The Girl You Lost: A gripping psychological thriller (16 page)

I
sit
in the car outside the Brays’ house and call Abbot. It is ten to nine so I’ve got a few minutes before I speak to Charlotte, a few minutes to get straight how I will begin. Once again, Abbot’s voicemail kicks in, and I hang up without leaving a message. He will know from the number of missed calls that I am desperate to speak to him.

Through the car window I stare at the house and wonder what activity is taking place behind the walls. I imagine Charlotte will be in her bedroom, with her mother downstairs fussing over her, cooking a breakfast she won’t eat, doing what any mother would do. And all Charlotte will want is to be left alone.

But things are about to get worse for her because in a few minutes I have to question her about Lucas Hall.

Tamsin greets me at the front door, her hair still wet from her shower and a huge white bathrobe swamping her thin frame. ‘Sorry, I’m running a bit late this morning.’ She pulls the belt of her dressing gown tighter around her waist. ‘Elliott forgot to wake me. I was tempted to call him and make a fuss but I know he’ll just say I’m exhausted and needed the rest.’ She pulls me inside and closes the door. ‘I know I should be ecstatic, after all, my girl’s back, but …’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘She’s not herself.’ I don’t add that this is only just the beginning of the Brays’ nightmare, or that I am about to make things a whole lot worse. ‘It will take time, but you’ll get there.’ As I say this I am swamped with guilt for not talking to Tamsin about Lucas Hall first. She has the right to know what questions I’m about to ask her daughter. But I can’t take the chance she will stop me. Charlotte is somehow mixed up with Lucas Hall and that means there is a link between her and Grace.

Tamsin takes my hand. ‘I’m so sorry, listen to me. I’m complaining when you … your baby …’

‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘Please don’t apologise.’

‘Thank you for doing this, offering to try again, after last time. I can’t tell you what it means to us.’

I warn her that I still can’t guarantee anything, but it’s worth another shot.

Tamsin says she will make coffee, and I head upstairs to Charlotte’s room, my body weighed down with guilt and anxiety. The chances of her talking to me are slim, but if she does then what could I be about to find out?

Her room smells musty, although at least now the curtains are slightly open, casting a slim rectangle of light onto the carpet. Charlotte sits on the floor with her back against the side of the bed, white iPod headphones protruding from her ears. She glances up as I walk in, but quickly stares down at her lap, twisting the white cable around her pale finger.

‘Hi Charlotte, remember me? Simone Porter? Is it okay if we have a quick chat?’ I move closer towards her.

There is no reaction, just a blank face, as if my words have bounced off her and dissolved in the air. I try to remember if Tamsin has ever mentioned Charlotte having any interests, but nothing springs to mind. She must be fond of dogs, though, as she helps out in the family business. It’s worth a try.

‘So you like dogs?’ I say, joining her on the floor, but keeping a distance between us. It feels as though I’m talking to a young child, and I hope I’m not patronising her. But nothing I say is working, so I decide to change tack and get straight to the point.

‘Charlotte, I’m here about a serious issue and I really need your help.’

A flick of her eyebrow.

‘I don’t want to scare you, but lives could be in danger.’

This time her leg shifts to the right, but she’s too good at this game to give in so easily.

‘I’m looking for someone and I think you might know him.’ Still silence. ‘His name is Lucas Hall.’

This time she turns her head and stares at me, her eyes widening as her brain catches up with what she’s heard. I wait, but she remains silent.

‘Charlotte? Do you know where Lucas is? Has he hurt you? Please talk to me. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I know you’ve been through a lot, but this is an emergency.’

She twists her whole body towards me and one of her earphones slips out, emitting the tinny sound of her music into the room. Ignoring it, her eyes bore into me, but then finally she speaks. ‘No. I … I don’t know who you’re talking about.’

Surprised she’s finally spoken, I move a bit closer towards her. ‘Charlotte, please, listen to me. Did he … hurt you? Did he have anything to do with your disappearance?’

She shakes her head. ‘No, I told you. I don’t know who you’re talking about.’

I wait for her to tell me to leave but she doesn’t. I know I am making her uncomfortable but I have no choice. ‘Charlotte. I saw the emails you sent each other. I know you were seeing each other.’

‘That’s not true,’ she says. ‘Please, can you just go? I’ve got nothing to say. To anyone. I just want to be left alone.’

I move back. ‘I know, Charlotte. I totally understand that. But Lucas has … hurt someone. A young woman. And now he’s missing and I need to know where he is. Do you have any idea where he could be?’

She shakes her head. ‘You’ve got it wrong. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. He wouldn’t.’

Finally, a breakthrough. But her words must mean he wasn’t responsible for her absence. ‘So you do know him?’

She gives a barely perceptible nod.

‘Then if you think he wouldn’t hurt anyone, help me prove that. Please.’

Her face softens as she contemplates her choices, but it is short-lived. The next moment, her eyes turn cold once more and she shakes her head.

‘I’ve told you. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. And I don’t know where he is.’ She turns away and pops her earphone back in, but the music has stopped now.

I am fighting a losing battle here. ‘Can I give you my number?’

She gives me a
do what you want
shrug and turns away as I fish in my bag for my notebook. Scribbling down my mobile number, I stand up and hand her the sheet of paper. She doesn’t take it, but I loosen my grip and watch it float to the carpet.

Defeated, I head to the door and am nearly through it and in the hall when she calls me back.

‘Please, Simone. Don’t tell my mum.’

Offering her a smile that is neither agreement nor refusal, I say goodbye and click the door shut behind me.

Tamsin is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. ‘That was quick,’ she says. ‘No luck, then?’

‘I think she just needs more time. Actually, I’m really sorry, Tamsin, but I need to rush off. Emergency at work. But I’ll call you later, okay?’ I feel bad doing this to her but I need to find Abbot and tell him Charlotte won’t talk. I also need to know why he hasn’t been answering his phone.

Tamsin’s eyes widen. ‘Oh, okay. But please come back soon. Don’t give up on her.’

Outside in the car I try Abbot again. When he actually answers, it is all I can do not to shout at him.

‘I know, I know,’ he says. ‘My battery died and I left my charger at home. I’ve been out all night. Sim, I’ve got so much to tell you. Where are you?’

I tell him I’m just about to leave the Brays’ house and that Charlotte was no help.

‘Meet me in Richmond Park,’ he says. I’ve been cooped up in the car all night and I need some air. We can have a walk and talk properly then.’

A
bbot is standing
outside the park entrance when I get there, wearing his scarf, gloves and thick padded coat. I half-register the peaceful scenery, but we might as well be in an alleyway because I am too jittery to appreciate it.

‘I was worried about you,’ I say, punching his arm. But I will save my lecture for later; there are more important things to discuss.

As we walk, I fill him in on my conversation with Charlotte. ‘We won’t get anywhere with her, and I don’t want to upset Tamsin, but she definitely had something going on with Lucas. I could tell by her reaction to hearing his name.’

‘Did she seem upset when you said he was missing?’ Abbot asks.

I think back. ‘Not visibly.’

‘Then do you think she’s lying? Covering for him?’

‘It’s possible, but there’s no way to get the truth out of her. We can’t forget what she’s been through. But it seems unlikely that Lucas was responsible if she’s defending him like this.’

Abbot reminds me that we have no idea what she’s been through, only that she disappeared. And it is still possible she was with Lucas, so that puts doubt on her being a traumatised victim.

‘So another dead end,’ I say, pulling the belt of my coat tighter around me. The wool offers me little protection against the harsh wind, and I long to be inside somewhere. ‘What about you? What happened with Ginny?’

Abbot stops walking and looks around. Spotting a bench, he suggests we sit down.

‘Is it that bad?’ I ask, wondering if I’m about to hear that Grace was there and has admitted her claim to be Helena has been a cruel deception.

‘Just come and sit,’ he says, already heading towards the bench.

‘Abbot, you’re scaring me. What happened?’

A look I’ve never seen before crosses his face and he remains silent. The warmth has gone from his eyes, their brightness faded by something. Is it fear? Guilt? Whatever he needs to tell me, he is finding it hard. Finally he begins speaking, and I listen as he fills me in on his night.

When Ginny answered her door, Abbot gave her the story about helping Hannah Hall find Lucas. She immediately let him in, and they sat at the kitchen table – just as I had done only days ago – and drank coffee while they talked, as if they had known each other for years rather than minutes.

Something stirs within me when he explains this part. I know Abbot was only doing what he had to, but is it resentment I feel that he is bonding with the woman who could have stolen my baby? I force aside my irrational thoughts and focus on what he is saying.

Ginny was disturbed that Lucas has disappeared, and told Abbot the last time she saw him was a couple of weeks ago, when he’d popped over to check she was okay after her brother’s death. ‘But then I got called to work,’ she says, ‘and left him with Grace. He was gone by the time I got home.’

When Abbot asked if Grace had told her what she and Lucas talked about, she shook her head, telling him it couldn’t have been important as Grace shared everything with her.

Then an idea occurred to him and Abbot asked Ginny if she’d mind texting Grace, just to double check, watching her phone as she sent the message.

‘It was definitely to Grace’s phone,’ he says, before I can ask if he’s sure the text was actually sent to anyone.

Within five minutes, Grace had replied, saying she hadn’t seen him and ending the text with a
love you
and four kisses.

‘I’m sorry, but I saw it,’ Abbot says.

It is bad enough hearing all this, but what he says next causes a bomb to explode in my head.

‘Sim, listen. I really don’t think she abducted Helena. I’ve been going over and over it all night and I think we’ve got it wrong.’

I swallow the anger rising in my throat. ‘Why? Why are you so sure?’

‘Sim, how long have you known me? Wouldn’t you say I’m a pretty good judge of character?’

This is true. Whatever story he’s covering at work, Abbot instantly gets the measure of people, even when he’s in the minority, even when he’s fighting a battle to be heard. But nobody is infallible.

I nod and he continues.

‘I spent ages talking to the woman and I hardly had to ask about Grace. It quickly became clear that she loves her daughter. I couldn’t get her off the subject.’

‘That doesn’t mean anything! Of course, she loves her. She’s been her mother for eighteen years. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t—’

‘I just think we need to be sure before we approach her. The evidence we’ve got is weak. And what’s made you so sure? At first you were keeping an open mind about Grace, but now it seems you’re convinced she’s Helena.’

I think about this for a moment. I don’t know when it crept up on me, this overwhelming feeling that Grace is my daughter. I don’t even think until this moment I have fully believed it, but I do now. Despite Abbot’s opinion.

‘A mother’s instinct,’ I say. It is the only answer I can give, even though I know Abbot won’t understand it. ‘And I don’t want to just dismiss the fact that Ginny might have had something to do with it. Not until we can be sure.’

‘Sim, listen, I really think it’s more likely that Grace was lying, we just don’t know why.’

My phone rings from somewhere inside my bag, saving me from having to reply to Abbot. I fumble around and pull it out, thinking any minute the anonymous caller will hang up.

I don’t recognise the voice on the other end, but the woman asks for Hayley, so I am immediately on alert. ‘It’s Hannah,’ she says. ‘Lucas’s wife?’

I ask her how she’s doing, my mind already expecting to hear something that will lead us to Lucas.

‘Not good,’ she says. ‘Well, I mean, I’ve had some news, and I suppose I should feel better, but actually I don’t.’

‘What news?’ I ask, ‘Have you found him?’

‘Yes, well, sort of. He texted me about five minutes ago, saying he’s met someone else and he’s in France now. With her.’

I am so stunned by this information that it takes me a few seconds to respond. ‘I’m … oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Why France?’

‘Apparently she’s French and they’re staying with her family for a bit.’ Her voice becomes shaky and she pauses, making me wonder if she is forcing back tears. ‘He’ll be back, though, because he still has the business to run. No doubt he expects me to take care of it while he’s off with his whore … Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. I understand. I’m just sorry you have to go through all this.’

She thanks me for all my help and hangs up, and now I have to tell Abbot we’ve got even more evidence to prove Grace was lying.

He takes my hand. ‘I’m sorry, Sim. I know this hasn’t turned out how you expected.’

I pull my hand away, hating myself for doing it. ‘It’s not over, though, is it? Not until I’ve spoken to Grace myself and found out why she lied. This is not the end.’

‘It never will be for you, though, will it? Don’t you see that? This isn’t about Grace or Lucas or Ginny any more, this is about Helena and your need for answers.’