by Louise Stone
I stopped abruptly. I could hear a banging noise and I shivered even though I felt warm from the exercise. I saw a woman up ahead, in the depth of the woods, and my breath caught. She hadn’t spotted me yet and I slunk behind a tree. I thought I saw her bring a shovel up and hit the ground with all her force. A chilling thought entered my head: she looked as if she was digging a grave.
I moved closer and she looked up, her face at first panic-stricken, but then, when she saw nothing, it relaxed. It was Eleanor Wyre. Twigs crackled under my feet as I made my way slowly towards her.
‘Who’s there?’ she called out, her voice echoing through the woods.
I decided to show myself.
‘Eleanor, what are you doing?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
‘What the hell are you doing on our land?’ She secured her grip on the shovel and moved towards me.
‘It’s a public footpath, and I want to know what you’re doing.’
She looked at me, glanced at the shovel and then at a plastic bag off to her left.
‘What’s in the bag, Eleanor?’
‘Nothing.’
‘It doesn’t look like nothing.’ I lunged forward and grabbed the bag as she dropped the shovel and attempted to drag it away from me. As we tussled, the bag ripped and out fell a pair of jeans. Zoe’s. I recognised them straight away: she had stylised them herself with diamante crystals and rips.
‘Fuck,’ I said, my eyes unable to register what I was looking at. My breathing came hard and fast. My gaze flitted towards Eleanor who stood, pale and unmoving. ‘Where is my daughter, Eleanor? Where is she?’
We locked eyes and she was the first to look away.
‘Please tell me my daughter is alive,’ I said, a sob escaping my lips, and then I moved fast towards Eleanor, grabbing the shovel from her hands. ‘Where the fuck is my daughter?’ I held the shovel above Eleanor’s head.
She was crying uncontrollably. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know.’
‘Then why do you have Zoe’s jeans?’
‘I found them when I took the dog for a walk and I knew that if they were found anywhere on our land, that would be it. We’d be over. People look at my husband now like he’s some sort of paedophile. He hasn’t done anything wrong, but people start gossiping, don’t they?’ She waved her finger at me. ‘We’ve already lost half our business because of you. Farming is our livelihood and because of your daughter’s lies we are losing everything.’ She looked at me, her eyes hard. ‘I know you won’t believe I found these, but I did. And what I don’t need is it destroying us any further.’
I continued to hold the shovel above her head, my hands trembling violently. ‘Someone sent me a video of Zoe entering your house. The day we realised she was missing. If you’re so innocent, why was my daughter talking to you and then entering the house? You never told the police that.’
Eleanor sank into the dank earth, her body slumping forward in defeat. After a moment she looked up. ‘Zoe came to the house on Thursday afternoon. She was winding Jerry up. Acting like…’ Eleanor looked up at the shovel hovering inches from her skull. ‘Acting badly, and anyway Jerry told her to leave and then she went and that was that. Well, she came back on Friday and demanded to speak to him again. Only this time, she was acting even more strangely.’ Her head dropped and I saw her shoulders trembling. ‘I know you won’t believe me but I told Zoe to go away and then she barged past me into our house. She stood there for a couple of seconds and left again.’ She glanced at me. ‘I swear, that’s the truth.’
‘Why would she do that? It doesn’t make any sense. And it still doesn’t explain where my daughter is,’ I said, my arms tiring. ‘You were the last person to see her.’ I was beginning to suspect that Zoe had planned this whole thing. And the fact that all the clues led to the Wyres’ farm suggested a maliciousness I hadn’t imagined her capable of.
‘You’re assuming I was the last person to see her.’
I let the shovel fall to the ground, its metal head landing inches from Eleanor’s body.
‘What do you mean by that?’ I asked.
‘I mean, you keep talking about these videos. It’s like someone wants you to believe me and Jerry were the last people to see your daughter.’ This was uncomfortably close to my own train of thought.
‘The jeans. Where did you find the jeans?’
‘Literally on the edge of the woods, just off the footpath.’
I nodded slowly, her words washing over me.
I grabbed the bag, stuffed Zoe’s jeans inside and turned and walked away.
‘Where are you going with that?’ she shouted after me, her voice desperate.
I didn’t answer and left Eleanor, on the ground, begging me not to do anything stupid.
21
I strode towards the green, saw the bus making the return journey to Oxford, and waved it down, running the last few metres, still holding the bag with Zoe’s jeans.
My mind went over and over Eleanor’s words: they want you to believe me and Jerry were the last people to see your daughter.
I realised now that I had wanted to find the Wyres guilty. I had wanted them to have Zoe, for the entire thing to come to a neat, conclusive end. Only it was apparent this would not end neatly. And waiting around for more videos, notes and messages wasn’t going to help. There was only one person who could end it all and that was me.
I took out my phone and wrote Keira a text:
I’ve got the jeans. Why are you doing this?
I knew, of course, that she probably wouldn’t answer. As the bus entered the city centre and I had had no reply, I texted her again:
It’s over, Keira. I’m not afraid of you telling people my secret.
The bus came to a standstill on the high street and I got off. My body was tense with anticipation; wired and preparing itself for what lay ahead. I was on the edge of a precipice and I could fall either way. I cut through past the Radcliffe Camera, then across Broad Street and past Keble College. I dodged legions of cyclists, and headed for the park.
Keira, meet me in the garden. I know what’s going on.
When I arrived in the garden, I sat, my eyes automatically glued to the blue door, waiting. Despite it being a school day, I knew she’d come. This was more important.
After fifteen minutes or so, the door opened and Keira approached. She walked fast towards me.
‘Mrs Hall,’ she said as she stood alongside the bench, glancing over her shoulder. ‘I can’t stay long. Mum would kill me if she knew I was here.’
I patted the bench next to me. ‘Sit.’
I expected her to argue but she didn’t. I noticed a change in her demeanour; a tiredness that I understood. She was carrying a secret that was too much to bear: it was a burden I knew all too well.
‘I need you to be honest with me, Keira,’ I continued. ‘I know you know something about Zoe?’
I searched her face as silent tears fell down her cheeks. She nodded.
‘Zoe could be in danger, Keira. This is not the time to play games. I need to know what you know, now.’ I pressed more firmly on her knee. ‘Please.’
I opened the plastic bag and brought out Zoe’s jeans. ‘Why did you put these in the woods? Just like you put Zoe’s top up there, too?’
She stared wide-eyed at the jeans, her eyes once again brimming with tears. Suddenly, she looked so vulnerable, so young, that a part of me wanted to hold her, protect her like I hadn’t managed to protect Zoe.
‘You know,’ I continued, ‘it would be so much easier if you just told me what’s going on. Why are you trying to frame the Wyres?’
‘I’m not, we’re n-not,’ she stammered.
‘Who is we, Keira?’ I paused, put my hand on top of hers and felt her trembling. ‘Keira, I just want Zoe to come home safely. If you feel you must tell people about my affair with Robert, I don’t care any more. I was trying to protect Zoe from that news on her return but since she already knows, it doesn’t matter. I’ve not b
een there for Zoe, but I want to be there for her now. If it’s not too late.’
She started to speak, her words coming out fast and randomly. ‘It’s all so complicated. At first, I was angry, too, and I still am but I can see that you’re suffering.’ She looked at me. ‘I’m not making much sense but I hope Zoe comes back soon.’
I felt deflated. I really had thought that by showing Keira no fear, by telling her she could go ahead and tell everybody about my affair, she would tell me what I needed to know.
She looked at me, hesitated, then spoke. ‘I’ve spoken to Robert before.’
I sat up straight, took a deep breath before asking, ‘When?’
‘At a party, back in June.’
‘Tell me about the party.’ I thought of the photos, of Robert’s admission to having seen Zoe. ‘Where was it? Who was there?’
She pursed her lips together and I knew I had to slow down, let her tell me in her own time, otherwise she might run scared again. I watched her previous openness darken and I could have kicked myself for being impatient.
She shuffled forward on the bench and I thought I had lost her but, in fact, she held her head in her hands and started to speak once again. ‘It was after our GCSEs. Zoe had heard about a party in one of the colleges at Oxford Uni.’ She stopped and her shoulders rose and fell as she gathered herself. ‘I didn’t really want to go but Zoe seemed determined and I wasn’t going to let her go by herself. If Mum had known where we were she’d have gone ape.’
I nodded despite Keira not actually facing in my direction.
‘We figured we probably wouldn’t get ID’ed, and Zoe told me it would be mainly first years, so we were confident we wouldn’t look that much younger than them. So we went, and there was music, drink…’ She paused, glanced my way. ‘Drugs. But everyone looked older than I expected – some of them were really old, like thirty maybe, but I realised Zoe wasn’t surprised…’ I smiled ruefully at the idea of thirty being really old, but then stopped when I understood Keira’s implication that Zoe had intentionally sought out a party full of much older guys.
I nodded, felt myself tense and waited.
‘Anyway, Zoe saw Robert and she kept saying she wanted to talk to him. We drank quite a bit, until she got the courage to. I was on the other side of the room but I watched her get quite flirtatious with him.’ That wasn’t exactly how Robert had described it, but I didn’t say anything now that she was finally talking. She swallowed. ‘I was a bit panicky actually, because all these older guys started to surround her and I thought we should leave.’ She shook her head. ‘But we didn’t because Zoe didn’t want to and I was scared to leave her on her own. Instead, Zoe started to strip.’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Are you sure you want to hear this?’
I breathed out deeply through my nose, my fingers desperately manipulating the material on my coat. ‘Go on.’
‘Anyway, a few guys took out their phones and started taking pictures of Zoe dancing on the table in her underwear.’
I thought about the photos I had seen and closed my eyes briefly; the pain twisting at my heart was so intense it took my breath away. ‘I’ve seen them. I thought you had sent them to Stephen?’
She shook her head. ‘No, that wasn’t me.’
‘What did Robert do that night?’
She shrugged, sat up straight. ‘I don’t know. Zoe was angry before we went but even angrier after we had left. I’ve never seen her like that.’
My mind spun with confusion and a bitter taste developed in my mouth.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at Keira as I spoke. ‘Did you see them do anything other than talk?’
She swallowed hard. ‘No, but he led her outside and she’s never told me what happened.’
My breathing had grown fast and erratic. ‘Keira, tell me something. How far along was Zoe when she had an abortion?’
Keira turned the other way, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. ‘Four weeks.’
‘How long after the party did she have the abortion?’
Keira looked at me, tears spilling over and hung her head. ‘Four weeks.’ She grabbed her bag and stood. ‘I’m sorry.’ She started to run towards the door and I could hear her struggling to breathe, her sobs wracking her body.
‘Keira!’ I ran after her, tripping on the edge of the path and falling to my knees. ‘Keira, is Robert threatening you? Does Robert have Zoe?’
I scrambled to my feet, my eyes never leaving Keira’s back. She turned at the last minute. ‘I thought I knew where Zoe was, but truly, I don’t know any more.’
I ran the last few yards to Keira just as she was about to take off back through the park.
‘Was she scared, Keira? Please tell me she was okay.’ Tears coursed down my face.
Keira looked at me, sadness filling her petite features. ‘She wasn’t, Mrs Hall. She was terrified.’ She paused. ‘She kept wishing you were there.’
I stopped, stock-still, an intense pain skewering my heart and watched Keira jog quickly back towards the city centre.
22
As soon as I could no longer see Keira, I knew I had to talk to Robert. I dialled his number and waited. It rang through to voicemail and I tried again. This time he answered.
‘Hey, Frey, how you holding up?’ He seemed preoccupied, his tone rippling with an underlying anxiety.
‘Can we talk?’ I tried to keep my voice even. After all, I needed him to agree to see me or else he would never tell me the truth.
‘Um, when?’ His voice sounded muffled and I realised he had put his hand over the receiver in order to talk to someone else.
‘Where are you? Who are you with?’ My voice was strung out; I couldn’t help it, an empty stomach, insomnia, and the onset of paranoia gnawing at me.
‘What do you mean?’ he said, his voice suddenly clear again as I figured he must have readjusted the receiver.
‘I thought I heard someone.’ I cleared my throat. ‘It doesn’t matter. Can we talk? I could really do with a friendly face.’ My heart raced, my hand trembling as I held the phone.
‘Okay, sure. Are you okay?’ he asked gently and my heart momentarily forgot what Keira had told me: I wanted to believe he would never have touched my daughter. I felt sick, my stomach churning.
‘Yes, I’m fine. Just need to see you, you know?’
My ears pricked at the sound of a woman’s voice in the background; she appeared to be whispering to him, then giggling.
‘Who’s that?’ I said again, my voice firmer this time. Anger mounted in my chest and I felt adrenaline pumping around my body so fast, I could feel a burning pain in my chest.
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I’m in the Duke of Cambridge. Some girls on the next table are being a right rowdy bunch.’ He laughed. ‘Look, I’ll come and find you. I was just writing some notes up. For your seminar actually.’
‘Don’t say it so loudly,’ I reprimanded and then as quickly apologised. ‘Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.’
‘Shall we meet in the garden you were in the other day? In the park?’
‘We can meet somewhere nearer you if you want.’
He didn’t answer, as if distracted.
‘Robert, are you there?’ I pushed him. ‘I said we can meet nearer if you want.’
‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘What did you say actually? Don’t worry I did hear. No, let’s meet in the garden, like I said.’
Suddenly there was a jostling sound, a scratching sound as the receiver was moved from one person to another. A woman’s voice filled the line.
‘Hello?’ came the voice, slurring her words. ‘Robert’s a bit busy now, can you call back later?’
I froze, tears stinging my eyes, and almost didn’t dare to breathe. Hanging up on the woman, I slumped down the garden wall and sat hunched up on the ground. The waves of nausea wouldn’t stop coming.
I felt my phone buzz and looked down. A text from Robert read:
Sorry about that. See you there in 5? Not far at all, as I’
m in the Bod. Xxx
The Bodleian Library was about five or so minutes away, but the Duke of Cambridge was a good fifteen-minute walk. And it was pretty hard to mix up the library and the pub. I bit my nails and waited, eventually dragging myself over to the bench where I sat, just as before, with my eyes on the door. I looked at my phone and checked when he had sent the message. If he was coming from the Duke of Cambridge, there was no way he could be here in less than ten minutes, even if he ran the whole way. If he was coming from the library, he would be here very quickly.
Four minutes.
I tapped my foot on the floor, my eyes returning to the door. Then back at my watch.
Five minutes.
I wanted him to be more than ten minutes; I wanted him not to have lied to me. Time stretched out before me as I waited, my palms growing increasingly sweaty.
Twelve minutes later the door swung open and Robert jogged towards me. He looked sweaty. As he approached I took a deep breath, trying to push down the hurt and anguish swirling up through my chest.
‘Frey.’ He sat next to me and took my hand. ‘Are you okay? You sounded terrible on the phone. I rushed here as fast as I could. Have they found something out about Zoe?’
I shook my head, withdrew my hand from his clasp and watched his face cloud with confusion.
‘Freya? What’s going on?’
‘Where were you just now?’
‘The library,’ he said quickly.
‘But you told me you were in the Duke of Cambridge and that the female’s voice was a group of drunk students at the table next to you.’
His face flinched at his mistake. ‘Okay. You’re right.’ He held his hands up. ‘I was in the pub, but I was writing notes for your seminar when a girl on the next table started hitting on me.’
My heart twisted with jealousy at the mere mention of the girl.
‘I told her,’ he continued, ‘to go away but she wouldn’t. Looked like she’d had quite a few. She grabbed the phone off me and then spoke to you.’ He blanched. ‘I know what this looks like but it really is nothing like that.’ He grabbed my hand. ‘I told you I was at the library because I panicked. I knew you’d be upset about the girl.’