Eating alone was getting easier. This time, as she dined on a huge stack of pancakes while researching the location of the Tucson police department. There was more than one, as well as a sheriff’s department, but she figured the main department on South Stone Avenue would be her best bet. She didn’t have a crime to report, and Mary wasn’t technically missing, she didn’t think, but at the same time she knew that what was happening was bigger than her walking around Tucson neighbourhoods knocking on doors and asking questions. She needed to sit down with an officer and explain her concerns. She just hoped that whoever saw her would listen.
After she finished her food, another new person on the front desk called her a taxi and Fran went out in the Arizona heat for a second day. Her skin was slathered in sunscreen. She felt greasy. Pores clogged with it. Her sunglasses slipped down her nose as she walked.
Inside, the car was heavenly with aircon as it hummed along the wide Tucson streets. Everything in America seemed to be stretched out. There wasn’t much of a discernible city centre, like the pedestrianised areas back in the UK, instead flat terracotta-coloured buildings were scattered between carparks. When the car pulled up outside the police department, she let the driver go this time, knowing she could call another cab or take the bus back to the hotel. It was too hot to walk, despite it being a short distance.
Fran wafted air at the back of her neck as she stood outside the building. A flag lay flat against its pole, limp in the breezeless air. It was probably the largest building she’d seen outside the hotel, with a sprawling backend and a three-storey curved front. The sandstone exterior melded with the umber landscape. But here, at least, there were people and life happening around her. In the valley she’d felt as though she’d walked into someone else’s state of limbo.
Once inside, a po-faced brunette woman in uniform told Fran to take a seat. She waited, legs sweating against the plastic, until a short, bulky detective with closely cropped black hair led her through to an interview room.
His uniform bunched up as he sat down opposite Fran. He smiled and placed his hands together on the table. There was a thin, pencil moustache along the length of this full upper lip. “Hot today.” He raised his eyebrows and let out a short breath. “Too hot to be in a police department with crappy air conditioning, that’s for sure. So, my name is Detective Woodson. How can I help you?”
The butterflies in her stomach settled slightly as she warmed to his approachable humour. She smiled thinly and searched for a way to tell him her story. “I’m concerned about a woman local to Tucson,” she began. “I met her back in the UK, and then she left, suddenly, with her family. I think she must have come back here but I can’t find her, and she isn’t returning my calls.”
He frowned. “Okay, can I take a name?”
Fran reeled off the details for Mary and Elijah. She showed him the picture of Mary and Esther from her phone, and the final message Mary sent. She explained about Esther running away, and Elijah’s strange presence.
“I know I’m not family and it perhaps isn’t my place to report Mary or Esther missing,” she said, aware of how odd her story was beginning to sound, “but I had to do something.”
“You came all the way to Arizona for this?” He leaned back in his chair. “You didn’t pick up the phone and maybe call us from the UK?”
A creeping sense of dread filled the space between her and the officer. It hit her how obsessed she must seem. Her face bloomed with embarrassment. “I… I needed to come and make sure she’s all right. If she needs to get away from Elijah, she’ll need a friend to help her do that. I don’t know if she has friends here so… Look, I know it seems crazy, but I… without sounding like a… I have the means to travel and I want to make sure she’s okay. That’s all I want.”
“It’s all right, Mrs. Cole. I wasn’t accusing you of anything, it’s just an unusual situation.” He tapped his pen on the tabletop as he spoke. His warm demeanour remained but she got the distinct impression from his unblinking eyes that he was trying to figure her out. “I’m not going to lie to you, we’re stretched, what with budget cuts and so on, but I am going to check this out for you.” He offered her a reassuring smile that failed to reassure.
Fran thanked him and left. He’d done nothing bad and said nothing unpleasant, and yet she’d never felt so small.
Chapter Fifty-One
That feeling of being small, insignificant did not leave her as she walked away. Was that it? What more could she do? She’d visited Mary’s old house. She’d gone to the police. She’d given out her contact details to their neighbours and now she had to wait.
Fran’s legs felt like jelly as she wandered the wide sidewalks running parallel to the main street. It was mid-morning and she already felt dehydrated. People in baseball caps and shorts passed her, not even giving her a second glance. Yet she still felt like an alien with her pink-tinged, slightly burnt English skin and clipped accent.
She wandered past an art museum and kept going. A tiny space of green lawns passed for a park in the middle of two busy roads. A sad white bench sat in the middle. She carried on until she noticed a concrete concourse surrounded by restaurants and decided to stop for something with ice in it, whether it was coffee, tea or lemonade, she didn’t care. Jogging across the plaza, she noticed a sun-bleached flyer taped to a lamppost and peered closer. Missing, it said, Jayden Ellis, six years old. The little boy smiled brightly in the photocopied picture. Lovely straight teeth, tightly curled hair. Baby fat around his cheekbones. Fran wrapped her arms around her body, suddenly needing comfort. All around the world children were lost.
She ducked into a Mexican restaurant and ordered an iced tea from an elfin featured young woman in a red apron. Then she settled down on a table away from the window and that glaring sun.
“Can I ask where you’re from?” the girl said, setting the tea down on a paper coaster. “I love your accent.”
“England.” Fran smiled. “Derbyshire.”
“Is that near London?”
“Sort of.”
“Cool.”
Fran watched her walk away and mused about the size of the UK compared to America and how London actually isn’t that far away when you think about it. But then her eyes were pulled back to the window and that faded poster. Could she do something like that for Mary? Walk around Tucson with flyers of Mary or Esther’s face? Would it work? She tapped her fingernail on the Formica. Maybe.
She gulped down half the tea and then took out her notebook to start drawing something up. She’d need to get a photograph printed out first before finding somewhere that could photocopy it for her. She’d have to leave her number and hope someone would call. It’d mean staying in Arizona for a little while longer, but she’d bought a one-way ticket for now, planning to stay as long as she needed to.
Adrian wouldn’t like it. He wanted her home, she knew that. She was testing his patience, of course she was. But her mind was made up. She paid her bill and left, deciding to have a walk around to see if she could find a Walmart or something similar that might have a photo printing machine. She wasn’t paying attention as she left the restaurant, with her head bent low as she fiddled with her bag. She didn’t see that she wasn’t alone.
“Are you looking for salvation?”
Fran stopped dead and turned around. There she found a blond-haired, blue-eyed man about twenty years old. He was standing very still on the edge of the concourse, next to a set of stone steps. Dressed smartly in a suit, Fran imagined he must be sweltering.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Are you looking for salvation?”
She noticed, then, the stack of pamphlets in his hands. She took in the brown suit-jacket, the smattering of a beard on his chin, the whimsical earnestness in his eyes. “Oh. No thanks. I’m fully salved already.” It was supposed to be a joke, but he didn’t laugh.
“Are you sure about that?” He took a step closer. “You look lost.”
“Well, that’s becaus
e I’m not from here. I’m on holiday,” she said, hoping it would get rid of him.
“In Tucson?” The corner of his lips lifted. “Strange place to go on holiday.” He raised his arm and reached out with the reading material. “Can I give you this? There aren’t any strings attached. All I suggest is that you read it. We’re a company designed to help people who are searching for more in life. You can contact us if you’d like to know more. We have an interview process that helps to determine your life goals. It’s a free consultation and there’s no pressure to join anything.”
Fran didn’t want to, but felt the social pressure to take the leaflet. “Thanks. I didn’t know setting life goals led to salvation.” She laughed slightly, hating herself for not just walking away and throwing the damn thing in the bin.
“Wouldn’t you call salvation a goal?” he asked.
“I guess.”
He opened his arms as though that answered the question.
“Well, I’d best be on my way.”
The young man dipped his pale head. “It’d be great to meet you again. I hope you come for an interview. I think you’d find what you’re looking for.”
“I doubt it, but thanks,” Fran said, beginning to get irritated. She stormed off in the opposite direction, more annoyed at herself for engaging in conversation with the guy. When back on the pavement, her eyes roamed the street, searching for a bin, eager to get rid of the offending article.
And then she stopped.
She stood stock still. A woman pushing a pram in the opposite direction let her handbag hit her in the ribs, but she barely felt it, or heard the disgruntled tut as the pram steered away. None of it mattered, because she knew.
She knew where Mary and Esther were.
Chapter Fifty-Two
THEN
It was before sunrise and Esther was standing in her bedroom fully dressed. Her heart was beating rapidly against her ribs, and, despite the chill, she felt a little sweat beginning to form in the small of her back. She held herself still. Had she heard something?
After waiting another beat, Esther decided that no one would notice if she tip-toed out of her bedroom. She carried her patent leather Mary-Jane shoes as she made her way down the stairs, feet up on their toes, fingers lightly tracing the bannister. The scent of fresh spring air drifted in from the hallway. Esther froze at the bottom of the stairs. Why was the front door open?
Esther held her breath and didn’t move. She waited until she heard the sound of the plastic against plastic. It was the outdoor bin lid being opened and closed. Mary was taking out the trash, probably because she forgot to do it last night. She let out a slow breath and her muscles began to relax. All she needed to do was be quick and quiet.
She pulled on her shoes at the door, not bothering to latch them, and ran out of the house. She ran straight, not knowing where she was going, but knowing that she didn’t want to be in that house anymore. She hated it there. She hated Elijah and the way he bossed them both around. She hated Mary and the stupid book she made her read, the one with the pictures about Jesus and Moses. She hated the words because they were all wrong. They weren’t Father’s words.
She was going to find Father now. He told her that he would always find her, no matter what. All she needed to do was look at the night sky. There he was, twinkling down at her, his spirit a bright star. He knew what was right and what was good in this world. He would make all the funny feelings in her tummy go away. All those niggles telling her Mary and Elijah were going about everything wrong.
But Esther also didn’t know where she was going, and she was a little afraid. When she reached the village green she stopped by the swings and latched her shoes. Everywhere was dark, but not as dark as Arizona. Not as open and empty as her home. This place smelled like daffodils and dewdrops hanging from the blades of green grass. It was different here. She hated it.
When she heard thudding footsteps and a rhythmical panting breath, Esther clenched her fists tightly. She thought about hiding somewhere but she couldn’t seem to make her legs move. A woman came into view. She was dressed in tight clothing and her hair was scraped back by a headband. When the woman saw her, she let out a gasp and clutched her throat, stopping dead in her tracks. Esther felt like a ghost. The woman was scared of her.
“Hello,” said the woman, inching closer. “What are you doing out here all alone?”
Esther did not speak. She tightened her small fists.
“Where’s your mummy? Why aren’t you at home?”
She said nothing. Father always told her not to trust anyone outside the family. This woman was not part of her family and she couldn’t trust her.
“Take my hand, little one,” the woman cooed. “You’re safe now.”
But she would not. She stood and scowled. What if she was a demon? The ones that Father said wear human skin like clothes. No, Esther could not trust this woman, not even if she spoke with a soft voice and gently held out her hand.
They were at an impasse. Esther would not speak, and the woman could not leave her alone. Eventually, when the woman asked Esther her name, she spoke.
“Father is coming. He’ll find me here.”
“We can find your daddy together if you like.”
Esther regarded this person, who had crouched down to her height, with contempt. This person did not understand who Father was and how much better he was than everyone else. They didn’t need to search for him, because he was watching them right now. He was there, twinkling in the sky, leading her every day. She missed him more than anything.
“What’s your name?”
“Esther.”
“Where does your daddy live? We can look for him now.”
“Arizona.”
And the stars, Esther thought.
The woman frowned and took her mobile phone out of her pocket. This was why Father said not to trust anyone, because they will always call someone else. And then who shows up? The police. Father said they were the worst. He always said never to go with an officer but to run away as fast as she could instead.
But before the woman could use her phone, Esther saw Mary running towards them, sliding on wet grass. Esther cringed as Mary slipped, dropped to her knees, and pulled her into a hug. Now she had to go back to that house. She hated it there. All she wanted was to go back to her real home. She craned her neck and stared at the stars while the grown-ups talked. She barely heard their voices, except for the woman’s name: Fran.
Chapter Fifty-Three
THEN
Their noise floated up through the floorboards to where Esther was lying on her bed. She’d been making notes in her picture bible about all the things that were wrong according to Father. But she couldn’t concentrate because Elijah and Mary were fighting downstairs. Again. They hadn’t stopped fighting since they moved to Leacroft. Esther put down her pen and decided to sneak onto the landing to listen to them for a while. She wanted to know what they were saying, and she especially wanted to know if they were saying anything about her.
She crept out barefoot. It was after 10:00 p.m. and she was in her nightie. Mary had braided her hair so that it fell over one shoulder. She knelt down next to the bannisters and listened.
“You’re blind, Mary,” Elijah said. “People like us can’t be friends with people like them. If you were older, you’d understand.” Esther could picture him shaking his head as he spoke. He did that a lot when he was lecturing.
“Understand what?” Mary replied.
“That she’s not a friend you want to have.”
“Why?”
“It’s not appropriate Mary. Come on, use your head. You know it. You went to her ridiculous choir practice and you saw what people around here think of us.”
“But you agreed to the dinner party…”
“I thought you’d see,” he replied. “I thought you’d wake up.”
“You liked them,” Mary said.
“So what? You can enjoy someone’s company for an hour but th
en understand when something has to end. This is all nothing but foolishness, you’re just too young to understand, that’s all.”
Esther heard Elijah’s footsteps as he moved around the room. And with his movements, his voice drifted away. She couldn’t make out his words after that, but she heard a bump and a grunt. Then everything went quiet.
Over the last few weeks, Mary had befriended Fran and they’d met up in the café and at the big estate house that Esther hated. She didn’t like Fran. Fran was an outsider and Esther knew that Father wouldn’t approve. Part of her hated Mary for making her spend time with this English woman. But Esther wasn’t given a say because she was a child. She hated being a child. She wanted to be grown.
She got to her feet and walked back to her bedroom. There she opened the curtains and stared out at the darkness. Leacroft was quiet, but never as silent as her home in Arizona. There was always someone walking a dog or going jogging. There were always streetlights dotted around the narrow streets and parked cars. And tonight, there were too many clouds in the sky to see the stars and she hated that. She hated it.
Perhaps she could run away. Properly this time. She sat down on her bed and thought about it for a moment. Little girls like her didn’t travel on their own and Esther knew she couldn’t walk to Arizona from England. But maybe she could run away and grow up somewhere hidden and then find her way back. She stood up. That was it, she could disappear and live on her own away from Elijah’s lectures and Mary’s tears. She could live in the woods until she was old enough to get on a plane without people calling the police. Father always said that children were closest to God when they were out in the wild. He said everyone should learn to survive the wilderness or they weren’t worth a cent.
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