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Home Truths Page 30

by Susan Lewis


  ‘But you still owe tons of money and I wanted to help … She told me … I thought …’

  ‘Ssh,’ Angie soothed, as Grace broke into sobs. She kissed her ice-cold forehead and pulled the blanket tightly around her. ‘Lois told Emma everything,’ she whispered, ‘and you mustn’t be angry with her for that, because if she hadn’t … This woman who contacted you online, she’s no friend of Dad’s, she’s …’

  Grace pressed her face into her mother’s shoulder and started to cry with wretched despair. ‘I miss him, Mum, I miss him so much. It’s not fair that he had to die.’

  Crying herself, Angie murmured, ‘I know, sweetheart, I know. I wish he was still here too, but we know what he’d say if he was, don’t we?’

  Grace waited, hardly breathing as though half expecting to hear her dad’s voice speak.

  ‘He’d say, what are my two favourite girls doing out here in the freezing cold at this time of night? Get yourselves indoors now or I’ll cancel Christmas.’

  Grace choked on a sob. ‘He would say something dumb like that,’ she sniffed. ‘He was always making us laugh with his silly dad jokes.’

  Smiling through her own tears, Angie stood up and pulled Grace shivering and shaking to her feet. ‘Can you walk?’ she asked. ‘I’m afraid you’re too big for me to carry.’

  Grace nodded. ‘I expect if Dad was here, he’d carry me.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve no doubt of it.’

  As they stepped out on to the dewy grass Angie saw a figure getting up from the swing. She heard Grace gasp and knew that she too, for one awful, wonderful moment, thought it was Steve.

  Martin was holding a duvet that Emma must have given him. ‘Here we are,’ he said, coming to wrap it around Grace.

  ‘This is Martin,’ Angie said softly. ‘It’s his flat we’re staying in.’

  Grace nodded, but she was too cold and weak to say more, as folding her more tightly into the quilt, Martin scooped her gently into his arms.

  He carried her all the way back to Emma’s where Melvin, Lois and her mother were waiting, and as he laid her down on the sofa Zac climbed on top to snuggle into her.

  ‘How did you know where she was?’ Angie asked him.

  ‘I saw her go over there,’ he replied. ‘I was watching from the window when she went over the footbridge, so I followed her. She told me to get lost, and that she’d kill me if I told anyone where she was.’

  ‘You never do as you’re told,’ Grace murmured.

  ‘I know,’ he said cheerily. As everyone smiled with relief, he added, ‘It’s my turn to hide next.’

  Angie didn’t see Martin leave, she only knew he’d gone when she came back from the kitchen with a trayful of cocoa and Becky said quietly, ‘He called a taxi before he went over to wait for you and Grace. I don’t think he wanted to make a fuss about going.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  After spending most of the next day at the police station, Angie and Grace returned to the flat exhausted from all the questions and waiting around. It had been a gruelling five hours in spite of how kind everyone was, so finding that Martha had left a shepherd’s pie for them to heat up made them want to hug her.

  After turning on the oven Angie went back to the sitting room to find Grace slumped on the sofa, her eyes closed and a clump of damp tissue in one hand, nothing in the other where her phone usually was. Angie now knew all about the contract that had been renewed for Grace, and how it had been used to intimidate and terrorize her. The police had taken the phone hoping it would help them to trace this Anya character, although they were certain it wasn’t her real name. No connection to Shalik had been established, nor had the ownership of the old bingo hall Sasha had told them about. Though the property had been quickly traced, it had been found empty, although with plenty of evidence of the repurposing of its function and signs of a hasty departure.

  It made Angie sick to her stomach to think that Grace could have been one of the helpless girls who’d probably been bundled into vans and driven away at speed last night to God only knew where. The sheer horror of it threatened to overwhelm her; Grace so easily could have shared their fate.

  Thank God a thousand times and more that she hadn’t followed the instructions she’d been sent last night. Instead, terror-stricken and filled with dread, she’d thought of her dad and taken herself to the chill-out shed.

  Was that Steve looking out for them again?

  Attempting to sidestep what felt like a juggernaut of what-ifs coming right at her, Angie forced herself to focus on the here and now. The oven was on, they had food, and Grace was safe.

  One step at a time.

  Going to sit next to her daughter, she took her hand and entwined their fingers. Grace’s eyes flickered open. The fear was still there, bright flecks in the clouds of exhaustion. She’d done well with the police, had answered their questions as clearly and honestly as she was able, and had gone through so many photographs of men and women that it had been hard to distinguish one from another in the end. She hadn’t picked any out, not even Shalik when his face had come up, but as far as Angie knew Grace had never actually seen him.

  ‘But you’re going to question him?’ she’d persisted when Grace had left the room with a WPC. ‘I’m telling you, he’s behind this.’

  ‘We’re following several lines of inquiry,’ she was told in a manner that made her certain they were holding something back.

  Surely to God they weren’t as corrupt as Shalik.

  Grace said, ‘Did you tell anyone at school why I wasn’t in today?’

  Angie shook her head. ‘I just said you were coming down with something.’

  Grace studied her mother’s face as if she was trying to figure something out. After a while she sat up and put her arms around her. ‘I’m sorry for causing so much trouble,’ she murmured.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Angie said, hugging her back. ‘The main thing is that you’re here now and nothing bad happened to you.’ There was no point admitting that she was still ricocheting through the horrors that had been so narrowly escaped. It was as though she was compelled in some appalling, relentless way to see the near-disaster through to all possible ends, each one worse than the last.

  ‘Mum, you’re shaking,’ Grace said, pulling back to look at her.

  ‘Am I? Probably just tired and hungry. Would you like to have a bath before we eat?’

  Grace nodded. ‘If you think it’s OK to use the hot water again. I already had a shower this morning.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ Angie replied, certain Martin would say it was. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him today – she’d hardly seen or spoken to anyone, having been so long with the police – but at some point she must thank him for all that he’d done last night. It seemed she was constantly thanking him, becoming more and more indebted to him, and it was starting to make her uneasy.

  As she watched Grace pad through to the bedroom she went to answer a ring on the doorbell, expecting to see Emma, or maybe Martha. To her surprise it was Andee, holding up a bottle of wine, as if they were friends who often dropped in on each other.

  ‘Thought this might be welcome,’ Andee smiled, ‘but if I’m interrupting I can come back another time.’

  As Angie stood aside to let her in, she was trying in her exhausted state to brace herself for bad news. ‘If it’s about Liam,’ she said, ‘I don’t think I can take …’

  ‘It’s not about him,’ Andee interrupted gently, and went through to the sitting room. ‘Is your daughter here?’ she asked as Angie came in after her.

  ‘She’s in the bathroom,’ Angie replied. She wondered if Andee had been to this flat before, and felt certain she must have with her and Martin being on such good terms. Was she aware that he still loved her and wanted her back? Was it ever likely to happen? Did she really need to think about this now? ‘Shall I open that?’ she offered, nodding towards the wine.

  As they went into the kitchen Andee said, ‘I’ve just come from the police st
ation, so I’ve got a fair idea of what happened last night. I’m glad it ended the way it did.’

  Feeling a heady rerun of relief drag her from the juggernaut’s path, Angie said, ‘Thank you, so am I.’ She watched Andee take two glasses from a cupboard, and realized she was glad to have her here. She reached into a drawer for the corkscrew. This was someone she could talk to who understood police procedure, and who would know what she should do next.

  When the wine was poured Andee raised her glass and touched it to Angie’s. ‘It’s not easy being a parent,’ she said kindly, ‘especially a single parent who’s no doubt still grieving for a much-loved husband.’

  Angie swallowed hard. ‘Please don’t make me cry,’ she whispered shakily.

  Andee sipped her wine and waited for Angie to struggle back her tears and do the same. ‘So, the real reason I’m here,’ she began, putting down her glass. ‘I can speak frankly with you?’

  Angie nodded. ‘Please do.’

  ‘OK, at this moment in time there are certain things the Dean Valley force are not at liberty to share with you. However, they feel it would be good for you to know at least some of them, but in the strictest confidence.’

  Angie regarded her carefully, unable to imagine what might be coming next.

  ‘Apparently the National Crime Agency has been aware of this Anya for some time, although she uses several names. They call her the Regrut, which is Croatian for recruiter, because she’s hired by traffickers – people, arms, drugs – to trawl the Internet looking for vulnerable kids. She studies their profiles, watches what they post, how they react to other posts, until she’s told to start hooking them in. This makes her, of course, one of the very worst kinds of human being, but sadly there are a lot out there like her.’

  Angie shuddered as she recalled how unguarded Grace had been on social media about losing her father. It had come out today, while they were with the police, that she’d even posted information – feelings – about how difficult her mother was finding it all, how they’d lost their house and how much she wanted to help …

  ‘Grace wouldn’t have had any idea that someone like that was watching her,’ Andee said gently, ‘kids rarely do, and some of these victims are way older and more sophisticated than her.’

  ‘Do you know yet if this woman is connected to Roland Shalik?’ Angie asked.

  Andee shook her head. ‘I haven’t heard that specifically, but apparently he is a person of interest to the NCA, which is why you’re not getting as much information as you might like about what’s happened. Their focus will be on a much bigger, long-term investigation and they won’t want local police getting in the way with a lesser case – this is how they will see Grace’s, I’m afraid – especially if they’re close to a breakthrough.’

  Feeling a tightness in her head, Angie said, ‘But what happened to Grace was an attempted abduction.’

  Andee didn’t deny it.

  Imagining Grace walking into the lion’s den of her own free will, Angie had to take a breath to steady herself. ‘And are they?’ she managed to ask. ‘Close to a breakthrough?’

  Andee shook her head. ‘I don’t know, but what I can tell you is how important it is for things to go ahead without Grace being involved in any way. Should it get out that she might have identified someone in one of the gangs there could be reprisals, and that’s not what any of us want.’

  Knowing exactly what the reprisals could be, Angie felt even more horror burning inside her as she recalled yelling into Shalik’s voicemail that she knew he had Grace. Dully she said, ‘You live your life trying to do your best, to be a decent citizen and all the time these dark forces, truly evil people … You don’t even know they’re there until you’re suddenly sucked into their world, and we’ve already been there once, for God’s sake.’

  Andee’s eyes softened with empathy. ‘Everyone’s doing their best to protect Grace,’ she said. ‘I’m told that last night’s events have already been struck from the database and the search for Anya, the Regrut, as it relates to Grace, has gone away. We must let the NCA do the job their way.’ Digging into her pocket, she pulled out a mobile phone and handed it over. ‘Grace’s,’ she said.

  Angie looked at it. She knew now that the contract had been extended to maintain contact with Grace, and it had been done in her name, another twist of the knife she’d like to stick in the woman who’d preyed on her daughter. Putting it down, she said, ‘With all that’s happened, all you’ve just told me … I can hardly believe how lucky I am to have got her back.’

  ‘You’re lucky she didn’t go,’ Andee corrected. ‘And the reason she didn’t is because she knew, in her heart, it wasn’t the right thing to do. She might have told herself she’d do anything to help her mum, to save you all from the difficulties you’re experiencing, but she knew, because her mother had taught her right from wrong, that what she was about to do wasn’t the answer.’

  Angie could sense the juggernaut again, and took another sip of wine as if this might stop it.

  ‘It can be very hard for children Grace’s age,’ Andee continued, ‘to understand fully what needs to be done to solve problems.’ Her expression turned wry. ‘Of course none of us would be so foolish as to tell them this, because we’re aware that they know best.’

  At last Angie managed a smile. ‘She’s usually such a sensible girl,’ she said, ‘and I guess in the end she was, but she still went to that studio …’ She took a breath as the truth of that hit her again. ‘I’ll thank God, the stars, the entire universe until my dying day that they didn’t keep her then. Do you know why they didn’t?’

  ‘The most probable answer is that Lois upset their plans. Having two teenagers go missing at the same time would have created a media frenzy they really wouldn’t have welcomed. But don’t torment yourself trying to get inside the heads of the Shaliks of this world. They don’t think like us, much less behave like us.’

  Accepting the truth of that, Angie only wished she knew how to handle this better, as more awful thoughts crowded in on her. ‘Do you believe,’ she said hoarsely, ‘that Shalik was behind this?’

  Andee took a breath and let it go slowly. ‘I’d say it’s possible,’ she replied, ‘even probable, but there’s no evidence I know of at this stage to support it.’

  Angie slumped back against the cupboards and let her head fall forward. ‘He’s out to get us,’ she muttered shakily. ‘My whole family, because I’m sure he was involved in grooming and corrupting Liam. I can’t prove that either, but I just know that he was the puppetmaster making everything happen. And what about Steve?’ Her head came up. ‘Was Shalik behind that too? Did he order those thugs to do what they did?’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s the same answer,’ Andee replied. ‘It’s possible, but with no evidence to link him to it, and no one coming forward to provide any …’

  Angie sighed heavily. ‘It’s about his father,’ she said quietly. ‘He’s getting back at us for the way Hari treated Steve like a son.’ Her eyes closed as she wondered how much more of this she could take. ‘Can you imagine being so full of hate that you’d destroy someone’s life and then continue trying to destroy his family after he’d gone?’

  Apparently sensing her fatigue, Andee said, ‘Come on, let’s go and sit down.’

  Following her into the sitting room, Angie sank on to the sofa and watched as Andee refilled their glasses.

  ‘How does Grace seem to be coping?’ Andee asked, taking the love seat.

  Angie pushed a hand through her hair. ‘It’s hard to tell when she’s so tired – neither of us got much sleep last night – but what concerns me most is how this is going to affect her future. I’ve been advised to get her some help, especially for her grief, but advice is one thing, making it happen is another altogether.’

  Andee nodded. ‘I expect you’re worried about how under-resourced the mental health services are, and of course they are, but there are other good organizations you can turn to. Winston’s Wish is one;
its whole raison d’etre is to help bereaved children. I’ll find out more about them if you like, and send you some links.’

  Angie’s smile was weak as she nodded. Of course she’d have found the charities herself once she’d started looking. Nevertheless it was good of Andee to take an interest in a family she didn’t really know. It had the vague effect of making Angie feel less afraid, less isolated than if she and Emma were trying to cope with this alone.

  Andee said, ‘I’m going to Sellybrook Prison at the end of next week to talk to one of Steve’s killers. I’m not sure how much I’ll get out of him, or if he has any idea where Liam is now, but the fact that he’s agreed to see me suggests he might know something.’

  ‘Which one is it?’ Angie asked hoarsely.

  ‘Sean Prince.’

  Angie flinched.

  ‘You know him?’

  Angie shook her head. ‘Only the name …’ She took a breath as the horrific memories came flooding back.

  ‘Sorry,’ Andee said, ‘maybe tonight wasn’t the best time to mention it.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Angie told her. ‘I just … There’s so much to take in.’ And none of it, not even the fact that the NCA has their sights on Shalik, gets us away from how much debt I’m in. That still had to be resolved, and though perspective was helpful in its way, for of course Grace and the safety of her children came first, it had no practical use when it came to getting their lives back on track.

  Rising to her feet, Andee said, ‘I should go, but I’ll be in touch as soon as I have some news, and if you want to call me at any time you have my number.’

  After she’d gone Angie stood staring at the glasses they’d drunk from, aware that the wine had done nothing to relax her; if anything she was feeling worse now than she had before.

  Tiredness, she reminded herself. She needed to sleep, or at least find a better way to switch off for a while.

  She also needed to eat.

  Going to the oven where the shepherd’s pie was now keeping warm on a lower setting, she left it where it was and went to check on Grace. She wasn’t surprised to find her curled up under the sumptuous duvet on Martin’s bed, fast asleep with her face cupped in both hands the way she’d always slept as a child, so she tucked her in tighter and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

 

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