by P. R. Black
Georgia said: ‘She was found at farmland, you said – whereabouts? Anywhere near the Chessington estate?’
‘No,’ Hurlford said. This piqued his interest though. ‘What made you say that?’
‘I’m thinking, close to where my daughter disappeared.’
‘No, it was the far side of Ferngate, to the south. The flatter part. Think cornfields, out that way.’
‘She killed herself, then? That’s what you mean when you say “no suspicious circumstances”, isn’t it?’
‘I can’t say any more. You’re both educated, experienced, professional people, so I think you’ll appreciate the need for operational secrecy and discretion.’
‘Can you say if the girl had anything to do with Stephanie? Was she local?’
‘I will say that she wasn’t a classmate or a contemporary of Stephanie’s. This case looks unrelated to the missing persons inquiry over your daughter, Mrs Healey. Though of course, we can’t say for sure. Please… Stay for a few moments and get your bearings. Even a result like this in such a long-running and complex case can have a traumatic…’
Georgia fought clear of the trained officer and stood up. ‘I think I’ve wasted enough time. Thank you, though. Oh, and one thing I should have made clear when we spoke before…’ She pointed at Rod, who appeared to have shrunk in his seat with the tension and pressure released. ‘Do not release any information about me to this man. Technically we are married – but not for long. He does not speak for me, and vice versa.’
‘Mrs Healey, I’m truly sorry,’ Hurlford said.
Rod intervened: ‘Just before she goes – can you tell us if there’s been any breakthrough thanks to the anniversary campaign?’
‘One or two leads that we’re following up. Again, I can’t say any more than that.’
‘Exciting leads?’ Georgia asked. ‘You can say that, can’t you? Promising leads?’
‘That’s all I can tell you.’
‘He’s got nothing.’ Georgia turned to her husband and gave a sad smile. ‘That’s polite-speak for “he’s got nothing”.’
Hurlford was unfazed. ‘Mrs Healey, I would advise you to get some rest, and then follow the advice I gave you the other day: go home, and take a few days off if you can. I’m experienced in cases like this, and the stress involved can be too much for people to bear. Especially if they involve themselves in the inquiry. Sometimes you can make problems for yourself, and for other people.’
Georgia frowned. ‘You been following me?’
‘I have not. I’m simply saying…’
‘Just find her,’ Georgia said. ‘You wanted a new lead – it’s right in front of you. Look into that. Find “Cornfed”. He’s my top suspect.’
DI Hurlford opted for his right to silence. He merely folded his arms and met Georgia’s gaze, unflustered. ‘I’m working hard on this case, Mrs Healey.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ Rod said, getting up to follow her. ‘Paperwork? What paperwork are you talking about? What do you mean by this “Cornfed”?’
‘I think I’ll refer you to a lawyer,’ she told her husband. ‘Probably you should follow DI Hurlford’s advice, in your own right. Maybe get out of town. Before sundown, or whatever it is they say in westerns.’ She didn’t hang around for the comeback, or even for the reaction. The door to the interview room was appallingly heavy – or she had become appallingly fragile. She had to put her back and shoulders into opening it. Soon, soon, you have to lie down and sleep soon. Can’t go on. Like Dracula racing the sunrise.
Heads snapped up as she passed. She kept her head high and dignified, all the way down the stairs, through the security door and then the revolving doors at reception and out into the open air, which is where Rod caught up with her.
He appeared flustered, but his voice was soothing as he caught up. ‘I’m sorry, Georgia. This was a complete mess. And totally unnecessary. He wanted to see my reaction, I’m sure of it.’
‘And why would that be? Still having trouble putting together your movements on the night she vanished? Hasn’t your squaw given you an alibi, by now?’
‘Actually, yes.’
She paused. ‘I see. So, you were playing away that night after all. Lied to me beautifully, didn’t you? Had me convinced. Told me I was a nutter – that’s the exact word you used. Nutter. And I believed you. It seems my life was actually in tatters before my only daughter vanished. That’s refreshing. Lovely to see.’
‘Georgia, please. Listen to me. I want you to come home with me. I think you need to get some rest, and try to put all of this out of your mind. Hurlford’s right, it’s got to be difficult to come to terms with, however you slice it. Seeing all those photos of Stephanie on that website nearly broke me. God knows how you feel about it, being here all this time.’
‘You know, I’ve just put it together. You came here because he told you, didn’t you? Hurlford? He got in touch with you first. It’s true, isn’t it?’
Rod said nothing.
‘And that made it easier for you to find out where I am, and what I’m doing.’
‘I was worried about you. It’s the truth. You’re still my wife. Our history together won’t just evaporate. I wanted to come over here and see you were all right.’
‘Looking at houses, Rod? Nice family home for that little blonde piece to move into? Happy families? She got kids of her own? What was her name, then? Was it Evelyn? I forget. Maybe that was another one.’
‘Let me at least drive you back to the hotel you were staying at.’
Georgia was so tired, she was tempted. Just sink down into the seat… company car, she noticed, when she got in; a definite upgrade on what he was running before the split… let the pills wash over her, and finally, God willing, sleep.
‘No. It’s not far, I can walk.’
‘Georgia, you should have let me know about this concert thing. It’s not fair to lock me out. Whatever’s happened between us, we have to stick together over Stephanie. I want to find her as much as you do. Surely we can stick together on this? Until we find out what happened? You should have got in touch.’
It was difficult to feel angry, as such, given the dose she’d taken, but she came close. She stopped in the street, outside the front door of a vintage specialist shop, next to some racks of fruit, veg and fresh flowers from the same family business she remembered from years ago. ‘Why didn’t you know about it? Someone as computer-savvy as you… don’t you have alerts set up on your mobile phone? On search engines? Or when you’re flirting with some trollop on social media?’
‘That’s unfair. I’m a busy man. I can’t be expected to know everything…’
‘You should be plugged into it! This should be as near as you can get to having something wired directly into your fucking brain.’ She tapped a finger against her own forehead, savagely. He actually flinched. ‘You should be in contact with every available agency, every available person. You should have every number memorised.’
He bit his lip. ‘Some of us have to work, Georgia.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘As opposed to you. How long is it since you were in at the surgery? They’ve got a locum in to cover for you. I asked Barbara, and she said you’d been away on a course. Except I kept checking, and I was told you weren’t back yet. I forget all the excuses, but here’s a few. “She’s doing work up at the hospital… She’s on a break for a couple of days… I think she’s on a training day”. It didn’t take a genius to spot you had been off on the sick.’
‘That’s none of your business. Absolutely none.’
‘So, what is it then? Time off to recover? In a way I welcome it. It’s the best thing for you. You should have taken time off when you had depression. After she was born. It lasted months, a year even. Obvious to everyone but you – a bloody GP!’
‘I don’t do time off for illness. I’ve got too many people to look after.’
‘Yeah. Except your daughter.’
‘What?’
He was getting ready for a burst of rage. Everything in his stance and his features foretold this. Rod was a tall, imposing man, even with a bit less meat on his shoulders than Georgia remembered. She was braced for it. ‘I mean, you couldn’t wait to pass her off into the hands of a childminder, could you? You simply couldn’t be bothered.’
‘How dare you?’ She turned away, thought better of it, turned back, and got in his face. ‘How dare you? The absolute nerve of you to say that. Away four days here, three days there… yeah, you signed some deals. You got lucky. They still pay management consultants. But you were never there in the first place. You basically expected me to give up a career and do the childcare like your absolute drudge of a mother, didn’t you? Nursing a kid in one hand, doing the washing up with the other. Are you out of your mind? All those years of training, working as a locum all over the place, and finally, finally, I get a practice in a nice part of the city, and you expect me to give that up? To facilitate you, carrying on with your bloody dandy highwayman act in turbocharged fucking telesales!’
They had drawn a lot of attention from passers-by. The woman running the till at the fruit ’n’ veg shop viewed them with detached interest at first, but now she seemed alarmed.
‘You’re dreaming,’ he said. ‘Who paid off the mortgage? Oh, that was me. Who got Stephanie into her school? Oh, that was me. I paid the price for all that. My bonuses, my share dividends. That was all my own work.’
‘Yes, I earned money too. Hello? Doctor? GP? Yes? I have a good, responsible job. Which facilitated you in your wheeler-dealer fantasy lifestyle. Buying your fancy car, while you were in a dry patch. And your new suits. You got six of them once. Wonder how many trollops were in the back of that car? I bought into your dream lifestyle. I backed up your fantasy. So, factor that in.’
‘It’s not a fantasy, love. Check my bank statements, you want a dose of reality.’
‘Oh, sod off. You know something? There’s a part of me kind of wants the economy to tank again. If it takes out bores like you, it’ll be worth it.’
‘I see. Georgia’s rage overrules the general good. How very narcissistic of you.’
‘If there’s any more room up there, cram your pop psychology books up your arse. And how nice of you to put things in terms of money? It’s almost as if it’s the only thing that matters to you.’
‘Not the only thing. But it is a thing. You know what else mattered to me? Family. I might have been away three or four days a week, but at least I was there the other times.’
‘And I wasn’t?’
‘Frankly, no, you weren’t. Yeah, you’ve got a busy job. It’s tough work being a GP. I know that. Underfunding and what have you. I get it. But part of me thinks it was an excuse.’
‘Oh, you are off at the deep end now, old son.’
‘Really? Who took Stephanie to swimming and horse riding? That was me. Who went to all the school plays and concerts? That was me. Who made sure the uniform was ready for school? Who made sure the uniforms still fit her, and bought more when she needed them? Who cuddled her in the night when she was scared? That was me. Who took her out shopping for clothes? That was me. Who made her a nice breakfast and made sure she had a cake and candles for her birthday? That was me. Who took her to her mother’s own fucking GP practice when she was sick, where her mother passed her on to a colleague? Oh, that was me.’
‘You’re out of your mind. If you think for a minute that one or two little things here and there were any substitute for the work I did and the effort I put into that girl, you are in need of a fucking prescription, sunshine. I’ll write you one, if you like.’
But Rod was winning; he usually did. And he enjoyed it, in his traditional way. ‘We’re straying off the point. I get that you’re playing Nancy Drew out here. Trying to tie up loose ends. I get it. I’ve done it myself.’
‘What? Bollocks.’
‘I’ve been here. I’ve asked the same questions. I’ve gotten the same results: zero. So, what’s this paperwork that was found, then?’
‘Not really a concern of yours.’
‘It will be a concern of mine, and my solicitor will agree.’
‘Stephanie’s diary. It was hidden in her old flat, and hidden well. The police only just found it. They passed it on to me.’
Now he looked as if he wanted to hit her, during a long pause. ‘Well? You saving it for the next episode, or something? Never mind the suspense! Out with it! What did you find out? And when were you going to send it to me?’
‘I’ve got a copy. I scanned it in, and backed it up. I’ll send it to you.’
‘Are there any leads? What – did – you – find – out?’
‘Nothing we didn’t really know. She knew a lot of boys, as well as Martin Duke. Look, it’s complicated. I’ll send it to you – Hurlford already has a copy. You can make up your own mind.’ Georgia was on the back foot, now. She shouldn’t have let that slip in the interview room. Damn it, she needed to sleep.
‘Yeah. Send it to me today. Right after we’re done here. Look, Georgia – I’m here to find her, the same as you. I want to know what happened. But believe me, there’s no link you can uncover Hurlford and the rest of the team don’t know about. There’s dozens of officers, you know. Hundreds, maybe. Still asking questions, still knocking doors, still checking tips. At some point we’re going to have to accept it. Stephanie was a depressive. She was on medication – you know that, surely.’
‘She had a very brief course, when she was fifteen. That has no bearing…’
‘She was severely depressed. It was undiagnosed. You said so yourself. A quiet nature masked a lot of turmoil. She was down, most of the time. As you were, after you had her. It runs in families. She took after you in that regard. You know what hurt the most, that time she turned into a bloody zombie? It reminded me of you. There is a good chance that she took her own life. The walk up that road… who in their right mind would walk up that road, on a night like that? It’s like those poor people who park up their cars and walk along bridges. Except they don’t appear at the other side. You know what I’m talking about. You’ve lost patients to depression; you’ve told me about it. One day they decide they’ve had enough. And they take the road out. You have to accept this is what happened.’
‘I accept nothing.’
‘Please, Georgia. I mean the best for you. I know it’s hard to believe, but it might be time to shift how you see all this. You need to start accepting that Stephanie is most likely gone. And we might never find out how she did it, or where.’
‘If she’s gone, find me her grave. Stick some fucking flowers on it!’ A dash of purple caught her eye; she lunged for a plastic bedding container of petunias from the rack outside the fruit ’n’ veg shop, taking the flowers by the stalks as she might have gripped an opponent by the hair. She swung the entire load at him but, as on so many other occasions, he was fast when it came to a dodge. Clumps of soil erupted across the pavement.
‘Hey!’ The woman in the shop came out. She took Georgia by the arm – but not to remonstrate. ‘Calm down, there, love. Take it easy. You can’t be doing that. Now I don’t know what’s going on here, but I suggest the two of you step away for a bit and calm down. OK?’
‘I’ll pay for the flowers,’ Georgia said. ‘I’m sorry, this has been… This has been a terrible few days.’ Her face crumpled; then the woman at the till was holding her up.
‘No,’ Rod said, ‘I insist.’ He snapped a twenty-pound note out of his wallet and handed it to the woman at the till. ‘Get a nice herbal remedy for my wife with the change, would you?’
Common sense, after a fashion, prevailed. She allowed him to take her in the car. She sank into the leather seats, again. The seatbelt was like a comforting arm around the shoulder. The air conditioning was just right. She almost dozed off.
Then Georgia realised that Rod had driven past the turn-off for the hotel.
Trees enclosed them, buds erupting in the sunshine.
‘I know this road. Take me back.’
What she could see of his eyes were blank. He didn’t even blink – just gazed into the unfurling grey carpet. ‘This is the way, isn’t it? This is the road she would have taken out of town.’
‘Rod… I want to go back to my bed. I’ve had a long day…’
‘This is where she would have gone. Right turn here, at the sign? Weird old sign, that. Something out of a horror film. Must have looked even worse in a storm. Wonder if it shook in the wind? Did it creak?’
‘Rod. Stop this car, turn in the road, and take me back.’
‘Won’t seem so long by car, this,’ he said. He was breathing hard, his temper seething through the cracks in his demeanour. ‘Take you a few minutes from here to the petrol station. Different story if you’re on foot. It’s like if you’re running. You run up a slight incline, you know all about it when you get to the top. If you’re in a car, you barely even notice you’re driving at an angle.’
‘Rod. Please.’
‘So, she walked all the way along here, and then we get to the bridge… You might feel some butterflies in your stomach, apologies. Am I breaking the speed limit?’
‘Yes, you are. Slow down. Stop.’
‘Over we go. Whahey! Nice little bridge that. They say it was at real risk of washing away, that night. It’s very old, you know. Then we get to the path. There we go!’
Rod brought the car to a halt. The engine sounded like a giant snoring, his foot on the clutch and brake.
‘There it is,’ he said, ‘right up there. You’ve walked up there, right? Walked up that path, haven’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you know it’s difficult, a tough climb, but a very determined person could do it. Then there’s that crack in the earth, and the water running through it. If the fall didn’t kill her, then the water did. She’s in the water somewhere, Georgia. This is the truth. Hardly anyone was out in that weather. One or two people who passed by, and were caught on camera. The farmhand up at Chessington Hall was traced and eliminated. Everyone in a vehicle who went past the garage or past one or two houses who have security cameras has been accounted for. She wasn’t put into a car by anyone. And no one threw her over their shoulder, either. She could even be out at sea, Georgia. With the river in spate, it’s not out the question. She’ll turn up. But she’s dead? You got it? Dead. Go home, and try to get on with your life. I’ll help you in any way I can.’