Your Guilty Secret

by Rebecca Thornton

  ‘You followed me?’ I moved closer to the front door and I was thinking about how I was going to get rid of him before I walked back. ‘I followed you because . . . wait . . . I’m new to this too.’ He rummaged around in his pocket and I took a step back, my heart going shit-crazy, my thumb hovering over the dial pad of my phone.

  ‘Don’t look so freaked out,’ he laughed. ‘It’s this,’ and he handed me a white business card. ‘Look, lady. I’m no smooth operator. But just hear me out. Or give me a chance, rather. Read the card. Call me. OK? I might be new to all this but I’ve got good instincts. Believe me. I know something when I see it. I know it’s no use asking you for your number now. You look like you think I’m about to do you over. So I have to hope you’ll ring me. Please. It might change your life. I think I can. I think I can change your life.’ He watched me turn the card around in my hands and then turned and walked off, the night mist trailing him into the distance.

  ‘Don’t forget,’ he shouted back at me. ‘I can change your life.’ And then he was gone.

  I read the card, typing his name into Google with the last of my data before my internet was cut off for the month, but nothing came up. Just a picture of an old dude and his dog at Crufts.

  Loser, I thought.

  Both him and me. It was time to go back to my small bedsit. But then I scrolled down and there was a makeshift website.

  Ben Finn.

  Bolt Enterprises.

  Talent Management.

  And then I thought about what he’d said earlier. The competition. Idolz. And then a flash of memory. A segment that I’d seen on Entertainment Now! About a new show launching, called Idolz. That was it. They had been looking for people to audition for the next big thing in pop. Spearheaded by Felix Brandlove. The winner would be the proud recipient of a million-pound recording contract. It all came flooding back to me. I’d remembered sitting in Hannah’s flat, turning up the volume on the telly.

  But I stared at the card again and then I started to hum my song. ‘If only I could. If only I would.’

  Something inside me shifted at that point. I felt lighter, and everything sharpened. Maybe things would change after all. Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe my future was written in the stars and that’s how white-trainers Mr Ben Finn had found me. I had always known I was different. Even when I had been younger.

  The street lights cast their glow. A taxi thundered past, its lights bright and electrifying. Goosebumps raced over my skin and all of a sudden, the world made sense and I started the long journey home. One foot in front of the other. But all of a sudden, I didn’t care.

  This was going to be the start of everything.

  Ryans-world.com

  Entry: August 26th, 1945hrs

  Author: Ryan

  So, guys, big news. Here’s a link to the audio of Lara King’s leaked 911 call. I don’t know how I feel posting it here. It just feels well, wrong. But if it reaches people then that can only be a good thing. For those of you who want to read the full transcript, see below.

  PAPA RAZZLE ONLINE EXCLUSIVE!

  BREAKING NEWS:

  08/26/2018 1800hrs

  214,575 Facebook shares

  675,438 Retweets

  935,885 Comments

  FILED UNDER – AVA KING, LARA KING, MISSING CHILD, 911, POLICE FILES PAPA RAZZLE has managed to obtain the audio of Lara King’s call to the police at midday today, after her daughter Ava went missing.

  911 Call Handler: Hello? What’s your emergency?

  Caller: Hello? (heavy breathing) My daughter. My daughter is missing. I’m in . . . I’m in Laurel Canyon. Send someone. Quick. Please.

  911 Call Handler: Could you tell me your exact location?

  Caller: (Inaudible) Laurel Canyon . . . by . . . (inaudible)

  911 Call Handler: Can you tell me your name please, and give me your number in case we get cut off?

  Caller: Oh God. Hurry. Please. My name’s Lara and my number is . . . Oh God, I can’t think. It’s it’s— (Number redacted)

  911 Call Handler: Lara, can you tell me how long your daughter’s been missing?

  Caller: Ten, fifteen minutes? (heavy breathing) Please. Oh my God. I don’t know. I was on the phone at the time (inaudible). I don’t know. Please (inaudible. Gasping) I don’t know. Please. (Caller starts to scream)

  911 Call Handler: Please, could you try and keep calm so we can locate you.

  Caller: I’m, God, I don’t know.

  911 Call Handler: Can you see any landmarks, anything we can use to locate your whereabouts. I’m dispatching a team out now to Laurel Canyon. Stay on the phone with me so we can pinpoint your location.

  Caller: Ava (caller is screaming at this point), Ava, where are you? Oh God. Please hurry. I drove past a (inaudible) I think.

  911 Call Handler: Which sign?

  Caller: God, I think, I drove from Laurel Canyon Boulevard. We’re here. By . . .

  911 Call Handler: Can you get an exact location from your phone?

  Caller: Hang on, hang on (breathing hard, takes cell away from ear). I’m near a sign. I passed a sign. Highway (inaudible) it says (heavy breathing from caller). Going north towards Laurel Canyon Boulevard. That road. I think.

  911 Call Handler: Great we’ve dispatched someone who will be there shortly. And you say you were on the phone at the time of your daughter’s disappearance? Can you tell me how long you were on the phone – how long you think she’s been missing for? Stay on the line. Stay talking to me. Someone will be there very soon with you.

  Caller: I don’t know. I was on the phone. She asked to get out the car. To go to the toilet. And then when I realised she had been gone for too long I went to look and she wasn’t there (very heavy breathing). I screamed. Screaming (inaudible), Jesus Christ, she’s gone. I heard a car. Someone must have taken her.

  911 Call Handler: OK. It’s OK, stay calm.

  Caller: Tell me you’ll find her. Please. It was just a normal day. Driving. Singing to Katy Perry on the radio. Happy. It was normal. Nothing to indicate . . . (inaudible) from one minute to the next. Here, now (inaudible) gone. Please.

  911 Call Handler: We’ll have someone with you shortly.

  (Sound of a siren in the background.)

  Call goes dead.

  Comments on this section will be moderated.

  #Methree: Oh my. She was on her fucking CELL when her daughter went missing? She presents herself as this perfect mom, but she wasn’t even watching her child? That bitch gonna DIE.

  Meghans_Sparkle: All these celebrities think they can do what they want. She’s probably never looked after her kid in her life despite making billions pretending to do so. Doesn’t deserve to have one. Especially that cute little Ava, who has probably been taken away by some lunatic.

  Blake_Lives4eva: Come on, guys, she took her eye off the ball for one second. I’ve got two little hunnies myself, one boy, one girl, and often I lose concentration. Or answer my cell. Don’t you? Give the girl a break. She might have been answering an important call. She’s an amazing mom. Look at that little girl Ava. Kudos to Lara, she’s raised a beautiful little angel and we should give her credit for that.

  Katy_Perry_No1_Fan: Guys, has no one picked up on the biggest exclusive in this story? Katy Perry! Ava and Lara singing along to Katy Perry! MWAH I FUCKING LOVE YOU, KATY PERRY.

  Here with the latest updates on missing Ava King, brought to you by Lara and Ava King’s number one fan.

  Twitter: @ryan_gosling_wannabe

  August 26th 2018

  1950hrs

  ‘I’m sorry, Ms King.’ I felt the blood drain from my face as Detective Mcgraw rang the landline again. I waved Conor away, so he could deal with the Papa Razzle fallout. ‘I’m really sorry,’ said Detective Mcgraw. ‘We couldn’t stop it. Papa Razzle, they . . .’ I could barely hold the receiver. ‘Look. I’m sorry.’ I felt dizzy, remembering how I’d wanted to scream, waiting for the call to connect after I’d dialed nine-o
ne-one. How careful I’d been not to touch the screen of my mobile with my face, in case the sweat disconnected the emergency call. The way the responder had asked for my phone number. Hurry up, just damn well hurry up, I’d been thinking as I’d looked around the empty landscape for any sign of my daughter. Why is this fucking necessary? But of course, as everyone knows, it was necessary.

  I thought of all the Papa Razzle audio calls I’d listened to myself. Housekeepers calling for paramedics for their famous dying employees and the like. ‘Oh, Ava,’ I said, shutting my eyes. I prayed nothing else would come out.

  ‘Did someone leak it? Someone on your force?’

  ‘That we don’t know, Ms King, but we are looking into it and we’ll do everything we can to resolve it.’

  I felt my heart thud right down to my feet.

  ‘There’s been some positive steps, though,’ said Detective Mcgraw. I heard an intake of breath down the receiver and then realised it was my own.

  ‘We’ve managed to piece together some CCTV. We’re trying to trace the cars around you at that point. But we’ve got some really good clear footage of you and Ava at a red light. You’d stopped on Laurel Canyon Boulevard. The time as stated on the footage is exactly ten a.m., so this footage is your journey from your house to Laurel Canyon fifteen minutes or so after you left for your day out.’ I imagined Ava’s face and curled my hands around the handset. ‘So,’ he continued, ‘this was before she fell asleep. Before you drove around waiting for her to wake up.’

  ‘Oh God. How does she look?’

  ‘She looks, she looks OK, Ms King.’ I thought of what she could have been thinking about. How she’d had that anxious tic in her throat and that I hoped she didn’t have it in the video. I only wanted to see her relaxed and content.

  ‘Can you send me the footage? To my email.’

  ‘Yes, Ms King. We were hoping to release it. With your permission, first, of course. We hope it might trigger someone’s memory.’

  ‘Thank you. As soon as you can.’

  ‘And, Ms King, we’re going to need some more info on the drive that you took when Ava was asleep. The route. We’ve got some footage of you driving around but there’s a lack of CCTV and speed cameras in parts of the canyon so if we can piece together your journey, that would be helpful.’

  ‘Of course.’ I swallowed, thinking back to the day’s events. How long ago it seemed, how time seemed to be stretching, collapsing in on itself. She was six. Surely there was a good chance she was still alive? I shut my eyes. ‘But if I’m not allowed out?’

  ‘We’ve reconstructed your journey so far using Google Maps and our own tracking system – we’ve run your licence plate through the recognition system caught on the cameras so we’ve managed a fair bit but if there are areas you can tell us about, we’d appreciate that. We’re on a really’ – he paused, ‘limited time frame now,’ he said. ‘So if we could go through it now. Over the phone?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said to him. We spent half an hour going through the route I believed I had taken. I tried to piece it together but I could barely type the keys on the board.

  ‘I’m so sorry. Oh God I’m in such a muddle,’ I said. ‘I hope that’s accurate,’ but the more I tried to think back, the more everything seemed hazy, the memories of earlier shrinking like I was watching them through the smaller end of a telescope. I started to feel hysterical.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Detective Mcgraw said. His voice sounded kind then and I felt calmer. Like the information I’d given him had turned out to be useful and I’d gone some way into helping my daughter.

  ‘On the whole it seems to fit.’ His voice sounded far away. I could hear him tapping on his computer. ‘I’ll need to give this to the team. And then I’ll come back to you if we need more.’

  ‘Fine,’ I told him. ‘Anything I can do to help. When will you next be here?’ I tried to keep the neediness out my voice because I really knew that I needed to let the police focus and get on with their job without feeling like they had to look after me, especially given I hadn’t wanted anyone around me. Detective Mcgraw must have read my mind again, though. He seemed to be good at that. Surprising, really, given he could barely look me in the eye.

  ‘I’ve got a briefing with the team in five minutes. I’ll be over after that. As I said to you before, please let us send over a specialised officer. Our family liaison officer can keep you informed of every part of the investigation. I know you said you didn’t want anyone.’

  ‘Fine, OK. No. I don’t. Can you send it to me? The footage you got of us?’ I couldn’t keep the impatience out my voice. The longing to see my daughter’s face was painful. ‘Before you release it? My private email is foreverlara at Lara King dot com.’

  ‘Got it. You gave it to me earlier before the press conference.’ I had absolutely no recollection of doing so and I wondered if that was the way my shock was manifesting. ‘We’ll aim to send it out now. Before the morning broadcasts. I’ll speak to Conor too, discuss how to play things. Our comms team are planning things now but of course we need to liaise with you.’

  ‘Thank you, Detective Mcgraw.’

  I put down the phone and went back to my laptop. The footage was there already, waiting in my emails.

  To: foreverlara@laraking.com

  SUBJECT: Laurel Canyon Boulevard CCTV

  I had suspected I’d open it fast, greedy to see her face. But I found that I couldn’t do it. My body froze and I started to cry but when I least expected it, my hand moved, fingers pressing on the touchpad. Click. The cursor froze. ‘Please, Ava. Please, come back to me,’ I whispered. ‘Please. I need you here.’ The email flickered, opened. The white play arrow obscured her face at first, but I could see that the picture was clear. There was my daughter in the back. I could see her face in all its glory. She was looking out the window, into the distance. I tried to imagine what she’d been thinking. I remembered the announcement and how she’d reacted to it all. Thank God, I thought, thank God I’d taken her out alone. Made it up to her. I stroked her face on the screen, static prickling my fingers. I felt totally empty. She’s coming back, I told myself. She is. She’s just got lost. And she’ll be found. Pain gnawed away at me. I thought about my conversation with Detective Mcgraw from earlier. The expression on his face was etched into my mind.

  ‘I heard a car,’ I’d told him. And the way he’d tried to pull together his features.

  ‘It’s OK.’ He had rubbed at his eyebrow. ‘It doesn’t have to mean anything,’ but I could see in his face that he thought the exact opposite. Celebrity. Celebrity’s daughter. Obsessed fans. Enemies. Blackmailers. The stakes were high. And then him asking if she would get into any car willingly.

  No. Only Joan, Matthew, Lily. I could almost see his brain ticking through each scenario. I told myself to focus on the things I could do to help find my daughter. Finally I managed to press play.

  I watched as our shiny black Bentley rolled up to the red light. There was one car in front of us. A red soft-top convertible with a brown-haired woman in the driving seat, in some huge white sunglasses. It was at this point I had a vague memory of a car driving too closely to us, earlier that morning. Or was it the day before? I was so muddled, I couldn’t quite grasp the memory. Time was elastic. I couldn’t even pinpoint when I’d been at the press conference. I kept hovering over the thought and questioning whether I was making things up now. I watched as the light flashed amber and then green. There she was. A straight-on image of my daughter. She looked so perfect, the whole scene like something out of a Chanel advert. Her conker-brown hair with natural golden highlights flowed straight down her back, her eyes wide with excitement, taking in everything around her. I looked at her throat. No sign of her anxiety tic. She just looked perfect. An ache burned in my chest.

  I watched myself staring at the road. My bespoke personalised dashboard and the front of the car were both in focus, the lights glowing like a mini-spaceship. My hands were spread across the steering wheel, fingers
laced with diamonds.

  I focused on the screen again. I hadn’t remembered what we’d been talking about. I hadn’t even remembered taking that route but I thought about her again and everything that had happened in the pool house. Whether she’d been replaying the scene in her head. A six-year-old, trying to make sense of the things she’d seen. I knew I should have discussed it more carefully with her. But then I thought I’d make it worse. It was Joan who once told me to be careful with any anxieties. ‘Validate them but don’t indulge them,’ she’d said to me when Ava started telling us she was afraid of the dark. And so I’d thought it best just to leave it. Make her think it was all acting. She was young – she’d forget about it. Surely.

  I knew she hadn’t run off. It wasn’t something she’d do. It just wasn’t. But a seed had been planted. Maybe . . . just maybe. I played the CCTV footage over and over searching for any clues. I watched our car pull up to the traffic lights, slowly, and tried to get an insight into Ava’s mind, what she’d been thinking. Each time, the light turned to amber, then green. Our car pulled away and I watched the back of her head slowly pull out of view and then, that was it.

  She had gone.

  Just as I was about to press play again, someone knocked on the door.

  It was Joan.

  ‘Conor,’ she said. Her voice was calm but she was doing this bullfrog breathing and her eyes were bulging out of her face. ‘He’s back and asked me to hurry. To get you quickly. He needs you. Can he come in? He won’t take no for an answer.’

  ‘He can come in.’ I motioned towards the laptop screen. ‘But I need you to stall anyone else. I’m busy at the moment.’ Before I could finish talking, Conor was right next to me, and my fingers minimised the screen on my laptop.

  ‘We’re in trouble,’ he said before I could admonish him. Joan stood near us wringing her hands which made me feel even worse. I’d wanted her to leave the room before Conor started talking.