Child Taken: A chilling page-turner you will be unable to put down

by Darren Young

  It was the one that told me that she had been taken.

  When the divers searched the water that morning, I watched them, but I wasn’t ever worried they’d find her. I never expected them to drag her body from the waves. You don’t find someone when they aren’t there.

  When the police tried to tell me she might be dead, or when people tried to persuade me to move on, to get some closure and stop trying to fool myself – that’s why I refused to accept what they said. It’s why I fought them.

  I knew they were wrong.

  And yet, though I knew she was alive, I still didn’t expect to see her again.

  The voice also told me that whoever had taken her wouldn’t bring her back.

  You don’t go to those lengths to take a child only to do that. They were always going to carry on, keep her hidden until no one was looking for her any longer. So I prayed – although that’s not the best choice of word because I stopped actually praying – that she would be all right, that whoever took her had given her a good home and raised her to be a decent person.

  I thought that was as much as I could possibly hope for.

  Until that journalist turned up.

  What brought her to me? She was looking for another child, in a different era; a different place. Another missing child that had no business with my daughter. She had no reason to look for me, let alone find me and talk to me, a crazy old woman in a mental home; one who can’t let go of the past.

  Yet she did. She wrote that article.

  She believed me.

  And now, because of her and against all the odds, I am going to see my Jessica again.

  I just know it.

  All these years, years sitting in this chair, looking out on to that beach, I knew that I couldn’t ever give up; not completely. That voice deep inside said I had to believe there was a chance. However unlikely it seemed.

  And now I know why.

  Because she’s coming back.

  My daughter’s finally coming back.

  72 | Laura

  Laura indicated that she was taking the next exit but they were moving so slowly, even though they were so close to the slip road, it took them another ten minutes to reach the roundabout at the top of it.

  The heater was coughing out hot air on full power. Outside, the conditions had become atrocious, a blizzard of strong winds and swirling snow that covered everything except the tracks made by the car tyres. All the drivers in each vehicle could do was to follow the one in front, placing their wheels with absolute precision into the grooves in the snow and hoping there was no need for a sudden stop, because that had become almost impossible.

  Everyone was relying on everyone else to keep moving.

  Laura’s head ached from the concentration needed to carry on and the stress of the journey to that point. The three hours she had anticipated had become a morning and most of the afternoon; it had now turned dark and the snow on the roads was already starting to freeze.

  The speed with which the snow had fallen had caught the local authorities out, and, although some roads had been gritted, this had little effect because the snow had become so deep so quickly. Every road leading from the roundabout was equally chaotic; each of the four exits were jammed with stationary vehicles and bright brake lights.

  They took the fourth one, the single carriageway that led to Laura’s town. As they edged along, with all the other cars, they saw abandoned vehicles at the side of the road, where they had either got stuck or else the driver had left their car and made the rest of the journey on foot.

  Danni shook her head. ‘This is bad.’

  Laura nodded. Danni had been asleep from the petrol station to the motorway exit; not a good sleep, a fitful one where she squirmed around, occasionally mumbling to herself, the odd moan and indistinguishable word as she drifted in and out of the chaos inside her head. Laura had been happy to drive without having to talk; it had been hard enough to drive with her pounding head as it was.

  ‘We’ll be home soon,’ she said.

  Danni sniffed dismissively. ‘Home?’

  ‘I didn’t mean—’

  ‘Your home, your parents. I don’t have either, remember?’

  ‘That’s not what—’

  ‘No!’ snapped Danni. ‘It is what you meant. It is your home. And don’t tell me how hard it must be for me, or that you can imagine how it feels. Because you can’t and you never will.’

  ‘Danni, I—’

  ‘Your mum and dad will take care of everything now. Just like they always have.’

  Laura glared at her as they slowed to a halt behind the lorry in front. ‘That’s not fair.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘This is a story for you. Don’t deny it. It’s why you’ve avoided going to the police. It’s why you wanted to come here. It’s all to protect your precious fucking story. You can send it off to your paper to tell the world and then live off it for the rest of your life.’

  ‘Hang on—’

  Danni cut in and Laura let her. She knew she needed to get this off her chest whether she wanted her to or not. ‘You’ll never know what it’s like to find out your whole life has been bullshit! That everyone you know, or thought you knew, was just … fucking bullshit!’

  ‘How could I?’

  ‘You live this sheltered life. Everyone there to do whatever you need. Popular at school, lots of friends, good grades, good job, steady boyfriends, you name it.’

  Laura bit her lip. She wanted to tell Danni that she didn’t know anything about her at all. That she had tried for months to get the good job her grades – her hard work – deserved but that in the end she’d had to rely on her dad to help her and had never been allowed to forget it. She wanted to tell her that she’d lost that job because she’d put the story first. That she had put helping her and Sandra ahead of her job. And she’d done all she could to stop Danni destroying her relationship with her dad before they knew the whole truth.

  She wanted to tell her that she hadn’t had a proper date, let alone a boyfriend, for more than a year because her dad scared all of them off.

  And she wanted to point out that she’d never asked Danni to read her bloody article and contact her in the first place.

  But Laura didn’t want an argument any more than Danni needed one. This was about her saying all the things that had bounced around in her head for days, maybe weeks, so Laura let her talk.

  ‘My real parents couldn’t even look after me for one day.’

  Laura gulped.

  ‘You have your perfect family. I go from the one that can’t look after a child to the one who can’t have a child and take someone else’s. Then when, shock, it all goes wrong, they … ’

  Danni stopped, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  The snow was so deep. All of the cars heading in the same direction as Laura were having the same difficulties and the drivers were carefully shunting forward and then braking gently as the red lights lit up on the car in front. Laura had to put the car into second gear to get up the incline ahead of them and the lorry in front struggled more than she did and she worried for a second that its wheels would lock and it would slide back down into them.

  Danni sat with her head buried in her hands.

  ‘Christ, I didn’t mean that,’ she said after a few minutes.

  Laura shook her head.

  ‘You aren’t the one I should be shouting at.’

  ‘You needed to let it out,’ Laura told her.

  ‘Not at you, though.’ Danni scrubbed at her eyes.

  ‘Forget it.’

  ‘I couldn’t have got this far without you.’ Danni held out her hand and Laura took it. Danni gripped it tightly until Laura needed to change gear. ‘I didn’t mean those things.’

  ‘I said forget it.’

  Behind them, ten cars back, a black car crawled in the line of vehicles, and when Laura and the car behind her both turned off down a smaller, narrower road a mile later, a
road that led towards the coast, the black car followed but stayed back, out of Laura’s view.

  On this road, where there had been far fewer cars, deep snow had already built up on both sides and there were no wet black grooves to drive on. Laura felt her wheels slide over hardened snow and she let the VW crawl in first gear and left a larger gap – a few car-lengths – in front of her, until after another mile they turned again and then one last time, and then the wheels were crunching through fresh, undisturbed white powder and they reached a small cul-de-sac with four picturesque houses and a field to the side that led down to the sea.

  It was like a postcard. Three of the houses had lights on, and thin plumes of smoke drifted from their chimneys. Everything was white, except for the soft orange glow of the street-lamp. Heavy snow covered the roofs and all the trees and the tops of the fences.

  ‘We’re here,’ said Laura.

  When they reached her house Laura got out, kicking two feet of snow away from the base of the black iron gates to be able to move them. As she climbed back inside, the door opened and Helen stood on the step watching as Laura slowly rolled down the slope and eased to a halt next to her mother’s car.

  Helen ran outside to greet her. ‘I’ve been worried sick.’ She hugged her tightly. As she moved back from the embrace, snow covering the tops of her Wellington boots, she looked at the car. ‘My goodness.’

  Laura turned to look too. ‘You should see it in the light.’

  Danni got out of the other side and stood awkwardly until Helen’s attention was diverted from the car’s damage and she smiled at her.

  ‘You’re Danni.’

  Danni nodded and smiled back.

  ‘Now let’s get in out of the cold. You must be starving.’

  A little way up the street, the black car had rolled into the cul-de-sac but parked at the top, near the entrance, and switched off its lights. Its driver watched from that distance, looking down at the four houses, and one in particular, as Helen Grainger greeted the girls on the drive.

  He watched as the three of them went into the house and closed the door.

  73 | Laura

  ‘Where are you? Hang on.’

  Helen stepped into the hallway so that she could hear properly. The kettle was boiling and a saucepan of soup warmed on the hob. She came back into the kitchen after a minute and gave it a stir.

  ‘He’s on his way,’ she said to the girls, who were sitting at the table. Laura’s mother had given Danni one of her thick cardigans and Laura had fetched a jumper from her room. ‘He wanted to be back for when you got here,’ she continued. ‘But there’s been an accident on the bypass, and they asked him to stay and help.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘He’s been worried half to death. And now most of the roads are blocked.’

  ‘It’s a nightmare out there,’ said Danni.

  Helen took the soup from the heat and sliced up a crusty loaf for them; she left them to eat while she gathered extra blankets from the airing cupboard, made up the bed in the spare room, and filled the bathroom with fresh towels. When she came back down, they had almost finished, and she tried to give them more soup but Laura shook her head.

  ‘Mum, stop fussing. We ate on the way.’

  Helen went to the window instead. ‘It’s getting worse out there. I hope your dad’s not stuck.’

  Danni smiled at Laura and used the bread to mop up her remaining soup. There was a familiar whining from the utility room; Laura let Mimark into the kitchen and he playfully danced around them, flopping on to his back every so often to let Danni tickle his belly.

  ‘He likes you,’ laughed Laura.

  ‘They usually growl at me.’

  Outside, the snow had settled over their tyre tracks and a drift was building up against the wall around the driveway. Helen put a cup of tea in front of them and left the room, leaving Mimark to enjoy the extra attention. Danni bent down to play with him until her back felt stiff and she stood and stretched, unable to stifle a yawn.

  ‘It’s been a long day,’ said Laura, and walked to the window. She could tell from the way a few flecks danced in front of the street-light that the snow had almost stopped falling.

  ‘So what now?’ said Danni.

  ‘We wait for my dad to get back,’ said Laura confidently, ‘and see what he says.’

  Helen put her head around the door. ‘The fire’s on in the living room,’ she announced. ‘Do you want anything? More tea, toast, hot chocolate?’

  Danni looked at Laura.

  ‘Hot chocolate sounds good, Mum.’

  ‘Two?’ She looked at Danni, who nodded. ‘Coming up.’

  Laura led Danni to the front of the house, into the huge living room with an open fireplace and a portrait of the Grainger family hanging above it. It had been painted by a local artist when Laura was fifteen, and had been Helen’s present for her husband’s fiftieth birthday; it took pride of place in the house. Danni looked at it before she sat down on one of the two large brown sofas that faced each other. Laura sat on the other one, feeling guilty about the picture: smiling, happy family portrait faces that the artist had made even happier than they were on the photograph he had painted from.

  ‘It’s nice,’ said Danni, sensing her discomfort.

  The fire began to spark and spit as the flames took hold of the dry logs that Helen had put on it. She had also put a fresh blanket on each sofa, and Danni covered her legs with hers.

  Laura’s mother brought in two steaming cups of hot chocolate, topped with cream, and a plate of biscuits, and put them on the table while Mimark spotted an opportunity and followed her through the open door and found a cosy spot by the fire.

  Outside, the wind had picked up again and the few flakes of snow still in the air were being blown around like confetti rather than falling to the ground. Helen walked over to the window, looked out and pulled the curtains together before joining her daughter on the sofa and asking all kinds of questions of Danni.

  ‘It’s not an interrogation, Mum.’

  Danni smiled and Helen apologised, although Laura was glad she’d avoided asking anything about her parents or home life. But it was still a relief for Laura when she heard the engine of a car, the clunking of the iron gates, a car door closing and then the crunch of tyres on snow. Helen stopped her questioning and stood up expectantly. They heard the sound of feet stamping outside the back door and then the door open.

  Robert burst in, his face full of concern. He looked at his daughter and ran to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly. ‘Thank God you’re all right.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad.’

  He held her at arm’s length, his hands on her shoulders and looked at her. ‘I’m just glad you’re safe. It sounds like you were very lucky.’

  He looked at Danni, who had stood up.

  ‘Dad, this is Danni. Danni, my dad.’

  ‘Hello, Mr Grainger.’

  ‘Robert, please,’ he said, and shook her hand warmly.

  Everyone sat down, Laura’s father next to her with his arm around her shoulder. He told them that the roads were getting so bad that they would have to be closed if the snow started to fall heavily again. Eventually, he began to talk about what had happened.

  ‘I couldn’t believe it when your mum told me.’

  Laura nodded. She had little appetite to go through it again but she sensed he wanted more detail.

  ‘We’re safe now,’ she said. ‘Can we talk about what to do next?’

  ‘Call the police, surely?’ said Helen. Danni agreed.

  ‘One hundred per cent,’ said Laura’s father, nodding too. He looked at his watch; it was after eight o’clock. He stood up and took the home phone from the cradle and dialled a number.

  ‘Keith Houghton, please?’

  He stepped into the hall. They could hear him from the living room.

  ‘Dad’s known him for years,’ Helen told them.

  ‘Yes … yes. OK,’ they heard Robert say
. Danni looked at Laura, who smiled at her reassuringly. ‘OK,’ said Robert. ‘OK, I’ll do that.’

  He stepped back into the living room.

  ‘Keith is dealing with the accident. They’ve got everyone out because of the weather and there’s only a desk sergeant left, and they’re going to close all the roads in an hour because the snow’s starting to freeze.’

  ‘That’s not good,’ said Helen.

  Her husband nodded in agreement. He went to the window and pulled the curtain to the side; heavier snow was starting to fall again.

  ‘It’ll be hopeless trying to get there in this. I think we should all get a night’s sleep; you two look as though you need it. Then, in the morning, I’ll call someone from CID.’

  ‘CID?’

  ‘Someone tried to kill you, Laura. This isn’t something the local station can deal with.’

  She nodded. Danni nodded too.

  ‘Good,’ said Helen.

  ‘Now I’m putting the cars away. Any chance of some of that hot chocolate when I come back in?’

  Helen smiled, stood up and went into the kitchen while Robert went outside to first drive her car into the garage and then come out and put his own in too for the night. The wind had completely dropped and the snow was falling straight down, big flakes that settled on his head as he kicked several inches of snow away from the garage door before he could even open it.

  Helen watched him from the window.

  She didn’t look up the hill to see if there was a black car parked at the top of the cul-de-sac, or if the driver was still watching the house.

  74 | Sandra

  Sandra sat waiting.

  Bloody Mary had been on her feet for an hour, a nervous, fidgety figure yet still imposing; her mass of grey hair went in all directions and had not seen a brush in years. She had attempted to get on to the radiator and then the windowsill three times in that hour, each time prevented by the increasingly bad-tempered nurse, each time acting as though she was sorry, embarrassed even, and would never do it again; only to repeat the exact same process within a quarter of an hour.

  Sandra watched her, wondering what she was thinking. Wondering if she was thinking or whether she just repeated the same routine out of habit, much like the nurses whose job it was to look after her. She glanced over at Old Tony, watched as he moved his eyes right and left to see if the nurse was around, not ever realising how obvious or silly it made him look, before thrusting his hand down his trousers and underpants.