Was there one more secret Alice Teale had been keeping from the world, and how, if at all, was this linked to the girl’s disappearance?

  ‘Where exactly was this, Ricky?’ asked Beth.

  He pointed back the way they had come. ‘The pub you’ve just been in.’

  22

  ‘Well,’ said Black as they watched Ricky walk back into the working men’s club, ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’

  ‘My lips are sealed,’ said Beth.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s what Alice said about Kirstie’s secret, in the journal, remember? My lips are sealed, which is kind of appropriate, really,’ she recited. ‘She must have been talking about their kiss.’

  ‘She must have been,’ conceded Black, who was taken aback by the notion of Alice Teale and Kirstie being more than just friends.

  ‘We’d better speak to Kirstie again.’

  ‘Yes.’ Black looked at his watch. ‘But not now. It’ll keep. You in a hurry to get back?’ he asked, once they were in his car.

  To an empty flat? Of course not.

  ‘No, and you promised me food.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I have to pick something up first.’ Could he be any more vague? ‘But it’s on the way.’

  Anything to avoid another omelette or microwaved jacket potato. ‘And you can guarantee food?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then I’m in.’

  He drove them to a tiny former fishing town and weaved through the streets until he found the road he was looking for. He parked by a broken street lamp and said, ‘Wait here.’

  Beth watched as Black left the car, walked a few yards down the street then turned and climbed some steps towards a large building that had been converted into apartments. If she leaned to one side and craned her neck, she could just make out his profile through a gap in the bushes. What was he up to? He rang the bell and the door was answered by another man, who left Black standing on the step. Moments later, he returned with a large cardboard box, which he set down on the step. Black disappeared from view for a moment while he bent down, presumably to examine the contents. Seconds later, satisfied, he reached into his pocket, took out his wallet and paid the man with a small bundle of notes. Beth leaned back into a more normal position in time to see him re-emerge, carrying the box, which he put in the boot before joining her in the car.

  Without explanation, he drove away.

  ‘What’s in the box?’ she asked.

  ‘Cocaine,’ he said. ‘Ninety per cent pure, finest Bolivian and, if you don’t squeal, I’ll give you a slice of the action.’

  ‘You never should have given up the stand-up comedy,’ she said dryly.

  Their destination turned out to be three ancient railway carriages that had been linked together on an isolated plot of land high up by the side of a main road overlooking the Northumbrian coastline. The carriages were freshly painted and had been lovingly restored, lights glowed inside them and there were t
iny curtains in the windows. There was a prefab office nearby, a static caravan off to one side, and a sign at the edge of the gravel car park explained that the ‘Sidings Diner’ was opening soon.

  Black carried the box up the steps of the first railway carriage and Beth followed him. He rapped on the door and a woman in her early thirties answered. ‘Lucas!’ she exclaimed brightly. Was there another side to her grumpy colleague, and a parallel universe in which people were actually pleased to see this man? The woman noticed her then. ‘And you brought a friend.’

  ‘This is my colleague, Beth.’ He emphasized the word ‘colleague’ to forestall any notion that she was a friend.

  ‘Hi, I’m Gemma.’ She stretched past Black to briefly shake Beth’s hand. ‘Come in, both of you.’

  They walked in on a cosy, almost-finished scene, tables standing ready to be laid for dinner. The original seats had been taken out of the carriages and the space this made had been used to create an American-style diner, complete with framed vintage posters of US adverts and an ancient jukebox in one corner. A man in his mid-thirties was standing on a small stool while he worked to rewire a light in the ceiling of the carriage. ‘Lucas, how are you doing, mate?’ He stepped down from the stool and came towards them. ‘You’re a bit early, though. The opening isn’t till next week.’

  ‘I know. I brought you something for that.’ And he nodded towards the jukebox. He set the cardboard box down on the floor and then told Beth, ‘Adam and Gemma are responsible for this …’

  ‘Monstrosity?’ Adam laughed and Gemma clasped his hand.

  ‘Don’t talk about our baby like that,’ she mock-scolded him.

  ‘What’ve you got in the box?’ Adam sounded like an excitable child and he bent to examine its contents. ‘Seven-inch records,’ he noted approvingly. ‘And they’re already dinked!’

  ‘Dinked?’ asked Beth.

  ‘The holes in the middle are enlarged so they can be played on a jukebox,’ explained Adam. ‘Where did you get all these?’

  ‘I scoured dozens of record stores across the region till I had enough.’

  ‘Really?’ asked Gemma, impressed.

  ‘No,’ he laughed. ‘I bought them all off eBay from some guy down the road who didn’t know what he was sitting on. Got the lot for thirty-five quid.’

  ‘Thirty-five? There’s got to be …’ Adam was flicking through the classic vinyl singles animatedly.

  ‘Two hundred,’ said Lucas. ‘I didn’t count them, but I know where he lives, so …’

  ‘“River Deep – Mountain High” … “Hotel California” … “Waterloo Sunset” …’ Each title made him more excited. ‘Pay the man, Gemma!’

  ‘Of course.’

  Black shook his head. ‘A housewarming present.’ Then he corrected himself: ‘A diner-warming present.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Adam.

  ‘Stay for dinner at least, please, both of you. I’ll make a bowl of chilli.’

  This was the food he had promised Beth, but now, for Gemma’s benefit, he acted surprised. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘if you’re sure it’s no trouble.’

  They ate in the carriage, to the sound of classic sixties and seventies soul songs coming from the old jukebox. That, and the subdued lighting, gave the diner a mellow vibe, or maybe it was the wine. Gemma insisted on topping up Beth. ‘Why not,’ she told her, ‘if Lucas is driving?’

  ‘Why not indeed?’

  ‘Are you both on this Alice Teale case?’ asked Gemma.

  ‘We saw you on the news, Lucas,’ explained Adam. ‘Your press conference.’

  ‘Yeah, we’re both on it.’

  ‘It’s terrible. Are you going to get someone for it?’ Adam asked them. ‘I mean, I know you can’t really talk about it, but …’

  ‘If someone has abducted her, or harmed her, then yes, we’ll get them.’

  Adam seemed confused. ‘Well, what other explanation could there be?’

  ‘She might have run off,’ said Black. ‘People do sometimes.’

  ‘But you don’t believe that,’ said Adam. ‘I can tell.’

  Black shrugged in a non-committal way, but Adam was warming to the subject. ‘Did she have a boyfriend? I bet it was the boyfriend.’ Adam didn’t seem to have picked up on the fact that Black wasn’t keen to discuss it.

  ‘Adam,’ warned Gemma.

  ‘What? It often is,’ he protested. ‘What do you think, Beth?’

  And when all eyes turned to her, Beth said, ‘I think … this chilli is great,’ and Gemma laughed. ‘And I love your diner.’

  ‘Then you must come to the opening,’ Gemma assured her. ‘Right, Lucas?’

  ‘Er,’ was all he managed.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Beth. ‘Lucas might want to bring someone else.’

  ‘That’ll be the day,’ said Gemma.

  Adam instantly started singing ‘That’ll Be the Day’ by Buddy Holly, then he stopped and wondered out loud, ‘Do we have that one, do you think?’ He meant in the pile of 45s Black had brought him. ‘You should definitely come, Beth. You two might be the only ones who do.’

  ‘He’s such a pessimist!’ said Gemma. ‘But yes, do come, please.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Beth was won over by their enthusiasm. ‘I will.’

  It was a balmy night now the rain had cleared, so after dinner they went outside to admire the view from the back of the diner. You could hear the sound of the waves as the North Sea crashed against the rocks far below. Black peered down at them and said, ‘You are insured, right? In case of erosion.’

  ‘Very funny,’ said Adam, and they moved closer to the edge. Gemma hung back and chatted to Beth as they walked round the rest of the site.

  ‘It’s starting to feel very real,’ she said.

  ‘How long have you been working on it?’

  ‘Oh, ages. We’ve dreamed about it since we first met, pretty much. Now, that dream is close to coming true, and I should feel excited but, actually, I’m completely terrified in case it bombs.’

  ‘It’ll do really well.’

  ‘God, I hope so,’ said Gemma. ‘What about you? Did you always want to be a police officer?’

  ‘Not always,’ admitted Beth. ‘But when I graduated I realized I didn’t like the idea of an office job. I think I wanted …’ She wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.

  ‘To make a difference?’

  ‘Maybe. I don’t know. God, I sound like an airhead.’

  ‘You can’t be if you made it through college and now you’re a detective. Your folks must be proud.’

  ‘Not really.’

  Gemma clasped her hand to her mouth. ‘Please tell me you have parents!’ She meant she would be mortified if they were dead.

  ‘One of each,’ said Beth, ‘I just meant they’re not too happy I’m in the police.’

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Mum worries I might be killed in the line of duty. She reads the newspaper and frets. For Dad, it’s different. He’s opposed to it ideologically.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah. He’s a politics lecturer and has always thought the police were a politically motivated tool of the right used to suppress the working classes.’ She shook her head at this idiocy. ‘Though he still called them when we were burgled, funnily enough.’

  ‘Disowned you, has he?’

  ‘Not quite, but when I see them I don’t talk about work.’

  ‘That’s a shame. Do you enjoy the job?’ Beth nodded. ‘And what about working with Lucas?’

  How could she answer that one honestly? For a moment Beth wondered what her father would have made of Lucas Black. The former army man would be the personification of everything her dad loathed about the force. Beth herself still hadn’t worked the man out. Clearly, he was human, he had at least two friends and was well thought of by them, but how could she reconcile that with him having killed a man? She wanted to answer Gemma’s question about Lucas with some of her own, but that might not end well. Gemma would obviously be on
his side and might take exception to being questioned, so Beth chickened out. ‘It’s great,’ she said, with as much enthusiasm as she could fake.

  ‘Really?’ Gemma sounded surprised. ‘I hated him at first.’ And they both laughed in shock at this admission. ‘I did. I thought he was a huge grump and, when he wasn’t all moody, he was basically silent.’

  ‘I get that a lot,’ said Beth.

  ‘It takes a while to get to know him. He’s been treated pretty poorly in the past.’ And when Beth said nothing, she went on, ‘By his ex and the job.’

  ‘Were he and Adam in the army together?’ Beth jerked her head towards the two men, who were deep in conversation and walking surprisingly close to the cliff edge.

  Gemma laughed. ‘God, no. Adam wouldn’t last five minutes in the army. They played five-a-side football together and used to get a beer afterwards. It was months before Adam even found out Lucas was a detective. I don’t think he trusts many people.’ Gemma seemed to care about Black’s well-being. ‘Lucas has too much time to sit on his own thinking about how things should have worked out. He’s been a great friend to Adam and me, though. Those jukebox records,’ she said. ‘Just perfect, and I don’t know anyone else who would have gone to the trouble to get them but made out it was no trouble at all.’

  ‘Then, thanks to you, I’ve seen his good side,’ said Beth.

  ‘He does have one.’ Gemma grinned. ‘He just keeps it well hidden.’

  The Journal of Alice Teale

  Ever been close to the edge of a cliff or the top of a tall building and had a sudden urge to throw yourself off it, knowing you could end it all in only a few seconds? I have.

  Haven’t we all?

  The French have a phrase for it (Quelle surprise!). They call it l’appel du vide, which means ‘the call of the void’.

  I sometimes feel the void is beckoning me. Late at night, when I think about cutting myself and actually go so far as to take a knife from the kitchen; one of the long ones with a serrated blade. I lie on my bed, roll up my sleeve and press the teeth of the knife right next to the skin, then I wonder what it would feel like to draw that knife across my arm. I contemplate the deep wound it would make and how dark the blood would be, whether it would seep or pump out and if the pain would be enough to blot out everything else I am feeling. I don’t want to feel anything any more, because it’s all too much.