by NC Marshall
“Yeah, fine, Tony, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she answers confidently. He smiles and leaves after giving me a final unsure glance. Chrissy closes the door after him and makes sure that there is nobody around.
“It’s probably not what you think Emily,” she says quietly.
“Oh, really, Chrissy? And what’s that? That your partner, the man in charge of the investigation into Ali’s disappearance, was having an affair with her?” I stand up again and meet Chrissy’s eye. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because it was over a while before she seemingly disappeared. There was no point in him being part of it, he had no involvement in her apparent disappearance Emily.”
“How can you be so sure?” I feel betrayed that Mark didn’t feel he could tell me about him and Ali.
“Oh, come on, Emily, it was all a huge misunderstanding. You know that now. The bloke wouldn’t hurt a fly. You know that as much as I do.”
“What about his wife? Does she know about their affair?” Feeling sickened, I pick up the picture of Mark’s family from the desk and thrust it in her face.
Chrissy takes the photo and carefully places it back down on the desk. “Mark’s wife Kim died almost two years ago. Breast cancer.”
I am speechless for a few moments and stand gawping at Chrissy before finally finding my words again. “He… he didn’t say.”
“Yeah, still struggling with losing her. Ali was the first woman he has gotten close to since losing Kim. They had a brief relationship, but Mark felt too guilty to carry it on, even after well over a year. He still found it hard to move on from losing his wife. Felt like he was betraying her memory in some way.”
“But he still wears a wedding band.”
“Hasn’t quite got round to taking it off yet. Anyway, it only lasted a few months. He finished things with Ali a couple of months back.”
“It might have been brief, but Ali really cared for him. She thought it was serious.”
“That may have been the case, and I believe he really cared for her too, but the timing was all wrong.”
“How has he managed to be in charge of the investigation and not let on? Surely it was hard for him?”
“He’s been beating himself up since he found out Ali was missing. He made damn sure both of us were actively involved with the investigation. Much more so than we normally would in other missing person's cases like Ali’s. We’ve been working day and night to find her. He swore he wouldn't stop until he did. It’s been killing him inside.”
“Who else knows he was seeing her?” I ask. I pray that she doesn’t say Tom’s name. I can't cope with him keeping this from me too.
“Just me,” says Chrissy. I let out a breath that I didn’t even realise I was holding.
“Mark broke down one day and told me everything. He’s a good guy, Emily, he wanted to find her as much as you and I did. In all honesty, I think it's made him see how much he cares for Ali. I think he’s starting to regret ever finishing things with her.”
I nod.
“How did you find out about them, Emily?” Chrissy asks, narrowing her eyes at me suspiciously.
I don’t answer.
“You may as well come clean. I spoke to Ali earlier. I know she hasn’t spoken to you yet so she couldn’t have told you about her and Mark.”
Shit! I close my eyes and leave them closed before I reopen them. “I went to her house.” I whisper. Chrissy looks shocked.
“Damn it, Emily. Why didn’t you tell us you had been there?”
“I found a diary she kept and read it,” I continue. “Ali mentioned a man she was involved with, but there was never a name, then I found out it was Mark. Just a little while ago.”
“How did you find out it was him?”
“A charm she mentioned he had given her fell out of the pocket of a jacket he lent me the other day, after I’d been in hospital.”
Chrissy purses her lips. Placing her hands on her hips, she looks at the floor and begins to pace as if trying to figure out her next move.
“That’s not all,” I continue. I know that I’m in deep shit as it is so I may as well continue and tell Chrissy the rest. “I’ve had a couple of notes, a text message was sent to my phone, and a poster delivered to me at the cabin that I didn’t tell you about. I even though I saw her at one point, but I was obviously wrong about that.”
Chrissy’s head snaps back up. “God, Emily, why the hell didn’t you tell us? You know that withholding information from the police is a criminal offence, don’t you?” She’s understandably angry.
I take a gulp. My throat is dry and scratchy. That’s rich coming from her tonight! She and Mark have withheld their fair share of information too, and they are the police.
“I thought it was her. That Ali was sending me things and she said not to tell anyone. I worried that she was in trouble. She asked me not to go to the police. So I didn’t.”
Chrissy nods and seems to mellow, slightly.
“Mark thinks it’s just some fan of hers who tried to get an investigation started to get Ali back in the limelight,” I say.
Chrissy continues to pace the small amount of floor space in the office and stays silent a few moments while she thinks. “Yeah, we’ve discussed that could be a possibility,” she answers. “But that was without the addition of the other messages sent to you. To me, it now seems that you may be more of a target than Ali was. Is there anybody who could have been messing with you Emily, anybody who would want you torment you as they have been doing the past few days?”
“No,” I say, immediately.
“Anybody who would want to get you back to Sandbroke maybe?”
I go to answer, then suddenly, the smell in the cabin tonight barges its way to the front of my mind. The feeling that someone was watching me, the train tickets in the wrong place, the photo on the fridge, the flowers from another man spread in a shattered vase across the kitchen floor. I feel myself start to tremble. Chrissy grabs my elbow and sits me back down as my balance is lost.
“How could I have been so stupid?” I ask. Chrissy already has her phone out of her pocket and on the desk, a pen is poised in her hand in preparation for what I am about to tell her. “He did all this to get me back here. He wanted to see me so he’s been following me and watching me.”
“Who is it, Emily? Who’s behind all this?”
There’s no doubt in my mind now. The person I thought I had left in my past has caught up with me. The smell in the cabin earlier is the same aftershave he used to wear back when we were together, the heavy musky fragrance I've tried so hard to vanquish from my mind. He’s come back. He’s found me. Just like part of me always knew he would. The messages, the text, the notes; it's all been him. I take a deep breath and tears fill my eyes.
“I think it’s one of my ex-boyfriends,” I say. “His name’s Jake. Jake Saunders.”
Chapter 30
I’m now on the train back to Newcastle. After telling Chrissy everything yesterday, I knew the logical thing to do was to get out of Sandbroke and get back to my family as quickly as possible. If all of this has been Jake playing games, as Chrissy thinks it could have been, then the safest place for me is back home and away from Sandbroke. I’ve lived in the North East for over fifteen years and he’s never traced me, so nothing makes me believe he would be able to now. I’m getting away from him. For good this time. Jake had always been a huge game player when we were together. He enjoyed having control over those around him. Pulling a stunt like this was right up his street and I am annoyed at myself for playing straight into his hands.
I had tried desperately to get home last night, but Chrissy had to follow procedure and take statements from me. Even though she rushed through as fast as she could, I was still far too late to catch the last train. I had checked the nearest airport to see if I could get a last-minute flight, but there was no availability at such short notice.
I’m four hours into the train journey home when Mark calls me to tell me To
m has been in an accident, that it looks as though he fell from his balcony, and even though neither of us say anything we both know what each other are thinking. Jake. He had fallen from the side balcony of his apartment and was found by one of the tavern’s waitresses, unconscious. He is in hospital now. He’s awake with three broken ribs and a fractured wrist, but can't remember a thing about what happened. Mark assures me that he’s fine and it could have been a lot worse. I feel sick.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me and Ali,” says Mark, before we end the call.
“Me too,” I reply. “But I kind of see why you didn’t.”
“Thanks, Em.” Mark’s breath shudders and I imagine him closing his eyes. I’d never really stopped to think about how hard this must have been on him. Mark just isn’t the sort to date a woman and not form any kind of feelings for her. I refuse to believe that he was as cold-hearted as Ali made out in her diary.
“I’m sorry for not being honest about the messages and about Ali’s diary. If I had been, you might have put two and two together and realised that it was never really Ali sending them to me at all.”
“Do you still have the diary?” Mark asks directly.
“It's on a memory stick. I left it with Chrissy at the station last night. Please apologise to Ali when you give it back to her. I feel like I've invaded her privacy reading it.”
“I’m sure she won't mind, given the circumstances.”
“She really cares for you Mark,” I blurt out. I can't help myself, the words are out of my mouth before I have time to process them properly. I know that really it’s none of my business.
Mark ignores my statement and quickly changes the subject as he proceeds to tell me they are looking into the possibility that it was Jake sending the messages to me.
“We're looking for Jake now,” Mark says. “Seems he left Sandbroke a few months after you did, and he was bragging around the town that he was moving away to be with the woman he loved. We all assumed back then that was you. That’s where the confusion came from, why everyone in Sandbroke thought you had moved away together.”
“Nope, he definitely didn’t go anywhere with me. I left Sandbroke to get away from him,” I confess.
“Yeah, I’d guessed that. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. The embarrassment I suppose. I was an idiot for staying with him as long as I did. Nobody liked him. I was the only one who didn’t see him for what he really was.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed for,” says Mark. “So who did he leave town with?”
“He had a few women on the go while he was in a relationship with me. You could take your pick from them.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Em, he sounds like a horrible piece of work. I hate to bring all this back up, but do you know anyone he may still be in contact with?”
“Not a clue, I stopped caring a long time ago.”
“I understand. Well, we’ll keep digging. If it was him, then he couldn’t be far.”
“Keep me posted, Mark. I want to know what's going through that bastard’s mind as much as you do.”
“Will do, Em, look after yourself.”
I hesitate before I speak again. “Mark?”
“Yeah.”
“Will you tell Tom I hope he’s better soon?” I pause and take a deep breath before I continue, “and that I’m sorry.”
“Sorry about what?”
“Sorry about everything.” I flush, even though he can't visibly see me. I know that Mark and Tom are close and Tom is likely to have already told him about what happened between us last night.
Mark doesn't deny he knows about it and keeps his reply as noticeably casual as possible, most probably to avoid any more disgrace on my part. “Gotcha, no probs. I will.”
“Thanks, Mark.”
“Bye for now, Em.”
“Bye.”
Tears prick my eyes as I hang up on Mark. A little while later, the familiar overcast skies, the famous bridges and tall city buildings creep into view as the train makes its way over the River Tyne on its approach to the station. It’s late afternoon now, and I imagine the city centre bustling full of Saturday afternoon shoppers; a comfort of knowing I’m home floods in around me. I’m on the station platform, making my way to the exit, when my phone text alert sounds, probably Lucy. She was going shopping today and said she would meet me at the station, she’ll be waiting outside. I can't wait to see her. These past few days have only made me appreciate how lucky I am to have what I do. So what if I have a job that doesn’t pay well or a home that isn’t a gleaming mansion like Ali’s? It's my home and that’s all that matters. I won't ever question it again.
I reach into my handbag, but when I pull out my phone and study the display, I see it's not a message from Lucy, but looking at the unknown number, I know instantly that it's from the same phone that I received the text from earlier in the week. My hand shakes as I press the button to open the photo attached to a blank text message.
Time slows around me and the busy station begins to move in slow motion as a photo of my daughter shopping in the city centre taken an hour ago, emerges onto the screen.
Chapter 31
“For Christ’s sake Mark, pick up your damn phone!” I shout loudly into my mobile. People passing by on the train station platform stare at me. I’m hysterical now and am well beyond the point of caring. A station guard spots me and begins to approach me cautiously.
“Are you alright, pet?” I ignore the man and turn my back to him, moving further along the platform. Announcements blare over the station speakers alerting travellers to a delay on the 15:59 service to London Kings Cross. People continue to rush around me; the strong smell of black coffee and greasy pasties from a nearby café hits me and forces me to stop as I gag. He has my daughter. I know he has her.
I imagine Jake and Lucy meeting. Jake will coax her into a false sense of security, something he was always been good at. That's why nobody in Sandbroke knew what he was really like, not completely. He would put on an act and easily fool them all into believing he was the best thing on this earth. He also had a wildly possessive personality, and I know that if he gets his hands on her he will know straight away she is his daughter and once that happens there isn’t a chance in hell he would let her go.
Finally, Mark picks up.
“Hi Em, I was just about to call you,” he says, oblivious to the bordering psychotic state I have entered.
“He has my daughter, Mark,” I blurt out. My voice is raised, attempting to overpower the sound of the station announcements and the louder sound of my own heart pounding in my ears.
“Your daughter?” Mark asks, clearly taken aback. “I didn't know you had a daughter.”
“Yes, Lucy. She’s fifteen.”
Mark pauses. “Okay, calm down, Em. Who has your daughter?”
“Who do you think? Jake. He’s here, he knows she would be here. He found out somehow. She’s his daughter, Mark, but I never told him. He’s going to take her. I know it.” My words are coming out rushed and muddled. I’m trying to make sense and I’m praying that Mark can grasp what I’m trying to tell him. He responds quickly.
“Emily, Emily please slow down.”
“He must have got the last train here last night, or a flight to make it here before me. He found out where I live, Mark, and tracked down Lucy.” I look around the station frantically.
“Emily, stop, Jake doesn’t have your daughter and he isn’t in Newcastle,” says Mark.
“What do you mean? He sent me a photo of her, he—”
“That’s what I was about to call to tell you. Jake is in prison, Em. Has been for a while and will stay there for a very long time...”
“What? Prison? But…” My head spins.
“He’s been in and out for years. Drugs, GBH, ABH you name it, he’s been charged with it. Then, a year ago, he was involved in a car accident. He was driving under the influence and wrapped his car around a
tree. He got away unharmed, but his passenger died at the scene.” Mark pauses and I hear him taking a sharp intake of breath before he continues. “The passenger was his daughter, twelve years old. He refused to admit responsibility. He killed his own child.”
“God, that’s horrible.” I put my free hand to my mouth and desperately try to pull my mind away from his poor daughter for the time being simply because I know I have to focus on my own.
“Hold on, so he hasn’t been in Sandbroke either?” I ask, now thoroughly confused.
“Nope. Impossible.”
“So then who has been sending me the notes, the photo? If it wasn’t Jake, then who?” My mind races. Anger rips through me.
“That’s what we are trying to find out, Em.”
“Someone has taken a photo of my daughter, Mark, it was only today. They sent it through to my phone a couple of minutes ago. Lucy isn’t answering her phone and she always answers her phone. Something’s happened. I need to get to her.” I can hear the desperation in my own voice.
“Where are you now? Are you still on the train?” asks Mark. I can hear him moving around the police station as the background voices emerge.
“No. I've just arrived. I'm at Newcastle Central Station.”
“Okay, stay there. I’ll get on to Northumbria police and explain what happened. They’ll come and get you and take you to find your daughter. It's not safe for you to go alone.”
I’m crying now, sobbing as people continue to stare. “Okay.”
“Don’t worry, Em, it’s just someone playing games with you. We’ll catch the psycho, you can take my word for it.”
I take a deep breath and try to steady my shaking voice. “I hope so, Mark. I really hope so.”
Part Six
Chapter 32
Lucy
I press my face close to the glass display cabinet and pick out the prettiest thing I can see that falls within my small price range—a silver necklace with a small mother of pearl heart attached. I ask the shop assistant behind the counter to wrap it as nicely as she can. I tap my fingers against the glass as the girl fiddles with pink bows and sparkly love heart confetti. I’m conscious of the time. Mum’s train will be arriving soon and I said I would be at the station to meet her. My phone battery has died, no doubt she is trying to call. She’ll kill me when she sees me. I’m sure she’ll cheer up when she opens her present.