by Teri Terry
And Shay isn’t what I expect. I don’t know what I expected, exactly, but she isn’t it. She’s got loads of dark curly hair, an intelligent glint to her gaze. I’m guessing she’s a little younger than he is. Attractive enough with those big blue eyes, but slight, slender, not the type something tells me he’d usually go for. And she says what she thinks, seems to unbalance him.
And this isn’t a date either, that is clear. From the things they said when they got here, they’re on some kind of mission.
But when Kai bolts back out front without Shay, I’m surprised. He’s angry. The muscles are set in his arms, his jaw. He throws on his helmet and starts the bike.
Where is Shay? I shrug. Maybe they had a fight. I don’t like her wearing my helmet and hanging on to him the way she did from the station on his bike.
Good riddance.
But when we get to the main road, he slows, and finally stops. He turns the bike, and we go back.
Shay is standing where the bike had been parked. She watches us approach, her arms crossed in front of her.
“For a minute there, I thought you’d left without me,” she says.
“I almost did.”
“Why?”
“You were giving him that starstruck look, like his students do. Like Mum used to before she figured him out. Like Calista did.” He says the last sentence so quietly I’m not sure if I heard or imagined it.
“You idiot. If you’d waited a moment, you’d have heard what I found out.”
“What?”
“That model of the atom by the door was similar to the necklace that Calista was wearing.”
“And?”
“He was surprised I recognized it. He said something I don’t think he meant to say.”
“Which was?”
“That he gave it to her the last time he saw her. And I’m sure he was telling the truth. Did you ever see it?”
“No. I don’t think so, anyhow. Though she’d hardly make a point of showing me something he gave her.”
“How about your mum? Surely if he gave Calista a gold necklace with a model of an atom, your mother would know about it.”
“You’re right. I’ll ask her.”
“You know, it is easier to find out stuff from somebody if you’re nice to them. That’s all I was doing.”
“Okay. You’re right, again.”
“And? Is there anything else you want to say?”
He looks sheepish. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. And why didn’t you tell me he’s Calista’s dad?”
I turn in shock. Kai’s stepfather…is my father? How can I not remember this? I look back at the building they came out of. Is it too late? Could I go back in and find him?
But I don’t even know what he looks like. Shouldn’t I know this? I stamp my foot. I want to scream at all the things I’ve forgotten, but no one would hear me if I did.
“I try to blot who her father is out of my mind,” Kai says. “Does it make any difference?”
“I just didn’t like looking surprised in front of him, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry. Again. But none of this changes the fact that I’m sure that, somehow, he was involved in Calista’s disappearance; I just need to find a way to prove it. Then I can find her and bring her home.”
What? My own father?
“I know,” Shay says, and puts her hand on his arm, her posture softening. “I know that you think he is responsible. But until you have proof, maybe you should try to accept you might be wrong. Having an open mind might help you find what you’re looking for.”
Kai stares back at her, then finally nods. “I’ll try,” he says. “And I know he seems so reasonable and nice when you meet him. I used to think that too. But you don’t know him like I do. He’s got a way of manipulating people….Well. It’s hard to explain, but he used to play around with all of us, like we were pieces on a chessboard that had to stand where he wanted.”
Shay listens, nods. “Just because he wasn’t a good husband or stepfather doesn’t mean he took your sister, though.”
“Maybe not,” Kai says, but I can tell he doesn’t mean it. “Now, can I give you a lift home?”
She shakes her head. “I got a return train ticket, might as well use it.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”
“It’s fine.”
Kai takes her to the station. When she says goodbye, there is a struggle, a hesitation, on his face. One hand half raised that falls back. Does he want to reach out, to hold her? Even though he doesn’t do so, jealousy wriggles inside me.
All the way to Newcastle, I ride on the back of his bike, just the two of us. The way it should be. I imagine things I cannot feel: the red helmet on my head, the breeze in my face, my hair streaming out behind me. The sway of corners and bumps of the road. The force of speed.
And I think about the man they went to see: my father. It seems weird now that before I found them in Newcastle, all I could think of was finding my mother and brother; father never came into it, and I didn’t even wonder why.
Maybe I didn’t like him either.
Kai thinks he had something to do with what happened to me; Shay seems to think Kai is wrong. I missed the chance to look my father in the eye and see what, if anything, I remember.
Another time, Daddy dearest, I promise myself. Another time.
CHAPTER 15
SHAY
FIRST ON THE TRAIN AND THEN THE BUS, I stare out the window without seeing what rushes past.
I’m feeling uneasy inside about what I said to Kai and about how I made him apologize. I was annoyed that he almost left me stranded there, fair enough. But there was something about his stepfather that had me in thrall. I can see why his students would idolize him.
Why women would too.
But what was it about his eyes that half freaked me out? It was almost like he knew I saw something in them—he blinked and looked away. When he looked back again, whatever it was—it was gone.
And why did my memory tickle inside when I saw his face, just like it did when Kai showed me his photograph? What was it about him? Dr. Alex Cross. Not a name I remember hearing before, yet something inside says I’ve seen him, or I’ve met him—but that doesn’t feel quite right. Something else, then?
If I’m patient, the memory will come.
It always does.
* * *
It happens when I don’t expect it. Mum is making dinner—I’m helping—and the radio is on. She’s dancing to some old song while she peels vegetables.
Mum…dancing.
And it clicks into place, inside.
I close my eyes and go back…
I’m in Mum’s bedroom when she isn’t home, looking for—looking for presents? It’s near my birthday. My tenth birthday. I shouldn’t be snooping around like this, but I am.
In her top drawer, under knickers and socks, one questing finger feels the edge of something. I catch it with a fingernail, lift it up, and take it out.
It’s a photograph.
I hold it in my hand. It’s Mummy, but not like I’ve ever seen her before. She’s much younger, and her hair is up. She’s got lipstick on, and she’s wearing some long, swishy dress. It’s green. And she’s dancing with a man.
I don’t know him, I’m sure of that. But there is something about him that makes me look, and look again.
He’s older than Mum, and in some sort of fancy suit like you see in the movies, with a bow tie. He’s tall and has dark hair, a bit long. His eyes are blue. A deep, piercing blue.
I go back to look at the photo now and then, somehow knowing that when something is hidden away like that, it isn’t for asking about.
And then, one day, it’s gone.
Mum snaps her fingers.
“Earth to Shay. Are you going to elope with that lettuce, or make it into a salad? Because dinner is nearly ready.”
I shake my head, coming back to here, to now. I put the lettuce I’d absentmindedly held u
p against me down on the cutting board and turn to Mum.
“I have to ask you about something.”
“Go on.”
“Years ago, you had a photo hidden away, of you all dressed up. Dancing with a man.” I describe it: her dress, his suit. The way he held her close. “Who was he?”
She shrugs, turns to get plates out of the cupboard. “I don’t really remember. Somebody I dated years ago, maybe. Why?”
“He just looks like somebody else, that’s all.”
She turns to me now. “Who? Who does he look like?”
I shrug, somehow not wanting to answer, and not knowing why—beyond not wanting to admit that I skipped school. “Somebody I saw, that’s all.”
“Where?”
“For someone you can’t really remember, you seem very curious. Who was he?”
“Nobody, Shay. Nobody at all.”
She’s lying. I’m both convinced of it and shocked. Mum doesn’t lie to me.
Who was Dr. Cross to her?
* * *
That night we’re watching the late news. The Aberdeen flu, they’re calling it now, and there are mixed reports about what is happening there. And rumors that it’s spreading south. A doctor comes on and describes the early symptoms: a slightly raised temperature and a headache that begins like a tension headache, one that quickly becomes more severe, with a high temperature. Within hours, aches and pains intensify, leading to severe internal pain and organ failure. They don’t fill in and death, but that’s what organ failure means, isn’t it?
Now there are scenes of tented hospitals set up in fields. Doctors and nurses in full protective gear, like giant plastic suits, head to toe.
This is happening here, in Scotland? Mum and I look at each other, and back to the screen, unable to take it in.
There are concerns about how it is spreading so quickly, what causes it.
Undisclosed numbers of casualties.
Schools are to be closed across all of Scotland from tomorrow; there is a ban on travel. Door-to-door temperature checks will begin.
Mum gets up, says she is going to call a friend in Aberdeen.
I take out my phone: no message from Kai. Should I send him one? I bite my lip for a while, unsure, but at the end of whatever internal debate I’m having on texting dos and don’ts, I’m just worried about him.
Hi Kai, schools are closed across Scotland tomorrow, hurrah! Hope all is OK S xx.
I check it carefully for any unintended autocorrects, then hit “send,” whispering, “Please answer, Kai,” as I do. If there is no answer, I won’t know if that means he’s annoyed I’m pestering him, or if he isn’t okay. I shake my head. Why am I being like this? It’s not like he’s in Aberdeen, but I’m worried just the same.
Mum comes back a moment later, her face pale.
“They’re taking people away. They’re going to their houses in those funny suits and putting them in bubbles. And taking them away in big ambulances. No one ever comes back. Is that what’s happened to Davy?”
A number flashes on the screen, and a voiceover says, “Anyone having these symptoms is to stay at home and call this number.”
CHAPTER 16
CALLIE
KAI SLIPS INTO what must have been my room. He shuts the door behind him and stands there, hesitant, like he’s in a church and should pray but doesn’t quite know how.
His phone beeps in his pocket, and he jumps, takes it out. Smiles a proper smile, one that makes his eyes crinkle and light up. I look over his shoulder: there’s a text from Shay.
He starts touching the screen to text back. Enjoy your holiday! I’m fine(ish), better now I’ve heard from you. Take care, K xx.
He hits “send,” then takes a deep breath and starts going through a small wooden jewelry box on my dresser. Fascinated, I watch: will I recognize anything? His hands are tentative at first, then more certain, as he goes through each little drawer. I didn’t have much, and what is there is mostly kid stuff. Though there is one pretty thing I like: a fine silver chain with a dolphin hanging from it. Kai touches it in a way that says it means something to him.
What is he looking for? Is it the necklace Shay said was like the model of an atom?
But Shay said I was wearing it when I disappeared.
How would Shay know what I was wearing?
It is so frustrating! Not being able to ask questions, to talk to people. All I can do is watch and listen.
Kai reaches for another small box on my dresser, and his hand knocks something to the floor; there is a small tinkly noise as it breaks. Kai makes more noise when he sees it on the floor. He starts picking up bits of glass and curses when he cuts his finger.
There are faint footsteps on the stairs.
Mum opens the door, and Kai spins around.
“Hi. I thought I heard you up here.” She looks at the pieces of glass in his hand. Her face saddens. “Ah, Teddy Bear. Have you jumped off the dresser?”
“I’m sorry. It was my fault; I knocked it.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it isn’t. It was her favorite.” His face is anguished.
“Let me see that hand.”
She draws him into the bathroom, washes it. “Antiseptic, bandage. Sometimes being a doctor feels useful. If only all your hurts were so easy to fix. Were you looking for something in Callie’s room?”
Kai shrugs. “I don’t know. There was a necklace, kind of like a model of an atom. I think he gave it to her.” He is said in a way that needs no explanation: the one he hates. My father.
“Why were you looking for it?” She looks at him closely and sighs. “You’ve been to see him again, haven’t you.” She says it as a statement, not a question. Maybe mothers can read guilty minds.
He shrugs. “Yes, but I didn’t take a swing at him, or even raise my voice.” She raises an eyebrow. “I may have wanted to, but I didn’t. And yes, before you ask, there was a good reason to go there.”
“Come on. Tell me.”
They go downstairs, and Mum makes tea. Kai tells her that he was with Shay, the girl who said she saw me. That the man she’d seen with me was in the paper and died in Shetland. He draws out a page from the newspaper, shows it to her. I peer over their shoulders, curious if I will recognize him.
And I know that face! But not from what they are talking about. He was the man who was dying on the footpath on Shetland; the one they’d sent to look for Dr. 1. If I’d known he was the one who kidnapped me, I wouldn’t have been so nice to him.
Mum shakes her head. “But I still don’t understand why you went to see Alex because of this.”
“The police weren’t that interested. And I thought if I showed the photo to him, if he reacted or anything—”
Mum shakes her head. “I know you never liked Alex, and I understand some of your reasons. But you have to get this out of your head. He didn’t have anything to do with Callie’s disappearance.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I asked him, and I believed him when he said he didn’t. She was his daughter too, you know. He loved her.”
Did my father really love me? Then why can’t I remember him? Kai shakes his head. “She was more like a pet he fed more and more facts and figures, and then when he realized she wasn’t any smarter than me, he dropped her. He dropped you.”
I cross my arms. I’m not clever; I’m a disappointment. That I remember.
Mum’s face is set, her lips in a thin line. “I’ve heard your theory before. That he married me for my high IQ and expected children with high IQ, and was disappointed when Callie was just a little over average. Such an imagination you have, Kai. Anyway, what has this got to do with a necklace?”
Kai relays what Shay told him.
“But if Shay said she was wearing it, then why…?”
“Well, Shay said I should keep an open mind and accept I might be wrong. I just thought I’d look at every possibility. If there was that one necklace, could there be something els
e in her room that could lead to an answer?”
“This young lady sounds very sensible to me.”
“She also said I should ask you about the necklace.”
“Which makes more sense than ransacking Callie’s room.” Kai winces. “I’m sorry, I take that back. It’s fine for you to go in there; I thought you didn’t like to, so I was surprised. That’s all.” Mum shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t remember seeing anything like that. The last time Alex saw Callie was the same day we went to stay by the loch. We went to Edinburgh on the way, as you know. The two of them had lunch while I did some shopping.”
“If he’d given it to her then, you’d have seen it, wouldn’t you?”
She frowns. “I’m sure she’d have shown it to me.”
“So if she was wearing it when Shay saw her, where did she get it?”
“I don’t know. Look, maybe she was wearing it and I didn’t notice, or I forgot. What does it matter?”
“Don’t you see? He slipped up. He said he gave it to her the last time he saw her.”
“That isn’t any kind of proof of anything. There was a lot going on just then; I probably forgot about it. Let it go, Kai! Please.”
Kai breaks his gaze with Mum and sighs in exasperation.
So, there was a necklace: a gold necklace, like a model of an atom. But what does an atom look like? I frown, concentrating—it is almost there, like something I’ve seen, but I don’t remember when or where.
Kai sits down, pushing Martin’s laptop out of the way as he does so. He frowns. “Why can’t he put his stuff away?”
Mum glances at the laptop. “That’s odd. It’s where he left it last night. Usually he’s almost attached to it. Did you see him this morning?”
Kai shrugs. “No, I don’t think so. See if there is any food left; then you’ll know if he’s been here.”
She looks in the fridge and then appears really worried. “He hasn’t eaten. Check his room.”