Stolen

by Lesley Pearse

  ‘The captain should turn the ship around and sail back to New York,’ the American woman yelled out, wild-eyed and beside herself with hysteria. ‘And you should all be ashamed of yourselves for carrying on as though nothing has happened.’

  ‘It would be irresponsible of the captain to even consider adding to the confusion in New York by going there,’ Alice, the salon manager, said sharply, catching hold of the American woman’s flailing arms and trying to push her into a chair. ‘Now, if you feel you must go there, I’m sure that it can be arranged for you to be put ashore at the next port, but unless you have close family there that you need to be with, I suggest you stay away.’

  Lotte remembered being as impressed by Alice’s composure as she was horrified by the American woman’s manic behaviour. From that moment, however, there was no attempt at behaving normally by anyone, for clients were cancelling and other passengers and staff kept bursting in to discuss the events as the full scale of the disaster unfolded.

  As must have happened in shops and offices all around the world, the hairdressers and beauticians clustered around a television in the salon and watched the drama. Lotte was sure she must have seen recorded images of the planes’ moments of impact with the towers at least a hundred times that day.

  And at last she remembered Dale.

  She had flitted between the hairdressing and beauty salons all day – it seemed some of her clients kept their appointments. Lotte remembered how she had her dark hair twisted up on to the top of her head and fastened with a white artificial rose. With her deep tan she looked very exotic.

  It must have been around three in the afternoon when Dale came into the hairdressing salon and flopped down on to a chair, well away from the rest of the girls who were crowding around the television.

  ‘It’s morbid watching that over and over again,’ she said in a loud, disapproving voice. ‘It’s not going to make it any better, and you can bet your life the Americans will keep harping on about it for centuries anyway.’

  ‘Don’t you care?’ Amy, a South African girl, said.

  ‘You think brooding on it shows you care?’ Dale retorted with some sarcasm. ‘I hate all this madness when there’s a tragedy, it’s like people get off on it. Any minute now they’ll be making an appeal for money. Why do they need to do that? There’s no one homeless, cold or hungry. Most will have insurance on anyone who is dead, and money won’t stop them grieving.’

  ‘The wives of the firemen who died should get something,’ someone argued hotly.

  ‘Why?’ Dale asked. ‘They get their widow’s pension like any other woman who loses her husband. We don’t go round with a collection for a woman whose husband has died of a heart attack or been run over going to work. OK, the firemen were brave, but then that’s their job, like soldiers, policemen and all those other dangerous occupations.’

  Lotte half smiled as she recalled how stroppy her friend had been that day. Yet that was perhaps the reason why she hadn’t remembered Dale straight off at the hospital, for she’d been like a different person there, tearful, gentle and placid, certainly not opinionated or outspoken.

  Dale on the cruise had put on a convincing display of being as hard as nails, self-centred, opinionated and just a bit of a bully, even if that was tempered by being beautiful, amusing and charm itself when it suited her. Yet she had actually meant what she said that day, and although it was hardly an appropriate time to speak out so forcefully, she made a lot of sense. She certainly kept her soft side well hidden, but Lotte already knew that she would give her last penny to anyone who really needed it.

  And finally she recalled Scott too. The first memory to pop up was of him coming into the salon wearing only white shorts and a singlet, his skin golden-brown with the sheen of good health. He asked if someone could cut his hair immediately. It must have been on the first or second day, right at the start of the cruise, because she remembered the electric buzz that went around the other girls when they saw him. They were all whispering, asking who he was.

  Lotte stepped forward to cut his hair and he gave her one of his heart-stopping smiles. ‘OK, Barbie Girl,’ he said. ‘Make me less of Lenny the Lion and more Funky Fitness Man.’

  ‘Well?’ Simon said as he turned off the video. ‘Did that do the trick?’

  Lotte nodded. She was a little stunned by so much coming back all at once and needed time to sort through it. ‘I remember Dale now, and what good friends we were. But that day was crazy, people were crying and going on and on about it. I know it was a terrible atrocity, but I didn’t quite understand the depth of the shock and grief. It reminded me of when Lady Di was killed.’

  ‘It was much the same here,’ Adam said. ‘In every pub, café, and shops too, people were glued to TVs.’

  ‘I remember meeting Scott for the first time as well.’ She told them a little about that and they both laughed because they could understand the impact he would have on a crowd of girls. As Simon pointed out, he’d have the same effect on some of their friends.

  ‘So does your memory go beyond September the eleventh?’ Simon asked a little later. ‘Can you remember Christmas of that year?’

  ‘Don’t try to rush her,’ Adam reproved his friend. ‘Let her think about what she’s recalled already today.’

  *

  Dale and Scott arrived at about eight that evening, and they were thrilled to find Lotte had remembered them. Memories came spilling out – a dive they’d got drunk in in Montevideo; the time Scott entered a limbo competition in Jamaica and was stunned to be beaten by a sixteen-stone woman. Dale reminded Lotte of the occasion when the three of them had been in a club in Cape Town, and when Dale couldn’t find Lotte she assumed she’d gone back to the ship. With only ten minutes to go before the ship sailed and no sign of Lotte, Scott decided to run back to the club to check. Lotte had fallen asleep in the cloakroom, and but for Scott would’ve found herself stranded in Africa.

  The stories kept coming, one after another, till Lotte said she had a stitch from laughing so much. Simon cut in then and said it was time Dale and Scott left as Lotte mustn’t overdo it and it was time she went to bed. Dale bristled at his bossiness and reminded Lotte how she had never liked to be told what to do.

  ‘There’ll be other times,’ Lotte reassured her friend. ‘Maybe when you get a day off we could spend it together and catch up?’

  ‘Dale’s very full of herself,’ Simon said after she’d left with Scott. ‘I like her, but she’s one of those people who think the world revolves around them.’

  ‘She might come across like that, but there’s a lot more to her,’ Lotte said in her defence. She had noticed Dale seemed a little resentful that Simon and Adam were friends of much longer standing than she was: every time one of them brought up an event in the past, Dale tried to top it with an anecdote from the cruise. ‘I think she just feels a bit left out. I mean, it was she who recognized me in the paper and went to the police and my parents. She would have liked the opportunity to look after me.’

  ‘Only to make herself feel more important,’ Simon said cattily.

  ‘No, because she cares about me,’ Lotte said firmly. ‘Now, don’t be nasty about her, or we’ll fall out.’

  ‘So what about Scott?’ Simon changed the subject. ‘He’s a good-looking bloke. Was there anything between you?’

  Lotte grinned. ‘I’d like to have had something,’ she said. ‘Both Dale and I fancied him, but so did all the girls, so we settled for being his friend, and he proved to be a very good one.’

  ‘I’d say he likes you more than just a friend,’ Simon said. ‘I’d put money on it.’

  Lotte just laughed. She didn’t believe that. Simon had always been of the opinion that all men fancied her.

  On Sunday David drove over from Chichester to see her, and Simon and Adam invited him to stay for lunch. He looked very handsome in a pale blue, open-necked shirt that matched his eyes and teamed perfectly with his cream chinos.

  ‘How long wil
l you have to stay cooped up indoors?’ he asked as Lotte laid the table in the lounge.

  She’d asked herself that same question earlier that morning when she saw the sun shining yet again and people taking a short cut through the alley down on to the promenade. She knew Simon didn’t even think it was safe for her to sit out on the balcony, and while she didn’t mind so much for herself, she felt sorry she couldn’t go on out there now with David as his question suggested he’d rather be outside. ‘I don’t know. Until the police find whoever was responsible, I suppose,’ she said with a sigh. ‘But I don’t expect anyone to stay in with me all the time.’

  ‘It would be a pleasure to stay in with you,’ David replied with a wide smile. ‘But it would be even nicer to take you out for dinner, or a walk along the promenade.’

  Lotte took a step nearer him and kissed him on the cheek. ‘How very gallant,’ she said teasingly.

  He caught hold of her two arms and held her for a moment. ‘I haven’t been able to think of anything else but you since I found you on the beach,’ he said, his eyes looking right into hers. ‘I told myself at first that it was the mystery surrounding you, but I know it’s not just that now.’

  ‘David, I could’ve done all kinds of terrible things,’ she said. She felt she had to warn him off even if she did really like him. ‘We know I’ve had a baby, but I might be married, I could even have done something criminal. I wouldn’t want you to become involved until we know about me.’

  ‘I don’t believe you’ve ever done anything bad,’ he said, lifting one hand to caress her cheek. ‘But even if you have, I want to be around to support you when it all comes out.’

  It was Lotte who moved to kiss him. She couldn’t stop herself because his mouth looked so soft and appealing and his hand on her face was making her heart race. It was the kind of sweet, gentle, lingering kiss that suggested passion was waiting in the wings.

  ‘Ummm,’ he said as she broke away, ‘that was delicious. Any chance of seconds?’

  Simon came into the room at that point and looked at them sharply as if he sensed something was going on. ‘Lunch will be ready pretty soon. Would you like a beer, David?’

  David followed Simon out into the kitchen and Lotte finished laying the table. As she went back to the kitchen to get some serving spoons, she overheard Simon talking about her.

  ‘She needs to rest after lunch. The doctor told me it is as important that she regains her strength as it is to regain her memory. You are welcome to stay here while she has a snooze, but I doubt she’ll go and lie down if you’re here.’

  Lotte knew Simon was right, she did tire easily, but she didn’t like him telling David he should go. It was so disturbing having so much blank in her memory, and it felt good to be with David who she knew was not part of her past.

  But she wasn’t brave enough to challenge Simon’s authority, so she said nothing.

  Over lunch Lotte found herself warming still further to David. He was such easy company; she supposed that was coming from such a big family. There was real interest in his eyes as Adam talked about windowdressing and interior design. He asked questions, and there was none of that talking-down, homophobic angle many straight men tended to get into when they were speaking to gays. He had similar tastes in music to the boys, laughed at the same kind of jokes, and appreciated their cooking.

  Adam had used a recipe for a pudding he’d never tried before and it had some very odd-sounding ingredients. He asked David whether he would like to try it, or go for the safer option of fresh fruit.

  ‘I’ll try anything once, except incest and Morris dancing,’ David responded, and Adam and Simon roared with laughter.

  ‘I can’t claim that as my own, it’s an Oscar Wilde,’ David admitted with an honesty which pleased the other two still more.

  ‘He’s great,’ Adam whispered when David went off to the bathroom while they were having coffee. ‘And we can see you really like him too, so at least one thing in your life has some promise.’

  ‘More than one, I’ve got you two again,’ she replied with a wide smile. ‘And I’ve got a feeling everything’s going to come back to me very soon, the baddies will be punished and I can get back to work and normality.’

  On the Tuesday, Scott popped in to see Lotte on his day off.

  ‘Dale was hoping she could get the day off too, but Marisa wouldn’t wear it,’ he explained. ‘In fact she isn’t getting any free day this week. Marisa is making her pay for other time she’s had off.’

  ‘When she came to the hospital?’ Lotte asked.

  Scott nodded. ‘She’s got it in for Dale,’ he said glumly. ‘I don’t know what her grievance is but she’s always picking on her. I tried to talk to Marisa about it once, but I got nowhere.’

  ‘She probably fancies you,’ Lotte suggested, ‘and thinks you’ve got a thing for Dale.’

  ‘She’s a good friend, that’s all,’ Scott said.

  ‘I don’t suppose she believes that’s all it is,’ Lotte laughed. ‘Besides, Dale’s gorgeous, good at her job and probably capable of running Marchwood Spa. That’s enough reason for the woman to resent her.’

  ‘You were always good at seeing the whole picture,’ Scott said thoughtfully. ‘You are a great peacemaker too. When all this is over and you start thinking about working again, it would be fantastic if you’d come to Marchwood.’

  ‘I doubt Marisa would welcome me,’ Lotte laughed. ‘She’d think I was another member of your harem, and that Dale would be even more threatening to her with an ally in tow.’

  ‘Could you also be thinking you don’t want to work long hours because of a new man on the horizon?’ Scott raised one blond eyebrow quizzically.

  Lotte giggled and blushed. ‘Do you mean David? I hardly know him.’

  ‘You’ve given the game away with that blush,’ Scott teased her. ‘My heart is broken now, I had such high hopes for us two.’

  Lotte laughed. One of the best parts of regaining memories of both him and Dale was to find how much she loved them both. If she could pick her own brother and sister, they would be the ones she’d choose.

  ‘That’s her.’ The older man at the wheel of the stationary blue transit van pointed to the dark-haired girl wearing white jeans and a red tee-shirt coming out of the drive of Marchwood Manor and going towards the bus stop. ‘Nice tits and bum. Even better looking than the photo we’ve been given too.’

  It was Wednesday morning, eleven days since Lotte had been released from hospital. ‘How do we know she’s going to visit the blonde one?’ his younger companion asked.

  ‘We don’t, but the boss is sure she’ll go there as it’s her first day off since the blonde came out of hospital.’

  The younger man chewed on his nails. ‘I don’t mind passing on the info where the girl is staying, but I don’t like the idea of snatching her,’ he admitted.

  Bill glanced sideways at the younger man, a little surprised at his reluctance. He knew Alex had done worse things in the past than just bundling a girl into a van, and as he had an expensive drug habit he would be a fool to pass up earning a grand for something so easy.

  Bill was thirty-eight. He’d been released from prison just six months ago and he needed some money to get over to Spain. He had a job lined up there as security officer in a night club and it was a chance to start out fresh. He neither knew nor cared what they wanted the blonde girl for, that wasn’t his problem; all he had to do was deliver her. The first part of that was finding out where she was.

  ‘It’ll be a doddle,’ Bill said, then, seeing the bus coming along behind him, he turned on the ignition and prepared to follow once the dark girl was on it. ‘But don’t you go yellow-bellied on me if we have a chance to get her later today. I need that money.’

  ‘I won’t back out, I can’t afford to,’ Alex said as he watched the girl get on to the bus. He was twenty-eight, his girl had left him, his family didn’t want to know him any more, and he was in danger of being evicted from his flat.
He wanted to go into rehab and try to get straight. His life was a wreck, but a grand would straighten it out.

  Once on the bus, Dale busied herself sending texts to her sister, brothers and a few friends on the ride into Brighton. She wished her parents would join the twenty-first century and get a mobile phone, but they refused, saying they couldn’t see the point when they had a perfectly good land line. This meant Dale had to phone them from the hotel call box on Sundays, a nuisance because she liked to go out to the pub on Sundays and they always got ratty if she forgot to ring. Texts were her favourite way of keeping in touch; in just a few words she could confirm she was alive and well and thinking about them without the need for small talk.

  She was looking forward to spending the day with Lotte. Last Wednesday her day off had been cancelled by Marisa because a large group of ladies had booked into the spa for the day, and the other beauticians couldn’t manage without Dale. Marisa pointed out that as she’d had such a lot of time off because of Lotte, it was about time she made it up.

  She’d been over to see Lotte with Scott in the evening on three occasions. But Simon and Adam were always there, and they got on her nerves talking about people she didn’t know. It was like they wanted Lotte all to themselves, and didn’t think anyone else mattered to her. Then there was David. He hadn’t visited while Dale had been there, but Lotte always mentioned him. That made her a bit jealous too, even though she knew she was being mean-spirited.

  Poor Lotte still hadn’t remembered the rape in Ushuaia, or anything about what happened when she left the cruise ship, and she was frantic about her baby, even though she remembered nothing of its birth.

  DI Bryan had followed up hundreds of claims from the public that they’d seen Lotte in the last year, and even more from people who reported hearing a baby cry, or had seen a woman with a baby who they felt was acting suspiciously. But every such claim turned out to be a dead end. He had told Dale that he felt it was extremely unlikely the baby was alive.