Saviour

by Andie M. Long

  PC Staniforth records Bridget’s details.

  ‘What were Eden’s intentions when she was last seen? Did she say they were going on holiday?’

  ‘No. She told me she was bored and thinking of leaving and going travelling.’

  ‘What about you, Mr Harrington? What were her last words to yourself?’

  ‘Like I said, she just told me I couldn’t be around here. Then he came out.’

  We wait as PC Staniforth continues to type into the document. She stops and pushes back her chair, standing up.

  ‘Would either of you like a coffee?’ she asks. ‘This may take a while longer.’

  We both agree and she leaves the office.

  I turn to Xavier. ‘She seems to be taking it a lot more seriously than the last one.’

  ‘Thank goodness.’

  PC Staniforth returns clutching three drinks. We each take one and she quickly puts hers down on the desk. It must have been burning her fingers.

  ‘Right. Let’s get back to the report. Does Eden have a mobile phone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What happens when you ring it?’

  ‘It says it can’t take a call at the moment.’

  ‘Could you give me the mobile number and network if you know it?’

  I oblige.

  ‘Were there any recent changes in Eden’s behaviour? Anything to indicate a risk to herself or others?’

  ‘I felt that Jack was definitely aggressive towards me,’ answers Xavier.

  ‘Subjective though. You don’t know that Eden hadn’t been bothered by others before you. He could have been protecting her.’

  ‘But that coupled with the fact she couldn’t come out when I was here. He set up business dinners. Seems a bit suspicious, doesn’t it?’ I add.

  She shrugs her shoulders. ‘Again, it’s subjective. I can’t record any of that as a risk. Any medical conditions?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘Any family or relationship problems?’

  ‘She was fostered, long term.’

  Xavier looks at me, interest peaked.

  ‘Her biological parents are dead. She has a foster brother who’s in prison for fraud.’

  PC Staniforth looks at me, crossing her arms.

  ‘How long has he been in prison and when is he due to be released?’

  ‘He was jailed last year. They aren’t close. I don’t know when he’s due out.’

  She takes Drew Wilson’s details as best I know them, along with Eden’s foster parent names and logs it all.

  ‘Who’s Eden’s next of kin?’

  ‘I am,’ I tell her. ‘I have a document here. She did it while we were at college.’

  She takes the form from me. ‘I’ll take a copy of this in a moment and let you have it back. Can you tell me her employment history?’

  I tell her about Eden working at Johnnys with her now ex-boyfriend. Again, she records all the details.

  ‘Okay. Now could you tell me everything you know regarding her employment with Jack and Sienna Loxley.’

  I inform her of her job as House PA.

  ‘So she lives in, cleans, fixes breakfast, etc?’

  Xavier turns to me. PC Staniforth glances from one of us to the other and sits back. ‘I can’t help you if you’re not being honest with me. What else do I need to know?’

  I tell her about the arrangement. She records it, her face giving nothing away. ‘Is that everything? Can you think of anything else?’

  ‘I thought you’d be shocked. You know? About their arrangement.’

  PC Staniforth looks at me. ‘It would take more than that to shock me. You can’t imagine the things I’ve heard in interview rooms. At least this was consensual.’

  ‘Right,’ I reply.

  ‘Was Eden depressed or suicidal?’

  ‘Definitely not,’ I snap. ‘She wouldn’t do that.’

  Xavier rests a hand on mine. ‘She has to ask.’

  ‘I do. Sorry, I know it can be difficult. Last question. Do you believe there is a suspicion that Eden has been abducted?’

  I sigh. ‘She could have just gone on holiday.’

  PC Staniforth fixes her gaze on mine. ‘I’ll repeat the question. Do you believe there is a suspicion that Eden Elizabeth Stark has been abducted?’

  I sigh. ‘I can’t rule it out. It’s the fact she hasn’t been in touch.’

  She nods. ‘Right. Let me get finished up here.’ PC Staniforth spends another five or so minutes typing up her report. Then she hands us a printed reference number.

  ‘That’s the Crime Number. If you have anything else you need to report, quote that number.’

  ‘What happens next?’ asks Xavier.

  ‘It goes to the Crime Assessment Unit and if they deem it fit it’ll be allocated for further investigation. I’ll call Miss Mitchell and let her know what the outcome is.’

  There’s a knock on the door and another PC beckons PC Staniforth outside.

  ‘Excuse me a moment,’ she says. ‘I’ll copy this document while I’m out.’

  ‘Well that’s it then for the time being,’ says Xavier. ‘We can only wait.’

  ‘Looks like it.’ I bite a straggly piece of fingernail. ‘God, Eden, where are you?’ I say into thin air.

  PC Staniforth returns. Her face wrinkled in a map of frown lines and tenseness.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I panic.

  ‘I arranged for Jack and Sienna Loxley’s names to be run through the system while I fixed the coffees.’

  ‘And?’ asks Xavier.

  ‘Seven years ago they didn’t exist. Jack and Sienna Loxley aren’t their real names. This has just become a crime investigation.’

  I gasp, feeling a tightness in my chest.

  ‘I’m applying to the Magistrates court for a warrant to search their house. We’ll be exploring the local area, house to house enquiries, ringing the hospitals, checking airports etc. Keep your phone on you, Miss Mitchell.’

  ‘Do you think she’s—Oh, my God.’ I put my head in my hands.

  PC Staniforth places a hand on my shoulder. ‘At this stage, we have limited information. That’s why we’re opening an investigation. I promise I will be in touch the moment I have any news.’ She turns to Xavier. ‘Can you make sure she’s okay? I need to get on.’

  ‘I can stay with Kara,’ he replies.

  ‘There’s a lounge. Let me show you to it. If she feels faint or anything, let the receptionist know.’

  ‘Okay.’ He nods.

  ‘Mr Harrington. I will need to call you back for questioning shortly.’

  ‘Not a problem. I understand.’

  She directs us to the lounge. Xavier points me toward a comfy seat. As I take it, my body trembles and my scalp prickles. Where the hell is she?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Eden

  My mother was a crack whore. My father unknown. As she sold her body to pay for what she abused her system with, my father could be anyone. I spent years imagining a smart, wealthy tycoon who’d sweep in to save me from my mundane life. The thing is, crack whore or not, you love your parents. When you have nothing to compare them to, they are your world. You don’t understand who the social workers are when they’re removing you for your own safety. You’re used to staying in a room in the dark, eating stale bread. It’s your normal.

  In this room as the night passes, I’m back there. I’m not afraid of being in here if that’s what he’s hoping. It reminds me of my childhood before I was removed. Right now, I’m more frightened of out there.

  So much time to think. My foster parents wanted a regular cheque and quiet children. I kept my head down and studied. I was a good girl as far as they were aware. What they didn’t know was that I lost my virginity at thirteen to a sixteen-year-old and I carried on, learning to seek happiness with the instant gratification of an orgasm. A time of true bliss that would spiral me out of my boring life and take me some place entirely euphoric.

  My foster brother Drew fell in wi
th the wrong crowd, but our parents turned a blind eye so long as he didn’t bring trouble to their door. His room was full of stolen merchandise. He’d watch me with calculating eyes, asking me if there was anything I wanted. Hating that I turned down everything he offered. He felt I passed judgement. He didn’t realise I didn’t seek satisfaction from items of monetary value. The older we got, the more strain developed between myself and Drew. He accused me of believing I was better than him and liked nothing more than to remind me that I was the daughter of a drugged-up prostitute. The system helped him move into his own place at sixteen. He moved into fraud. Then the magistrate's courts. I never could completely cut him off. He was an idiot, but he was family. He’s currently in prison for making fraudulent documents. His first actual prison sentence, aged twenty-three. I dread to think what his future holds. We weren’t close but I hope he finds a better way of living.

  I realise I never wrote to tell him I was moving out of my student digs. Will he think I’ve finally washed my hands of him? Given up on him like our foster parents did as soon as we reached an age where we were no longer profitable? I laugh to myself. We’re more alike than I gave us credit for. I was never a pampered princess, just a girl in chains who needed an escape. I look up through the barred windows at the moon and wonder what his view is as we both spend another night imprisoned.

  The stray cat has taken to sitting on the ledge outside of my window and meowing at me. As the window doesn’t open, its logic at begging me for food is skewed but I like the small amount of company it gives me. I move my hand up the glass pane and it rubs its head against the glass. When it realises I can give it no food or comfort it vanishes, only to return the next day to repeat the process.

  My punishment since the fork incident has been food and drink passed through the hatch with no eating implements. Other than to be informed that I could eat like the feral creature I resembled, I’d been starved of words. Forced into a silent prison with only my cat for company.

  My ears hone in on the sounds of footsteps. They cease outside my door. The key in the door turns. I sit at the back of my room, alert to any possible escape options, but appear docile. Jack walks in, a rope in his hands. I swallow.

  He looks me up and down, eyes narrow and a facial expression openly expressing distrust. ‘This wasn’t supposed to happen, Eden. All we wanted was an arrangement where we could live together and love each other. We can still have that, you know?’ He sits on the other end of the mattress and looks at me. ‘If you’re ready to join us. If you can show us you can be trusted, then there’d be no reason why you couldn’t come out and spend some time with us. Enjoy the villa.’

  He leans over and brushes a hand down my neck, trailing it down my breast. I hold myself rigid. I refuse to flinch under his touch.

  ‘You see. I care for you, Eden. I just want to love you.’

  He continues caressing my breast and I realise that to have any chance of getting out of here I have to let him touch me. He will take away the part of me I’ve always given freely. The part of me that always found joy. He binds my hands above my head with the rope. As he pushes me back against the mattress, I close my eyes. I try to relax as he takes my body, but it hurts. For the first time, there’s no pleasure in it for me. My soul cries though I cannot.

  He leaves me with a kiss on the cheek, sore wrists and a used condom. I stare into space and hope he lets me out soon. I wonder what he’d have done with the rope had I not acquiesced.

  After an unknown amount of time, I get myself up off the mattress and walk through to the bathroom. I’ve been allowed soap, a sponge, toothpaste, a toothbrush and a roll-on deodorant since I’ve been here. Being on the coil, I barely ever have a period so hopefully I won’t have to beg for sanitary protection. Washing my hair with soap is disgusting and having no comb leaves me with a tangle of knots. I do my best to untangle it with my fingertips, but my hair is a dry shamble. I was given one towel, and he hasn’t let me change it for days. It smells of mustiness and damp.

  I put the filthy towel on top of the mattress so I don’t have to lie where he made us lay together. The heat of the night means the dampness of the towel and my hair don’t halt my slumber.

  The next morning the hatch is opened. I open an eye, for a moment disorientated as to where I am. Then reality crushes me again. I hope he hasn’t come for more from my body.

  ‘Fruit salad, toast and some orange juice, Eden.’ Jack’s voice sounds lighter today. More friendly. Reward for my compliance no doubt.

  My voice croaks out a thank you.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  I want to snort. He has me trapped in a room where he’s taken me against my will. Yes, I’m fucking amazing today, thanks. Instead I mumble, ‘I’m tired. I think I’ll go back to sleep.’

  ‘Well, your breakfast will wait.’ He moves away from the hatch.

  ‘Jack.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Would it be possible to have a clean towel?’

  ‘Just a moment.’ The hatch closes and I wait for a few minutes.

  On his return, he opens the hatch and pushes through two tablets of washing powder.

  ‘You do the chores, remember? Here, when you feel less tired, you can wash your towel.’

  ‘Where will I dry it?’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll dry, eventually. Enjoy your rest, Eden. I’ll see you later.’

  The way he says it makes my skin crawl.

  I strip off my clothes. I only have the clothes I travelled in; a tee-shirt, a cardigan, a pair of long shorts and my bra and pants. Turning on the tap, I fill the sink with warm water and wash my clothes. I wring them out the best I can and hang items over the door and the top of the window. Then I wash my towel. I manage to save half a tablet of wash powder and hide it behind the toilet for washing my underwear again.

  Completely naked, I eat my breakfast and then wash from head to toe, taking my time as there’s nothing to rush for. I need to feel clean. Then I lie on the damp towel on my mattress and think about nicer times until the hours pass and the hatch opens again, Jack’s voice tells me my lunch has been delivered. Once eaten, I drift back off to sleep to pass on some hours.

  He comes back for me again that evening, demanding things of my mouth I don’t want to do. If I refuse I won’t eat tonight. After he leaves, I run to the bathroom and brush my teeth so many times my gums bleed. When the hatch finally opens, it’s female hands that push my evening meal through.

  ‘Sienna.’ My voice trembles, making me annoyed. ‘Help me. Please, let me go.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers and the hatch closes once again.

  The next few days repeat. I spend the day washing myself, and Jack spends the evening dirtying my soul and body.

  But this evening when the hatch opens, along with my meal, Sienna passes through a clean sheet for the mattress.

  ‘Don’t let him know,’ she whispers and the hatch closes.

  That night I lie on a clean sheet. One I will take off before he comes each evening and hide under the mattress. One that allows a small part of me to stay clean. Another part of me sparks with a long forgotten sensation, hope, and wishes that Sienna is a loose link in the chain of captivity.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kara

  It’s strange the thoughts that go through your mind about a missing person. You watch a bird hop around a bush in the garden and wonder what view the person is seeing today. You try hard for your mind not to go there. They are definitely out there, definitely seeing something. They’re lying injured somewhere. They’ve miraculously landed next to a stream so they’re okay for water until they’re rescued. You’re aware they’ve been missing for nineteen days, but don’t acquaint that to them being gone for nineteen days. Their phone battery has obviously run out of juice and they’re in the middle of the ocean somewhere on a ship. They’d be in touch if they could.

  Once a pet cat of mine went missing. He’d been coming in smelling of smoke. Not wanting his dinner
. I stapled a note to his collar saying I get fed at home, don’t feed me. At first, he went missing overnight. Then one day he didn’t come home at all. I was heartbroken. More so than if he’d died. He could have been knocked down and killed, but I didn’t think that was the case. I thought he was living somewhere else, with a smoker who offered him better food, a better life. It was the not knowing that ate at me. Was he trapped? Was he dead? Had he been stolen? I didn’t know. Just that he never came home.

  What if this happens with Eden? What if I never discover where she is? Have they kidnapped her? Is she-? No. I leap out of bed and head for the bathroom.

  ‘Whatimesit?’ mumbles Dave, disturbed by my fidgeting.

  ‘Early. Go back to sleep.’ I grab my robe for when I’ve finished in the loo. There’ll be no more sleep for me now.

  It’s mid-October and the view from Dave’s semi-detached house window is dull. The garden has a slight smattering of frost across it. I stare out wondering what to do today. The absence of work and the frustration of not being able to solve the mystery of Eden’s whereabouts means time’s dragging on forever.

  While ever I’m here, Dave will hope for more. He assumes I’ve moved in. We met clubbing. Dave is two years older than me and a whole foot taller, 6ft 2, to my 5ft 2. We look odd. He doesn’t care. He says his cock fits me just fine and that’s all that matters. I’m not ready to settle down. I’ve not held down a proper job, I’ve seen nothing of the world. An embryonic twenty-one-year-old. Then I think of Eden and a chill descends that leaves me feeling like proposing to Dave. To commit myself to a safe but boring world where I don’t have to think about the seedy side of life. From the moment I met her, all I ever wanted to do was look after her. I’m from a loving family with the perfect two parents. I have three brothers and a sister, all older than I am. I’m the baby of the family, the Princess. They didn’t see Eden often but when they did they embraced her with open arms. The minute I went abroad and left her behind, she disappeared. They don’t know she’s missing. I haven’t told them. Largely because I blame myself. I told her to go for the job. Mainly because I wanted to take the job abroad and I knew that if she had nowhere to go, I would feel obliged to stay behind and take care of her. I was selfish and now she’s missing.