by Liz Harris
‘Evie!’ he shouted up the stairs.
He stood and listened. Silence. She’d probably fallen asleep at the desk, he thought in amusement. She was certainly somewhere in the house – there was no way she’d have gone out without switching on the alarm – and she obviously wasn’t in the kitchen or she would have heard him the first time he’d called out, so she must be upstairs. Right, he’d go up to Sleeping Beauty and surprise her.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he quickly reached the first landing, and he paused. On a sudden impulse, he pushed open the door to the bathroom she used – it was empty. She must definitely be in the study then, or possibly even in his den on the top floor.
A few more steps and he was in front of the study door.
The door was slightly ajar. Moving quietly forward so as not to disturb her, he pushed the door further open and peered round the door. He stopped short in surprise. Her chair was empty. His gaze fell to the floor, and he saw that her cushion was on the floor next to the chair.
He let go of the door handle, went slowly into the room and looked around him. Her used cup was still on the desk. That was unusual, he thought – she always put any dirty cutlery and crockery into the dishwasher before she went home. How strange. He glanced under the desk by her chair to see if her bag was there. No, there was no sign of any bag. So where was she? He ran out of the study and bounded up the stairs to his den, shouting out her name.
His den was silent, empty.
She wasn’t in the house; and whatever the reason she’d left, she’d left in a great hurry. Perhaps she’d been taken ill – a sudden chill came over him – or maybe someone she knew had been taken ill. A serious illness would explain her leaving the house as quickly as she could and forgetting to activate the alarm.
Deep in thought, he went slowly back down to his study and walked over to her place on the desk. The area in front of her chair was empty and the computer was switched off. He turned and looked towards his swivel chair and saw a small piece of paper on the desk where he usually sat. He felt almost weak with relief – whatever it was, she’d had time to leave him a message. He leaned across the desk, picked up the paper and read it.
I’m sorry, Tom. I didn’t do it. You must believe me, but I know you won’t. I’m really sorry. Love, Evie
No doodling. No heart.
Breaking out in a cold sweat, he pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked on her number again. Her phone was still switched off.
He pulled out her chair and sat down heavily. Didn’t do what? What on earth could she be talking about? And why wouldn’t he believe her? What could she have done – or what could people say she’d done – that was so awful that she’d have to walk out on him just like that. She was an agency temp, for God’s sake!
The agency! How stupid of him! He should have thought of the agency at once – they were certain to know what was going on. He’d wasted valuable minutes.
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost seven o’clock. His heart sank: it was highly unlikely that anyone would be at the agency that late on a Friday night. The most he could do would be to leave them a message, asking them to call him the following day.
And the following day was hours away.
He pulled his large desk diary over to him and looked up the agency’s number. He might just strike lucky, he thought as he listened to the dialling tone, there could be an eager beaver working later than the rest.
The answerphone cut in after the ringing tone had sounded five times, and he heard a mechanical voice welcoming him to the agency and asking him to leave his name, contact number and a short message.
Stressing the need to speak to someone as soon as possible about their temp, Evie Shaw, he left his number, reminded them that he was an excellent client and said that he expected to be contacted by someone the moment they picked up his message; then he put the phone down and sat back. At least he’d made a start towards finding her, pathetic though it was, but there must be something else he could do.
He picked up her note and read it again.
Think clearly, he told himself. If she, or someone she knew, was ill, she would have said so in the note, no matter how briefly. But she didn’t say anything along those lines – so illness must be ruled out. The facts that the note was rushed, that she’d denied doing anything wrong but was obviously afraid that he wouldn’t believe her, and that she’d left the house at speed, all pointed towards her being in trouble.
So where would she go if she was in trouble? Of course! There was only one place she’d go – she’d go back to Camden Town, to Jess and Rachel. He was being amazingly dense that evening. If there was any sort of crisis in her life, she was bound to want to be with her friends. That should have been the first thing he’d thought of. He stood up. He didn’t have a phone number for the house – in fact, he didn’t even know if they had a land line – but he did know where the house was.
Please God, he prayed as he ran down the stairs two at a time, please God, let Evie be there.
Chapter Twenty-Four
O Evie, Evie! Wherever art thou, Evie?
Twenty minutes later, Tom had parked the BMW and was standing in front of the Camden Town house. His heart beating fast, he rang the doorbell and stood back. Muffled chimes reverberated throughout the interior of the house. There was no other sound from within.
He tried the bell again. Still no answer. Damn, there was clearly no one in the house, which was a bit surprising. He wouldn’t have thought they’d all still be at work at that time. Although, come to think of it, Evie had said that one of them was an events’ planner, which meant that she was bound to work some evenings.
Of course, it might simply be that they’d stopped for a drink on their way home, in which case there was a strong possibility that Evie had joined them. He stared at the closed door and wondered whether or not they were with her, and if so, where they might be.
He took a step back from the house and looked towards the upstairs windows. It was a warm evening, but the windows were all closed. No, there was definitely no one at home. He glanced in both directions along the street, but there was no sign of Evie, nor of anyone likely to be one of her two friends.
Dejected, he turned away from the door, went back to his car and got into it. Drumming his fingers against the wheel, he stared ahead through the windscreen. He’d just have to be patient and stay there a while longer – one or all of the girls might have only gone for a short walk and be back at any minute. And even if they were out for longer than that, possibly at a restaurant, he’d still stay on – they’d have to come home at some point and he was going to be there when they did.
He positioned the windscreen mirror so that he could see the pavement behind him, and settled back into his seat, alternating keeping his eyes on the pavement in front of him or on the reflection in the mirror.
An hour passed with no movement at all. He didn’t really know what to do, whether to carry on sitting there or whether to drive around for a bit on the off chance that he might see her. She’d told him that she and her friends sometimes ate at Wagamama, so he could make a start there and come back to the house later on if he didn’t have any luck.
He groaned out loud. What bloody use would it be to do that!
He put his hands to his head in despair. Even if he went to every restaurant, bar and club in Camden Town, if Evie wasn’t with Rachel and Jess, he’d be totally wasting his time – he hadn’t a clue what her housemates looked like. He could hardly walk into the middle of a place and shout out, ‘Anyone here called Rachel and Jess?’ Well, he could, but he’d soon find himself facing a charge of disturbing the peace.
A movement in the windscreen mirror caught his eye and he swiftly slid up in his seat, twisted round and stared through the car window. A blonde girl carrying a large bag in each hand was coming along the pavement behind him, walking towards him. She passed his car, went up to the front door of the house and put her bags down on the groun
d.
He jumped out of the car and dashed up to her.
‘Are you Rachel or Jess?’ he asked in a rush. ‘Do you know where Evie is? I can’t get hold of her.’
The girl stopped looking for her key and stared curiously at him. ‘Tom, I presume. Or an escaped nutter.’ She glanced pointedly at his flapping waistcoat and shirt sleeves.
‘You’re right, I’m Tom. And you’ve just confirmed that you do, indeed, own one of the two heads I saw hanging out of the window last Saturday night.’
‘Spot on. I’m Jess.’ She held out her hand to him. ‘Pleased to meet you, Tom.’
He shook her hand. ‘I know that I’ve dispensed with the social niceties, Jess, and I do apologise, but I badly need to see Evie. I don’t know if you know what’s happened, but one minute she was working in my house, and the next she was gone. She’s just disappeared and I don’t know where she is.’
‘Have you rung her?’
‘Over and over again, but her phone’s switched off. I rather hoped she was here. She left the briefest of messages and I don’t know what to make of it all. Here, look at this.’ He pulled out the piece of paper that Evie had left him and held it out to her. She took it and glanced at it. ‘We were meant to be going out this evening. I don’t know what to do.’ He shrugged his shoulders helplessly.
Jess stared at him for a moment. ‘Come on in, Tom. Have a coffee with me. You look like you need one, or even something stronger.’
‘Coffee’s fine,’ he said, and he followed her into the house.
He sat down in the armchair and forced himself to sit patiently while she put her bags in the kitchen and then went and rummaged in one of the upstairs rooms. At last she came back downstairs, made them each a coffee and sank down on to the sofa opposite him.
‘I seem to have bought enough food to feed a whole army,’ she said. ‘As always.’
‘Look, if it’s not rude, Jess, can we cut to the chase? Have you heard from Evie? Do you know what’s going on? Because I haven’t a clue and I’m worried about her.’
‘Has it occurred to you that if she wanted to speak to you, her phone wouldn’t be switched off and she’d be where you could find her?’ Jess asked bluntly, watching Tom over the rim of the mug as she sipped her coffee.
‘But why wouldn’t she want to speak to me? What can have happened to make her take off like that?’ He stared at her, bewildered.
‘Who knows what goes on in other people’s heads?’
‘You do know where she is, don’t you? She must have called you.’
‘Nope, I’ve no idea where she is, but she did phone earlier – you’re right about that.’
‘And?’
‘And nothing. It wasn’t exactly a conversation – she just said that someone had done the dirty on her, but she didn’t expect me to believe her, and she ended the call. That’s all I can tell you. It’s more or less the same as she said to you.’
‘Do you have any idea what she means?’
‘I’m not sure. Nor is Rachel – she phoned Rachel, too, and Rachel called me after she’d spoken to Evie. We can make a guess, but it’s such a far-fetched idea that we could be wrong and we’re not going to say anything. Not this side of the weekend, anyway.’
‘Do you mind if I stay here for a bit until she comes back? Presumably she’ll have to come back at some point tonight. If it’s not convenient, though, I can always sit in the car.’
Jess hesitated a moment. ‘I’m afraid you might have a long wait. When I got in, I checked Evie’s room – she’s been back here since leaving your house and she’s taken some clothes. Also, her make up and stuff have gone. I don’t think she plans on coming back for at least a few days.’
‘Gone? Gone where?’
‘I’m sorry but I’ve absolutely no idea.’ She stood up. ‘I hate to say it, Tom, but I’ve got to get changed – I must get off shortly to meet some friends. And no, Evie isn’t one of them. I’d tell you if she was. I promise you that if she rings again, I’ll try to persuade her to call you, but that’s the best I can do, I’m afraid.’
He stood up, pulled his wallet out of his pocket, took out a couple of business cards and handed them to Jess. ‘There’s a card for you and one for Rachel; you’ll find my number on it. I’d be grateful if you asked Rachel to call me if she has any news.’
‘Right you are.’ She started to lead the way to the front door. ‘I’m sorry for what Evie’s doing to you, Tom. I can see that you’re really upset. I promise I’ll contact you if there’s anything at all to tell you.’
‘What about her parents?’ He stopped abruptly, a note of hope lifting his voice. ‘Girls always go back to their mothers, don’t they?’
‘Not if their parents are in Australia, they don’t. Or at least, certainly not on the spur of the moment. I think you need papers and visas and whatnots. Anyway, I can’t see her turning to her parents. Even though she loves them, she’s not seen them for yonks. I can’t imagine her running off to them just because she’s done something wrong and everything’s in a mess.’
‘So you do think she’s done something wrong?’ He stared intently at her. ‘Yes, you do. I can see it in your face.’
‘I don’t know what to think, Tom, I really don’t.’ She hesitated. ‘I can make a guess at what it might be, but it’s so unlikely, and such a long shot, that I’m not going to say any more than that. All I know for certain is that if she did do something she shouldn’t have done, it’ll have only been because she was put in a position where she couldn’t avoid doing it. I’m not saying any more now – I think I’ve probably said more than I should as it is.’ She walked to the front door, opened it and stepped back to let Tom pass through.
Nodding to her, he went out of the house, got into his car and drove off.
Evie stared at the last two messages she’d just received on her mobile: one from Rachel and one from Jess, both of them urging her to get in touch with Tom. He was worried. He deserved an explanation of what was going on. They all did.
That was today. Things would change on Monday, once everyone knew the truth. Or thought they knew the truth. She hated herself for what had happened, and if she hated herself for what she’d done, then she could just imagine the way that Tom was going to feel about her.
She scrolled back and looked at all of the missed calls and messages from Tom. She’d read the first two texts he’d sent her, and then no more – their warmth and anxiety hurt too much. She looked again at the last messages from Rachel and Jess, then she turned the phone off and tucked it back into her pocket. On Monday, the messages would change their tune and there was no way she was going to read them. The phone would stay off.
Tom went slowly up the stairs to his study and sat down behind his desk.
If she’d left Camden Town and wasn’t with Jess and Rachel – and he was pretty sure that Jess wasn’t lying – and she wasn’t with her parents, where could she be? It hit home hard to him that he didn’t really know her that well. Apart from Rachel and Jess, he’d never heard her mention any friends, except Gabriela, of course.
Gabriela! He sat bolt upright. Now that was a possibility.
Gabriela might well know where Evie had gone. There was a real chance that Evie might have taken refuge with her from whatever it was. She and Gabriela had spent quite a bit of time together recently and had obviously been hitting it off brilliantly. If they hadn’t, Evie and her friends would never have taken Gabriela out with them in the evening. Doing that was way beyond the field of duty, so to speak.
His shoulders slumped in relief. Sometimes, if you got yourself into a mess, which was clearly what Jess and Rachel thought had happened, you needed someone who could stand back from it all and give you good advice, rather than a really close friend who might be too emotionally involved to think clearly. What could be more likely than that she’d turned to Gabriela in time of need? How stupid of him not to have thought of that sooner. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and rifled through
an assortment of business cards. Ah, there it was: Gabriela’s card with her details.
The telephone rang only twice before someone picked it up, but the wait felt like an eternity.
‘Hello?’ a female voice said at the other end of the line.
‘Hello, is that you, Gabriela?’
‘Tom? It is Tom, isn’t it?’ She sounded surprised to hear his voice, but pleased. Maybe a little nervous, too, he thought.
‘Yes, it is. Look, Gabriela, can I skip everything else and come straight to the point? I’m trying to get hold of Evie as I’m desperate to speak to her. She’s not at her house and she won’t take my phone calls. Is she by any chance with you?’
‘I can’t help you, Tom, I’m afraid. She’s not here.’
His momentary hope sank into despair. ‘I knew it was a long shot, but I just thought she might be with you. I don’t suppose she’s called you or given you any idea where she is?’
‘I’m afraid that I really don’t know where she is.’ Her voice was full of regret. ‘If I did know, I would tell you at once. She seemed so mixed up when I spoke to her.’
‘Mixed up? What do you mean?’
The other end of the phone fell silent.
‘Gabriela, if you know anything, please tell me. What do you mean, “mixed up”?’
‘I don’t like to say.’ Her voice was hesitant with obvious reluctance. ‘Evie is my friend.’
‘And I’m sure you know what I think of her. You and I, we’re both her friends. If she’s done anything she shouldn’t, or anything at all has happened to upset her, please tell me where she is so that I can go and help her.’
‘I don’t know where she is.’ Her voice broke into a little sob. ‘But I am worried about her, Tom. She said that she had done something she really regretted, and that you’d hate her when you found out. I think that that might be why she has gone.’