The Girl You Lost: A gripping psychological thriller (10 page)

‘But I’ve already phoned people,’ Hannah says, the tears back in her eyes.

‘I know. It’s just to make double sure. There might be someone you didn’t think of contacting before.’

She nods. ‘Okay. I’ll need to get my phone. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Once she’s left the room, I turn to Abbot but don’t speak. I have no idea how far Hannah has gone, or how soundproof the walls are, and at this moment we can’t trust anyone. Abbot appears to be thinking the same and he only offers me a small smile and raise of his eyebrows.

Minutes tick by before Hannah finally comes back, her eyes less red now. ‘Here,’ she says, handing me a sheet of A4 paper. ‘All the people I could think of.’

I take it from her, fold it and slip it into my bag. ‘We’ll make a start on this as soon as possible.’

‘Thanks. But I don’t hold out much hope.’ Hannah’s eyes well up again.

‘We should get going,’ I say, standing quickly.

Abbot follows my lead. ‘Um, Hannah, would you mind if I use your bathroom?’

Hannah nods. ‘You’ll have to use upstairs, I’m afraid, the downstairs toilet doesn’t flush. Lucas was meant to be getting it fixed but … well … ’

I grab her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

Outside, I wait until we are almost on Notting Hill Gate before I speak about Hannah. ‘So what did you think?’

As always, Abbot knows exactly what I mean. ‘I believe her. I don’t think she knows where her husband is.’

‘I agree. Does that mean Grace is telling the truth? That she really did kill him by mistake?’

Abbot stops walking. ‘I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good.’

‘Well, we’ve got the list of names to check out. We need to know who this man is and what he knows about Helena’s abduction. And how Grace’s disappearance is tied to him.’

Abbot smiles. ‘And we’ve got this.’ He moves one side of his coat aside and reveals a Mac Book Air tucked under his arm.

‘What? Where did—’

‘When I went to the bathroom I had a bit of a snoop. Found this in the study. It could be Hannah’s of course, but no harm checking. I’ll take a look at it after work tonight.’

‘Wait, are you the same person who told me we shouldn’t break into Ginny’s house?’

Abbot smiles. ‘I figured we’ve already crossed the line and now I want answers as much as you do. It’s the journalist in me.’

‘But what if she notices it’s missing?’

‘There are so many gadgets upstairs in that house I doubt she’ll notice it’s gone. But if she does she may assume Lucas has taken it with him.’

I don’t know whether I want to hug him or smack him for taking such a risk. ‘Thanks, Abbot. You always do go above and beyond. That’s why you’re so good at your job.’

He shrugs and we resume walking, but I sense his embarrassment at my compliment. A vision of Matt floats into my head, and with it a reminder of all the pain we have experienced together. I hate keeping things from him, but I need to protect him, at least until I know what’s going on.

M
att is
asleep on the sofa when I get home from work. I tiptoe in and curl up next to him, breathing in his familiar scent. Although we have been together over twenty years, and his hair, body and face may have gone through small changes, his smell remains the same, always comforting.

‘You’re back,’ he says, slowly opening his eyes and pulling me closer towards him. ‘Sorry, I just needed a nap. So tired.’

I offer to make some macaroni cheese and his face lights up. It’s a simple meal but is one of his favourites.

Standing up, I watch as he stretches, his hair ruffled from where he’s been lying against the sofa cushion. ‘I meant to ask but forgot this morning. Do you remember that private detective we hired when Helena was taken? Mark?’

Matt sits up. ‘Yeah, Mark Hunter. Why?’

‘I was talking to the Brays about him and said I’d get his details for them. I mean, he was good, wasn’t he? Even though he couldn’t find her. He did try.’

Matt nods and stares at the floor. ‘Yep, he was. But it was a long time ago and there’s a chance he may not even be doing the job these days. I don’t have his card any more but I’m sure he’ll be on the Internet somewhere.’

While I cook dinner, I realise that as well as helping the Brays, Mark Hunter might also be able to help me find Grace. I won’t be able to tell him what Grace confessed to me – he would be duty-bound to contact the police – but he may be able to help me track her down.

Leaving the macaroni to simmer, I pull out my phone and click on the Internet browser, typing
Mark Hunter
into the search box. Immediately I am inundated with hits, but a quick scroll down the page shows me that none of them refer to the man I am looking for, and there is no mention of any detective or private investigation agency. Puzzled, I stick the phone back in my pocket and try to bury my disappointment.

All I know is that I won’t give up on Grace, even if it’s just down to Abbot and me to find her by ourselves.

F
our days have passed
since Grace tracked me down in John Lewis and I am no closer to the truth. In fact, each passing hour seems to throw up new questions, forcing my thoughts to spin in a vortex I can’t slow down.

For some reason, Fridays at work are always a frantic rush, and today is no exception. It’s as if the news is playing a cruel joke on us: take this to ruin your weekend. Abbot is pulled away all morning to work on a breaking story – a high-profile politician has been caught with a prostitute – so it is lunchtime before I have a chance to speak to him.

He finds me in one of the conference rooms, where I have come to gather my thoughts. ‘I picked you up a sandwich,’ he says, ‘as I know you won’t have thought about lunch.’ He places it on the table in front of me.

Thanking him, I pull out the chair next to me, but leave the sandwich in its bag. ‘Any luck with the laptop?’

‘Not yet. It’s heavily security protected and is beyond even what I can do, but I’ve got a friend looking into it. He’s good, he’ll crack the password quickly.’ Abbot sits down and pulls out his sandwich. ‘In the meantime, what’s our next step?’

I have given this a lot of thought overnight, going over and over what I know and what we should do next. I explain to Abbot there are two things. First I need to cross-reference the list Hannah gave us with Ginny’s address book to see if there are any contacts they both have in common. I don’t know if it will do any good, but it’s all I can think of. I also need to find out more about Ginny. I don’t think any of her friends will speak to me about her, but I could contact her manager at work, tell her care agency the same story I told Ginny; that I need a reliable carer for my mum. I may be able to get some information from them.

Abbot’s eyes widen. ‘Wow, you’ve clearly done a lot of thinking. Okay, it seems like a good place to start. Listen, I’ve asked to leave early tonight, so I can start working on those contacts.’

A wave of guilt floods through me; Abbot is so conscientious about his job. ‘Are you sure? I was going to do it myself. I really don’t want this to interfere with your work.’

He picks up his sandwich but doesn’t take a bite. ‘It’s fine, they owe me some annual leave so I’ll just use some of that. To be honest, this is all giving me something other than work to focus on, and that can’t be a bad thing, can it?’

‘I really appreciate this. Thank you.’

Abbot avoids eye contact and stares at his sandwich. ‘You know you don’t need to thank me.’

I give his arm a quick squeeze. ‘Right, well, after work I’ll pay a visit to Angel Carers. They’re based in Putney so shall I come to yours afterwards? We can go through whatever we find out?’

Abbot nods. ‘Sounds good. And I promise to be fully dressed this time.’

We finish our sandwiches and then I call Tamsin Bray to let her know about Mark Hunter.

‘That’s strange,’ she says, her voice soft and strained. I wonder again if she is always so quietly spoken or whether it’s only since her daughter went missing. ‘There’s no record of him at all? Are you sure you’ve got his name right?’

I tell her I’ll never forget his name and through the silence that follows I can almost touch her disappointment. ‘It was eighteen years ago, though, Tamsin. He probably wouldn’t have had a website then so that could explain why there’s no mention of him. And maybe he gave it up soon after our case?’

‘Okay. Thanks for trying. We’ll find someone else.’ She falls silent, not realising that I am just as disappointed as she is. I had a glimmer of hope that Mark could help me again, but now it’s just down to Abbot and me.

Even though I already know the answer, I ask her how she’s holding up.

‘I’ve set up a website. Well, a friend of Charlotte’s did it for us. FindCharlotte.com. We’ve already had lots of hits and loads of support from people we don’t even know. I don’t think it will help us find her but it’s nice to know people are thinking of us.’

I tell her it’s a great idea and promise to check it out. Before we hang up I make sure she knows I am there for her if she needs anything. I know my words are futile – unless I can find her daughter there is nothing that will help – but I need her to know I care, that I understand the pain she feels.

It is impossible not to think of Grace once I’ve ended the call, and I try her mobile again. I am so used to it being switched off that I expect nothing else, and I am right again. I know Ginny and Jasmine don’t seem to think she is missing but something still doesn’t feel right. But I have little to go on right now until I can find out more about Ginny Rhodes. I probably won’t learn much from her employer, but it’s a start. Picking up my mobile once more, I scroll to Angel Carers and connect the call.

I
am
in Putney by ten to five, with just enough time to make it to my appointment. The office is a fifteen minute walk from the train station and I almost run there, not wanting to be late and antagonise anyone when I need their help. The manager has already agreed to wait for me to arrive, even though she usually leaves at five.

‘Hi,’ the receptionist says, when I push through the doors. She looks about my age and already has her coat on. ‘You must be Hayley?’

I am about to correct her, when I remember I have had to use this name again. ‘Sorry for keeping you back late,’ I say.

The receptionist waves off my apology and tells me to take a seat, before disappearing around a corner. The only chairs are by the large front window and it is growing dark outside so I feel as if I’m in a goldfish bowl, on show to anyone outside, while through the window all I can see is the reflection of the room I’m in. The office is tiny, but the plants and flowers scattered around make it feel welcoming.

‘Hayley, hi! I’m Cassandra.’

I hear the woman before I see her, her voice loud and deep, echoing through the room.

Standing up, I move across to her and she vigorously shakes my hand. She appears to be in her early fifties, and her dark hair is scraped back in a tight bun. I feel as if her eyes are probing me, already trying to work me out.

‘Thanks for meeting me at such short notice,’ I say, the smile I offer her genuine, despite my deception.

‘Let’s go in my office. I’ve had the heating on in there so it’s a lot warmer than out here.’ She wraps her arms around herself to emphasise her point.

I follow her through a narrow corridor and eventually she leads me into a small room at the back of the building. Her desk is cluttered with family photos, and behind her chair hangs a large whiteboard, scrawled with names in green pen. I take a seat, but not before I spot Ginny’s name with an arrow pointing to the name of someone I assume she cares for.

Cassandra smiles, folding her hands together on the desk. ‘So, you’re interested in one of our carers looking after your mother, I believe?’

I nod. ‘That’s right. Her daughter and my daughter are friends, so that’s how I heard about her. Ginny Rhodes.’ I try not to glance at the whiteboard, and force myself into the role of concerned relative.

Cassandra’s eyes brighten. ‘Ah, Ginny. She’s one of our best. All her clients love her.’ She must think my surprise is from her use of the term
clients
because she quickly explains. ‘That’s what we like to call the people we look after. It lets them know they’re important, and it’s better than calling them patients, because that’s not what they are. And as they’re not in care homes, they’re not really residents, are they?’

‘I agree,’ I tell her. ‘And I’m sure my mum will be in the best possible hands here. What I’d like, though, is just a bit more information on Ginny. I just want to make sure she’s a good match for Mum. Is that okay?’

Cassandra places a hand on her computer mouse and the monitor springs to life. ‘Well, it’s not really what we usually do, I mean, all our carers are thoroughly screened of course, so the fact they’re with us is a reference in itself. But I understand your need for as much information as possible.’ She turns to the screen. ‘Let me just check some details on our system. We keep detailed notes on all our carers, and although I can’t let you see them, it will help me give you a good idea about how well thought of Ginny is.’

I thank her and wait while she taps keys and concentrates on the monitor. She reads for a few moments and jots notes on an A5 pad of paper. Finally, she finishes and turns back to me.

‘Okay, well, Ginny’s been with us for over ten years and in that time she’s had nothing but glowing feedback from all her clients. She’s dealt with all sorts of issues, from Alzheimer’s to Cystic Fibrosis, and she goes out of her way to learn everything she can about the people she cares for. I can promise you, your mother will be in great hands.’

She places her pen down and waits for me to speak. So this is it. I’m going to get nothing more than a vague account of how good Ginny is at her job. I don’t know what I was expecting, but of course Cassandra can’t tell me anything personal. All I’ve managed to learn is that Ginny appears to be a decent person, the description I’ve just been fed far removed from that of a woman who could abduct a baby. But I remind myself again that you can never know what people are capable of.

‘That all sounds great,’ I say to Cassandra. ‘She seems perfect. I don’t suppose there’s any way I could speak to any of the people she cares for? Just to get more of a picture of how she goes about caring on a day-to-day basis.’

Cassandra frowns, and I worry I have pushed too far. ‘Sorry, we just can’t allow that. Our clients are classed as vulnerable, so we can’t just let people grill them for details of our carers.’

‘Yes, of course. I understand.’ My eyes flick to the whiteboard and I focus on one of the names next to Ginny’s. Ivy Whitehouse. And next to it is an address. Pams Way, Ewell.

‘Can I just ask what you use the whiteboard for?’ I know it is none of my business, but I have to try.

Cassandra turns around. ‘Oh, that’s just to note down any people leaving our care. It’s usually because they no longer need help, or because they’ve moved from our area.’

This is interesting. I now have the name of one of Ginny’s
clients.
There is only one thing I can do with this information. I tell Cassandra I’ll speak to my mother about Ginny and call the agency to get it all arranged.

She reaches across the desk to shake my hand. ‘That’s great. I’m sure she’ll be very happy with Ginny.’

T
his time
when he answers his door, Abbot is wearing a thick jumper, the collar of a red polo shirt visible underneath. ‘Is this better?’ he asks, winking at me. ‘I’ve layered up just for you.’

‘A great improvement,’ I say, pulling off my coat.

‘I’ve had a productive afternoon,’ he says. ‘Come through and I’ll tell you about it.’

We sit on Abbot’s sofa with his laptop between us. ‘Okay, so I compared Hannah’s list with Ginny’s address book, and there are only two contacts the same. One is Daniel, Ginny’s brother, but that’s no surprise as they were friends. The other name is Nicholas Gibbs. Did Grace ever mention him?’

I shake my head. ‘No. I’ve not heard that name before.’

‘Well, I Googled him, and this is what I found.’

Abbot slides the laptop towards me and I pick it up and place it on my lap. An unfamiliar face stares back at me. It is a friendly face and the man’s smile stretches across it; his shining dark eyes and smooth head make his age hard to guess. I wonder if he is losing his hair or whether he chooses to have it shaved so close.

The website I’m looking at is for a computer games company called Alpha Games, and I pore over the short paragraphs, quickly learning that Nicholas Gibbs created and owns the company.

Beside me, Abbot can no longer control his excitement. ‘The guy must be loaded. His company have made some of the best PlayStation games. I’ve got most of them!’ He points to his TV, where for the first time I notice the cabinet is stacked with games.

‘Weird. How would he and Ginny know each other? She didn’t strike me as the type to be into gaming. And there was no evidence of it in her home.’

Abbot focuses once again. ‘I thought the same thing. But I guess they could just know each other through Lucas? Or Daniel, Ginny’s brother? You never know how people from different worlds can be brought together.’ He reaches for his laptop before continuing. ‘Now we’ve got a lead,’ he says. ‘We can pay this Nicholas a visit, under the pretext of helping Hannah, and see what we can find out about Lucas. Tomorrow’s Saturday so there’s a chance he’ll be home if we just turn up.’

‘But we don’t have his address. Hannah only gave us phone numbers.’

Abbot waves Ginny’s address book in front of me. ‘Lucky Ginny still records her contacts the old-fashioned way then, isn’t it?’

I can’t help but smile. The book may be able to help me with something else too. Snatching it from him, I flick through to the
W
section and scan the page. There she is. Ivy Whitehouse. 10 Pams Way.

‘What are you up to?’ Abbot asks.

‘Before we meet tomorrow there’s something I need to do. I found out from Angel Carers, without them knowing, that Ginny looks after a woman called Ivy Whitehouse. I’m going to pay her a visit and see if I can find anything out about Ginny. I mean, they obviously spend a lot of time together, they’re bound to have talked a lot. Which means that this lady’s in a good position to know things about her.’ I pass the book back to him. ‘And I’m in luck because her full address is in there.’

Abbot frowns. ‘Sim, are you sure about this? Taking Lucas’s laptop was bad enough, but do you think we’re going a bit far now? And I doubt she’ll tell you that she thinks Ginny’s daughter isn’t really hers.’

‘I know. But somewhere along the line, Ginny might have slipped up with something. I’ve got to try, Abbot. I need the truth.’

He thinks about this for a moment. Surely he is realising I don’t have much choice. ‘I guess,’ he says eventually. ‘Just be careful. You could get in serious trouble for turning up at this woman’s house. Especially if she’s elderly or frail.’

I tell him not to worry, that I’ve got it covered. But the truth is I have no idea what I will say to Ivy Whitehouse.