A Family By Design

by Olivia Rytwinski

  Louis took himself to bed after making me promise to wake him if we heard anything. Shortly afterwards I followed him downstairs and found him sitting up in bed, on his phone, as he flicked through Facebook.

  “I’ve posted something about Lyssa and asked people to share it. Look.” He handed the phone to me. “It could help us find her.”

  Seeing Lyssa’s beautiful, rosy-cheeked face beaming at the camera, I could see that Facebook was the perfect vehicle to publicise crimes and find criminals. So many people used it and checked it throughout the day.

  “That’s inspired, Louis. You’re such a smart and thoughtful brother.” Unable to take my eyes off Lyssa’s photo, my stomach turned somersaults. “I’m proud of how you’re handling this. I’ll share it too. Something might come from it mightn’t it?” Tears ran down my cheeks and I felt woozy again.

  “We have to try,” Louis replied and placed his phone on the bedside table.

  I sat down at Louis’ desk and took in his piles of textbooks and revision notes, no longer his primary focus. “I don’t imagine we’ll sleep tonight.” I sat down on the edge of the bed. “But we have to try and rest so we can help tomorrow. And I want you to help too, Louis. Lyssa may be miles away, but even so, I have the strongest feeling we’ll be able to find her.”

  “Do you think so?” Louis said, biting his thumbnail. “What makes you think that?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I have a gut feeling. Call it a mother’s intuition.” I moved and smoothed out his duvet. “Sweetheart, if you need me in the night, shout or come in. Don’t lie there worrying. I’ll be awake.”

  I heard footsteps and turned to see Max standing in the doorway. I hugged Louis, planted a kiss on his cheek and left them alone. Louis idolised his dad, and I felt certain that if anyone could reassure him, it would be Max.

  I got ready for bed, splashed my face with cold water, and changed into a pair of loose leggings and vest, ready to leave instantly if necessary. I remembered my herbal sleep remedy in the bathroom cabinet. During stressful periods and worries about work or the children, the drops worked well, but not so that they’d knock me out. I didn’t expect them to make tonight any easier, but since falling asleep on Lyssa’s bed, for some unfathomable reason, I didn’t feel in the same heightened state of panic that had gripped me all day.

  Max walked in and shut the door behind him. He turned to me and his eyes drilled mine. “Why did you tell Louis you were going to find Lyssa, and that he could help?”

  “Because,” I paused, unsure how to continue. “I need – no, we need to feel like we’re doing something. Don’t you?”

  “You know I do, but she could be anywhere. Don’t you think the police are more likely to be looking in the right places, with all the officers and help they have?” Agitated, he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “We should call them first thing and see if there are any leads before setting off on a wild goose chase.”

  “I’d hardly call hunting for our missing daughter a wild goose chase. Jesus Christ Max. What the hell is the matter with you?”

  “What?” he barked. “Only that my daughter has been kidnapped after you left her sitting in the car with the door wide open and the keys in the fucking ignition.”

  For the first time in our twenty years together I felt like hitting him.

  “You rotten bastard. You can’t keep throwing that in my face. And of course I’m going to speak to the police. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

  He snorted, turned abruptly and walked into the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him. How dare he try and blame me for Lyssa’s abduction, and tell me what I could or couldn’t do to help find her.

  I turned on my iPad to check my emails and social media and saw messages from work and friends, but I didn’t read them properly or reply. I was only looking for or a message from an address I didn’t recognise.

  Max came out of the bathroom, but avoided catching my eye.

  “Are you checking for messages?” I said.

  He tutted. “You really have to ask? Are you checking yours?” He snarled and unbuttoned his shirt. “I’ve had messages from our friends. They’re thinking about us, asking what they can do to help. We’d be doing the same if it was happening to any of them.” He scrunched his shirt into a ball and threw it at the foot of the bed.

  Guilt washed over me as I wished that it had happened to one of them instead.

  In bed, with my head on the pillow, I imagined Lyssa’s face, her eyes wide, as her hair spilled across her cheeks. I shivered and thought about who had her and what he might do to her. I tried to picture her surroundings, just as I’d dreamed as I slept on her bed. Perhaps if I concentrated I’d visualise her, see something to identify her location – somewhere that I recognised. I pictured her with my eyes closed, and when that didn’t work I stared at the ceiling. Sill I saw nothing but shadows that flickered from the tree outside our window as the branches wafted in the breeze. My hands rested on my stomach. I clenched my fists and imagined what I would do if I got hold of the sick freak that had taken her.

  I reached for Max’s hand and squeezed lightly. I waited for him to return the gesture as always, but it didn’t come.

  “Why Max?” I turned to him and studied his shadowy profile. “I can’t bear to think about what she could be going through and how terrified she must be.”

  In silence, he put his arm around me, and I clung tightly onto him. Although I could touch his skin, feel his warmth, the distance between us seemed vast, as though a crevasse had opened up beneath our feet, and had left us on opposite sides, looking across at one another, unable to connect. Even though I felt gripped by fear, I wished we could kiss, touch one another honestly and openly. I knew he blamed me for leaving Lyssa alone, and I felt a sudden, desperate need for his love. Plagued with black thoughts I tried to remain on the right side of a panic attack. I wondered if I should tell Max about my dream, ask him if he knew what it meant. No, I was being irrational. It couldn’t have any connection with reality. It was only my mind trying to untangle the whole heap of mess plaguing it. I closed my eyes and lay enfolded by sadness; sleep a distant possibility.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Connection

  “Mummy, where are you?”

  I awoke, and sat bolt upright? I remained still in the darkness, and listened to the silence.

  “Mummy, I’m here.” Lyssa’s voice whispered to me like an echo, and yet she sounded so near.

  I flew out of bed and ran into the darkened hallway. Light from Lyssa’s bedroom cast into the corridor, and beckoned me like a beacon. Was she home? I walked closer with a rising sense of trepidation.

  I stood in the doorway and whispered, “Lyssa is it you?”

  I knew she was nearby – perhaps she waited for me to go to her. I ran in and grabbed the wardrobe door handles, swung them open, and ripped apart the hangers. I crawled on hands and knees and checked under her bed. I half expected to find her there, grinning at me like in a game of hide and seek. I stood up. I felt a strange sensation, as though being dragged by invisible fingers that tore at my skin and pulled me towards the rear of the house.

  I turned the back door key and pulled the handle, but it stuck as though someone had hold of it on the other side. I gripped, wrenched harder and the door flew open and scraped over my bare feet. Outside it rained. No, it wasn’t just rain – it battered the ground with torrential force, rattled against the windowpanes and heavy droplets bounced high off the floor.

  I stepped into the deluge.

  The torrent pounded against my skin and I looked into the darkness beyond it.

  “Lyssa, it’s Mummy,” I called. “Can you hear me?”

  Then I heard her.

  “Yes, Mummy . . . I.”

  But her voice sounded distant.

  I looked for any movement, or a sign that she had returned home.

  In a few seconds the downpour ceased. Rainwater poured from the roof and down the drainpipes, and t
rickled in rivulets down the path. The wind turned gentle as it caressed and curved its way over the roof and coiled around the walls of the house. My eyes adjusted and I made out the dark hillside that rose steadily before me.

  Then a hand fell like a cloak on my shoulder. I spun around.

  I looked at Max, confused.

  “What is it? What’s out there?” He held out his hand to me. “You’re wet through.”

  “I heard her Max. I think Lyssa’s home,” I cried.

  But, I knew I was mistaken. My legs felt weak and I leaned against the doorframe.

  Max pulled me upright and closed the door. “There’s no one there. It was a dream,” he said, trying to rationalise my crazed behaviour. “Perhaps your parents have arrived.” His eyes continued searching mine.

  “No, Max. You don’t understand,” I said, and looked into the darkness again. “I heard her. It was real. Lyssa was real.”

  Max tried to take my hand, but I pushed him away. I left a trail of water as I ran through to the front of the house. But the sensation I felt earlier had gone, and there was no one out there either.

  A few minutes later, I found Max at the kitchen table with two hot drinks in front of him.

  “You were dreaming Kat. And it’s hardly surprising given the strain you’re under, we’re both under.”

  He pulled out the chair next to him and placed a cup in front of me. “Drink your tea, and then we’ll see if we can rest. Tomorrow’s going to be… well who knows, but we have to be ready.”

  “Why can’t you understand? Lyssa called me.”

  It had been more than my imagination playing tricks on me, and I felt frustrated by Max’s patronising response. As I sipped my tea I realised that if I was in his place, I might well have said the same platitudes.

  Back in bed, I turned away from Max and cried into my pillow.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Intuition

  I lingered on the edge of sleep until eventually I fell into a dark and restless slumber. I dreamed that a throng of cloaked demons carried me towards a great burning pyre like a sacrificial offering. As we drew closer I looked into the flames and knew I would soon be devoured by them, but rather than resist, I submitted and accepted the inescapability of my fate.

  Max woke me a few minutes after seven to say that my parents had arrived.

  I was dripping with sweat and I began to cry the second that reality hit me. “Have there been any calls?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “I’ll ring now, and I’ll let your parents know you’re up. Your mum said I should let you sleep, but I knew you’d want to be up. At least you slept a bit.” He sat on the edge of the bed and tied his shoelaces.

  Despite everything, I had slept, and that was the strangest thing. Then I remembered last night – my premonition as I slept on Lyssa’s bed and then the early hours, when she had called out to me.

  Why though? And how? Had Lyssa spoken to me through some deeply buried channel or mind mechanism? Now that it was daylight, I knew they were revelations of some kind; something much more than dreams that remained at the forefront of my mind when I awoke.

  My parents sat at the kitchen table with Louis, talking quietly. Mum stood up and held out her arms.

  “Come here my poor, poor girl.”

  I fell into her embrace and clung to her as I wept.

  Eventually she drew back and held me at arm’s length. “No need to explain what happened, Max has told me everything. I’ll make you a tea, and you should try and eat.”

  My hand trembled as I wiped my tears. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Mum pulled a tissue from her jacket pocket and gave it to me.

  I blew my nose, and Dad hugged me.

  “We will find her, Katriina. Whatever it takes… wherever she is.”

  As he enfolded me, I felt saved in some small way.

  Max strode into the kitchen with such a serious expression that my entire body stiffened. I breathed in sharply and braced myself.

  “The police have received some calls from people who believe they’ve seen your car. They’re checking them out. Inspector Keir recommended we stay put. She believes he could still get in touch.”

  “Does she think it’s a planned kidnap then, did she say?” I asked.

  “No, and we explored that possibility, didn’t we?”

  “But there might be someone one of us has upset through work, an unpaid debt, a job gone wrong.”

  “Well it’s not me,” Max shot in reply.

  “I wasn’t accusing you. Where were the sightings?”

  “She can’t confirm yet.”

  “Why not?” I said. “And she can recommend we stay here, but there’s no bloody way I’m sitting doing nothing again all day. I’ll take Mum and Dad’s car. OK, Dad?”

  Dad nodded.

  “And you’ve got yours Max. We can pick two separate routes.”

  They all regarded me with various degrees of incredulity.

  “But that’s like looking for a needle in a haystack,” said Max. “You can’t think we’ll just happen to bump into them. We need some idea surely, it’s way too random otherwise?”

  “I cannot sit here while my daughter is missing,” I said.

  Louis pushed back his chair and came to stand with me. “I’m coming with you Mum. You said I could help, and I know the area well, especially off the main roads. You’re right, there’s no point staying here.”

  “Thank you, Louis,” I said, and took his hand.

  “That’s settled then. I’ll sort out breakfast while you get yourselves ready.” Mum opened the fridge, pulled out various packets and placed them on the worktop.

  “What a waste of time. Louis, you’re staying here, and Kat, you’re in no fit state to drive anywhere. You might have an accident,” Max said.

  “Honestly, Max, I don’t care what you think. I need to do something, and I’m perfectly capable of driving. It wasn’t me who was driving so recklessly that I skidded off the road, writing off my car and almost killing myself in the process. Perhaps you need to think about how fit you are to drive.” I shot back at him, then turned to Louis. “It would be helpful if you want to come with me, but I’ll understand if you’d rather stay here.”

  A few minutes later, I had checked my iPad for messages, and then I was forced to sit at the table. Mum placed a full cooked breakfast in front of me.

  I said feebly, “I could manage some toast.” Yesterday’s tummy upset, stress or whatever, had returned, and that uneasy feeling bubbled again.

  “Just eat what you want and leave the rest,” Mum said.

  Mum had never been one to force-feed us, but I knew she only wanted to feel useful, in a situation where we all felt so utterly useless.

  “I’ll try.” I looked down at the eggs, beans, and mushrooms, picked up a piece of toast, and took a small bite. I swallowed and felt it lodge at the back of my throat. I mumbled an excuse, sprinted down the stairs to our bathroom and knelt down in front of the toilet. Now I didn’t have to wonder what was making me sick; I’d barely eaten in the last twenty-four hours. Could this be happening? Of all the years, months, and days to find out I was pregnant, why now? It hadn’t been planned or even talked about. At forty I enjoyed a proper career again, and until yesterday life had been wonderful and full, let alone the matter of a missing daughter. If I was pregnant, and I felt sure of it, then I had neither the time nor the inclination to think about it. I needed to channel all the energy I could muster into finding Lyssa.

  And then another thing occurred to me. Something started buzzing and reverberating right through me. Was this a warning, or a terrible omen? One child had gone missing, but in some cold-blooded way another child would replace her. The chances of Lyssa disappearing, and finding out I was pregnant seemed surreal. I wondered whether it had been a cruel coincidence – one precious life to replace another.

  I knew the new life slowly taking form within me wasn’t something I could share with anyone, not even M
ax. I could barely get my head around the idea, and talking about it was impossible.

  “Katriina, are you in there?” said Mum, from the other side of the door.

  I drank some water from the tap, and opened the door to see her troubled face.

  “You dashed off. Are you all right?” She asked and smiled to try to soften her concern. I looked at her puffy eyes and realised she hadn’t slept either. Her long hair, threaded through with streaks of silver, and usually so neatly tied back looked messy and uncombed.

  “How can I be all right?” I flushed the toilet and washed my hands. “I want to get out there and start looking. Being here is driving me mad.” I sat on the bed, pulled my hair back and tied it into a knot. “Can I borrow your phone? The police said they might be able to trace my phone, which could lead us to Lyssa, but nothing’s come of it.”

  “It might do yet. Take Dad’s phone, his has fairly good coverage up here.” She sat beside me and looked at me before speaking. “Sweetheart, I can see Max is going crazy with worry, but I can’t help thinking he’s acting strangely. I’m not trying to frighten you more than you are already,” she paused. “Have you noticed anything unusual about his behaviour?”

  My heart pounded in an unnatural rhythm, like heavy raindrops against my skin.

  “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “He’s on his phone constantly, looking at things, probably messages -”

  “But I’d be on my phone if it was here,” I said, and felt annoyed.

  “Well yes, and I’m not trying to be alarmist, but when Max was in the living room, and I walked in, he was talking on his phone, but not in a normal way, more whispering. When he saw me he said he had to go, and hung up. I asked him if it was the police and he didn’t even reply. It seemed out of character and…” Mum stopped mid-sentence as Max appeared in the doorway.

  “Kat, I’m going to the police station. I want to know about those car sightings, and as long as someone is here,” he looked at Mum, “I think that would be more helpful, don’t you?”