‘Did you meet her?’
‘God, no. She was persistent, though.’ He gestured to the sheet still in Madeleine’s hand. ‘As you can tell.’
‘You didn’t threaten her in any way? Warn her to stay away from you and Charlotte?’
John flinched. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘You’re a key witness to the accident allegedly caused by Paul Selby, Ruby’s boyfriend,’ Charis said. ‘She was following you, she’d attacked Charlotte . . . Some might say that’s reason enough.’
John smiled. ‘Yes, I can see your point but I’m more than capable of reasoning with someone like Ruby without resorting to any of the things you might be implying.’
Madeleine took a few moments to take him in, his explanations.
When Charis started to give John her contact details, Madeleine did another sweep of the room, eyes dismissing things almost as soon as she laid eyes on them.
Then she caught a glimpse of something shiny.
It was brief, a flash of something on the floor near the fireplace when she moved. She walked closer.
John watched her, face suspicious. ‘Something wrong?’
Madeleine didn’t answer him.
She moved a little out of the light coming in from the window.
Nothing.
She moved again, in a slightly different direction.
This time she saw the flash of metal catching the light again.
She bent down and picked up the object. It was light, metal, with a tiny green jewel in the widest part of the setting.
John looked over her shoulder. ‘What’s that?’
Madeleine looked at him and then held her hand open.
John frowned. ‘Probably the ex-wife’s.’
Madeleine looked at him. ‘Beth, is it?’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘She dropped the kids off last week, came in to hand me some legal documents. It’s probably hers.’
‘Does your wife go in for lip piercings, Mr Hague?’ Madeleine said. She looked at the tiny silver lip ring and a vision of Bryony Keats’s photograph flashed into her mind.
Charis’s eyes widened in realisation. ‘How did you come by that?’
John shook his head. ‘I’ve never seen that before. It must be Beth’s.’
‘It’s a lip ring, Mr Hague,’ Madeleine said. ‘And from where I’m standing it looks a lot like the one owned by Bryony Keats that was missing from her body.’
The colour drained from John’s face.
‘You can’t think that I . . .’ He looked from her eyes, to the ring in her palm, then back again. ‘No, that’s not hers, it can’t be.’
Madeleine checked the mantelpiece above the fireplace surround.
‘What are you looking for now?’ John said. He pointed at the lip ring. ‘This is insane! It can’t be hers, can’t be.’
Madeleine wrapped the lip ring gently in a tissue as Charis made a phone call on her mobile.
‘Mr Hague,’ Madeleine said, ‘I’ll need you to come with us.’
CHAPTER 51
CHARLOTTE
‘Elle’s probably in London, getting lost in the city. She’ll soon come back with her tail between her legs when she’s cold, hungry and out of money.’
That’s what John had said to Iain.
That got me. I saw the smugness, like he always believed this would go his way. Like I’d be easy to play.
He thinks he has a hold over me. Maybe he thinks we can resume what he started to do in his house. Maybe he thinks I was complicit when his hands and mouth were all over me, when I was remembering everything about the accident fully for the first time.
That will change.
I won’t stay silent on this cover-up. Paul Selby may be a lot of things, but he can’t take sole blame for what was partly my fault. I have a conscience even if John doesn’t
But right now, I have to find my daughter.
First thing I did when I left John’s was follow Iain back. I noticed the rust and peeling white paintwork as I drove behind him, and it felt like a metaphor for the way my life – our life – is heading right now. Cracked, stripped and ruined if someone doesn’t step in and restore it, and soon.
My head’s feeling thick and my insides all torn.
When we get back to the house, Iain barely speaks to me. He soon goes back out again, although he doesn’t tell me. I only know he’s gone when I hear the van door slam and seconds later it pulls off the drive.
No doubt he’s gone to see Savannah. Maybe they’ll talk about how I’ve brought this down on all our heads. Maybe he’ll realise he’d be much happier with her.
I couldn’t blame him if that happened.
I’m a mess and feel like I’m losing control of everything I hold dear in my life. Sadly, I’m starting to realise that what I hold dear might no longer include Iain. I don’t feel like I’m losing him. I feel like he’s already left, spiritually, emotionally.
My head hurts with a pain so intense I know I need to lie down before I fall down.
If I just sleep a little bit, I’ll have the energy to go out again and search for Elle. I’ll go further out this time.
Twenty miles? Maybe I’ll just head to London? I can’t do nothing.
I head on upstairs to bed and know I’m about to fall into the deepest sleep I’ve ever known.
I gladly let myself fall into a pleasurable nothing where there’s no hurt, no fear, and in my dreams my daughter is back by my side.
CHAPTER 52
ANON
I don’t bother with the van. I can’t, and besides, I know time is almost up. As I drive up towards the cabin, my eyes do a quick sweep of the place.
Nothing seems to be out of place. I wonder if they are awake yet? I left them some water and bread beside them as they slept on the plastic. That’s more than the rest got, so they’d better be fucking thankful.
I traipse through the wildflowers and when I start to climb the wooden steps to the front door, I hear hushed voices and I smile.
They are awake.
I shove the front door back but I don’t immediately step inside.
I immediately look for anything out of place.
They’ve eaten their bread, drunk their water – as best as they can with bound wrists anyway.
I look down at Elle, sat on the floor, fear in her eyes. I step inside and pull on the rope that’s tied around the water pipes, securing them both, stopping them from leaving the cabin should they have woken up before I got back.
I look down into Elle’s eyes and hold her gaze.
Then I feel the air shift, move in the immediate space, and I turn, see the bonds on the floor where Kenzie was moments before.
I hear the hinges on the back door of the cabin whine.
I run through the little kitchenette and find the door wide open, one of Kenzie’s battered trainers on the threshold.
I have no time to think; I’m moving, running.
I reach out, my whole body weight colliding with her and she goes down, skids across the mud.
I grab her kicking legs and she screams when I drag her backwards, on her belly. Her fingers dig into the mud and squashed flowers.
Her legs keep moving and I struggle to keep hold of her.
I look down, see the tree branch, downed from the January storms earlier in the year. I drop her legs, reach for the branch.
I thought she’d run, but she’s frozen now. She opens her mouth to scream, but I hear no sound as I swing the branch high, bringing it down on her head.
Her skull cracks like an egg.
And that’s all it takes.
Her blood, both the white and the yolk – both thick and runny.
I roll her into the undergrowth, leave her for the animals, and return to the cabin.
The door swings shut on its rusty hinges.
Elle looks at me as I come into the main room. She takes one look at the specks of blood on my face and screams.
CHAPTER 53
CHARLOTTE
>
When I wake up, I ache all over. I guess I must’ve lain awkwardly in my sleep. I try to roll over to check the time on my phone but my head feels like it’s in a vice. I can barely move without feeling sick.
I want to get up, resume looking for Elle.
‘Iain?’ I call for him but the house is silent. He must still be out. I rub the sleep from my eyes and try to gauge the time of day by the amount of light coming through the curtains.
It’s still light out.
I see the glass of water on the bedside cabinet and, with my fingers splayed, I manage to edge it closer to me without spilling it.
I don’t remember bringing a glass with me to bed. Maybe Iain left it for me and I hadn’t realised?
The water is a little cloudy.
I tip the glass back and swallow it anyway.
As I begin to slip back to sleep I think about Elle and her smile. Then I see Ruby’s face and remember lies I have inadvertently told because of John.
CHAPTER 54
CHARLOTTE
‘Charlotte?’
I hear a voice call my name, then I feel strong hands on my shoulders. ‘Charlotte! Seriously, are you going to sleep all day?’
My eyelids feel heavy as I try to open them. I rub at my eyes with my fingers. ‘Iain?’ I say. ‘What’s going on? What time is it?’
He sits down on my side of the bed.
‘It’s midday almost.’
I open my eyes a fraction, and even the faded light from behind the curtains hurts my eyes, my head. ‘It’s the next day? Why didn’t you wake me?’
‘I tried to wake you last night when I got home but you barely stirred,’ he says, and I can hear the irritation in his voice.
God, my mouth is dry, my throat feels sore.
If he’s here now, he must’ve taken the day off work. No wonder he’s pissed at me. He taps my thigh through the duvet cover.
‘Come on, get up.’
I open my eyes again, just a fraction, and see him staring at me. He gets up from the bed and looks down at me.
I sense something isn’t right.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’ve got something to tell you and you’re not going to like it.’
This makes me bolt upright. ‘Elle, is she OK?’
‘Elle’s still missing,’ he says.
His eyes settle on mine and I feel self-conscious about how I must look. I pat either side of my head, then brush my hands down through my hair. It feels greasy to touch.
‘I need to wash,’ I say and slide my legs from the bed. He presses his hands on both my shoulders, stopping me.
‘Listen to me,’ he says. ‘John was arrested late yesterday afternoon, not long after we left.’
Those very simple words suck from me what little strength I have left. I just stare at Iain. I can’t even speak. John’s been arrested and I’ve lost hours to a heavy, death-like sleep.
‘DI Wood called earlier to tell us.’
I just stare, try to take in what he is telling me.
‘He’s going to be questioned,’ Iain says.
I find my voice, somehow. ‘Why? What’s happened? Please tell me this has nothing to do with Elle?’
He looks at me, face serious. Why isn’t he saying No it isn’t? Why isn’t he calming my fears, telling me I’m being irrational?
‘Iain?’
‘Ruby Tate is missing, did you know that?’
My thoughts immediately turn to Paul Selby and what he’d said to me.
I shake my head. No, honey, I didn’t know . . .
‘Well, she is, and he was one of the last people to see her. Maybe the very last person.’
‘OK,’ I say.
‘He’s going to be questioned, Char. About Ruby and Bryony Keats.’
My blood has cooled under my burning skin.
‘I don’t understand.’
Iain tells me what was found at John’s house and inwardly I scream.
‘He’s not been charged with anything,’ Iain says. ‘The police are searching his house, though. This is serious, Char.’
I feel tears begin to brim in my eyes. ‘He can’t have hurt Elle. He wouldn’t. If I could just talk to—’
‘DI Wood has already said we shouldn’t jump to conclusions but be prepared for certain . . . possibilities.’
My stomach flips, twists and I feel sick. My whole insides feel liquid, like I’m made of nothing substantial or solid any more.
I launch myself from the bed and run into the en suite. I barely make the toilet in time. I empty what little is left in my stomach into the bowl.
I grip the sides of the toilet to steady myself as my head spins. I hear Iain come in. I look around, hand clasped to my mouth.
He stands in the doorway, staring down at me, and I can’t read his expression.
‘I always told you I never liked him, never trusted his intentions,’ he says, and I can’t bear to hear the words. A burning sensation rushes up my throat and I heave into the toilet once again.
‘Think about who you let into our lives, Charlotte,’ Iain says.
‘That’s a wicked thing to say.’
‘It’s not.’
‘It is! It’s wicked and it’s unfair. Unfair on me. You’re saying it’s my fault Elle is gone. You’re saying John has hurt people.’
Iain lets his arms flop by his sides. ‘Look what’s happening. The police found evidence that ties Bryony Keats to him, to his house. How well do you know him, Char? I mean, really know him?’
I shake my head. ‘We don’t know what’s going on yet,’ I say. ‘He wouldn’t hurt Elle. I know he wouldn’t.’
I’m lying, of course, to myself as much as Iain, because there is a very real possibility I’m wrong. Part of me believes he could have and the pain is too much to bear.
I push myself up from the floor.
‘Maybe the girls – Elle, Kenzie – maybe they really have run off together?’
‘Maybe they have, but you don’t believe that. You’re avoiding what’s been staring you in the face for months. That John has ulterior motives and is capable of lying when he needs to.’
I think of how he’s already lied about my part in the accident.
What have I done?
I shove past Iain, not wanting him to see the guilt in my eyes.
I reach for the glass on my bedside cabinet. I need to get the taste of bile out of my mouth. I eye the water – a very small amount left in the glass. I tip the glass to my lips.
‘I can get some cold from downstairs if you want?’ Iain says, and I turn to look at him. He reaches his arm out.
I hand the glass to him and notice the chalky white debris at the bottom. He’s taken it from me before I can get a better look.
He leaves the room and my eyes fall to his side of the bed, at the packet of Diazepam on the beside cabinet.
I tell myself not to be stupid, not to be paranoid.
It’s several minutes before Iain comes back.
‘Here.’ He hands me the glass.
The water is clear and I down it in two large mouthfuls.
‘You can go back to sleep if you want,’ Iain says. I notice his voice is softer now. ‘If I hear anything more, I’ll wake you.’
‘I should get up.’
‘No. Rest, please.’ He smiles a little. ‘You look awful.’
‘Thanks.’
He laughs in what feels like the first time since . . . well, since for ever.
‘I’m sorry. About John,’ he says. ‘Whatever he’s done – if he has done anything – I’m sorry I’ve been hard on you.’
I nod, although I’m not sure how sincere he’s being.
‘I will take better care of you, Charlotte. I promise.’
CHAPTER 55
Iain closed the bedroom door as quietly as he could. Charlotte had slipped back into a deep sleep earlier, despite his telling her what had happened with John.
He decided he’d let her sleep until the morning.
He crept back downstairs, mindful of each creak the stairs made under his weight, although he doubted she’d even stir, she was so out of it.
After making himself a drink, he noticed he had a text from Savannah. He sat down in the living room and hit the call button over her name.
‘Iain,’ she said when she answered. ‘How’s Charlotte?’
He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed at his eyes. ‘She’s as well as can be expected. Worried sick about Elle, obviously. We both are.’
‘She’ll be OK. I’m sure Elle will come home soon.’
Iain didn’t answer that. ‘You heard about John?’
‘Yeah, who hasn’t?’ she said. ‘We’re shocked at work. I know he’s not been charged with anything yet but . . . well, it makes you think, doesn’t it? I keep going over every little thing, every conversation I’ve had with him recently, wondering if I missed something, anything strange.’
‘I’ve never liked the guy.’
‘I know.’
‘I think about him and Charlotte and I go crazy, going over it all.’
‘There’s nothing going on there, Iain. I’d know if there was.’
He paused, brow furrowed. ‘Do you think you’d be the first to know if there were something?’ He paused, listening to her silence on the line. ‘I mean, sorry to say it, but you’re no longer the friends you once were.’
Savannah’s words caught in her throat.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘It’s all right. I know it’s true. I don’t know what’s happened between us. Our friendship really has suffered since the accident.’ She paused. ‘It must be so hard for you both on the job front too.’
Iain wiped the sleep from his eyes. ‘What?’ He sat up straighter in his seat.
‘All the extra pressure on you to keep the business afloat. Sorry to mention it, but if you need any help, I have some savings.’
‘What are you on about?’
Savannah stumbled over her words before she was coherent. ‘I bumped into Harry. We weren’t gossiping, he just sort of let it slip, which makes sense to me now I come to think about it. Charlotte being home so much.’
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