My Little Girl

by Shalini Boland

  I’ll give Jill time and space to explain to Oliver about her precarious financial situation. It’s probably not something she’ll want to blurt out right now, especially with Beatrice missing. No, the best thing I can do at the moment is put Jill’s financial situation right out of my head. We’ll all deal with it later.

  For a brief moment, I have the crazy idea that Jill and Laurel might have kidnapped Bea for the money. But that’s just my mind running away with itself. There’s been no ransom demand, no request for any cash. We’re not exactly rich, anyway. I almost wish it were true – at least then I’d know Beatrice would be safe. But I must be losing the plot to even think such a thing. There’s no way Jill would do anything like that. Unless… maybe Laurel was working on her own…

  Was it a coincidence that Laurel called Jill at the very moment Beatrice went missing? Maybe she called to distract her? They say that things like this are usually carried out by people you know. Should I mention my suspicions to Gayle? Jill and Oliver would be outraged if I did that. They’d be incredulous that I was even thinking this way. They’d assume it was jealousy talking. That I had it in for my husband’s ex-wife.

  The car’s air con is taking its sweet time to get going. I’m tempted to open all the windows and start some kind of breeze circulating. I resist, instead cranking up the air con to its max setting. I wish I’d remembered to bring a bottle of water.

  While Ollie goes to visit his mum, I’m driving over to see Freya. She’s my sanity right now. This time she knows I’m coming, and has offered to make brunch. Even thinking about going to my friend’s for brunch while Beatrice is still out there missing brings up intense feelings of guilt. How can I be doing something so normal while my little girl is lost?

  I don’t think I’ve taken it in yet. Not properly. Part of me doesn’t even believe it’s real. That it’s not all some horrible dream. If I allowed myself to truly think about what’s happened, to project forward all the possible scenarios and outcomes, I don’t think I’d be able to function. Instead, I’m refusing to think about things too deeply. I’m simply focusing on the practicalities. On doing whatever it takes to save my daughter. That’s all that matters.

  When I reach Freya’s, I’m greeted once more by a volley of barks as Charlie, Tim and Bessie come to say hello. Freya opens the door with a smile, her shiny caramel bob sleek and swinging today, unlike my ratty ponytail. I follow her inside.

  ‘Hey, you.’ She gives me a hug.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘You hungry yet?’

  The kitchen is warm with the aroma of something delicious and my stomach rumbles. ‘If I wasn’t before, I am now. What’s cooking?’

  ‘I put some croissants in the oven. They should be done any minute. Thought we could eat in the courtyard. It’s a bit cooler out the back.’

  ‘Sounds perfect. Are your mum and dad not around?’

  ‘They’ve gone to the auction today. Won’t be back till later, but they send their love. How’s Ollie?’

  ‘Gone to see his mum.’ I don’t say anything more about him. Freya and I are good friends, but I wouldn’t feel right complaining to her about my husband. It would feel disloyal.

  Soon, we’re both sitting beneath the wisteria-covered pergola on the ancient wrought-iron patio set that manages to somehow look elegant in this beautiful setting. Thankfully, the chairs are furnished with comfy seat cushions. Bees buzz and butterflies flit and for a brief second, as I sip my iced coffee and pick at the plate of fresh fruit, it feels as though everything is good. Until I remember that, actually, nothing is good.

  ‘Sorry about Dad yesterday.’ Freya winces at the memory. ‘He thought he was helping by mentioning that choir guy.’

  ‘Don’t apologise. I’m glad he did mention it. I reported him to the police and they’ve been following it up.’

  ‘Really?’ She proffers the plate of croissants. I take one; it’s warm and flaky.

  ‘Yeah. Gavin Holloway. They’ve been interviewing him. Checking out his so-called alibi.’

  ‘So-called?’ Freya tilts her head.

  ‘His mother.’ I roll my eyes.

  ‘Well that’s rubbish.’ Freya starts spreading jam on her pastry, batting away a wasp which buzzes angrily towards me instead. I tilt my head back and wait for it to move away. ‘How can you have your mum as an alibi? Course she’s going to lie for him.’

  I shake my head in disgust. ‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? I was thinking that I might pay him a visit myself.’

  ‘What!?’ Freya puts her knife down and looks at me in horror. ‘You can’t do that. He might be dangerous.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t believe he did it.’

  ‘I didn’t say that. It’s just, we don’t know either way. It was just a rumour that he was at the fair. Whether he’s involved or not, I don’t think it’s a good idea to confront a total stranger. Especially not one with such a dodgy past. Anyway, I don’t think the police would be too happy about you talking to him. I don’t want you getting into trouble.’

  ‘I don’t care about that. He could be our best bet at finding Beatrice. Ollie said he wanted to beat the shit out of him.’

  ‘Hah! Doesn’t surprise me. He always was a bit of a hothead at school. Got into more than a few fights back then did our Oliver.’

  ‘Really?’ I frown. How come I never knew that about him? ‘Ollie did? Are you sure?’

  ‘Probably teenage hormones,’ Freya drawls. ‘He grew out of it. But he’s definitely capable of doing some damage. You should ask Jill about his suspension from school when he was… I think he was about fourteen, maybe fifteen.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Frey. Why did I never know about this?’ I can’t help thinking that if I didn’t know about this side of my husband, what else might I not know about him? The thought unsettles me.

  ‘He’ll probably kill me for telling you. Forget I said anything.’ She gives a little laugh and shakes her head to let me know she’s not really worried. ‘Back to Holloway though, don’t do anything stupid. Promise me.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll just follow him, rather than a direct confrontation. He might lead me to her. They didn’t find any trace at his property. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t take her.’ Just saying those words out loud curdles my stomach.

  ‘I really don’t think you should be doing anything like that, Claire.’

  Freya gives me a long, hard stare, until I soften my gaze.

  ‘I can’t do nothing.’

  ‘Well at least promise me you won’t do anything without letting me know first – so that I can rescue you if you get into trouble.’

  ‘Fine.’

  She nods, satisfied, and gets back to her croissant.

  I can’t be bothered with butter or jam, so I just break off small pieces and start popping them into my mouth, chewing without really tasting, like all my meals at the moment.

  ‘There’s another person I’ve been thinking about, who may or may not have been involved.’ I want to get my friend’s take on my recent theory. I need to hear if she thinks it’s a possibility or if I’m way off base.

  Freya squints. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Okay, so hear me out.’ I feel a bit silly even telling her. ‘I wondered about Laurel.’

  ‘Ollie’s ex-wife?’ The look on Freya’s face tells me I’m crazy for even thinking it.

  ‘Just listen before you say anything.’

  She raises her hands and nods. ‘I’m all ears.’

  I tell her about Laurel calling Jill’s mobile at the exact moment Beatrice went missing. And about how Laurel is still very much in Jill’s life. How Jill feels sorry for her and thinks that she never really got over Oliver.

  Freya taps her lips, thinking for a moment. ‘That’s weird, that she’s still friends with Jill. You’d think it would be awkward with Ollie.’

  ‘I know, right. But that’s the thing – I don’t even think Ollie knows how close they are.’ I push away the thought that he might know, but has ch
osen not to tell me, which would really piss me off.

  Freya gives a thoughtful hmm sound as she pushes her hair off her face with both hands. ‘Even if Laurel does still have a thing for Ollie, it doesn’t necessarily mean she’d do something as drastic as taking Beatrice. I mean, what would be the endgame? What’s her motivation, other than being a total psycho?’

  ‘Revenge? Jealousy? To put a strain on our marriage?’ When I put it like that, it doesn’t sound quite so outlandish after all.

  ‘Come on… Laurel? She’s so wishy-washy, so peace and lentils. She’d never be able to carry off something like that. I know she can be annoying, but I honestly don’t think she’s behind it.’

  ‘I know what you mean. But to ring Jill at the exact moment Bea went missing… surely that’s no coincidence.’

  Freya looks sceptical. ‘Maybe that phone call was the reason Jill took her eye off Bea. Maybe it was simply the catalyst for Bea’s disappearance. Just a horrible coincidence. Honestly, I’m sure Laurel wouldn’t have done something like that. Think about it. Think about her. Would she really do that?’

  ‘You’re probably right.’ I sigh. I love Freya, but sometimes I wish she’d be a bit less trusting. She’s always so keen to see the good in everybody, which is probably why she ends up getting hurt by men all the time. Always going for the wrong guys and believing their bullshit.

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ Freya takes the last few sips of her coffee, stirring the ice with her straw.

  ‘Jill said she’ll contact the police about Laurel’s call, so we’ll see what they make of it.’

  ‘You mean she hasn’t told them yet?’

  ‘Apparently she didn’t think it was important. Well, if she doesn’t tell them soon, then I will.’

  ‘Careful you don’t get Jill in trouble,’ Freya replies.

  ‘Oh. Yeah. Good point. I’ll tell them that Jill asked me to report it. So they don’t think she’s keeping information from them.’

  Freya gives a heavy nod. ‘You poor thing. I wish I could do more to help.’

  ‘Oh, Frey. You’re already doing loads by just listening. And by feeding me!’ I gesture to the spread on the table just as that persistent wasp makes a reappearance and stings me on the wrist. ‘Shit!’

  ‘What is it? Claire, are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine. That wasp just stung me.’

  ‘You okay?’

  I nod, examining the angry red dot on my skin that’s now starting to swell.

  ‘Stay there. I’ll get some bite cream.’

  I sink back into my chair, thinking that this is just typical. I know it’s just a wasp sting, but it feels somehow personal. Like the universe is against me. Tears prick at the corner of my eyes and I have to blink and take a breath to stop them falling. I can’t let something as tiny as an insect unravel me. Not now.

  Twenty-Eight

  JILL

  I’m finally back home, resting with my feet up on the sofa. Bless Claire’s heart; earlier this morning, after the M&S situation, she left me seated on the wooden bench by the bus stop while she returned to the supermarket and paid for everything that I’d left in my basket, plus a few extras. She also told me that sometime soon, we’d have a confidential meeting, just the two of us, where she’d help me sort out my finances. I can’t believe that she’s being so lovely. I think I might have misjudged her all these years. Which was possibly due to my closeness to Laurel.

  Aside from this morning’s drama, I’m a little disappointed right now. Oliver was supposed to come over to see me later, but he left a message to say that he doesn’t want to leave Claire so he’ll visit tomorrow instead. I’d really been looking forward to having my boy all to myself. I wanted to support him. To find out how he’s bearing up. To make him tea and feed him biscuits and pamper him with a fancy lunch. But I can’t begrudge Claire his attention. Not after what she did for me this morning. Not after what she’s been through, and is still enduring. I just hope she doesn’t spill the beans to Oliver about what she saw earlier in the supermarket. Or about my money worries. I know I promised Claire I’d tell Oliver, and I will. Just… not yet.

  I’m pulled from my thoughts by the doorbell. Normally, I love the chime of my doorbell and the ringing of my phone – they usually signify friends and family who are thinking of me – but these past few days those sounds have invoked deep feelings of dread. Of fear that it will be more bad news.

  I drag myself upright and walk towards the front door with a swooping feeling in my belly. So much so that I put a hand to it, to try to calm the jitters. I open the door, surprised and quite relieved to see that it’s Claire. ‘Hello, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.’ I peer beyond her shoulder hopefully to see if Oliver’s here too, but the space behind her is empty.

  She gives what looks like a nervous smile, and my anxiety returns. ‘Hi, Jill. Can I come in for a sec?’

  ‘Of course.’ I step aside and follow her through to the kitchen. ‘Thank you so much for your help this morning – and your understanding.’

  ‘What? Oh, yes, of course. Not a problem.’ She seems distracted.

  ‘Have a seat.’ I gesture to the sofa while I take one of the dining chairs before immediately standing again. ‘Sorry, would you like a drink?’

  ‘No, I’m fine thanks.’

  I sit again, waiting, with no small amount of trepidation, for her to explain why she’s come. I also wonder why she’s not with Oliver. He said he didn’t want to leave her this morning and yet here she is, alone.

  She takes a breath as though she’s building up to whatever it is she wants to say. ‘I just wanted to let you know that I’ve spoken to Gayle, our police family liaison officer – remember, I told you about her?’

  I nod. ‘Okay. What were you speaking to her about?’

  ‘Well, after the conversation you and I had this morning, I told Gayle about Laurel’s phone call to you at the fair. I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t want to wait. We have to tell them anything that might help find Beatrice, right?’

  My heart is suddenly pounding. What must the police think of me keeping back that piece of information? What if they think I’m negligent? That I was distracted while I was supposed to be looking after my granddaughter and her friend.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Claire leans over and puts a hand on my knee. ‘I told them that you’d just remembered and were about to tell them yourself, but that I said I’d do it for you.’

  ‘Oh, okay.’ Nausea swirls up from my gut and I have to swallow it back down. ‘I understand why you told them, Claire, but it does paint me in rather a bad light, don’t you think? It should really have come from me.’ My voice is weak and quivery.

  ‘No, honestly, it doesn’t. Gayle was fine about it. She thanked me for letting her know and said she was glad you’d told me.’

  Despite Claire’s reassurances, my skin is clammy and my breathing is becoming shallow again. It just seems to be one blow after another at the moment. I know Claire doesn’t think there’s a problem with what she’s done, but I hope the police don’t think that I was trying to hide the call. Although, if I’m honest with myself, I was trying to forget about it. I wish I’d never answered my mobile that evening. Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this dreadful situation.

  ‘I did have the craziest theory,’ Claire says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  ‘Theory?’

  ‘It’s probably a little far-fetched. But I couldn’t stop it popping into my head.’ She pauses for a moment. ‘I worried that Laurel might have made the call on purpose to distract you.’

  ‘Distract me?’ All I seem to be doing is repeating everything Claire says. My mind is all over the place right now.

  ‘You know, while she… I dunno, took Beatrice? I know that’s probably a ridiculous and awful thing to say.’

  ‘You think Laurel might have taken Bea?’ I know I sound shocked by Claire’s theory, but didn’t I have the exact same thought myself? Although, the difference is
, I dismissed it as soon as it flew into my brain.

  ‘I know it sounds crazy, but right now I’m willing to explore any possibility no matter how slim.’

  I straighten up in my chair and nod. ‘You’re right. We need to look at every single option and follow it through. Just like the police would. This is Beatrice we’re talking about, and we have to do everything we possibly can to get her home.’

  ‘Thank you, Jill. Yes! This is what I’m talking about. I’m so glad you agree.’

  ‘I’m not necessarily agreeing that it was Laurel, you understand. Just that I’m not ruling it out.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  I worry that Claire will want us to confront Laurel and I’m really not up to that right this second. ‘At the same time, I don’t think we should go flinging accusations around. Let’s wait and see what the police do about her phone call. Maybe they’ll bring her in for questioning and come to the same conclusion.’

  Claire gives me a dubious look. ‘I think it would be better if we told them our theory. We don’t have time to waste.’

  ‘What if we’re wrong though? And we get an innocent woman into trouble?’

  Claire scowls. ‘What if we’re not wrong? Don’t you want to find Bea?’

  I try to keep calm. Remember that Claire is frightened for her daughter’s safety. As am I, but we can’t go around accusing everybody.

  ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘Of course you do. I was just lashing out. I don’t seem to be able to keep my temper at the moment.’

  ‘Don’t worry. It’s understandable.’ Now it’s my turn to reassure. ‘Let’s wait a day or so. See what happens.’

  She scrapes a hand through her hair and finally relaxes her shoulders. ‘Okay. Oh, I forgot to ask, did you have a nice time with Oliver today?’

  ‘With Oliver?’

  ‘Yes.’ She falters. ‘Did he not come over to see you?’

  ‘Not today, no.’

  ‘Oh.’ Claire’s brow wrinkles. ‘Maybe I got that wrong.’

  ‘Maybe he’ll pop over later?’ I brighten at the thought.

  ‘Yes, maybe.’ She looks distracted.