“What was this friend like?” Suki asked.
Nick shrugged. “Not sure, really. That’s all I know.”
“Shall I—” Adrian stood as though ready to take the plates, but Fran ushered for him to sit down.
“Let’s enjoy our wine a little longer before the main, darling.” Fran’s smile twitched. This was the part she needed to know. The names. How was she going to get that out of Nick? “You know, I’ve been a bit worried about the Whitakers since they left. That little girl of theirs ran away from home twice.”
“Oh, that’s terrible,” Suki said.
Nick added in, “Yes, it was awful,” before taking another sip of wine.
“I’ve been thinking of trying to track them down, just to check she’s okay.”
“You’ll have a time of it,” Nick said. “They’re more than likely back in Arizona by now. What a god-awful place to live. Hot and dusty.”
Fran glanced at Adrian, giving him the signal to clear the plates. She needed to leave it there and then come back to the conversation at a later moment. The evening had to breathe. She helped Adrian rinse the starter plates as Suki and Nick continued to flirt in the dining room. Then they swooped back in with sashimi, maki and katsu curry with rice. Suki clapped her hands together in excitement, gushing over the array of food.
“Where did you get this delicious fish?” She ate her food like Nigella cooks, tilting her head back to devour it, licking her fingers as she made yummy noises. Nick practically drooled into his wine.
By the time the main was over, Nick was definitely sloshed. He had started touching Suki’s arm, his thumb grazing her pale skin. Both Fran and Adrian cringed, leaving the room with the dinner plates, giggling about their matchmaking as they scraped leftover rice into the kitchen bin.
On their return with platters of fresh fruit and a jug of cream, Suki turned the subject back to the Whitakers.
“I think Fran’s right about that family. It’s sad to think of the troubled child.”
Nick’s head bobbed up and down.
Fran decided to add in, “Especially the way the little girl kept running away from home. It always felt as though they needed extra support, you know?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Adrian roll his eyes.
“Poor child,” Suki said. “Fran, you’re such a lovely person to care for them. Do you know what I would find incredibly compassionate and caring? Which, by the way, is a total turn on for me.”
Fran glanced at her husband; eyes open wide.
“What?” Nick asked, slurring slightly.
“If you helped Fran find that friend of theirs. I mean, you must have their name on a file somewhere, right?”
“We do,” he said.
She nudged her chair closer to his and placed her hand on his arm. “These are extraordinary circumstances, don’t you think? Anyone helping that child, well, they’d be a hero.”
He trailed a finger down her cheek, Fran tried to keep down her fish. “Do you like heroes?”
“Oh yes.”
Nick took his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll text my assistant now. She’ll send me the names tomorrow morning.”
Suki squealed. “You’re amazing.”
He glowed under Fran’s dining room lights.
Chapter Forty
Morning, babe. Guess who sent me those names? He came through for us. Not a bad lover either. Looking forward to your next sleuthing dinner party. Stay safe, won’t you? It sounds like this Elijah Whitaker fellow is a bad egg. Suki xx Fran made a note of the name in Suki’s follow up text message before pouring her morning coffee. It was around 10:00 a.m. and Adrian was in the garden trimming the hedges. She rubbed tired eyes. Sometime after midnight last night, she and Suki had gone into the garden while Adrian was helping Nick sober up in the kitchen. Spread out on their garden furniture, with shoes kicked off and shawls drawn over shoulders, they chatted while foxes screeched their mating calls in the distance.
“Are you sure about all this, Fran? Finding this family, I mean,” she’d said. “You could be stepping into dangerous territory, you know. That kind of controlling man hates to be backed into a corner. They lash out.” Suki had passed her a joint, blowing smoke into the night sky. Fran had smiled to herself, imagining the gossip at choir practice if they knew she was smoking marijuana.
“I have to,” Fran replied. That was the simple answer in her mind all the time. Yes, she had moments of doubt, but there was no getting out of it, this was an impulse she could not ignore. “I don’t think they have anyone else.”
“And Adrian’s okay with it?”
Fran pulled the smoke into her lungs, smothering a cough. She exhaled. “He wasn’t at first, but I think he’s starting to come around. He cooked everything tonight and went along with the plan. He’s being a sweetheart as always.”
Suki took the joint back and pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulder. “He is a sweetheart.” She paused. “Most of the time anyway.”
“Most of the time?”
Suki waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, nothing.”
“Tell!”
“He cheated on me; you know. And his first wife.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.” Suki lifted her hands as she raised her voice. “Sophie caught him in the act, I’m afraid. And I found evidence. Let’s leave it at that. But he’s a changed man with you.”
Fran leaned back against the wooden furniture. “I can’t imagine Adrian cheating on anyone.”
“Like I said, he’s a different man now. Back then his head was turned relatively easily by the pretty young things on campus.” She rolled her eyes. “Every year there’d be one student. You know the type. Short skirts and daddy issues.”
Fran’s stomach churned. “He slept with his students?”
“He was your cliched horny professor, I’m afraid. Handsome bastard, too. Plus he had that slight accent from studying at Harvard for three years.”
Fran sighed. “I wish I’d known him back then. I can’t picture it.”
“Well he’s not like that now. He wants an easy life. He wants you to be happy, but when it comes down to it, he wants an easy, untroubled life. Gardening in the day, reading in the evenings, a glass of red and an early night.” Suki shrugged.
Fran lifted one eyebrow and almost laughed. “That’s the Adrian I know.”
“Jesus, look at your face. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned anything. This was all years and years ago.”
“I know.” Fran tried to smile. “He’s still the mild-mannered Adrian I know, right?”
She let out a quick laugh. “Of course! You two are great together. Look, be careful, won’t you? I don’t want to overstep, but I hope you can see that what you’re doing is as much for yourself as for the child.”
Fran waggled her fingers towards the spliff until Suki handed it over. Her second toke was easier than the first. A sense of relaxation spread through her muscles, chasing away the unease laid by Suki’s tales of infidelity. “Yeah, I know. Everyone keeps pointing it out to me. Adrian. Random busybodies in the village. Now you.” She rolled her eyes, but half in jest.
“In case I never said it, because I don’t think I did, I’m so sorry about Chloe. What happened to you both was just awful.”
Fran felt her body crumple inwards. Her facial muscles twitched as she tried to keep her emotions under control. “Thanks. I know.”
The men had come back out of the house then—Nick revived by coffee—and the party had soon fizzled out.
Now, Fran stared at the name she’d written in biro. Next to it was an address. Noah Martinez. He lived in Derby, like Mary had told her, but he didn’t seem to be related to Elijah, not judging by the surnames anyway. Plus, Nick had referred to him as a friend rather than family. She folded up the paper and placed it in her back pocket. Her head was throbbing. She’d woken up at 5:00 a.m., not with the desire to go for her run, but with the urge to be sick. Som
ehow she’d managed to creep to the downstairs toilet and retch up her insides before Adrian found out. Then she slipped back into bed and succumbed to a shivering paranoia that engulfed her thoughts until it was time to get up. And what had she learned from those paranoid thoughts? That she was afraid what she’d discover once she tracked down the Whitakers. That she now felt like she didn’t know her husband.
Worst of all. What if she spent all this time searching for the Whitakers just to find them safe and happy? It wasn’t that she hoped for their suffering, more that she didn’t want to be proven obsessive. But most of all, it’d prove that they don’t need her.
Fran went out into the garden to tell Adrian she was off for the afternoon. She put on her sunglasses to protect her eyes from the sunny day and climbed into her car.
Chapter Forty-One
Fran used the Sat Nav to get there. It wasn’t a long journey, but the transition from village to city was jarring. She found herself frustrated by drivers, confused by one-way systems and stuck inside her car waiting for traffic lights to change. There was still a dull ache at the back of her skull, the paracetamol not quite touching her hangover.
Finally, she approached the city centre apartment, but the building was right on a main road with no parking. After another ten minutes of driving around, she found a multi-story carpark nearby and squeezed into a tight space between a concrete pillar and a Corsa. Sucking in her stomach, she about made it out of the car and down the many flights of stairs to get out. The city smelled like hot bins and exhaust fumes.
It was a scorching day, and the tops of her thighs—the bits that not even her morning runs could reach—chafed as she hurried to the correct address. She longed to be wearing shorts and resented her decision to throw on a maxi dress that morning.
She hadn’t phoned ahead. Perhaps Noah worked at the weekend or had gone to the seaside to enjoy the sun. Or perhaps she’d get lucky and find Elijah’s so-called friend ready and willing to tell her everything she needed to know.
Fran stood outside the apartment block above a Game Stop and searched the panel for the correct flat number. She pressed the buzzer and waited for an answer. There was no response. She pressed it again.
“Hey, are you visiting someone?” asked a voice behind her.
Fran turned around to find a young woman about eighteen or nineteen smiling at her. Even though she was dressed in a strappy top and shorts, there was still a sheen of sweat over her shoulders and forearms.
“I am actually. Noah Martinez? He lives in flat C.”
“Oh yeah, I know Noah. I’ll let you in if you like, but I think he might’ve gone on holiday. I haven’t seen him for a few days.”
“Thanks so much, that would be great,” Fran said.
She used a swipe card to open the door. “It’s just one floor if you don’t fancy the lift. I wouldn’t if I were you. It breaks down every month.” Her sandals slapped against the steps as she made her way up the staircase.
“Thanks for the tip.”
Fran followed her up the stairs, musing that the place reminded her of the stairwells in a department store or multi-storey carpark, not a home. She couldn’t imagine living in the heart of a city, even a relatively small city like Derby. The atmosphere was suffocating. She was glad for her cropped hair in the unbearably hot building. Still, she had to wipe the sweat from her forehead when she approached the flat door. She wasn’t holding out much hope at this point after hearing from Noah’s neighbour, but she rapped loudly on the door regardless.
Noah’s neighbour lived in flat B across the hallway and turned to smile as she entered her apartment. Fran waited but there was no response. She decided to try one more time, knocking so loudly that her knuckles hurt. Still nothing.
Fran was about to turn and leave when she heard a scratch on the other side of the door. She bent down, listening. There it was again, a scratch. This time it sounded more urgent. A moment later she heard meowing.
“Hi, kitty,” Fran said.
The cat responded with a yowl, followed by more scratching. Frantic scratching, she thought.
Fran turned and stared at flat B. Noah’s neighbour had mentioned not seeing him for a few days, and yet the cat was inside, and sounded as though it was in some distress. She listened to its meowing and scratching for another moment, trying to decide what to do. She walked over to flat B and knocked.
When the door opened, the woman seemed confused to see Fran standing there.
“Sorry to bother you,” Fran said. “You mentioned that you hadn’t seen Noah for a few days. The thing is, I can hear Noah’s cat on the other side of the door and now I’m a bit concerned.”
“Really?” She opened the door wider and stepped into the corridor. “Huh. I don’t think Noah would go away and leave his cat alone.” The young woman frowned as she listened to the sound of loud meowing.
“Do you have a spare key?” Fran suggested. “The cat sounds distressed.”
“I don’t,” she said. “But there’s an office downstairs. Someone there might be able to help.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“I’m Fran by the way. Sorry to cause you such a bother.”
“Naomi. It’s okay. To be honest I’m glad you came. There’s no way Noah would go away and leave his cat like that.” She brushed the thin strands of her fringe from her eyes as they reached the ground floor. “In fact, none of this is like him. He’s pretty quiet. We always end up leaving for work at the same time every morning. Otherwise I wouldn’t even know his name. But one thing I do know, is that this is his first time away. I remember this one week when he was sick, but apart from that every morning at 8:00 a.m. he walks down the stairs and I do too.” She smiled shyly. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”
Fran returned the smile. “You’re not, don’t worry. Do you remember a family living with him for a while? A young woman called Mary, her husband Elijah and their seven-year-old, Esther?”
“Yes,” she said, as they started down one more level into the basement. “Now that was a strange set up. I don’t know who they were, but they were odd. The girl in particular.”
“Esther?”
“Yeah. Weird kid. Once made a disapproving scoffing sound about my shorts. I’ve never wanted to slap a child before.”
“They’re very religious,” Fran said. “I think Esther is just picking up on the things she’s been taught.”
“Yeah, I got that impression. I was just kidding about the slapping part.” She let out a nervous giggle.
“That’s okay, I’ve had the same thought,” Fran confessed. “What about Noah, is he religious too?”
As they walked down a bright corridor, Naomi wrapped her arms around her torso as though for warmth. “Honestly? I don’t know.” She glanced sideways at Fran, as though only now wondering why she was there. “Aren’t you a friend of Noah’s?” They reached a door marked “building management” and she knocked.
“Actually, I’ve never met him. I know the family who lived with him.”
“Okay.” She sounded confused.
“The family went missing a few weeks ago. I was hoping he might know where they’ve gone.”
“Oh, wow.”
The door opened and a stout man wearing a polo shirt answered. He had curly ginger hair and a bright red nose.
“Can I help you?”
Naomi took the lead. “I live in Flat B. This lady came to see Noah in Flat C but he’s not answering, and something seems off. I haven’t seen him for days, but his cat is in the flat on its own and…” She trailed off, and Fran could see her conviction fading.
“We’re worried something might have happened to him,” Fran added.
“Have either of you contacted a family member?” asked the manager.
“We don’t know any. Can you just open the door?”
He frowned and shoved his hands into his khaki trouser pockets. “I’m not supposed to. Unless it’s an emergency.”
Fran bit her bottom lip. Her head
had started to throb again. “We believe it is an emergency. There’s an animal in distress inside the flat.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Naomi added. “The poor thing is scratching at the door.”
“Let me find the keys,” he said, disappearing back into his office. A moment later, he re-emerged with a couple of keys on a ring with a plastic fob. He turned back and locked his office before striding up the corridor. Fran thought of getting all the way back up to the first floor and dreaded it. Her hungover muscles ached as she tried to keep up with the manager. It was a relief to see him head straight to the lifts.
“You girls had better not get me in trouble,” he said as they stepped into the chamber. The three of them filled the tiny space, all of them pulling their arms close to their body to avoid unnecessary skin contact.
Fran bit her tongue against being called a “girl”. Naomi, however, let her frustration show.
“You’ll be in more trouble if something bad is going on in that flat,” she snapped.
The man gave her a sharp look and let out an exasperated sigh. When the lift arrived at floor one, and the doors opened with a frankly terrifying rattle, he opened his arm in an exaggerated gesture, allowing Naomi out first. Fran followed them both from behind, feeling awkwardly responsible for this turn of events.
As soon as they reached Noah Martinez’s apartment, the hair lifted on the backs of her arms. The cat was still at the door, scratching and meowing, its yowling more frantic than before.
“Jesus,” he said. “That thing sounds rabid!”
“I’m sure it’s just scared,” Naomi said. “I’ve got some cooked chicken in the fridge. I’ll go and get it.”
She went into her flat for a moment, while the manager unlocked the door. We both waited for Naomi to come back with a plate of cut up chicken pieces. When she was ready she nodded at the door for the manager to open it.
A slip of black fur burst from the door as it opened. Naomi put the plate down and talked soothingly to the agitated cat. It began eating right away, between thunderous, anxious purrs.
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