Читать книгу Little Girl Gone - Stephen Edger - Страница 12

‘I don’t want to go home,’ Alex growled as Owen watched her from the front of the car. ‘Let me help search for her. I’m her mother, and she needs me.’

It wasn’t Owen’s fault, he’d been told to drive her home. As far as DI Trent was concerned, they’d taken and questioned Alex’s statement, and now she was just getting in the way of their investigation.

‘Someone will call as soon as there is any news,’ Owen tried to reason, but calming highly strung women clearly wasn’t one of his strengths.

‘Wherever she is, she’ll be frightened because I’m not there. She’s never spent a night without me nearby. Even when Ray puts her to bed, I still kiss her goodnight. There hasn’t been a single night when I haven’t held her close and kissed her.’ She didn’t like the look of pity shrouding the young detective’s face.

‘What about a public appeal?’ she blurted. ‘You could put her picture on the news and tell everyone in the city to look out for her. Or the radio? Maybe I could speak to the local radio and put her description out there. Maybe someone would come forward and say they’ve seen her.’

She couldn’t keep the desperation from her voice, nor could she sit idly by and wallow anymore. A time for grieving might come eventually, but while she could still feel CarolAnne’s life force, she would keep fighting.

She was fighting a losing battle as far as Owen was concerned, though. His DI had ordered him to drive Alex home and no amount of reasoning or valid arguments would deflect him from that course of action.

‘Can I get you anything?’ Owen asked, as he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

Alex didn’t answer, instead staring out the window at the big brick building that had never looked so alien to her. If it wasn’t for a slight recognition, she would have said he’d brought her to somebody else’s house. With no lights on, and the curtains open, the building looked unloved and abandoned. Hadn’t it been a loving home? Carol-Anne had known she was loved by both her parents, right?

‘I could pick up a takeaway for you,’ Owen continued, watching her from the mirror. ‘Or if you need me to go to the shop, then—’

‘Thanks, I’ll be fine,’ Alex replied, avoiding eye contact. She was determined not to cry in front of him. The rest of the journey home had been filled with awkward silence; awkward because she didn’t feel like engaging, and he clearly hadn’t known what to say to someone experiencing a living grief.

She clamped her eyes shut as her fingers brushed against the door handle, but they refused to coil around it, her body fighting against going in and her worst fears being realized. Even though Ray had already confirmed Carol-Anne wasn’t at home, to see it with her own eyes would be to finally admit that her daughter was gone, maybe never to return, and the weight of that would crush her soul.

‘Is there anybody I can call to be with you?’ Owen asked.

With no brothers or sisters, Alex’s circle of friends had dwindled since she’d given up work to be a full-time mum, and although her social media feeds listed dozens of ‘friends’, there was no one she would want to see now. Sophie was her closest friend these days; even so, she didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of Alex’s current emotional state.

She shook her head, forcing her fingers around the plastic handle.

‘I think DI Trent said she’s assigning a Family Liaison Officer to support you. I can wait until she arrives if you’d like?’

There was desperation in his voice, but it suited her best to decline the offer, much to Owen’s evident relief. Pushing the door open, she stepped out into the cool and damp air. The rain had stopped and the atmosphere made it clear a reprisal could be imminent at any time. Reaching into her handbag she removed her house key, grimacing at the ‘World’s Best Mum’ key ring that dangled between her fingers. It was all she could do to stop herself tearing it off and throwing it to the gutter.

Owen was still in the car, waiting for her to enter, so as she pushed the door open, she waved without looking, then pushed the door closed with her bottom before crumpling to the floor, her head in her hands.

She couldn’t have been there for more than a few minutes when there was a gentle knocking at the door. Had Owen heard her wailing and come to check on her? That was the last thing she needed: the pitying look of her husband’s colleague.

Or maybe Ray had finally come to his senses and had come home to offer the support she needed. Wiping her face with the backs of her hands, she forced herself up and took several deep breaths to compose herself, before pulling the door open.

‘Oh you are home,’ the woman on the doorstep said cheerily, clutching a bottle of white wine. ‘I wasn’t sure as your car isn’t in the drive and all the lights are off. Have you just got home?’

Alex frowned at her friend. ‘Sophie? What are you …?’

Sophie’s puzzled expression mirrored Alex’s. ‘It’s Tuesday night? You said Ray was going out to play squash and I should come over for a girly catch-up. Sorry, am I too early? You did say come after seven.’

The memory fired to the front of Alex’s mind. ‘It’s Wednesday.’

Alex studied Sophie’s face. Her elfin-like bob curled at the fringe, and despite the bright choice of eye shadow, she wore little other make-up to accentuate her high cheekbones and silky-smooth skin.

‘Yes, it’s Wednesday, silly! Oh, and before you ask I had a text from Noemi, and – surprise, surprise – she can’t make it. That woman is such a flake. For someone who works in IT, she is so disorganized.’ Sophie continued into the house, oblivious to the pained expression on Alex’s face. ‘I would understand if she had children or a man in her life, but once again she’s bailed at the last minute.’ Sophie paused when she saw Alex was still by the door. ‘Don’t tell me you forgot! Have you made other plans?’

‘No, not exactly, it’s just …’

Sophie was already through to the living room, turning on the main light and looking around, pausing when her eyes fell on Alex’s swollen face still sheltered by the front door. ‘Oh gosh, what’s happened? Are you all right?’

How could Alex begin to explain the magnitude of what had happened that afternoon? They’d been friends for two years, since Alex and Ray had moved in next door to her. As a single woman with little responsibility other than her lease, how would Sophie understand the torment?

‘Is it Ray?’ she pressed. ‘Has something happened? You can tell me, sweetie. You know I’m discreet.’

Alex allowed Sophie to lead her through to the living room; it didn’t feel like home as she sank into the armchair. Carol-Anne’s scent still filled the room, and for a moment Alex allowed herself to pretend none of the last few hours had occurred.

Sophie reappeared a moment later with two large glasses and the bottle of wine she’d brought over. Pouring a generous measure into each, she handed one of the glasses to Alex. ‘Take your time, sweetie, I’m not going anywhere.’

Alex took a sip from her glass, before taking a much larger gulp, almost draining the contents. It tasted crisp and dry, and for the first time that evening, the weight of events lifted a fraction as the alcohol numbed the pain.

‘Someone’s taken Carol-Anne,’ she said, in one quick breath, hoping that admitting the truth would be less painful if spoken quickly, like removing a plaster.

Sophie’s mouth dropped, as deep crevices sank in her forehead. ‘I … what do you mean? Ray’s taken Carol-Anne?’

Alex took a deep breath. ‘I was parked in town; one minute she was strapped into my car, and the next …’

Sophie gasped, her eyes widening, the shock of the words hitting home. ‘Oh, sweetie, I don’t know what to say.’

Alex lowered her near empty glass to the table. Alcohol wasn’t the answer. She needed to keep her wits about her, and if the police needed to speak to her urgently, she didn’t want her breath smelling of wine.

Sophie took a nervous sip of her own drink. ‘I’m so sorry, Alex. What have the police said? I’m sure they’ll find her. Whatever you need in the meantime just say.’

This was precisely why Alex hadn’t wanted to inform her. Sophie was a sweet girl, and not the sort of person you’d rely on in a crisis. She was younger, and a free spirit, not someone who worried about a career, a family, the trappings of a regular life. They were polar opposites in terms of aspirations, and that was probably why they got on so well. That, and the fact that Alex had supported Sophie when a previous relationship had turned sour.

Sophie was perching awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, not knowing where to look or what to say. It would have been kinder to allow her to slip away, and although originally Alex had wanted to be left alone, the presence of someone – anyone – in her home would distract her from the silent reminder that Carol-Anne wasn’t home.

She didn’t expect to see Ray anytime soon. He would stay at the crime scene until he was forced to leave. Either that or he would be seeking solace in someone else’s company. Although she had no proof that he had been seeing someone behind her back, the distance between them was too vast to ignore.

‘What’s with the suit?’ Sophie suddenly asked, her attempt at small talk showing again how ill-equipped she was to deal with such an awful situation.

Alex stared down at the damp clothing, which she’d picked out especially for today’s interview. She’d woken with such high hopes this morning; it now felt like a lifetime away.

‘I should probably get changed,’ she admitted.

And that was Sophie’s trigger to spring into action. ‘You sit still, and I’ll grab your pyjamas and dressing gown.’

Alex didn’t argue, knowing Sophie would have done anything to escape the tension in the room. And as silence once again returned to the house, Alex found herself staring at the large print of Carol-Anne on the wall above the television. The photo shoot had been a present from Ray’s sister and husband. The photographer had done such a good job of capturing CarolAnne’s sweet, glowing innocence. And as Alex studied each line of her daughter’s face, she made a silent vow that she would get her back, whatever it took.