Journey to Death

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Journey to Death Page 10

by Leigh Russell


  ‘. . . An Englishman . . . Yes, a call from Beau Vallon. The wife’s done a runner . . .’

  Lucy interrupted angrily. ‘My mother hasn’t run off, she’s gone missing.’

  A few moments later a tall dark-skinned officer joined them. Inspector Henri asked them to follow him across an open courtyard into a different building. They followed him up several flights of stone stairs into a small office with three polished wooden desks. When they were seated, the inspector confirmed he had received a report from a regional police station.

  ‘You say she’s been missing overnight, no more than twelve hours?’

  ‘Well, it’s anything from twelve to twenty-four hours.’

  The policeman glanced up from his notes. ‘You can’t say how long your wife’s been missing? Forgive me for asking, but was there an argument, sir?’

  ‘No. Look, I took my daughter out for the day yesterday, and when we got back to the hotel, my wife had disappeared. So she could have gone missing as early as yesterday morning, I just don’t know. But either way, she’s missing, and you need to do something about it.’

  The inspector looked from her father to Lucy and back again.

  ‘This is my daughter.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that she looks like you.’

  The inspector turned to Lucy. ‘I hope you are enjoying your stay on Mahé.’

  ‘Look here, Inspector, we came here to report that my wife is missing. The coastguard searched for her last night but there’s no sign of her along the coast or out at sea. We’ve searched the hotel and she’s not there, and she’s not at the hospital, so we’ve come here to report that she’s missing. We want you to find her.’

  The policeman turned back to him. ‘Your wife, indeed yes, sir. So, you reported the incident to your closest regional police station at Beau Vallon, and they passed the message on to us.’

  With a sigh of exasperation, Lucy’s father confirmed that they were staying at the Garden of Eden Hotel and had been to the local police station on their way to Victoria. The policeman consulted his watch.

  ‘Let me see. You made your initial report nearly three hours ago, but your wife has actually been missing overnight. Right.’ He nodded his head, suddenly brisk. ‘We have a description. Tell me again, where was your wife last seen and at what time exactly?’

  He took down a few more details and told them he would set up an immediate search of the area.

  ‘Is there anything we can do?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘Leave it to us. We will conduct an extensive search of the whole island. I assure you the station commander takes such reports very seriously. We are not as sophisticated as the British police force but believe me, sir, if your wife is still on the island, we will find her. Our command centre will circulate a message to all the police stations on the island, and all patrols, and our media office will send out a description to the local radio and television stations. We will do everything possible to find your wife, if she has indeed suffered some misfortune, and not decided to leave the island of her own accord.’ He gave an apologetic shrug. ‘It has happened.’

  ‘Of course she hasn’t—’ Lucy’s father began.

  The inspector raised his hand. ‘In the meantime, let us hope she returns to you soon. Here is my number. Call me immediately if she comes back.’

  Lucy was furious but she kept her outrage to herself until they were back on the street. ‘Who the hell does he think he is, speaking to you like that? How dare he suggest she’s run off and left you!’

  Her father gazed at her helplessly.

  ‘Oh, Dad, this is awful,’ she wailed, losing her grip on her composure and struggling not to cry. ‘What can we do?’

  ‘We press on,’ he replied with forced cheerfulness.

  He turned away too late to hide the sight of his own eyes watering.

  ‘Where to this time?’ she asked, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

  ‘The British High Commission.’

  ‘Good thinking, Dad. At least they should take it seriously when we tell them a British woman’s gone missing.’

  They walked the short distance across the square, past the clock tower. From her father’s descriptions Lucy had imagined it rivalling Big Ben, but it was actually quite small, dwarfed by the buildings around the square. The British High Commission was situated in a tall glass-fronted building, the sky reflected off the mirrored windows of its elegant façade. They climbed the steps and entered the building. Inside, a notice advised them the British High Commission was open 8.30 to 12 Monday to Thursday, with an emergency number. They crossed to the desk where a helpful security man directed them to the third floor. Stepping out of a small mirrored lift, they saw a large well-lit crest displayed on the wall facing them, with a motto ‘Dieu et Mon Droit’.

  ‘I wonder why it’s in French?’ Lucy muttered.

  Her father spoke to a uniformed security guard sitting in a corner by the window, explaining that they had come to see the British High Commissioner. The guard stood up and pressed an intercom beside the lift.

  ‘Tell them who you are,’ he said.

  Lucy followed her father through a set of wooden doors, through another set of black-framed glass doors, to a spacious modern reception area. The atmosphere was quiet and orderly. To their left they could see through two large glass panels into an office. In front of them, comfortable black leather chairs and sofas were arranged around a coffee table. Lucy gazed out of the window at a tall building that obscured the view towards the ocean. On the right a second reception area behind a glass wall gave a clear view of the high forested hills. The little wall space between floor-to-ceiling windows was painted pale beige.

  As Lucy’s father stood hesitating in front of the glass panel, a woman emerged through another door, smiling a welcome. Although very young, she looked smart and professional. As she invited them to sit down, Lucy felt unexpectedly reassured. There was more to Mahé than the exotic and the strange. There was also order and common sense. There had to be if they were to find her mother. The woman introduced herself as the Vice Consul, Maggie. She did not look much older than Lucy.

  ‘The job’s not as grand as the title sounds,’ she added with a short laugh. ‘Now, how can I help you?’

  As soon as Lucy’s father introduced himself and explained the reason for their visit, her demeanour altered. She invited them to accompany her into the office behind the glass wall.

  ‘It’s more discreet in here,’ she explained as she sat behind a desk in the corner. ‘Now,’ she went on, her expression solemn, her voice gentle and agreeable. ‘Have you told the police that your wife has gone missing, or would you like us to notify them?’

  Lucy’s father explained that they had been to the local police station in Beau Vallon, and had just come from the Central Police Station where they had reported the situation in person to Inspector Henri.

  ‘When did you last see your wife?’

  The Vice Consul noted everything down as they went through the details of the disappearance once more. Repetition made the account no easier to hear, and the official’s expression of concern was alarming as well as comforting.

  ‘Now, feel free to contact us at any time,’ Maggie said, when Lucy’s father had finished his recitation. ‘We have a stand-alone computer which you’re welcome to use, and you must let us know if there’s anything else we can do to support you until your wife returns. If you extend your stay we can liaise with your insurance company for you. In the meantime, we’ll be in daily contact with you. I’ll come and see you tomorrow in case you think of anything else we can help you with, and I’ll pass all this on to the High Commissioner. She’s not here today, but she always takes reports of missing persons very seriously.’

  ‘Do people often go missing?’ Lucy asked.

  She held her breath. She did not know if white slave traders still existed, but she had heard stories of Somali pirates in the Indian Ocean, although it seemed hard to believe they could have seized her mothe
r at the Garden of Eden Hotel.

  ‘Yes,’ Maggie replied, ‘but they almost always return after a few days. Coming to the island seems to have that effect on some people, especially women around your mother’s age. Sometimes they go off for longer periods. One woman reappeared safe and sound after she had been missing for nearly three weeks. She’d been on Aldabra, communing with the giant tortoises.’

  Lucy’s father grunted. ‘I can’t see Angela doing that.’

  Listening to her father chatting with the Vice Consul, Lucy felt more worried than ever. There was no way her mother would have run off without telling them. Apart from the fact that she had no reason to do so, she of all people knew that Lucy needed her support right now. She slipped her phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen in case her mother had called. There were no messages.

  16

  ‘SO WHAT DO WE do now?’ her father asked the Vice Consul, who smiled sympathetically.

  ‘As I said, the High Commissioner is away today, but I’ll make sure she’s fully apprised of the situation on her return, and the police will be organising a thorough search. I assure you, they take these incidents very seriously, as we do here. Hopefully they’ll have some good news for us very soon.’

  She smiled at him again.

  ‘And what can we do?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘I suggest you go back to your hotel and wait. I know it’s hard, but there’s really nothing more you can do for now. Let us know if you think of anything else, anywhere she might have gone, anyone she might have been in contact with, and of course we’ll be in touch as soon as we have any news. And do let us know straight away as soon as she turns up.’

  She stood up and held out her hand.

  Neither of them said much on the way back to the hotel. Her father stared at the road ahead. Lucy gazed out of her window at the sea. With nothing more to be done, they shared a sense of misery at the thought of facing the rest of the day without her mother.

  ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t go back to the hotel,’ Lucy ventured.

  She was not sure she could bear to sit by the pool, at the buffet, or in the dining room, or walk on the beach or in the gardens; wherever she went in the hotel she would be expecting to see her mother.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lucy, I’m shattered. We can go out later, eat in Victoria. I know you want to get away from the place, but right now I really need to get back to the room and rest.’

  Lucy understood. It had been an exhausting few hours and she was feeling emotionally drained. She could only imagine how worried her father must be.

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ she said gently.

  ‘And I want to be there when she comes back.’

  Adrian was waiting for them in the lobby when they arrived at the hotel, keen to hear what had happened. After they brought him up to speed, her father excused himself, saying he had to rest. He assured Lucy he would keep his phone at his side in case her mother made contact and would call her the minute he heard anything. In the meantime, he suggested Adrian take her out for the rest of the afternoon.

  ‘Out?’ Lucy repeated, taken aback at the suggestion.

  ‘It would do her good to get away from here for a few hours,’ her father explained.

  When Lucy disagreed, her father insisted he was going to sleep and did not need her for a while. The police were conducting a massive search for Angela, and they had to leave it to them to find her. There was nothing else they could do. While they waited, it would serve no purpose for Lucy to upset herself moping about in the hotel.

  ‘Shouldn’t we at least be out looking for her?’ Lucy asked.

  Adrian shook his head. ‘We could try, but she might be anywhere. My guess is she took a trip to one of the other islands and got stuck there without a phone signal.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘The police will find her soon enough. She’ll probably be here by the time we get back.’

  He offered to drive Lucy to a stunning bay nearby, promising they would not stray far from the hotel. If there was any news they could be back at the Garden of Eden in next to no time.

  ‘And we won’t go swimming,’ he added with a gentle grin that lit up his dark eyes.

  Lucy smiled. She could not deny it would be a relief to get away from the hotel for an hour or two. And although she would never have admitted as much out loud, she would welcome a brief respite from the strain of having to hide her distress from her father. He had enough to handle without witnessing her lose control on top of everything else.

  Adrian took her to a bay similar to others along the breathtakingly beautiful coastline. Like the first one they had visited together this beach was deserted, and they wandered down to the sea and walked for a while in the shallows, cooling their bare feet in the tepid water. Lost in wonder at the scenery, Lucy could almost forget about her mother for a moment. It was hard to believe anything dreadful could happen on such a lovely island. She felt a sensation of release that was almost spiritual.

  ‘Do you believe in God?’ she asked Adrian.

  ‘No, not really. Although it’s hard not to, when you see all this.’

  After a while they went and sat together on the sand and Adrian questioned her about her life in England. She knew he was trying to distract her from thinking about her mother and was grateful for his consideration.

  ‘I studied English at uni,’ she told him. ‘It’s not a particularly useful subject unless you plan to teach, which I don’t, or want to go into publishing which is currently in chaos, or journalism where the future is even more precarious.’

  ‘So what do you do?’

  She shrugged. ‘Just a job, you know. I work in a café, as a waitress.’

  ‘Isn’t that rather a waste of your education?’

  She gave a rueful grin. ‘It would be if that was all I planned to do for the rest of my life, but I hope I’ll find something a bit more challenging to do.’

  ‘Like what?’

  She leaned on one elbow and clawed at the sand with her other hand, watching the grains flow through her fingers like water.

  ‘I don’t know. That’s the problem. If I knew what I wanted to do, I’d get on with it. I met Darren in my first year at uni and I suppose I thought we’d have a family and that seemed to be enough, a future with him. You know how it is.’

  He frowned so that she was uncertain if he understood or not. While she hesitated over whether to ask him, he posed another question.

  ‘Do you want children then?’

  She shrugged again. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I just thought it was something we’d do. Get married. Have a family. Isn’t that what people do?’

  Seeing his anxious expression, she smiled. ‘It’s OK, I’m over him now. That is, I’m getting over him. At least, I think I am. It’s just that I’ve got to rethink my entire life, sort myself out somehow.’

  It was not only her life she had to re-evaluate, but herself. She had always thought of herself as level-headed. She had been shocked at how quickly she had gone to pieces over losing Darren.

  ‘Would you take him back?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good. Clearly he didn’t care for you as much as he led you to believe. Put it behind you and get on with your life. Life’s too short to waste on people who treat you badly.’

  He was the first person who had not trotted out platitudes, telling her she was still very young, she had all her whole life in front of her, and the pain would lessen over time.

  ‘I’m sorry if that sounds harsh,’ he added.

  ‘No, I appreciate your honesty.’

  That was only partly true. It felt liberating, yet at the same time unnerving, to be addressed so bluntly. Unlike Adrian, Darren had always treated her like a child, and naturally her parents did too. Yet her father had turned to her for help now he was in trouble. It was all very confusing. Not wanting to think about herself any more, she turned the focus on Adrian. Although he had enquired about her past, she refrained from probing into his personal life
for fear of implying she was interested in him. Instead she focused on his career.

  ‘Did you always know you wanted to be an accountant?’

  He laughed. ‘It wasn’t exactly a Paul on the road to Damascus revelation, more like what the hell am I going to do to earn a living? Then I had the chance to study in England and decided to make the most of the opportunity, make it count for the future, so I plumped for accountancy. It was a hard slog, I can tell you, but I got there in the end so I guess it was worth it.’

  ‘We’re totally different, aren’t we? I wish I was more like you. Your life sounds so clearly mapped out. You know where you’re going.’

  ‘Not really. It’s just that accountancy seemed like a sensible idea at the time.’

  Lucy nodded. Darren used to scoff at people who were sensible. Playing it safe, he called it, accusing her of being risk averse, as though that was a character flaw.

  ‘Go with the flow,’ he would tell her.

  In retrospect, their relationship had been immature, based on a fear of the future after the cocoon of university. But while they had both been cowardly in clinging on to a spurious sense of security, at least she had been sincere about her commitment to him. She sat up and brushed sand off her legs.

  ‘How did you get to be studying in England?’

  He shrugged. ‘I worked damn hard to get there—’

  ‘What?’ she interrupted him. ‘You wanted to go to England? You’re kidding me.’

  ‘No. It wasn’t that I wanted to leave Mahé,’ he explained, ‘but I wanted to escape the shanty town lifestyle and better myself. I thought that if I could study in England, I’d come back and live like a rich man, have a better life.’

  ‘And is it? A better life?’

  He gazed out at the ocean. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn’t have been better off working behind the bar like Eddy, without all the responsibility and stress. I’d have been just as happy, I guess.’

 

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