Long Gone

by Paul Pilkington

  ‘Family connection to Sir Kenneth?’ Ben joked. ‘Maybe he’s his nephew, or something.’

  ‘Nepotism, yes possibly,’ Samantha mused. ‘I’d wondered that myself. Can’t see the likeness though,’ she joked.

  ‘He could just be a wildcard,’ Penny tried. ‘Someone to throw in the mix, chosen at random, almost.’

  Samantha nodded. ‘Could be. I can see Sir Kenneth doing something like that – thinking out of the box.’

  ‘You do have to wonder how any of us got chosen,’ Penny added. ‘I mean, yes, we’ve all done things, impressive things, but so have a lot of people. We’re not that special. So how did we get picked out from all those thousands of people? It must be luck to a large extent.’

  ‘The harder you work, the luckier you get,’ said Ben, pointing at her with a shard of toast before popping it in his mouth.

  ‘I agree,’ she replied. ‘But it still could have been any other number of people who got picked.’

  ‘Except for Natalie,’ Samantha stated.

  Natalie looked up from her cereal bowl. She knew what Samantha was alluding to.

  Samantha smiled. ‘Remember that only one of us, to our knowledge, was personally invited to apply by Sir Kenneth.’

  ‘True,’ Ben nodded.

  ‘To our knowledge,’ Penny said, coming to Natalie’s aid. She smiled at Samantha. ‘Maybe you were invited too.’

  ‘I wasn’t really invited,’ Natalie added. ‘He mentioned it to me, that’s all.’

  Samantha held up her hands. ‘Okay, okay. I’m teasing. I promise I won’t mention it anymore. Back to Matthew though… any more theories?’

  ‘Maybe he’s not who he says he is,’ Natalie thought out loud, not quite meaning to vocalise her thoughts.

  ‘Ah, now that’s a good thought,’ Samantha said, a smile curling on her ruby lips. ‘You think he might not be a city trader at all?’

  ‘We’ve only got his word to go on,’ Natalie replied, feeling a little uncomfortable speculating about the honesty of a man she hadn’t even spoken to yet. ‘Like you said last night, Samantha, we can’t verify anything people say without access to the internet.’

  ‘He looks like a city trader,’ Penny noted.

  ‘Talks like one too,’ Ben added. ‘When he got started about currency fluctuations and exchange rates, he lost me. Maths was never my strong point.’

  Samantha narrowed her eyes. ‘He seems familiar. Maybe he’s an actor.’

  ‘What, an actor employed by Brand New?’ Natalie said. ‘To pretend to be an applicant?’

  ‘Wow, now you’re sounding a little paranoid there, Natalie,’ Samantha said. ‘I was just wondering why he seemed familiar, that’s all. But your theory is a whole other level of weird. I like it.’

  ‘I wonder where Russell is,’ Ben said. ‘We’re all here except him.’

  Penny glanced at her watch. ‘Maybe we should see if he’s awake? It wouldn’t be good to miss this morning’s briefing.’

  ‘Except that we don’t know his room number.’

  ‘He’s in Oak Room, on the second floor,’ Natalie said without thinking. She blushed. ‘He mentioned it to me last night,’ she added quickly.

  Samantha arched an eyebrow, but bit her tongue. ‘Surely the wake-up call would have woken him,’ she said finally.

  ‘Unless he fell back to sleep,’ Ben said.

  ‘I’ll go,’ Natalie said, sliding out her chair. ‘You’re right, Penny, we shouldn’t let him miss the briefing. If he is still asleep, he’s got less than half an hour.’

  NATALIE STOPPED at the other table as she made her way towards the exit.

  ‘Have any of you guys seen Russell this morning?’

  They all said no.

  ‘Why? Something we should know about?’ Matthew enquired.

  ‘I think he’s overslept,’ Natalie explained. ‘I’m going to check on him now.’

  She headed for the stairs and made her way up to the second floor. Just a few hours ago, she’d wished Russell goodnight on this patch of landing, before retreating to her own room for that fitful night’s sleep.

  She knocked gently. And then knocked again.

  There was no answer.

  ‘Russell,’ she whispered. ‘Are you awake?’

  She knocked again, this time with more force.

  Still nothing.

  Then, without really thinking, she tried the handle and it opened.

  ‘Russell? You awake?’ she said, stepping into the room, leaving the door open behind her.

  But Russell wasn’t there. The main room and the bathroom were unoccupied.

  Natalie looked on in confusion at the perfectly made bed. It looked as if it hadn’t been slept in. Or it had been remade by a professional. She didn’t have Russell down as the neat bed-making type, but you never could tell.

  ‘He’s gone.’

  Natalie spun around, somehow stifling a scream. Tabitha was standing in the doorway, with her trusty clipboard.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Russell left the house early this morning.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘He said on reflection he didn’t feel that the opportunity was for him,’ Tabitha explained curtly. ‘So he asked to leave, and of course we didn’t stand in his way.’

  ‘Right.’ Natalie looked at Tabitha for any signs that there was more to this. Had Russell been expelled from the house because he had broken the rules by leaving his room out of hours? Or, she thought with a shudder, did they know exactly what had happened that evening?

  Maybe they’d been caught on CCTV.

  Tabitha smiled. ‘We only want people here who really desire to be here, Natalie. Sir Kenneth wouldn’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable. Did you get his wake-up message this morning?’

  ‘Err, yes, thank you. It was… a lovely surprise.’

  ‘Yes, I bet.’ The smile stayed for a second or two, before fading. ‘Anyway, Natalie, I’d better get back downstairs, ready for the briefing. Don’t be late!’

  Natalie stood in the middle of the room as Tabitha left. Something didn’t feel right about the circumstances of Russell’s departure. He hadn’t given the slightest indication that he was planning to leave the house. And why did his bed not look slept in? That suggested he’d never made it to bed after they’d said their goodbyes. But even if he had decided to leave, would he have left in the middle of night, rather than just sleeping on it and leaving first thing in the morning? She fished his business card out of her pocket and gazed at the cell number.

  If only she had access to a phone.

  20

  Paul Cullen strolled down the banks of the Thames. He’d alighted a stop early, to take advantage of the time to think by the riverside. London was a fantastic city, especially in the spring. Yes, the streets were busy and polluted. But among that busyness, dirt and grime, were oases of calm – the Royal Parks and the river in particular.

  He sat facing the water as a rowing boat skimmed past, followed by several passenger craft. He watched the water swash against the banks, lost in thought.

  He pulled out his phone and twisted it over and over in his hand, considering calling Sarah. He’d asked Amy not to tell her mum anything about Natalie’s disappearance, as it would only worry her and she had enough to deal at the moment.

  With Sarah’s name on the screen, his finger hovered over the call button. It was ten thirty. She would probably be at the care home, and wouldn’t want to be disturbed.

  He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

  He would call her later, when the timing was better.

  Cullen set off towards the road. As he was waiting to cross, a lorry rumbled past, evoking the memory of the boy under the wheels.

  He shook off the memory and crossed on green.

  It wasn’t good to look back.

  IT WASN’T hard to miss the offices of Brand New. Right by the banks of the river, the huge building of glass and steel thrust its way up some twenty floors towards the sky. Cullen
gazed up at the gleaming structure.

  ‘There’s money here,’ he noted.

  He entered reception as if he were meant to be there, striding over to the desk confidently and with a smile.

  ‘Detective Chief Inspector Paul Cullen, British Transport Police,’ he said, flashing his badge at the receptionist. She squinted at the badge as Cullen waited. ‘I’m here to see Kenneth New.’

  He might as well shoot for the stars.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, puzzled. ‘You have a meeting with Sir Kenneth?’

  The incredulous nature of the question wound him up more than it should.

  ‘Yes.’

  She began tapping away at her computer, her brow knotted, desperately trying to confirm what she’d just been told. Cullen enjoyed seeing how far he could get in these kinds of situations. It was amazing how much could be achieved by a police badge and a large dollop of bravado.

  ‘I called this morning. It’s about an incident at the weekend.’

  That wasn’t a lie. He had called the main number that was listed online for the company, but had given up at the point where he was asked to select from six options, none of which included informal police investigation.

  She was still tapping away desperately. ‘I… I can’t see anything here on the system…’

  In a few seconds she would call backup.

  ‘Who did you say you were again?’ she asking, picking up the phone.

  Bingo. ‘Detective Chief Inspector Paul Cullen. British Transport Police.’

  ‘Detective Chief Inspector,’ she said slowly to herself, punching in a four-digit number.

  ‘It’s about a potentially serious incident at the weekend,’ he pressed, just to make sure.

  She nodded. ‘I’ll get someone down to see you.’

  He smiled warmly. ‘Much appreciated.’

  ‘Hi, it’s Anne-Marie here at reception. I’ve got a police inspector here. He said he’s got a meeting with Sir Kenneth…’ She looked at Cullen, who had stepped back from the desk but was still within earshot. ‘I’m not sure… could you send someone down? No, I don’t think so… thanks, that’s great.’

  ‘Someone will be down shortly to see you,’ she said, as Cullen examined the large sculpture that stood just to the right of the reception desk.

  ‘Fantastic. Thanks so much. This sculpture,’ he said. ‘What’s it meant to be?’

  ‘That’s by Oscar Ocado.’

  Cullen was none the wiser. ‘Oscar?’

  ‘Ocado. The world-famous sculptor. Brazilian. He designed a series of sculptures for the Rio Olympics. This is one of them.’

  Cullen looked again at the piece. It was red metal, gnarled and twisted around a black object at the centre. ‘So what’s it meant to be?’ he repeated.

  ‘It represents the potential of humankind.’

  Cullen didn’t see it.

  ‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ she tried.

  ‘I’m more of a Lowry man, myself,’ he said.

  She looked confused.

  ‘You know, matchstick men and matchstick cats and dogs?’

  Equally confused. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It was a song my parents used to sing. About the artist D.S. Lowry.’

  ‘Not heard of him. I’ll have to Google it,’ she said.

  ‘HI, PLEASED TO MEET YOU.’

  Paul Cullen rose from the comfy chair as the young lady approached with arm outstretched, a clipboard tucked underneath the other arm.

  He took her hand. ‘Likewise.’

  ‘Tabitha Blair,’ she smiled. ‘I work with Sir Kenneth. I hear you have a meeting with him?’

  It was clear from the way she asked the question that there was no doubt in her mind that such a meeting had not been arranged.

  ‘I’d like to speak with Sir Kenneth,’ he said, dodging the question. He showed his badge again. ‘Detective Chief Inspector Paul Cullen, of the British Transport Police.’

  She gazed at the details, her face serious. ‘How can we help?’ she smiled eventually, hugging her clipboard in a way that reminded Cullen of one of those package holiday tour representatives. She was about the right age too – probably early twenties.

  ‘I’m looking for a young lady by the name of Natalie Long. We’ve been contacted by a family friend who is concerned about her whereabouts…’

  It was clear from her reaction that she knew Natalie.

  ‘I have reason to believe that she spent the weekend in London as part of a recruitment event with your company.’

  She blinked several times. ‘That’s correct, yes. She was one of the eight contestants staying at our house in Mayfair. In fact, she won.’

  21

  Previous Saturday morning

  NATALIE RETURNED DOWNSTAIRS, where the others were still chatting over breakfast. They looked up expectantly as she approached.

  ‘So, was he asleep?’ Ben asked.

  ‘He’s left the house,’ Natalie replied, sitting down.

  ‘What?’ Penny said. ‘He’s left?’

  ‘Gone.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Tabitha told me. She saw me up there, looking for him. Said he’d left in the early morning.’

  ‘Well,’ Ben said, blowing out his cheeks. ‘One down, eight to go.’

  ‘Did she say why he left?’ Penny asked.

  Natalie shrugged. ‘Just that he’d decided it wasn’t for him.’

  ‘Well, I’m surprised,’ Ben said.

  ‘I’m not,’ Samantha stated.

  They all looked across at her for more of an explanation.

  ‘I’m not shocked,’ she reiterated. ‘He seemed a bit headstrong yesterday. I couldn’t really imagine him working in a company like Brand New, taking orders from Sir Kenneth.’

  ‘Well, I’m still shocked,’ Ben said. ‘I mean, why go to all the effort of applying for this amazing opportunity, then being fortunate enough to get a place, and then just turn and walk before you’ve even given it a chance?’

  ‘You’ll have to ask him yourself,’ Samantha said, ‘if you ever get the chance to meet him after we get out.’

  Natalie thought again about Russell’s card, which was still in her pocket. It was frustrating, having his number but with no means to call. She’d thought about possibilities. The only phone she’d seen was the one at reception, but surely it would be impossible to call him from there during the day without being spotted.

  ‘You okay, Natalie?’ Samantha asked. ‘You look very thoughtful.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said, still wondering about access to a phone. Tabitha would surely have a mobile on her, but that would be even harder to get to than the reception phone.

  Unless she left it in her office.

  Or maybe there was a landline in there.

  ‘You’re sad he’s gone,’ Samantha tried. ‘I could see you two had a connection.’

  Natalie smiled, but inside she was thinking again about the anonymous tip-off that Tabitha had received. ‘I got on quite well with him,’ she admitted. ‘But we’d only just met.’

  ‘I think he’d have been a strong competitor,’ Ben mused. ‘It’s probably lucky for us that he’s walked.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Samantha said. ‘But we’ll never know now, will we?’

  ‘HI, GUYS!’ Tabitha called out across the breakfast room. ‘Time for the morning briefing. If you wouldn’t mind coming on through to the drawing room, everything will be explained.’

  They all made their way past the reception, Natalie sneaking a quick look at the phone behind the desk, before following Tabitha along the corridor towards the drawing room. There were a few long leather sofas placed in a semi-circle, facing an open fireplace, and above the fireplace hung a huge rural landscape painting.

  ‘Please, do take a seat,’ Tabitha instructed. ‘Sir Kenneth will be along in a moment to welcome you.’

  She breezed out the door as the group broke into hushed excitement.

  ‘I just knew Sir Kenneth would be here!’
Krishna exclaimed. His face was lit up like a child on Christmas morning. ‘This is just an amazing moment, a pivotal moment in my life trajectory.’

  ‘Oh, please,’ Samantha muttered in Natalie’s direction. Natalie didn’t take her on, instead remaining silent as they waited for something to happen.

  Suddenly there was a noise, a mechanism moving, and the landscape painting began to move slowly upwards.

  Behind it was a flat screen.

  ‘I knew it,’ Samantha said. ‘Sir Kenneth isn’t here. We’ll be watching him on TV.’

  ‘He’s obviously far too busy and important to put in an appearance with us plebs,’ Ben said.

  Natalie looked across at Krishna, who was sitting between Susie and Matthew. He was crestfallen.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ he said. He twisted his neck to locate Tabitha, who had just re-entered. ‘Is Sir Kenneth not here?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘he’s here.’

  Krishna frowned as he saw Tabitha carrying a tray of headsets.

  ‘Please,’ she said, ‘if you can each take one and put them on.’

  The group of seven complied. Natalie adjusted the headset, which wrapped around the front of her head, covering her eyes. She was in darkness. And then suddenly she could see the room again. She turned and saw Samantha to her left, as if she were just looking through clear glass. But there must have been more to it. Although she’d never tried it before, the equipment looked like the virtual reality headsets she’d seen in shops.

  ‘Please,’ said Tabitha, who was now standing in front of them. ‘Do not remove your headset before you have been told it is okay to do so. Anyone who does remove the headset in contravention of this will unfortunately forfeit their place in the house. Can you all just give me a thumbs up to indicate you understand this.’

  Natalie and the others did so.

  ‘Fantastic. And now, here is your special visitor!’

  ‘Welcome everyone!’ a voice said. It was Sir Kenneth, and it sounded as if he were behind them. Natalie turned and there he was, hands clasped behind his back, pacing around the back of the sofas like a headmaster stalking amongst his pupils. ‘It’s great to see you all.’ He stopped in front of them, next to Tabitha, and smiled widely. ‘Welcome again to New House!’