I'll Find You

by Liz Lawler

  The woman beside her had a fractured hip, the right one, and the nurse with her was trying to insert a catheter. ‘Betty, keep still, I’m just going to bend your left leg. You’ll feel a little warm water between your legs. Then I’m going to pop a tube in and you won’t have to worry about that anymore.’

  The child opposite her had broken a bone in his arm. She could hear his cry which sounded older than that of a toddler but still quite young. Mum was trying to comfort him and the doctor was attempting to give him intranasal diamorphine. ‘Can you make a big sniff for me? A really big sniff?’ The doctor made a snorting noise through his own nose and the child cried harder. ‘Can you just tilt his head back a little? Well done, Toby. What a good boy you are. Now, a big sniff for me.’ With the intrusion of a syringe up his small nose, the boy wailed, took a breath and sniffed mucus and tears back up his nose. ‘Good boy. All over. You have a cuddle with Mummy now.’

  The same sounds, the same injuries, the same treatments. Emily wished she’d come back to work here. A year ago she couldn’t set foot inside the place, but lying here now she realised she was ready again. She could be doing a job she loved and not one she was only doing for the sake of having a job.

  The curtain opened and Jerry Jarvis, one of her favourite doctors, stepped in. His hair was as black as hers and his blue eyes were almost navy. He grinned mischievously. ‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t Emily Tomb Raider. Been fighting with cars, I hear.’

  Emily screwed up her face in mock annoyance. He had called her this after hearing about her episode in the morgue. He’d hugged her after she was brought in with mild hypothermia. ‘Only you could do that,’ he’d said. ‘Gutsy,’ he labelled her, before giving her a new name: Emily Tomb Raider.

  ‘Shut up, Jerry.’

  ‘I hear you’re slumming it in the private sector, dealing with one whole patient at a time.’

  ‘It has its moments—’

  ‘Please don’t tell me you’re rushed off your feet.’

  She tried to act offended, but her lips twitched.

  ‘There she is. Knew she was in there somewhere. So now you’ve had yourself a little holiday, when are you coming back here?’

  She gave what she hoped was a mysterious look. ‘You never know.’

  He patted the top of her foot. ‘Good. I’ll be seeing you soon, then. In the meantime, you have a visitor.’

  She gazed, confused.

  ‘A DI Sutton, I believe.’

  Geraldine pulled a chair close to the trolley. When she sat down she was looking up at Emily. ‘How do you put this thing lower?’

  Emily leaned over and pointed out the correct foot pedal. ‘That one. Just press it with your foot.’

  The bed lowered, Geraldine sat down again. ‘You certainly get yourself into some scrapes. What on earth possessed you to run out in front of a car like that?’

  Emily looked at Geraldine, finding it hard to say what she saw for fear of not being believed. The fact that she had not heard from her since early afternoon worried her. What was Geraldine not telling her?

  ‘I thought I saw Zoe,’ she blurted out.

  ‘Thought?’ Geraldine didn’t look overexcited by the possibility and Emily felt a worry in her gut.

  She needed this woman on her side if she were to find Zoe. She was just being oversensitive. It was not surprising given all that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. ‘I’m sure I saw her. My leather jacket has gone missing and I’m sure Zoe has taken it, was wearing it. I saw the back of her and was chasing her and then I ran out into the road and I lost her.’

  Geraldine gave a brief nod. ‘Well, we’ll check that out, of course. In the meantime I do have an update for you. Nothing positive, I’m afraid. The only fingerprints found on the envelope, note and photo frame are yours. Also we’ve checked CCTV footage and we have you captured a few times, but no sighting of Zoe.’

  Emily stared at her, waiting for more, but Geraldine sat silent. The feeling of discord seemed to grow. Then she noticed the tiredness in Geraldine’s face. The woman had probably been at work all day and was still working now by being here with her. Hers was a busy job and Emily was not the only one who needed her time. She felt easier. She couldn’t bear it if Geraldine thought this was all in her mind. A fabricated note? Her leather jacket missing? Emily wasn’t stupid, and knew that finding the letter must have caused Geraldine to wonder who put it there other than Zoe. All that mattered was that she didn’t think it was she who had put it there.

  ‘Her writing will be somewhere. On patients’ notes—’

  Geraldine cut her off. ‘I think the best thing to do is wait and see if there is any other way you can retrieve a writing sample.’

  Emily flinched, embarrassed, hurt by the abrupt tone.

  A moment later she heard the detective pull back the curtain. ‘Give me a call, Emily, if you get anything else.’

  Emily nodded, then felt her throat tighten as she saw Geraldine try to smile. She heard the softened tone: ‘Sorry for being offish,’ she said. ‘It’s been a long day.’

  Emily stared fixedly at the gap in the curtain, made by Geraldine’s departure, lecturing herself for being so sensitive, for taking it so personally, and almost, but not quite, convincing herself that Geraldine had not been cross with her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emily had ignored the texts she’d received from Eric, but now he’d contacted her formally, by email, and she was fuming. He wanted to see her weekly again. If she hadn’t met Maria she would be happy to see him, happy to dance into his office and shout, ‘Zip-a-dee-doo! I found the reason for that woman in my room. She was simply in the wrong room!’ But as that was now in question, she wanted to avoid him, having the bigger problem of perhaps knowing who she lay beside. Knowing her name. Until she decided what she was going to do, if anything, she didn’t want him picking at her brains. She’d send him a text shortly and plead tiredness for not replying sooner, mention she’d had a minor accident and would see him as soon as she was able. She wasn’t exactly up and running yet, so it wasn’t a lie.

  She had been on a day off following her accident and was grateful she didn’t have to call in sick, and then spent the day taking painkillers and putting cold compresses on her hip. She’d gone to work the next day as normal and had tried to walk off the stiffness. Today she was moving easier, her mind focused solely on her job and everybody else’s as well. She was aware that she was beginning to get on people’s nerves. They’d declined her offer of help, they’d told her to slow down, take a breather, find a patient to talk to or maybe sort out the linen cupboard, which was where she was now, replacing sheets and pillowcases on the correct shelves and unpacking more linen to add to the pile. There was so much other stuff dumped in there: equipment not put back in the right places, boxed Christmas decorations and a spiky fake Christmas tree poking out from a shelf at calf-level. She’d cluttered the floor with all the stuff she was intending to remove from the small room, including a large cardboard box marked ‘Lost Property’. She’d find out what the hospital did with its lost property other than dump it in a box.

  A half hour later, the room was how it should be: a storage place for linen. The only thing to remove now was the lost property box. She eyed it curiously and budged it with her foot, feeling its heaviness as it barely moved. It was too heavy to carry. She’d need a sack trolley, or else to lighten its load. She knelt down and raised the flaps. A navy towelling dressing gown was folded on top of other stuff. She took it out and placed it to one side. A flowery toiletry bag zipped closed lay next, then an electric shaver with adaptor plug still attached to it, more clothing, grey jogging bottoms, a black Superdry hoody, a pale pink satin pyjama top, a tangle of mobile phone chargers, then the cause of the real weight: books, both paperback and hardback. She took them all out and immediately saw bright yellow fabric underneath. She pulled it free and held it up and saw details she had forgotten: short sleeves and pink piping around the neckline; an embroidered
pink flower on the right breast. The top was made for a small person and she realised now that it was more of a cropped top. Emily’s chin trembled and fear prickled her chest; it was further proof that she had not imagined the woman she had shared a room with. This top, the bracelet and the other contents still in the box – a folded pair of jeans and worn leather flip-flops – proved she existed. Barrows was wrong when she said no one else had been in that room with her. Was she just mistaken, or had she deliberately lied?

  In the changing room she showered quickly and flung open the cubicle door when she barrelled straight into Meredith. Meredith grabbed hold of her to keep her upright. ‘Jesus, Emily, you nearly took my legs from under me! What’s your rush?’

  Pulling away, she didn’t realise Meredith had a hold of her towel until she was left naked. For modesty’s sake Emily half turned and Meredith gasped. ‘Oh my god, what have you done?’

  Emily looked down at her hip. The bruise had spread to the size of a dinner plate, deep navy at its centre and purpling at the edges. ‘I fell over,’ she simply said.

  ‘Off what? A building?’ Meredith asked sceptically, then handed back the towel.

  She covered herself. ‘Didn’t put my arms out to stop my fall.’

  Meredith puffed out her cheeks, her eyes round with surprise. ‘I’d get that checked out if you bruise that badly. And go a bit slower.’

  She carried on drying herself, hoping the anaesthetist would leave. She liked Meredith, but now was not the time to talk to her. Unless the conversation was work-related, she didn’t want to talk at all. Her throat felt like it was stuffed with a hard ball that would not dislodge. Her emotions were so tightly wound, any act of human kindness was likely to set off a flood of tears. She could not stop thinking about the clothes she’d found in the lost property. Where did she go from here? Should she see Geraldine and report it? Speak to Dalloway? Tell Eric? Emily didn’t know who to turn to. Eric had replied to her text asking her to make an appointment at her earliest convenience. What was that about? Was he that concerned about her mental state that their next appointment had to be as soon as possible? Would he have men in white coats holding straitjackets at the ready, just in case? He had been counselling her for a year. She trusted him, or she thought she did, until now. Right at this moment she didn’t know who to trust.

  ‘Earth to Emily?’

  She looked up and realised Meredith was talking to her.

  ‘I said, have you found a date yet to go for that drink?’

  She stared at Meredith and wondered why this exciting, quirky, intelligent woman was even bothering with her. What on earth did she have to offer her? They were poles apart. Meredith probably lived in a large swanky house back in the States, and drove a flash car and had a successful, handsome husband. She rented a poky two-bedroom flat with ageing hand-me-down furniture, a car that wouldn’t pass its next MOT and a fractured past. Maybe Meredith had heard of her missing sister, her claim to fame, and wanted a bit of light entertainment, to hear from an insider’s point of view what it was like to live under that media spotlight.

  On the brink of fobbing her off with some excuse, she stopped herself. Why not go out and have some fun? It would take her mind off everything. It’s what normal people did every day. She couldn’t remember the last time she had even sat in a pub. The only outings she had gone on in the past year, if she could consider them that, were the meet-ups with Geraldine. During those meet-ups, she had got to see the insides of coffee shops during daytime hours. If the worst came and she bored her companion, she could always get a taxi home.

  ‘Yes, I have. I’m free tomorrow, Saturday or Sunday, then I’m back on nights.’

  ‘Great, let’s make it Saturday then.’

  They exchanged mobile numbers, and then Emily was free to get dressed in peace.

  *

  Outside the hospital she hunted in her rucksack for the key to her bicycle lock. She needed to put it on a chain around her neck, as she wasted more time looking for it than anything else in her bag. Impatiently she emptied out the contents and watched in frustration as loose change rolled away. Her eyes followed the money until a pair of white plimsolls stepped into her vision. She raised her face and saw Maria.

  Emily stood rooted. ‘Hello Maria,’ she said cautiously, ‘are you here to see Mr Dalloway?’

  Maria shook her head quickly, her eyes darting over Emily’s shoulder. ‘No, I come to see you.’

  Emily’s eyes opened in alarm. ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes. I speak only to you.’ Her eyes were restless, flitting back and forth, tension in her entire being. Emily looked at the ground at her scattered belongings. She hunched down, throwing the contents back in the rucksack, her hands trembling, feeling flustered by the woman’s presence.

  ‘You know something. I think you see Katka?’

  Emily saw a mixture of hope and fear in Maria’s face. Her hands were clasped together as if in prayer. Emily wanted to deny it. She had no idea who that young woman was yet, and had no proof that she was this woman’s niece.

  With the last of her things retrieved, Emily stood back up. ‘Why don’t you ask Mr Dalloway for help?’

  The woman spread her hands in despair, her mouth trembling. ‘Dr Dalloway a good man. I work for him long time as nanny to his daughter, but he not believe Katka go missing. He believe she come home soon. I need you to talk to him. Tell him you see Katka.’

  Emily’s heart tapped hard against her ribs. ‘But I didn’t! I really didn’t.’

  ‘You lie. I know you lie.’ Emily saw the conviction in the woman’s eyes as she spoke.

  Emily shivered, despite the warm day. Maria was so certain. And what if what she had said was true, that Katka was in that bed beside her? If this woman was right, and it was her niece, then she had no choice but to help. She knew all too well the fear of not finding someone you loved. She knew what this woman was going through. Someone may have made her niece disappear and hidden her clothes in lost property, maybe thinking no one would ever find them. Only they hadn’t banked on Emily being a witness. Of her seeing who had worn those clothes. She had seen what she was not meant to have seen by simply being put in the wrong room.

  Maria reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. ‘Dr Dalloway’s home. You go see him. You tell him truth of what you see. You make him believe Katka missing.’

  With the piece of paper now in her hand, Emily was left standing there long after Maria disappeared from view. She shivered again, this time more violently. She could not walk away from this. Something had happened inside that hospital. A patient had disappeared and only she would admit to having seen her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emily could hardly believe she was turning up at his home uninvited. His house, built on top of a hill, only came into view once she passed a wall of tall trees. Her stomach knotted at the thought of speaking to him. He may consider this an imposition and simply close the door on her.

  Her car turned into a private road taking her up to the house, and she knew there was no turning back now. She parked and stepped out into the heat. The air was still, not a leaf moving on the trees, and the silence was so complete she could hear bees buzzing in the flower beds. The hot July day was holding onto its heat even approaching evening.

  The eighteenth-century converted barn was stunning. A feature wall of tinted grey glass stood in place of what might have once been the main opening to the barn. Two large porthole windows built into the stonework either side of the sheet of glass gave an impression that the house had a face: two round eyes and a long Nordic nose was watching. She eyed the house up and down and decided he must have old money or earn a great deal from his private practice. The front of the property, an open courtyard compacted with grey gravel, allowed for parking and turning space for several vehicles. A pale gold Alfa Romeo was parked. Raised lawns and low shrubs surrounded the courtyard. A drystone wall and a line of trees followed the slope of land for several acres, bef
ore giving way to a view of patchwork greens that spread far and wide. A small paddock to the right of the building had separate access through a five-bar gate, which was presently closed, with a stone-walled stable beside it. In the distance Emily could hear clip-clopping and a woman’s voice calling, ‘Good girl, good girl.’

  Sat atop a dark brown horse, the woman came into view and Emily stood still as she waited to be seen, but the woman didn’t notice her as she steered the horse to another gate with access to wide open fields. Emily wondered if she was the wife. Dressed in jodhpurs, riding boots and navy polo shirt, there was something striking about her bearing, her graceful poise and red hair flowing down her back. Emily watched the horse pick up its stride and the red hair begin to bounce rhythmically with the motion, a brief halo of orange, as the sun picked out its striking colour. It was a beautiful sight, and one that she could have watched for a while if she wasn’t so conscious of where she stood.

  Emily pressed the doorbell and bit her thumbnail as she waited. A child opened the door, a dusting of flour on her bright pink T-shirt and goo on her fingertips. Her hair was a similar colour to the woman on the horse. She stared at Emily open-eyed and open-mouthed, showing two new top teeth. Emily was about to say hello when the door opened fully. Dalloway was suddenly standing there, an expression of welcome falling from his face as he saw his visitor. He stared at her, amazed.

  ‘Isobel, please return to the kitchen,’ he quietly instructed, his voice mild.

  The child hid her face in his side. He patted her hair. ‘Be a good girl and go back to the kitchen. We’ll finish the cakes soon.’

  Emily watched her walk away and was then left to face Dalloway alone. ‘What brings you to my home, Nurse Jacobs?’ he asked bluntly, not disguising his surprise.