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Authors: Sophie McKenzie

Girl, Missing (16 page)

BOOK: Girl, Missing
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Annie served out something she called Osso Bucco. We ate in silence. I could feel everyone watching me. I kept my eyes glued to my plate.

‘Fork, Madison,' Annie said gently.

I glanced sideways. Madison put down her knife and transferred her fork to the other hand.

I had no idea what was going on, but I felt way too awkward to ask any questions. A few minutes later it happened again.

‘Come on, Madison,' Annie said. ‘We're eating cuisine.'

Madison blushed and snatched a quick look at me.

Shelby sniggered. ‘Just because Mar— er, Lauren, does it, doesn't mean you can.'

I stared at her. Just because I did what?

Annie started flapping. ‘It's a small thing, Lauren. We only eat with the fork. I mean, we use the knife and fork together to cut food but then we transfer the fork to the other hand to eat.'

I think my mouth must have dropped open.

Who were these people?

Shelby sniggered again. ‘It's because we think it's bad manners to shovel food into our mouths,' she said pointedly, staring at my own fork which was pressed against my knife, gathering a last mouthful of chopped string beans.

‘Oh, but we don't expect
you
to do it,' Annie twittered
at me. ‘It's just an American thing and everyone knows you've had different . . . I mean you're European. I mean. . .' She shot up from the table and started gathering plates. Still talking her head off, she raced into the kitchen and re-emerged in seconds with a large cake. Holding it high in the air, she advanced to the table.

‘I made this while you were out earlier. I wasn't sure but I felt you would understand. This is such a momentous day . . .' Her voice tailed off as she placed the cake in front of me. It was high and covered with white icing. Across the top, in curly yellow letters were the words:
welcome home Lauren
.

‘Neat frosting, Mom,' Madison said.

I stared at the cake.

Annie kept on wittering away behind me. She edged a long knife – handle first – towards me across the table. I could feel everyone else's gaze: Sam all concerned, Shelby looking smug, and Madison with those big velvety eyes round like saucers.

I didn't pick up the knife, so Annie reached across and snatched it up herself. Her hand was shaking as she hacked unevenly at the cake.

‘Well, I guess you'll want to look round upstairs, Lauren.' She slid a slab of cake onto a small plate and placed it in front of me. ‘And we ought to discuss which room you're going to sleep in too.'

I pushed the plate away from me.

No way was I going to eat her stupid cake.

A look of humiliation flickered across Annie's eyes. Her face flushed a deep red. ‘What we thought was you could choose. If you'd like you could sleep in with Shelby. We thought that might be fun, so you girls could get to know each other.'

I glanced at Shelby. She glowered at me.

I'd rather get to know a poisonous snake
.

‘Or you could choose one of the guest rooms and we'll make it over for you while you get used to being here.'

I'll never get used to being here
.‘

‘Or . . .' Annie hesitated. ‘Or there's your old room.'

I looked up at her. It hadn't occurred to me that I would already have a room in the house. In spite of the homesick ache inside me, I was instantly curious.

‘Would you like to see it?' Annie asked.

I nodded.

‘OK.' Annie jumped up eagerly, knocking over her glass. Water flooded onto the floor. ‘Oh darn, what a mess.'

Sam followed her into the kitchen to get a cloth.

‘Why doesn't Shelby show Lauren
her
room first, while we clear up?' he said. ‘You can join them in a minute.'

‘Sure, Dad.' Shelby turned to me. ‘I'd love to,' she whispered sarcastically.

I followed Shelby up the stairs. From behind I could see that although she was the same height as me, her legs were really much shorter. They stuck out from her mini-skirt like tough little tree trunks. I could also see dark-brown roots spreading through the blonde highlights down the back of her head. This made me feel slightly better. A horrible sister was bad enough. But a glamorous, horrible sister with perfect hair and legs up to her eyebrows would have been unbearable.

Shelby stomped across the long corridor. She pointed to an open door on the left. ‘That's mine,' she said.

Through the doorway I could see a huge dressing table covered with make-up and perfume bottles. Frilly lilac curtains at the window and a stash of dolls in one corner gave it a little girly feel, but the rest of the room was more grown-up. Clothes were spilling out of a walk-in wardrobe at the end of the bed.

Shelby pulled the door shut in my face. ‘You not allowed in there. Especially not my closet,' she said. ‘I don't want you touching any of my stuff.'

Did you take lessons in being this mean or were you born naturally gifted?

‘Don't worry,' I said, coldly. ‘I wouldn't touch your stuff if you paid me.'

Shelby's eyes were like tiny stones. ‘Dohn't wahree,' she said, mimicking my accent. She flicked her long hair off
her shoulder and stared at the wooden oval on the string round my neck. ‘At least I
have
nice stuff.'

I felt the heat rise through my throat.

‘No one wants you here, you know,' Shelby sneered. ‘Mom and Dad are making out like this is the most awesome thing that's ever happened to them, but what they really want is the you they remember. A toddler. Not a teenager. Look.' She pointed to a door a little further down the corridor.

The name ‘Martha' was written on the outside in big letters, each one decorated with a different animal. I stared at the ‘M'. It had a monkey painted on the front. I felt the stirring of a memory. This was the first thing in the whole house that felt familiar. I walked right up to the shut door, my stomach churning.

‘Well, why don't you go in?' Shelby said. ‘It's your room.'

I turned the handle. It was a huge room – all bright, primary colours. The walls were yellow, with an alphabet frieze up by the ceiling.

A wooden trunk stood under the window, covered with a pile of dolls and teddy bears.

I wandered over to the single bed beyond the trunk. A blue rabbit with big button eyes lay on top of the soft coverlet. I picked it up. The rabbit was wearing a pink satin ballgown with thin straps. It was worn and one of the long
ears was ripped along the seam. I felt another stirring of recognition. I had loved and cuddled this rabbit when I was little. I was sure.

‘I see you found Baby Rabbit.' Annie was standing at the door, next to Shelby. I was struck by how they both had the same upper lip shape – full, and pointed in a V-shape in the middle.

I remembered the way my mother on the beach had laughed. Somehow I couldn't imagine Annie laughing.

She whispered something to Shelby, who scowled then scuttled off. Annie came inside and shut the door. She ran her fingers over a shelf of little board-books.

‘I kept everything just as it was when . . .' she looked away.

I stood awkwardly, shifting my weight from one leg to the other.

‘For years this was the only place I could be still. The only place I could find any peace,' Annie said. She walked across the room to where I was standing. Her fingers trembled as she touched my arm. ‘Would you like to sleep here? We can go through all the baby things another time – decide what you want to keep.'

I nodded, then shrank back, pulling my arm away from her hand.

Annie stood there for a few seconds, her hand still outstretched. Then she turned and walked out of the room.

I sank down on the bed. Shelby was right. Annie didn't want me. She wanted the daughter she'd lost. She wanted eleven years of meals and cuddles and plasters on knees.

But she didn't want me. Here. Now. As I was.

And I didn't want her – I wanted the mother I had remembered. The woman I had dreamed.

I curled up into a ball and cried until I fell asleep.

29

The row

Several days passed. I was going mad trying to get news about Mum and Dad. Their lawyer drove me nuts. He was like the hardest person in the world to get hold of. Then, when I did speak to him, he gave only vague answers to my biggest questions.

When can I get out of here?

When can I see Mum and Dad?

Not that I was living in some hell-hole. Sam and Annie's house was far smarter and more glamorous than where I lived in London. But it wasn't home.

Missing Mum and Dad was this constant ache. It was strange. Considering how often I'd hated them when we were back in London, I would never have imagined I'd miss them as much as I did. I mean, it wasn't that I wanted to talk to them about anything specific. More that I wanted them there in the background, doing their Mum and Dad thing, alongside all the smells and sounds of my normal life.

After a week or so, I'd kind of settled into a routine.
After Shelby and Madison left for school, I'd get up. Then Sam and I would often go down to the marina. Sam had taken a month's leave of absence from his work. Annie says he's usually really busy, so the month off was a chance for him to unwind as well as to get to know me.

To be honest, I don't think he's massively into unwinding. That's why he spent so much time doing stuff on the
Josephine May
. Sometimes we'd go out, sailing round the bay. Those were my favourite times, especially when Madison came too. We'd stand in the bow, our faces pressed against the wind. And I'd forget about everything.

It's lovely when you get out there in the bay and look back at Evanport. The houses on the west side of the coast are all wooden-boarded and painted in pale pastel colours. Sam said they were really old, though they just looked like big beach houses to me.

Jam had somehow got hold of a video camera phone, which meant now we could send little videos and pictures to each other. We talked all the time. He knew everything. How miserable I was. How much I missed him. How desperately I wanted to come home.

When I wasn't calling or texting him, I wandered about on my own, exploring all the cafés and shops – stores, I should say. Annie and Sam gave me loads of dollars my second day. Told me to go out and buy some new clothes.
I got a new pair of jeans and several cute little tops, plus loads of this fabulous Ultra Babe make-up.

But my best purchase by far were these knee-length brown leather boots with high, spiky heels. I was dead nervous taking them back to the house. Mum would have had a fit if she'd seen me in them, but Annie just said how pretty they were.

MJ called most days, about lunchtime. She kept me upto-date with the search for Sonia Holtwood, which was not going well. Unsurprising really. Sonia Holtwood was just one of a number of identities the woman used. She nicked them from people the same age as her who died when they were kids. Just thinking about it gave me the creeps. Anyway, so far the FBI didn't even know what her real name was.

Annie never tried to talk to me about Sonia, or Mum and Dad. In fact, by the end of my first week, we'd pretty much stopped talking altogether. Well, I'd stopped talking to her.

That sounds mean, doesn't it? But if you'd seen the way she acted, you'd understand. She was always hovering somewhere nearby, watching me all the time. Then she'd give this irritating little cough. ‘Ooh, Lauren,' she'd say – all bright and chirpy. And off she'd go. Did I want more counselling sessions? Would I like to meet the rest of the family? When might I be ready to think about high school?

It was so fake.

I preferred being around Shelby. At least she and I knew we hated each other. But with Annie I felt like an itch she couldn't scratch. The more I drew away from her the more she hovered. The more I made it clear I didn't want to be near her, the more she grasped at me.

I could see Sam was anxious about the whole situation. But no one said anything and the tension between us built up and up. Then, two weeks to the day I'd arrived, everything came to a head.

I'd just been looking at
Goodnight Moon
with Madison. I'd found the book on the shelf in my room. I only had the vaguest memory of actually reading it when I was younger, and the pages were creased and dirty round the edges – but there was something strangely comforting about just holding it in my hand.

I sniffed in the dry, musty, deeply familiar smell of the paper while Madison learned some poem she wanted to do for Show and Tell the next day. She was laughing because she kept getting the words ‘ants' and ‘pants' muddled up.

Then Mum and Dad's lawyer, Mr Sanchez, phoned.

‘Is something wrong?' I said.

‘I do have news,' he said. ‘Taylor Tarsen's out on bail now. And so are your adoptive mom and dad.'

‘So can I see them?' I said eagerly.

‘No. This is the problem,' he said. ‘The Purditts are trying to block any kind of access visit. They are arguing there is a serious legal risk that your adoptive parents will attempt to abduct you if they are allowed to see you.'

‘I'll speak to them,' I said.

I put down the phone, seething with fury.

Annie fluttered out of the kitchen. ‘Any news, Lauren?'

I marched up to her. ‘How dare you try and stop me from seeing my mum and dad.'

Annie blanched. ‘Wait, Lauren,' she said. ‘You don't understand.'

‘They brought me up for eleven years,' I shouted. ‘I have a right to see them.'

Sam and Shelby appeared from nowhere.

‘They took you away from us.' Annie wrung her hands.

‘They didn't know where I'd really come from,' I yelled. ‘But even if they did, they're still my parents more than you are.'

‘Don't speak to my mom like that,' Shelby snapped.

BOOK: Girl, Missing
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