She flicked back and forth through the pages, spending longer each time on the earlier pages and the photos of Kitty. On one page, there was a space where someone had removed a photo. Emer rubbed the blank rectangle where the photo should be, trying to remember what had been there. But the image wouldn’t come to her, and after a moment she gave up and turned to the next page.
She lifted her glass of wine, then put it back down again without drinking from it. She was tired of being like this. Tired of feeling crappy all the time, of messing up every good thing that ever happened to her. Tired of holding on to the past and refusing to move on with her life. She’d messed things up with Nikki, but there was still time to fix it if she really wanted. First thing tomorrow, she would call their family doctor and ask him to refer her for counselling.
The decision triggered an unfamiliar surge of optimism. She could do this. Get sober, get sorted, get Nikki back. Her very own three-step programme to recovery. But she could only do if she accepted, once and for all, that Kitty was gone.
She closed the album, took her glass into the kitchen and poured the wine down the sink. Pleased with herself, she went upstairs to brush her teeth and get ready for bed. She had just switched off her bedroom light when the landline started to ring. Whoever was calling, they wouldn’t be looking for her, so she decided not to bother answering it. After ten rings, the phone stopped and Emer snuggled down under her duvet. Her eyes closed. Like it always did, her mind started drifting back to that night in the hotel. Tonight, she withdrew from the memory and forced herself to think about something else. Like getting Nikki back.
Her body relaxed, her breathing grew deeper. And then the phone started ringing again. Grumbling and cursing, Emer threw back the duvet and ran to answer it.
‘Hello?’
‘Ursula?’ A woman’s voice. English accent.
‘I’m afraid she’s not here right now,’ Emer said. ‘Can I take a message?’
‘It’s actually her daughter, Emer, I’m looking for.’
Something was wrong. She could feel it, a tingling sensation down her arms, an icy shiver down her spine. She should hang up. End the call and go back to bed, safe in the illusion that all was well in her world. She thought back to earlier, her decision to let the past go and move forward with her life. Somehow, she knew if she continued with this call, none of that would happen. But even as she thought this, she knew she didn’t have a choice.
‘This is Emer,’ she said. ‘Who are you?’
Twenty-three
Every Friday night, Dee and her neighbours got together to share pizza and catch up with each other. Tonight, it was just Dee and Ella. Tom had gone to Ireland a few days earlier to visit his parents and he’d taken Jake with him. The two women sat out on Dee’s deck, sharing a bottle of wine and watching the night creep in across the sky after the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon.
‘Tom and Jake are back tomorrow evening,’ Ella said. ‘We were wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner on Sunday.’
‘That would be lovely,’ Dee said. ‘You sure you want to, though? Won’t you be busy packing up?’
They were leaving on Wednesday. Five days from now. Impossible to imagine.
‘I’ve done most of it,’ Ella said. ‘We really want to cook dinner for you, Dee. You’re like family to us. Please? It would mean a lot. To Jake, especially.’
‘In that case,’ Dee said, ‘how can I say no?’
She would have if she’d been able to. The thought of sitting around a table, chatting and having to pretend everything was fine, was unbearable. But Ella was right. It was important they did this for Jake, which meant Dee would have to go through with it.
‘I’m going to miss all this,’ Ella said, gesturing at the beach.
‘No you won’t,’ Dee said. ‘Canada’s meant to be stunning, isn’t it?’
‘I guess. But we’ll be living in the city, so we won’t wake up to this view every morning.’
‘Are you okay about the move?’
It hadn’t occurred to Dee, until now, that moving to Canada might not be something Ella wanted.
‘I am now,’ Ella said. ‘I didn’t want to move, at first. You know how much I love living here. But now I’ve got used to the idea, I’m excited.’
‘Of course you are. It’s a wonderful opportunity. And God knows you deserve a fresh start after everything you’ve been through.’
‘There are days I don’t think I deserve anything,’ Ella said.
Dee knew she was referring to the incident twelve years earlier that had driven Ella to run from her old life, turning up here in Eastbourne pretending to be someone else. But the person she’d been running from had found her eventually, with near-fatal consequences for Ella and Jake.
‘You’ll continue with your counselling when you move?’ Dee asked.
‘Definitely. Neil – that’s who I see at the moment – he’s given me some recommendations. I’m not too worried about that.’
‘So what are you worried about?’
‘How I’m going to cope without you. I still can’t believe we won’t be able to see each other whenever we feel like it. I’m going to miss you so much, Dee.’
‘I’ll miss you, too.’ Understatement of the bloody year. Dee’s heart already felt shredded, and they hadn’t even gone yet. ‘But we’ve got Skype and FaceTime. And I’m already planning my first visit. I’ll probably visit so much you’ll be sick of seeing me.’
‘Never.’ Ella smiled.
She looked like she wanted to say more, but Dee cut her off. Unable to bear it.
‘Will you work when you’re there?’
‘At some point I’d like to get back to my music, maybe do a Masters. But my priority at the beginning will be getting us all settled.’
On the table, Dee’s mobile started ringing.
‘Take it if you want to,’ Ella said. ‘You know I won’t mind.’
‘It’s Leonard,’ Dee said, diverting the call. ‘I left him a message earlier because there’s something I need to speak to him about. But actually, I’d like to pick your brains first. If you don’t mind?’
‘Anything that will take my mind off packing,’ Ella said. ‘I’m all ears.’
Dee told Ella everything that had happened with Emer, starting with their first meeting in Gordon’s Wine Bar, right up to her visit to Emer’s workplace earlier that day.
‘So now I’m thinking, what if Emer was right all along?’ Dee said.
‘About Annie being her sister?’ Ella frowned. ‘You can’t really believe that, Dee.’
‘I know it sounds crazy,’ Dee said. ‘But what if I’m right? And even if that’s not what’s going on, something is. Where the hell has Emer disappeared to? You know, I’m really tempted to fly to Ireland so I can find her myself and ask her what the hell is going on. I feel as if I’m the victim of someone’s practical joke.’
‘Isn’t it possible you made a mistake?’ Ella said.
‘I know what I saw.’
‘You know what you think you saw. A photo of two girls that looked a bit like the girls in the photo your cousin sent you?’
‘More than a bit.’
Even to her ears, Dee sounded pig-headed, but she couldn’t help it. In that moment, she’d been so certain.
‘Well, so what if they looked like your cousins?’ Ella said. ‘You’ve already told me that Annie looks like Emer’s sister. It makes sense she’d have looked like her when she was a kid as well.’
‘Maybe,’ Dee said. ‘But what about Emer? Why did nobody at her work know who she was? And why has her phone been disconnected?’
‘It’s Canary Wharf,’ Ella said. ‘I’ve got completely lost every time I’ve been there. Isn’t there a chance you simply went to the wrong building?’
‘Are you suggesting I’m losing my marbles?’
‘I wouldn’t dare.’ Ella smiled. ‘But I think you could be overcomplicating things. I know what you’re like, Dee. You want to
fix things. So when your cousin came into your life asking for help, of course you said yes. And of course that big Dee Doran heart wanted to fix your grieving cousin. As for believing Annie really could be someone else, surely that’s my fault?’
‘How do you work that out?’
‘When you first met me, I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Maybe that’s made you more suspicious of people than you’d be otherwise.’
‘I don’t think that’s the case,’ Dee said, ‘but maybe you’re right. The truth is, I don’t know what to think.’
‘Well I’ll tell you one thing,’ Ella said, ‘Taking on another person’s identity is a tough thing to pull off. Changing your name and having to forget every bit of your past life, cutting ties with people you care about… it’s hard work, Dee. There’s an emotional aspect to it that saps your energy and makes you doubt yourself, all the time. If Annie really is your cousin, then she’s got a damn good reason for not wanting anyone to find out. She’s running away from something, and if you’re going to pursue this, you’d better make sure you know what you’re dealing with.’
* * *
After Ella left, Dee was too restless to go to bed. She opened her laptop and checked her emails. On the train back from London earlier, she’d sent Emer an email. So far, Emer hadn’t replied. But there was an email from Shay Flaherty. Dee had emailed him earlier as well, telling him they needed to speak. He’d replied with a phone number, asking her to call him tomorrow morning.
Opening Facebook, Dee checked Emer’s account, thinking she might have posted an update. Again, there was nothing. Dee knew she should let it go, forget about Emer and Annie and Kitty and focus on the book she was writing. Emer clearly didn’t want to stay in touch and, if Dee had an ounce of good sense, she would accept that decision and move on with her life. But good sense had never been Dee’s strongest point.
Giving up on the internet, she went into the room that used to be her mother’s office. In the months following her mother’s death, Dee had spent a lot of time in this room. It had been her mother’s private space, where she came when she wanted some peace and quiet. Opening the door now, Dee realised with a shock that it had been months since she’d last come in here. The room smelled musty and everything was covered in a layer of dust. Including the old address book on the desk in the middle of the room.
Dee sat down in the chair her mother used to sit in each day to do the Times crossword. Opening the address book, she flicked through it until she found the name she was looking for. Dee’s father might have stopped speaking to his brother, but nothing in the world would have stopped her mother keeping tabs on his family over the years. Ursula Doran’s name, address and telephone number were all here, recorded in the neat handwriting Dee remembered so well.
It was only ten o’clock. Most people, Dee reasoned, would still be up at this time. There was a landline phone on the desk. Using this, Dee dialled the phone number in the address book and waited. She listened as the phone the other end rang. Ten rings later, she got a recorded message, asking her to leave her name and a number.
She hung up without speaking. Then, a few seconds later, changed her mind. Redialling the number, she waited, preparing the message she was going to leave when she got the answering service. Except this time, someone picked up.
‘Hello?’
‘Ursula?’ Dee said.
‘I’m afraid she’s not here right now,’ the woman said. ‘Can I take a message?’
‘It’s actually her daughter, Emer, I’m looking for,’ Dee said.
‘This is Emer.’
‘Emer, thank goodness. It’s Dee. I’ve been trying to call you the last few days but your phone’s been disconnected. You didn’t tell me you were going back to Ireland. Is everything okay?’
‘Excuse me, I think there’s been some mistake. What did you say your name was?’
‘Dee. Your cousin.’
‘And how am I meant to know you?’
‘Because we’ve met,’ Dee said. ‘In London.’
But she already knew it was pointless. This woman sounded different. Her voice was deeper, her accent stronger.
‘I think I must have dialled the wrong number,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’
‘Hang on,’ the woman said. ‘You said your name is Dee?’
‘Dee Doran. Your cousin.’
‘I do have a cousin called Dee,’ the woman said. ‘But I’ve never met her. Which means she wouldn’t be calling here asking to speak to me, pretending we’d already been in touch. So maybe you can start again. And this time, tell me who the hell you really are.’
Twenty-four
‘I doesn’t make any sense,’ Emer said.
‘But you were in London in July?’ Dee said. ‘And that incident on the London Underground really happened?’
‘That’s right.’ Emer could still feel it. The shock of recognition when the woman had looked up from her book. ‘But it’s not her. My stepfather hired a private detective who told him she’s definitely not Kitty.’
‘What else did you stepfather tell you?’
‘He said she’s not Kitty. Her name is Annie Holden. She’s an artist from Sussex.’
‘Which is right,’ Dee said. ‘But it wasn’t a private detective who found this out, Emer. It was me.’
Emer didn’t reply, because she had no idea what to say.
‘Are you okay?’ Dee asked.
‘Not really,’ Emer said. ‘If what you’re telling me is the truth, then that means Robert has been lying to me.’
‘When did your stepfather tell you about Annie?’
‘Tuesday,’ Emer said. ‘Why?’
‘On Monday, I went for lunch with the woman who was pretending to be you. That’s when I told her that Annie Holden wasn’t Kitty. Then the next day – the very next day – your stepfather told you the same thing.’
‘So the woman who was pretending to be me,’ Emer said, ‘she was the detective hired by Robert?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Dee said. ‘Why would a private detective need me to do their dirty work for them?’
‘Robert didn’t want you involved,’ Emer said. ‘That’s why he hired the detective. But maybe she contacted you without him knowing about it.’
Or maybe Robert had been spinning her a load of bullshit. It wasn’t cold in the house but Emer was shivering. Her body was reacting faster than her brain to what she was being told.
‘How do I know you’re telling the truth?’ she asked. Because now she thought about it, the person making this phone call could be anyone.
‘You don’t,’ Dee said. ‘But what possible reason could I have for making any of this up?’
Good question.
‘And this woman,’ Emer said. ‘She sent you a photo of me and Kitty?’
‘You were standing on a street somewhere,’ Dee said. ‘You had your arms around each other’s shoulders and you were both smiling. It’s a lovely photo.’
Emer remembered the empty space in the photo album. And she remembered the photo that used to be there. There were only two people who could have removed that photo – Robert or her mother.
‘I found another photo of you both in Annie’s house,’ Dee said.
‘My mother’s idea of playing happy families,’ Emer said. ‘Taking photos of us. Most of the time, we hated it. Although we never told her that. We always played along, because we were too scared not to. There were always a lot of photos. It would have been easy for Kitty to take one and keep it for herself. No one would notice one photo was missing.’
Emer felt giddy, light-headed. Was it really possible that she’d been right all along?
‘You really think Kitty’s still alive?’ she said.
‘I’m not sure,’ Dee said. ‘But I think she might be, yes. Do you remember a girl called Lucy Ryan?’
‘Of course I remember Lucy. What about her?’
She remembered other things too. Lucy and Kitty whispering secrets to each other, planning somet
hing in the weeks leading up to Lucy’s disappearance. Lucy’s father, banging on their front door, screaming for Kitty to come out and tell him what had happened to his daughter. Mum, Kitty and Emer cowering in the kitchen, hands over their ears, praying for him to go away. Her parents arguing. Her father telling her mother they didn’t have a choice. A choice about what?
The girls were there that night.
Is that what her mother had said, or had Emer misheard her? She couldn’t trust anything, not even her own memories.
Outside, she heard Robert’s car pulling into the driveway. He’d been like a father to her. Better than her own father had ever been. Solid, reliable, calm. A positive presence in her life. If there was anyone she could trust, it was Robert. Wasn’t it?
‘Dee, I’ve got to go. But first, tell me why you asked me about Lucy.’
‘It’s complicated,’ Dee said. ‘And I’d rather not say anything until I’m sure. I’m going back to London tomorrow to try to speak to Annie again. I’ll let you know how I get on.’
‘Brilliant, thanks. I’ll speak to you tomorrow evening.’
She hung up, just as the front door opened.
‘Hello?’
She heard the steady sound of his footsteps walking down the hall towards the kitchen. She crossed the room, so she could be closer to the knife rack. It was ridiculous to think of taking one of those knives and using it against him. But everything felt ridiculous and wrong suddenly.
‘Emer.’ He smiled when he saw her. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d be still up. How’s your evening been?’
‘Weird,’ she said.
‘Weird how?’
He walked over to the fridge and took out a beer. Only one. Every night, the same routine. A single beer at the end of his working day. Except who worked until almost eleven o’clock on a Friday evening?
‘Where have you been?’
She watched as he carefully poured the beer into his glass before answering.
Before You Were Gone Page 14