Finding Grace

by K. L. Slater

  ‘New life, here I come,’ she murmured softly.

  Twenty-One

  Lucie

  Sunday evening

  When Blake finally gets back from the police station, he looks tired. Haggard.

  ‘What happened?’ I rush into the hallway, still clutching a sleepy Oscar in my arms as the shouting from the media shuts off abruptly when the front door closes. ‘What did they say?’

  ‘They just asked me a load of questions.’ He shrugs. ‘I answered them the best I could.’

  ‘Come in here.’ I lead him into the living room and notice with a flash of irritation that Fiona is drifting across the hallway too. Before Blake walked in, she was talking to Dad in the kitchen but now decides to loiter near the lounge doorway. I lower my voice. ‘What exactly did they ask you?’

  ‘What time did your wife go to sleep, what time did you leave the house, where exactly did you go, who did you see. Blah, blah, blah.’ He clenches his jaw. ‘Like I told them, while they’re spending their time interrogating me about things that aren’t relevant, they’re not out there looking for Grace.’

  ‘Blake, you…’ I falter. ‘You haven’t got anything to tell me, have you? I mean, I’d rather know… if there’s something.’

  ‘Something like what?’ He stares at me.

  ‘Like if you were… I don’t know, hiding something from me.’ The wads of cash in his desk drawer fill my mind’s eye.

  ‘Christ!’ He claps a hand to his forehead. ‘Is that what you really think of me, Luce?’

  Oscar grumbles and I jiggle him in my arms.

  ‘No! I… It’s just with you changing your mind, offering to go to the station with them, I just—’

  ‘I wanted to take the pressure off you a bit, that’s all. You look exhausted. I know you’re fragile, Lucie, and if truth be known, I’m scared you’ll go under again.’

  ‘I’m already under!’ I snap. ‘Finding out you’ve been lying to me is only going to make things a hundred times worse, if that’s even possible.’

  I feel like screaming at him, like I’m about to lose it. I clamp my back teeth together and look away.

  ‘Lucie, I don’t know why you’re going on about this, but it’s not helping. I’m not hiding anything.’

  His outright lie fills me with fury, but I’m mindful that Fiona is lurking. Blowing his secret wide open could damage us irreparably and take focus from the investigation into what has happened to Grace.

  With great effort, I try and reason with him.

  ‘Nobody changes their mind in the space of a few minutes like you did. One minute you’re refusing to go to the station, the next, you’re volunteering. I’m not an idiot, Blake. I’m asking you, giving you a chance to explain why—’

  ‘I’ve told you. I just wanted to protect you from their probing questions, that’s all.’ He sighs and looks at his hands.

  Out in the hall, Fiona’s phone rings. She’s definitely still out there, hanging on our conversation. A bolt of fury zips through me.

  ‘It’s driving me crazy, her hanging around all the time. I think she’s here to spy on us. She’s not actually adding anything to finding out where Grace is.’

  ‘Fiona’s a valuable link to what’s happening out there, Luce. If they find Grace, then we’ll know immediately rather than having to wait for—’

  He takes sleeping Oscar gently from my arms and holds him. My arm aches from holding him so close but I immediately miss his soothing warmth and presence.

  ‘She could be out there searching with the other coppers, instead of just sitting in here making fucking tea.’

  ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Fiona says from the doorway.

  Our heads both jerk up, sudden hope bright in our eyes. ‘Your GP is on his way; he’ll be here in five minutes.’ She presses her lips together and, finally, heads to the kitchen.

  I slump down into a chair. I realise Fiona probably heard what I said, but who cares? It doesn’t matter.

  Nothing in this world matters except finding Grace.

  I stare out of the window, wondering how the light had faded so fast.

  ‘Grace doesn’t like the dark,’ I say faintly.

  Even though, on the one hand, she tells us how grown-up she is now she is nine, our daughter still insists on having the night light on, bathing her bedroom in a dim starlit glow.

  ‘Don’t think about it, Luce.’ Blake supports Oscar in one arm and reaches for my hand, and I see that regardless of the fact that it’s futile, he too has closed his eyes against any thoughts of Grace being in a place where she is suffering and afraid.

  Somehow, we both understand that we can’t voice these things.

  Just in case it makes it so.

  I try to pull my hand away but he holds it tight. Despite my suspicions and my discovery of the money upstairs, I let him.

  Tensions are high. We’re both dying inside; we’re right on the edge. We just need our baby back.

  There’s no sense in us tearing each other apart.

  Twenty-Two

  Fiona shows Dr Mahmoud into the living room. Dad takes Oscar into the other room and nods his own greeting as he passes.

  The doctor is a small, squat man with a perennial smile. He’s been my children’s GP for the whole of their lives and he knows Grace particularly well, as she’s a regular visitor to the health centre due to her diabetes.

  ‘I am very sorry to meet here with you both under such terrible circumstances,’ he says gravely before sitting down in Blake’s proffered chair. ‘Myself and my wife, we are both praying for the safe return of Grace.’ His toothy smile is tinged with sadness and compassion.

  ‘Thank you, Doctor,’ I say gratefully. ‘It’s a terrible situation only made worse by Grace’s condition.’

  ‘Of course, this is certainly a worry. I have spoken to the detective leading the investigation and explained my concerns regarding Grace’s diabetes. I understand she has her blood sugar monitor and insulin on her person?’

  Blake nods. ‘She was at her friend’s house and they made sure she had her medication with her when she left there.’

  ‘But what if she can’t use it? What if someone’s taken it or…’ The words choke in my throat, and in the end, I find I can’t voice the dreadful possibility. I bite the inside of my lip viciously in an effort to keep the tears at bay.

  ‘Please be honest with us,’ Blake says, so pleadingly I want to hug him despite his deceit. ‘What are the real risks if Grace can’t access her medication?’

  Dr Mahmoud glances at me warily.

  ‘We want to know all possible eventualities,’ I confirm. ‘We need to know.’

  He nods. Clears his throat.

  ‘Very well. Truthfully, if Grace is found soon, there should not be a problem. As you know, her body cannot regulate blood sugar itself, so the injected insulin does this job. If she does eat but does not inject, it’s possible her blood sugar levels could increase, but in the short term, this would not be dangerous.’

  Dr Mahmoud must know that we know all this. I think he’s skirting around the issue.

  ‘Obviously, we don’t know where Grace is yet,’ I say, striving to speak calmly. ‘We don’t know when she’ll be found. I suppose what we’re asking is what happens if… if the situation continues for some time? What happens if the police can’t find Grace and, for whatever reason, she can’t access her medication for a length of time?’

  Dr Mahmoud’s brow furrows.

  ‘Well, as a worst-case scenario, untreated diabetes can commonly lead to diabetic ketoacidosis. The common name for this is diabetic coma.’

  ‘That sound pretty serious,’ Blake says grimly.

  ‘Indeed. But if Grace is found within the next forty-eight hours, then it will not be a worry.’

  That blasted statistic again: forty-eight hours.

  Not so long ago, forty-eight hours sounded like a good chunk of time; now it seems like the blink of an eye.

  ‘Is a diabetic coma the wor
st that can happen?’ Blake presses him.

  ‘It can lead to cerebral oedema, an accumulation of liquid in the brain.’ Dr Mahmoud hesitates before continuing. ‘It’s very serious, and sadly, children are at higher risk of this condition.’

  A cloak of silence descends on us as we all consider this. I feel like I’m watching from a distance, like I’m standing outside of myself.

  ‘Luce?’ Blake’s voice cuts through the strange disassociation. ‘Dr Mahmoud is talking to you.’

  ‘Sorry?’ I say vaguely.

  ‘I have prepared a prescription for you, Mrs Sullivan.’ The doctor holds out the white printed slip.

  ‘No thanks.’ I feel my expression harden. ‘I need to be aware of everything that’s happening. I need to get out there and help to search for Grace, and I can’t do that if I’m in a self-medicated bubble.’

  ‘Ah, you misunderstand.’ He smiles. ‘This prescription is not for sedation purposes; it is simply some mild medication to calm the nerves.’ He looks meaningfully at me. Nods encouragingly.

  He’s been my GP for the last ten years. He’s aware of my medical history, of the anxiety-related conditions that have blighted half my life.

  I look at the small white note in his outstretched fingers.

  ‘Lucie,’ Blake says gently. ‘Please. Take the prescription.’

  And so I do.

  Twenty-Three

  Sunday evening

  It’s officially dark when DI Pearlman and DS Paige return to the house. They speak in low, indecipherable tones to Fiona in the hallway.

  Dad has taken Oscar upstairs and is having a lie down himself, so that leaves Blake and I staring wordlessly at each other with wide eyes. But it’s soon clear that there’s no positive news.

  I feel the light that I’m trying so hard to keep burning brightly inside myself dim a little more.

  The detectives appear in the doorway.

  ‘We’ve come to give you an update on what’s happening out there,’ DI Pearlman says, stepping into the room. ‘But before we do, we’ve got the leader of the community search here. He wonders if he could have a quick word… Is that OK?’

  He addresses Blake but glances nervously in my direction. They’re treading on eggshells around me. I’m falling apart inside, but I thought I was giving the impression I’m just about holding it together. Judging by their reaction now, though, I’m not so sure.

  ‘I have to say he’s doing a great job,’ DS Paige adds. ‘The community search is really adding value to our operation, releasing officers for other important duties in the investigation.’

  ‘Of course, we’d love to meet him,’ Blake says. ‘Please, bring him in.’

  DS Paige disappears into the hallway. I hear the front door open and close and lowered voices conversing.

  ‘Incredible that someone would take it upon themselves to get involved and organise a search like that,’ Blake remarks, and I nod in agreement.

  A few seconds later, the detective comes back into the room, followed by… our neighbour, Jeffery Bonser.

  ‘Jeffery is leading the community search,’ DS Paige says, ‘and he’s only just told me you already know each other.’

  I stare at Jeffery, who, under my enquiring gaze, shuffles his weight awkwardly, one foot to the other.

  ‘I’ll leave you all to have a quick chat.’ Paige walks out of the room, already looking at his phone.

  ‘Jeff! You absolute hero.’ Blake jumps up and embraces our neighbour. ‘We can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing. Right, Luce?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you,’ I say, my arms and legs suddenly feeling cold.

  Blake is saying something about community spirit and support and putting his arm around Jeffery’s shoulders in a brotherly manner.

  I stare blankly at the two of them, trying to reconcile the usually insular and socially awkward man with this new self-appointed organiser of the community search.

  Jeffery soaks up Blake’s thanks and compliments and accepts them easily. He seems to hold himself taller and with a new dignity. It’s quite a transformation.

  Unexpectedly, he steps away from Blake and advances towards me. I shrink back into my seat.

  ‘Lucie, I wanted to express to you my sadness that Grace has gone. I’m so, so sorry.’ He crouches down by the side of my seat, close enough that I can see a slick of grease on the skin either side of his nose.

  ‘Grace is missing,’ I say, a little curtly. ‘She isn’t gone. Gone is forever. Gone is for good.’

  ‘Lucie!’ Blake frowns at me.

  ‘What?’ I snap. ‘People need to think about what they’re saying before they blurt out thoughtless stuff.’

  Jeffery stands up, clearly mortified.

  ‘Of… of course, you’re right,’ he stammers. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…’

  ‘We have to keep hold of hope any way we can,’ I say, ignoring Blake’s efforts to catch my eye. ‘We have to believe with all our hearts that Grace will be back home soon. It’s only been a few hours.’

  ‘I understand.’ Jeffery knots his fingers together. ‘She’s such a lovely little girl. I’ll miss seeing her leave for school each morning, and playing in the garden on her trampoline. I like to see her jumping and twirling out there.’

  I shiver and pull my cardigan closer to me. The thought of him peering out of his windows watching Grace like that gives me the heebie-jeebies.

  Blake steps forwards, lays his hand on Jeffery’s upper arm.

  ‘We really appreciate everything you’re doing, mate,’ he reiterates. ‘It takes a lot to get involved in something like this when it’s not your problem.’

  ‘You’re my friends.’ Jeffery shrugs. ‘And friends do stuff for each other, right?’

  ‘Right.’ Blake nods, tears of gratitude shining in his eyes.

  Jeffery looks at his shuffling feet. ‘I couldn’t just sit by when Grace is… missing.’

  I don’t see why not. He has nothing whatsoever to do with Grace; doesn’t say two words to her from one week to the next.

  I’m being unnecessarily mean, I know. I should be feeling enormously grateful, like Blake is. But something about him doing this just doesn’t sit right with me.

  ‘Thank you, Jeffery,’ I manage, before addressing my husband. ‘DI Pearlman’s waiting to speak to us,’ I remind him.

  More hugs and effusive thanks from Blake, and finally Jeffery leaves the house.

  ‘I can’t believe you were like that with him,’ Blake remarks as the detectives come back into the room. ‘You heard what DS Paige said. Jeff’s help has been invaluable.’

  I don’t respond. I refuse to waste any more energy arguing about our bloody neighbour.

  ‘Have you checked him out?’ I say pointedly to DI Pearlman. ‘Jeffery Bonser, I mean.’

  The detective looks confused.

  ‘Lucie. You’re not thinking straight,’ Blake says in what I recognise as his warning tone.

  ‘He watches Grace when she’s playing in the garden,’ I snap at him. ‘He just admitted it… you heard him!’

  ‘He didn’t mean it like that,’ Blake says to the detective, ignoring me. ‘Lucie’s never liked him.’

  ‘He’s a weirdo. Lived with his mother for years, and now he’s a loner. I’ve heard about cases before where the abductor gets a kick out of helping in a search or investigation.’

  DS Paige gets out his notebook.

  ‘What exactly did he say?’

  Blake answers before I can respond.

  ‘He said he felt very sad about what had happened. That he’ll miss seeing Grace leave for school in the morning…’

  ‘… and miss watching her twirling on her trampoline in the garden.’ I shudder. ‘It’s like he knows she won’t be coming home.’ My voice breaks and tears tip down my cheeks. I wipe them angrily away and glare at DI Pearlman.

  ‘Rest assured, Lucie, we’ll be looking at everyone who knows Grace,’ he says calmly as DI Paige scribbles something down. �
�In the first few hours, we’re concentrating all efforts on the immediacy of a search operation.’

  ‘And what have you found so far? Because now it’s dark and Grace is out there somewhere, terrified.’

  I’m so sick and tired of not knowing anything because I’m cooped up in here.

  ‘You should’ve searched all the houses on the street.’ My voice rises an octave and Blake looks across at me, concerned.

  ‘They can’t just barge in and ransack people’s houses without good reason, Luce. You know that!’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind if someone else’s child was missing. The police could come in here and—’

  DI Pearlman raises his hand to quieten me. ‘All in good time, Lucie. It’s essential we get things in the right order. We want Grace safely home as soon as humanly possible, but there’s a process to follow and…’

  His voice fades out as I stop listening.

  I just want my little girl home. I want her back in my arms, safe and sound. Is that too much for any mother to ask?

  Twenty-Four

  Four hours. That’s how long Grace has been missing. Four hours ago, our friend Mike saw her off on her five-minute journey home.

  The detectives have left the house again, Dad must’ve fallen asleep upstairs with Oscar and Blake is talking to Fiona in the kitchen.

  I stare out of the window, but I’m not really watching anything. The group of press are still at the gate, and various people come and go, chatting to each other and looking at the house. There’s a uniformed officer down there making sure nobody ventures up the path.

  Blake wanted me to take one of Dr Mahmoud’s tablets right away when he brought my prescription back from the chemist.

  ‘It’ll help, Luce. Take the edge off your nerves.’