When I Find You

by Emma Curtis

  ‘No, I will not be quiet,’ a woman yells.

  Rebecca recognizes her but can’t immediately place her. Then she realizes that she is Laura’s mother. Her face has been on the news. Graham is trying to calm her down. Some of the staff are standing, some swivelled round on their chairs to watch, and some are doing their best to pretend it isn’t happening. Rebecca walks forward quickly, puts her hand on Graham’s shoulder and moves him out of the way. It’s time to take the heat out of the situation.

  ‘It’s Jenny Maguire, isn’t it?’ she says. ‘My name is Rebecca Munro and I’m one of the partners here. Why don’t you come into my office and tell me what this is all about?’

  The woman stares at Rebecca and her chin quivers. Rebecca smiles kindly at her. ‘Come on.’

  ‘I want to know who did it,’ she says, standing her ground. ‘I want to know which one of them raped my daughter.’

  Rebecca’s mouth hangs open, but she gathers herself quickly and gently guides her into her office. She shuts the door and leans against it.

  Jenny paces like an angry cat. She is beyond furious, beyond being reasoned with. Rebecca uses the same tack she uses on David, allowing her anger to wear itself out before intervening. Once she’s calm, Rebecca persuades her to sit down. Jenny puts her head in her hands.

  ‘Why don’t you start from the beginning?’ Rebecca suggests. ‘Tell me what it is you think you know.’

  She feels she ought to offer her a glass of water at least, but she doesn’t want to lose the opportunity. If she’s accusing a member of Rebecca’s staff of something as appalling as rape she wants to know why and where she got her information.

  Jenny’s fingers are in her hair, her face hidden by the palms of her hands. Rebecca can barely hear and has to crouch at her side.

  ‘My daughter is involved in research into her condition at Southampton University. She told the professor there that she was raped by a colleague after your Christmas party.’ She takes her hands away and presents Rebecca with her tear-stained face. ‘It’s too much of a coincidence. Whoever did that, he must have taken her. The police found a threatening letter in her flat. Anonymous, of course.’

  Rebecca doesn’t know what to say. ‘And the professor didn’t have a name? Laura didn’t tell her?’

  ‘No.’ The energy has left her voice. ‘They’ll be here soon.’

  ‘Who?’ She imagines the researchers from Southampton.

  ‘The police. I’m surprised they’re not here already.’

  Right on cue, sirens wail. Rebecca gets to the window in time to see three police cars turn into Percy Row and swoop into the kerb. Car doors slam. She counts nine officers, all in uniform. She peers at the tops of their heads and recognizes Logan’s neat side parting as they gather outside the door, then in they barge, like a marauding army.

  ‘Stay here,’ she says.

  She hurries to the stairwell, where she greets Logan while the rest of his officers cluster behind him. Three of them are carrying hard black cases.

  ‘I have a warrant to search the premises,’ Logan says. ‘We’ll be asking for DNA samples from all the men. This is voluntary, but obviously we’ll be interested in anyone who refuses. I’d like a list of every man in the building, as quickly as possible, and a list of who was at the staff Christmas party at Hoxton 101 on the twenty-second of December last year. We also need access to computer passwords.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m confused. What’s Laura’s disappearance got to do with the Christmas party?’

  ‘It’s another line of enquiry.’

  ‘Right. Well, whatever you need. Just ask. There may not be a definitive list of who was there, but we’ll do what we can.’

  This is what it must be like to be hit by a wave. You know instinctively that there is no point querying, that the only way of surviving is to dive in. Agnes prints out the lists and hands them to Logan. He scans them quickly. Rebecca wonders if he’s looking for anyone in particular.

  ‘David Gunner around?’ he says, glancing up at her.

  ‘No, he’s out this morning. Family matters.’ Why are they so interested in David? It must be because of the argument Bettina witnessed.

  ‘A man fitting his description was seen getting into a black car with a woman who appeared to be drunk.’

  She shakes her head. She can’t keep up. ‘Are we talking Christmas or last Thursday night?’

  ‘Thursday.’

  ‘Thank you for clearing that up.’ She shrugs when he raises an eyebrow at her sarcasm. ‘David was at home.’

  ‘You know that for sure?’

  ‘Well, no,’ she admits. She had texted him but that proved nothing.

  ‘I see.’ Logan walks away, speaking into his phone. From what she can make out of the conversation, he’s dispatching someone directly to Constable Lane.

  ‘He won’t be there.’ She speaks loudly enough so that he can hear her voice above his conversation. ‘He’s staying with his grandparents. I’ll write down the address for you. He may be out though, he told me he was settling them into a care home today.’

  She fumbles around the closest desk, trying to lay her hands on something to write with until Finn, helpfully, passes her a scrap of paper and a biro. Bettina is close by, wringing her hands. Rebecca is finding her need to be at the centre of everything increasingly irritating. Laura was a much quieter presence. She appreciates that now.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jenny says. ‘I shouldn’t have barged in here like that.’

  ‘Don’t apologize. You were only doing what any mother would.’

  Rebecca thinks about the child inside her, tiny and fragile, the size of a kidney bean. Her need to protect it is frightening. She tries to think of something to tell Jenny about Laura, something that will make her happy. But Laura wasn’t particularly happy herself, so it’s hard.

  ‘I didn’t want her to go,’ she says. ‘I was hoping she and David would both change their minds. It was over such a silly thing; a mountain out of a molehill. I’m fond of your daughter. She was a lovely person as well as a great employee.’

  ‘Thank you for saying that.’

  Rebecca pauses, feeling oddly inadequate in the face of this woman’s anger and fear. ‘Do you really believe it was someone from here?’

  ‘It was someone at the party, so yes, I do. Did you see her with anyone?’ There is desperation in her voice as well as sorrow.

  ‘I went home early. I had a migraine.’

  She should tell the police that Laura and Jamie Buchanan had seemed completely absorbed in each other that night, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to share that with her distraught mother.

  ‘Well, they’ll find him now. They’ve been taking DNA samples from her bed and her bathroom. Whoever he was, he’ll have left something.’

  Rebecca places her hand on Jenny’s arm, wanting to help her manage her expectations. ‘It’s been almost two months. She’ll have washed her bedclothes several times since then. You mustn’t get your hopes up.’

  ‘What else is there to do?’

  ‘Do you recognize this man?’ Logan asks, handing Rebecca a sheet of paper with a photograph on it.

  She nods and gives it back. ‘I’ve already been shown this. It’s her neighbour’s husband. He doesn’t work here though, so he wouldn’t have been there.’

  ‘Have you ever seen him before last Thursday night?’

  ‘No. I’ve never seen him before in my life.’

  ‘I have,’ Bettina says. ‘He’s the guy from the taxi.’

  ‘We know that, Bettina.’ Honestly. ‘The detective wants to know if we’ve seen him before last Thursday.’

  Bettina shoots her a defiant look. ‘I’m not daft. I wasn’t talking about last week, I meant after the Christmas party. She went off with him.’

  ‘Say that again.’ Logan’s eyes laser into Bettina’s.

  She speaks slowly, as if she thinks the lot of them are dim. ‘I saw that man’ – she taps his image with her forefinger – ‘le
aving with Laura on the night of the staff Christmas party. He was holding her round her waist, supporting her.’

  ‘Can you swear to that?’

  She shrugs. ‘Well, I was drunk, but I don’t think I’m wrong. I have a good memory for faces.’

  ‘Why haven’t you said anything before now?’

  ‘I forgot.’

  Logan rolls his eyes as he turns away, his phone to his ear. He strides towards the door, speaking urgently. ‘Change of plan. Forget David Gunner. Can you pick up Elliot Hill from his place of work? Get his car impounded as well. I want forensics all over it. I’ll meet you back at the station.’

  50

  Rebecca

  NO RESPONSE FROM David. That’s odd and highly unsatisfactory. Rebecca hopes he isn’t deliberately ignoring her calls but suspects he may be. She needs to at least warn him about what Logan said, even though the detective is more interested in Elliot now.

  Bettina brings her a gluten-free wrap, relieved of its packaging and laid on a white plate with a paper napkin, while Rebecca takes a call from the public relations chief at a Norwegian furniture retailer and sets up a meeting in Oslo. She asks Agnes to organize her travel arrangements, and once that’s done she sits twiddling her thumbs.

  Eddie pops his head in and she nods, signalling him to come in.

  ‘Is it true they’re going to arrest Laura’s neighbour?’

  ‘If you’ve been talking to Bettina, then you know as much as I do.’

  ‘What a creep. They’ll find her now that they’ve got him. It’s only a matter of time.’

  ‘I’m sure they will.’

  He scratches at his beard. ‘What the hell’s he done with her?’

  ‘Eddie, I don’t know.’ She understands from the surprised look on his face that the question was rhetorical, but it still winds her up. ‘Look, you’re worried about her – we all are – but we can’t do anything. Now, I need to get on, if you don’t mind.’

  She is not the type people confide in. She leaves that to the likes of Agnes. She only cares about the baby, and herself. Everyone else is a disappointment. Even David. Most of all David.

  Across the way, in the building next to the car park, workmen have been drilling for the last half hour. Rebecca leans back in her chair then gets up and goes to the window, as if she could stop the racket just by glaring at them. She leaves the room. The relative noisiness of the media floor lessens the impact of the drill. For something to do, she wanders over to the coffee machine and selects one of the capsules. She looks at the machine and frowns. She has never used it before – someone usually does it for her – and it’s beyond complicated. The water reservoir is full, but she has no idea where to put the capsule, let alone what to do once she’s accomplished that.

  Jamie wanders over. ‘Do you need a hand?’

  She smiles and moves aside. ‘Do you mind? I’m completely clueless.’

  ‘No problem.’

  She tries to concentrate on what he’s doing, so that she can remember for next time. Lift the lid and pop the capsule in without peeling its top off. Press the button at the side.

  Jamie’s hands are shaking. She watches them then raises her eyes to his face. There are dark shadows under his eyes and his mouth is a thin line, as if he’s tensing the muscles around his lips. It strikes her that she was wrong, that he’s in love with Laura. But if that was the case, what was he doing messing around with Bettina? Trying to make her jealous?

  ‘They’ll find her.’

  ‘Will they?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admits. ‘I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. You like her, don’t you?’

  He shrugs. ‘I don’t think it’s reciprocated.’

  ‘That’s tough.’

  She’d make a useless agony aunt. Felicity would have known what to say, how to make him feel better. Felicity has that manner about her, something that says, confide in me, let me share your burden, your pain. Rebecca’s manner is of the pull-your-socks-up variety.

  ‘I feel so ruddy useless,’ he says. ‘But I wouldn’t know where to start looking. We went on a date and she told me about her condition. She told me you’re the only one who knows.’

  Rebecca nods.

  ‘That’s what’s so terrifying. That some bastard—’

  ‘Don’t think about it, Jamie. It won’t do any good. The police are doing all they can. We’ve just got to wait and be here in case they need us.’

  Jamie pours the frothed milk into her cup and adds a generous sprinkle of chocolate before she can tell him not to. He hands her the coffee, and she waits while he makes his own. This situation, she realizes, is bringing something new out in them all. She likes Jamie, but he’s only ever been an employee. Now things have changed, people she kept at a distance have come closer. She feels more invested in their lives. It could be the baby hormones making her uncharacteristically maternal, or it could be this horrible situation.

  ‘What happened on your date?’ she asks. ‘I don’t mean to pry, but you don’t appear to be together. If you were, you’d have told the police, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Of course.’ He gives her a rueful smile. ‘But I messed up. I rushed things and she bolted.’

  ‘Do the police know about that?’

  ‘Yeah. I told them. They’ve had a good poke around my flat.’

  ‘Ah.’ She sighs. ‘Well, hopefully you’ll get another chance. Hopefully we all will.’

  ‘Is David not coming in at all today?’

  ‘He doesn’t appear to be.’ Her manner is quelling. She understands that people are curious and worried, but she wishes they’d stop looking to her for answers.

  ‘He reminds me of my father.’

  She sighs. ‘I doubt he’d appreciate that.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean … No, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about recently. He’s been a bit off for the last few weeks. Dad was like that before his nervous breakdown.’

  ‘David is your boss,’ she reminds him. ‘This conversation is inappropriate.’ He is annoying her now.

  Jamie is undaunted. ‘I know, and I’m sorry. But I’m concerned. You may not have noticed, because you …’ He hesitates. ‘Er, work so closely together.’

  How dare he allude, even obliquely, to their affair? Her sympathy for him is fast ebbing away.

  ‘David has a lot going on right now; on a personal level. But he’ll be fine when everything quietens down.’

  Jamie shrugs. ‘Still, I wouldn’t rule it out. All the signs are there: shorter fuse, high stress levels, anxiety.’

  ‘Yes, all right. Message received.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jamie says. ‘It’s none of my business.’

  Perhaps she’s been too sharp. She smiles reassuringly at him; she is his boss, after all. It’s important everyone here feels that the company is being managed well, that their jobs aren’t at risk. ‘I don’t think there’s much wrong with David. He’s a little tired perhaps, and has one or two problems at home, but he’ll be at work tomorrow.’

  Back in her office, she chews at her bottom lip. If David’s issues are having an effect on the staff, if they’re beginning to talk, then Gunner Munro could be in trouble. Once upon a time she would have said that David’s ego was too big to allow him to nosedive, but she knows this is no longer the case. It makes no sense to her; other men have left their wives, other men have had to deal with the deteriorating mental health of their loved ones, other men run successful companies. In fact, they are often the ones who get divorced, who have the financial problems, whose storms are more turbulent and harder to weather than other people’s. That is what success means. That’s why it’s only the ruthless and truly driven who survive. She thought that was who David was.

  One problem has already been solved, with Tony and Georgie comfortably settled in a smart care home, for the time-being at least. She’ll be at his side, willing to help when the inevitable happens and they’re asked to leave. He can’t count on Felicity for tha
t. Rebecca doesn’t believe he was serious about ending their relationship. He’ll be back once he gets bored with domesticity. It’ll be OK. It has to be, for their baby’s sake.

  The drilling suddenly stops, leaving a silence so profound it stuns her. The skies are darkening and there’s an ominous yellow tinge to the charcoal clouds. The first drop of rain hits her window. Out of the blue she wonders, what exactly did David do after the Christmas party? No one can vouch for him.

  She tries to settle, but it’s impossible now. She tries his phone again but gets no answer. She could stay put and wait, but she’s not sure she’s capable. She has a sixth sense when it comes to David.

  A few years ago, he went skiing and broke his leg. He was lucky not to have broken his neck. She had felt something, had been so sure that he was in trouble that she had called him. He didn’t pick up, so she had waited for as long as she could bear it, then called Felicity, making some excuse about needing David to answer a question for work. He was being stretchered into the hospital by then and when Felicity told her that it had happened half an hour earlier, Rebecca had tingled all over. She could pinpoint the exact moment.

  Apart from that, David never ignores his mobile. The fact that he has done rings alarm bells.

  Should she go? He asked her what she would do if she knew he’d done something bad. This is what is at the root of it, the unknown thing that’s playing havoc with his mental stability. Whatever it is, she’ll stand by him; she won’t let him down. She looks at her watch. The traffic through north London should be relatively light. A taxi could get her there in an hour and a half. Anything is better than sitting here worrying.

  51

  Laura

  I’M FLOATING ON a fluffy cloud of drugs, somewhere between fear and oblivion, my vision blurred, my reflexes fuzzy, my mouth as dry as sand. Every so often adrenaline spurts through me, briefly carrying my mind to the surface, and my eyes open wide as I remember what’s happening, and then down I swoop again, into the medicinal embrace, the weight of it wrapping around me like a blanket.