by Susan Lewis
‘He’s in his room,’ Alayna told her as she reached the landing. ‘Apparently he really laid into Dad about Brigitte and everything . . .’
‘Oh God, not him too,’ Andee groaned. ‘What’s going on with everyone? Please go downstairs and get your grandmothers off Dad’s back.’
‘But Mum . . .’
‘Just do as you’re told,’ and taking off along the landing she found Luke’s door open, with Luke himself slouched forlornly on the edge of the bed.
‘So what’s going on?’ she said, putting an arm round his shoulders as she sat down with him. ‘I know Dad . . .’
‘It’s not about Dad,’ he interrupted. ‘Well it is, but that’s like . . .’ He shrugged. ‘It’s about something that happened just after the end of term. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you, but I thought . . . I was afraid if it all came out it would be bad for you, for me too, and there was nothing to it really . . . I mean, there was, but it wasn’t me who did it . . . I was there, for some of the time . . .’
‘Sweetheart,’ she came in gently, ‘you’re not making a lot of sense, so let me remind you that you can tell me anything and no matter what it is we’ll find a way to work it out.’
He nodded distractedly. ‘That’s what Dad said.’
‘You’ve told him?’
‘Yeah, I told him. I was going to tell him before, you know when everything first kicked off about Sophie, but then Brigitte turned up and it was all like, you know, weird and stuff, and . . .’
‘What does Sophie have to do with it?’ she asked carefully, already praying that he wasn’t going to admit that the local boys Sophie had written about included him. ‘Do you know her?’
He shook his head. ‘I mean, I know who she is, but I’m not like . . . Some of my mates met her and her friend on the beach . . .’ He turned to her in sudden panic. ‘You’re not going to make me give you their names, are you?’
‘Luke, I need to know what happened.’
He hung his head again. ‘There was this party, just after we broke up, in one of the caravans. I found out after that she’d invited us because she wanted to get off with Robin Howell. You know Robin, he’s in my class . . .’
‘Yes, I know Robin.’
‘Well apparently, Chelsey, that’s Robin’s girlfriend, was mean to Sophie at school, so Sophie wanted to get back at her by, you know, going with Robin.’
Filling with dismay, Andee said, ‘And did she go with Robin?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. It was like she wanted to, but then she changed her mind . . .’
Andee’s eyes were stern. ‘Please tell me he didn’t force her.’
‘No! I mean, if he did I didn’t see him, but I swear I don’t think he did. No one did. All I know is that everyone was smoking dope and getting out of their minds . . .’
‘Were you smoking dope?’
Looking down, he nodded.
Her jaw tightened. ‘Go on,’ she said, deciding that would have to wait until later.
‘I just remember that Sophie was crying and her friend was shouting . . . Some of the guys seemed to think it was funny. That was when Jake and I got out of there. It was like crazy, but I don’t think anyone else stayed, because we saw them all about ten minutes later in the Leisure Park.’
‘Was Sophie with them?’
‘No. They were saying she was bad news and needed to grow up and stuff, and then it was like everyone forgot about her until . . . until it came on the news that she was missing.’
Andee stared at him hard as his body began convulsing with sobs. The only good part of this, if he was telling the truth, and he’d better be, was that there hadn’t been a rape. ‘Is it possible one of your friends might know where she is?’ she asked, torn between comforting him and throttling him.
With his head still in his hands, he said, ‘I don’t think so. Everyone’s scared out of their minds in case the police come knocking on their doors, but she didn’t go missing until at least three weeks after that party and I swear none of us saw her in that time. I don’t think any of us even really knew her name till then.’
Angered by the wretched arrogance of that, Andee was struggling to decide on the best way to go forward. Though she didn’t believe any of the boys were involved in Sophie’s disappearance, there was no getting away from the fact that they had to be questioned.
‘You’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you,’ she warned, ‘but I’m afraid I am going to need the names of everyone who was there that night.’
‘Mum, no!’ he cried. ‘Everyone will know it’s me who told you . . .’
‘Robin’s I already have,’ she continued.
‘Mum, you’re not listening. If they think I grassed . . .’
‘I’ll pass their names to someone else at the station so they can speak to your friends. Luke, listen, you said yourself that the party happened three weeks or more before Sophie went missing, so they should have nothing to worry about. No, hear me out. The police aren’t about ruining young men’s lives for the sake of it, so if there was no assault, and no one’s saying there was, not even Sophie’s friend . . .’
‘We were smoking dope, Mum. It’s against the law.’
‘I’m aware of that, but it’s not the main issue here. However, I will be taking it up with you again, you can be sure of that, and you can consider yourself grounded for the rest of the holidays.’
‘Mum, no!’
‘Mum, yes. And I’m sure Dad will support me on it, so don’t try getting round him. Now I want those names.’
‘Mum, please . . .’
‘You’re going to give them to me, Luke, and I’ll tell you why. If one of your friends does know more than he’s telling, is he the person you’d want to protect right now? Or would it be a vulnerable young girl who really needs to be back with her family?’
‘But I swear none of them knows where she is.’
‘And I probably believe you, but it still has to be checked. Now the names, please.’
As she started to write them down Alayna came dashing up the stairs. ‘Mum, your phone,’ she gasped, holding it out. ‘It’s Leo. He says it’s urgent.’
Grabbing it, Andee said to Leo, ‘What’s happened? Have you got her?’
‘No, ’fraid not, but Sikora’s just been arrested in Dover. A couple of uniforms are driving over there now to bring him back.’
Chapter Thirteen
THOUGH ANDEE WAS extremely keen to interview Sikora, she’d decided during the night that there was something she needed to do before going to the station this morning. As it ended up taking longer than she’d expected, it was past ten o’clock by the time a disgruntled Gould came over the Airwave.
‘Where the heck are you?’ he demanded. ‘We were expecting you an hour ago.’
‘I’m just pulling into the station,’ she told him. ‘Has anyone spoken to Sikora yet?’
‘He’s with his brief.’
‘Don’t tell me, Piers Ashdown.’
‘Wrong. Helen Hall.’
Andee’s eyebrows rose. ‘Now that does surprise me.’
‘She’s the duty solicitor. A friend of yours, isn’t she?’
‘Sort of. Are they ready to talk to us yet?’
‘Not that I’ve heard, and she’s been in there since eight.’
Finding that slightly less curious than Gould apparently did, Andee bypassed the custody suite as she entered the station and took the stairs to the incident room, where she spoke quietly to Jemma about the situation with Luke’s friends.
‘I don’t for one minute think any one of them has any idea where Sophie might be,’ she concluded, ‘but they have to be spoken to and I know I can rely on you to handle it discreetly – and whatever you do, try not to let them think we received our information from Luke. If anything has to be mentioned, say it was the diary.’
‘I hear you. I’ll get on to it right away.’
Turning to Leo, Andee handed h
im a Post-it containing a few scribbled notes. ‘I want you to check if there was a diversion on this road on the dates I’ve written there,’ she told him.
Leo regarded the information in confusion. ‘What’s this about?’ he asked.
‘Just do it,’ she replied, and taking out her phone she sent Martin a quick text as she headed for the lift. Tell Luke a very good female officer going to handle things. Will call when/if any news. X. To her annoyance she hit send before realising she’d added a kiss. Damn! Still, it was too late to take it back so she’d just have to let him decide what to make of it, and put him right if he got it wrong.
He did, within seconds.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Trying not to laugh, she tucked the phone away again and pressed a button to go down to the Stress & Mess. The custody sergeant would contact her as soon as Helen Hall and her client were ready to talk. Meantime she had a lot of thinking to do, and some reading.
Once seated at an empty table with her first coffee of the day, she took out her photocopy of Sophie’s diary and turned to the entries at the time Jilly Monroe had died. She was doing this now because she felt they’d lost sight of Sophie as the sweet, confused girl she’d been before her world had fallen apart after the birth of Archie – before she had had to struggle to feel that she still mattered. In a way it was a little like turning back the clock, something she’d done so often in her mind with Penny, needing to remember her sister as the happy, carefree girl she’d been before they’d stopped noticing how she was changing.
Surprisingly, there was only one entry following Jilly’s death, written about a month later. I only have this book left now. It doesn’t stop me missing her, but sometimes, when I look at it I feel like she’s looking at it with me. I hope she’s happy where she is and not missing us too much. Dear Jesus, please tell her I love her with all my heart and I’m doing my best to look after her flowers.
Having to swallow hard, Andee turned the page to find what she’d thought, during her first reading of the book, was some astonishingly accomplished poetry for a girl so young. Then she’d realised Sophie had meticulously written out the lyrics of some of her mother’s favourite songs. ‘Just Like a Woman’. ‘I Saw Her Again’. ‘I Got You Babe’. Andee found it easy to imagine Gavin and Jilly singing together, à la Sonny & Cher, while Sophie glowed with happiness as she watched them.
The last song she’d written out was ‘Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam’, and just like the first time she’d read it, Andee felt her eyes filling with tears. She hadn’t heard the song in so long that she’d almost forgotten it existed, but now she was looking at the words it was as though she could hear herself and Penny singing them together at Sunday school.
Penny, where are you? What happened? Will you never, ever come back to us?
Would there ever come a time when she’d stop asking those questions?
Knowing she wasn’t going to find any answers in these pages, only a connection to Sophie that sometimes felt like one to Penny, she put the diary aside and picked up her coffee. Almost before she could gather her thoughts, her mobile bleeped with a text from Graeme.
Just letting you know I’m back in Kesterly. Would love to see you. No pressure. Call when you can. Gx
A moment later the phone rang, and seeing it was Martin she clicked on. ‘Hi,’ she said, ‘if you’re looking for an update on Jemma’s enquiries she hasn’t even started them yet.’
Realising Luke must be there as Martin repeated her words, she added, ‘Tell him not to worry, please. Actually, put him on.’
‘Hey Mum,’ Luke said, managing to sound a little more buoyant than he was obviously feeling. ‘We heard on the news that you’ve got this Polish bloke now. If he ends up confessing, or something, will that mean we’re all, like, off the hook?’
Sighing, Andee said, ‘Probably.’
‘OK, cool. I mean, great. Thanks. Here’s Dad again.’
‘Hey,’ Martin said, coming back on the line, ‘did you like my text?’
‘Very funny,’ she responded, trying not to smile. ‘I hope you realise that my cross was a mistake.’
‘I did, but I hope you realise that none of mine were.’
Finding herself wanting to laugh, she said, ‘Listen, I’m sorry none of us were as receptive to Brigitte as we should have been. I hope it hasn’t caused any difficulties . . .’
‘Don’t worry, she was very understanding.’
It was a moment before she could reply, ‘Good. So you two . . . You’re still OK?’
‘We are. That is, she is and so am I.’
Not quite sure how to read that, she said, ‘Well, once the funeral’s over and the extended family’s dispersed it’ll probably be a better time for us all to meet her.’
‘Ah, speaking of extended family, I had a call from your cousin Frank earlier. He and Jane are arriving sometime this afternoon, so I thought I’d invite you all for dinner this evening. Hilary and Robin will probably come too,’ he added, referring to his sister and brother-in-law.
‘You want to cook for that many?’ she asked incredulously.
‘I thought I’d book the Crustacean.’
‘The Crustacean. It’ll cost a fortune . . .’
‘Why don’t you let me worry about that? Can I count you in?’
‘That’s going to depend on what happens here, but if I can get away, I’ll be there.’
‘OK. I’ll make the reservation for eight o’clock. If you find that’s too early for you, just come and join us when you can. Hang on, Alayna’s saying something . . .’
‘Alayna was there while you were talking about Luke’s friends?’ she cried.
‘She’s only just come in . . . We’re at the Seafront Café.’
As she waited for him to talk to Alayna Andee pictured them gathered around a table, probably one of the banquettes next to the window, and remembered many times over the years when they’d eaten there together, as a family. The café had even been there, on the corner of North Road and the Promenade, when her grandparents used to take her, Frank and Penny for a treat after a ride on the donkeys, though it had been under different ownership then.
‘Alayna’s just reminded me,’ Martin said, coming back on the line, ‘that I need to make things absolutely clear. So, here goes: it’s over between me and Brigitte, and the reason I’m flirting with you . . .’
‘Dad!’ Alayna protested in the background.
‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded.
‘Just say it.’
‘I’m trying to, but you keep interrupting me.’
‘All right, well get on with it.’
‘She is so bossy,’ he told Andee. ‘It can’t be me she takes after. Anyway, as I was saying, I have finally come to my senses and realised what a terrible mistake I made when I left. Actually, I knew it almost straight away, but I was finding it kind of hard to admit, and then you wouldn’t listen when I tried to explain . . .’
‘Martin,’ she interrupted, thinking of Graeme, ‘I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having on the phone, or in front of the children.’
‘But they’re on my side,’ he pointed out.
Closing her eyes in an exasperated laugh, she said, ‘Luke wasn’t.’
‘He is now. A bit of male bonding on the moor. We’re very simple, and fast, us blokes. He got it all off his chest, I took it like a man, and now we’re good to go again.’
Knowing that a part of the instant forgiveness was Luke’s need for his father’s support while the issue with his friends was settled, Andee replied, ‘Well I’m glad about that, but I’m afraid it’s going to take a bit more than some bonding on the moor and getting things off our chests to sort things out between us.’
‘I’ll buy a bigger tent and let you bare your chest first,’ he promised.
Though she only just managed to swallow a laugh, especially when Alayna injected a puhlease, she said, ‘I repeat, now really isn�
�t the time, and I should go. If there’s anything to report about Luke’s friends I’ll let you know.’
Glancing at her watch as she rang off, she tried to imagine what was going on with Sikora and Helen Hall that was taking so long. Was he admitting to taking Sophie with him that night, to knowing where she was now? If so, then today was going to take a very different turn from the one she was expecting.
Suzi was sitting in a window seat of the Seafront Café, absently watching a man on the next table with his two teenage children. She knew they were his because she’d heard the girl say Dad! a couple of times, in the way teenage girls often did, and the boy was a dead ringer for him. Not as tall yet, or as filled out, but the same tousled fair hair and definite features. It was nice watching a family that seemed to get along so well, though she expected they weren’t without their problems, because as far as she could tell nobody was.
She’d come in here on her way to the police station, and had ended up staying after the caff’s owner, Fliss, had come to sit with her, saying she looked like she could do with a bit of cheering up. The next thing they knew they’d been telling each other their life stories and not holding much back. It turned out Fliss was no stranger to heartbreak – her only son had been killed in a car crash and because she’d been driving at the time her husband had blamed her.
‘He wasn’t the only one who blamed me,’ Fliss had confessed, the lines on her sweet oval face telling their own tale of suffering. ‘I blamed myself, and I don’t suppose I’ll ever stop. He’d be eighteen now, if he’d lived. How about your girls?’
Feeling the fractures in her heart widening, Suzi said, ‘Seventeen, fifteen and twelve.’ With a sigh, she added, ‘You have to wonder, don’t you, why life dishes out these things? You do your best, try to stay out of trouble, and suddenly everything comes crashing down around you.’
‘Isn’t that the truth?’ Fliss responded, shaking her head.
It was around then that the man and his two children had come into the caff so Fliss had gone to serve them, and had brought Suzi another cappuccino once they were settled.
‘I came to Kesterly to try and rebuild my life,’ she was telling Fliss now, ‘and I was doing OK until all this blew up. I swear I don’t know what my brother’s done with that poor girl, if he’s done anything at all . . . I only know that he’s got himself in really deep with the people who own the campsite and now they’re expecting me to give him an alibi . . .’ She shook her head, too close to tears to say any more.