The Girl You Lost: A gripping psychological thriller (18 page)

I
t is nearly
five a.m. by the time I pull up at Ginny’s house. The street is still asleep, shrouded in darkness, but behind her curtains light struggles to shine through her downstairs windows. She has been waiting for me.

I walk to the front door and send her a text to tell her I’m here. Although she is expecting me, I don’t want to ring anyone’s doorbell at this time in the morning.

A shadow appears through the glass and the door opens. Ginny is dressed in a long thick dressing grown and her feet are bare. ‘Hello again,’ she says. ‘Simone, isn’t it? Funny, that suits you better than Hayley.’

I feel my cheeks redden, even though she is the one who should feel ashamed. Her lie is far worse than mine.

‘But thanks for coming,’ she continues, stepping aside. ‘Come in, there’s a lot we need to talk about, isn’t there?’

The second I am in her hallway again, the anger I’ve kept bottled up explodes within me. ‘I need explanations and I need them now.’

If she is surprised by the firmness of my voice she doesn’t show it. ‘Yes, I know. There’s so much to say and I don’t know where to start. But, please, let me get you a drink. I bet you didn’t stop at all on the way here – you must be dying of thirst.’

She is stalling, but I will let her have her way. I
am
thirsty, and at least I’m here now. I will find out what happened to Helena. I tell her water will be fine; accepting any other drink from her, as if we are friends having a chat, feels wrong.

She moves off to the kitchen but doesn’t tell me to follow so I stay where I am, my anxiety increasing by the second. I haven’t thought this through properly. This woman stole my daughter and now I’m alone in her house and nobody knows where I am. I think of Abbot, how he should be here with me, how if we hadn’t argued I would have asked him to come. After all, he has been with me every step of this journey, until now.

But I cannot think of myself now; I am here for Helena and, whatever the risks, I am doing what I have to for my daughter. I can think of her as that now because surely that’s why Ginny has asked me here. I am finally going to get the truth.

When she comes back with a glass of water she seems surprised to find me still in the hall. ‘Shall we go in there?’ she says, heading past me to the living room.

‘So, you must have a million questions.’ Ginny sits at one end of the sofa and I pick the furthest seat from her.

‘I do. I—’

‘You must have realised this by now but I know all about you, Simone Porter.’

I don’t answer. This is all wrong. I am the one who should be interrogating her.

‘I know your baby was abducted eighteen years ago. Sorry to be blunt.’ Of course she knows this, when she is the one responsible for it happening.

‘Okay, enough,’ I say. ‘This isn’t about me, this is about you and what you’ve done.’

She stares at me for a moment, frowning, trying to work me out. ‘Okay,’ she says. ‘You’re right. But first let me tell you how I found out. You must want to know that?’

‘Okay,’ I agree, ‘let’s start there.’ But I am becoming unnerved. The woman is too confident, too sure of herself considering she has committed such a heinous crime. Something feels wrong.

She leans forward and lowers her voice, even though we are alone. ‘After your friend Abbot was here I got worried about Lucas. He was a good friend of Daniel’s, you see, so I care about him too. Anyway, I contacted Hannah Hall and she told me how nice Hayley was. Hayley, the old friend of Lucas’s from uni. Now I don’t claim to know everything about Lucas – far from it – but Daniel and Lucas had a lot of the same friends, and I’d never heard either of them mention anyone called Hayley. And then I remembered the Hayley who came to see me. Grace’s friend’s mother. The one who was looking for a carer for her mum. Call me paranoid, but my instinct was screaming at me that something wasn’t right.’

She pauses for breath and waits for my reaction. What I want to tell her is that of course she is suspicious of everyone. She stole a baby, so she’s got to have spent her whole life expecting the walls to come crashing down on her. But I will save my admonishment until I hear her admit it.

‘Anyway,’ she says, when I don’t respond. ‘The first thing I did was call my agency. And as I expected, Cassandra said a woman called Hayley had been in to discuss me, but had never followed it up.’ She smiles at me, proud of her detective work. ‘Well, what was I supposed to think after that? So then I went to Grace’s uni. And guess who I spoke to? Yes, Jasmine. You know – the Jasmine whose mother is Chinese?’

‘Can you get to the point?’ I say, fed up with her smugness.

She narrows her eyes. ‘Well, I’m sure you can guess the rest. Jasmine told me my friend had been to see her, looking for Grace, and all my suspicions were confirmed.’ She pauses again, and shakes her head. ‘But, Simone, it’s not even important now, because I need your help. I don’t know where Grace is. She hasn’t turned up for lectures all week and although I’ve had some texts from her, I now know it’s not her sending them.’

My stomach flips. ‘I thought she was visiting a friend? What do you mean the texts aren’t from her?’ But even as I say this, I’m not sure I truly believed that’s what Grace was doing.

‘When your friend was here I got a text message from her. But I know one hundred per cent that Grace didn’t write it. You see, she signed it off,
love Gracie
.’ She looks at me as if I should know what she’s talking about. ‘She never calls herself that,’ she explains. ‘Never. She only likes “Grace”, no shortening or changing it in any way.’

‘But—’

‘Ever,’ Ginny says. ‘Even as a child she used to tell people off if they called her anything other than Grace.’ Her reference to Grace as a child sends a chill through my body, but I try to focus on what she’s telling me. ‘Anyway, I’ve checked with all her friends and none of them have heard from her since last week. She definitely isn’t staying with any of them. So, please, Simone, you’ve got to help me. I really think we’re in this together.’

There is no doubt in my mind about what I need to do. ‘Of course I’ll help, but I need some answers. You must know that. Is Grace … my daughter?’

Ginny’s face softens, the harsh angular lines becoming rounder somehow. ‘I will tell you everything, Simone, but I need to ask – how did you find us? How did you know about Grace in the first place? I’ve been trying to work it out all day but I just can’t.’

And now it is my turn to speak. I tell her about Grace approaching me in Oxford Street last week, and about Lucas having given her my name. I almost tell her what Grace told me he did to her, but leave this part out. No matter what has happened, I made a promise to Grace and I doubt she will want Ginny to know the details.

Ginny remains silent the whole time I speak, but her eyes become glazed with sadness. She has been betrayed by someone she considered a friend.

Reaching into my bag, I pull out the velvet rabbit and hold it out to her. Staying silent, she takes it from me, examining every part of it. She makes no move to give it back but keeps it clutched in her palm as she faces me again.

‘I get it now. Of course you suspected me of abducting your baby – it’s the most obvious scenario, isn’t it? But please believe me, that is not what happened. I would never do that. Never.’ Her last word echoes through the house.

‘Then what the hell happened? How did Grace end up with Helena’s rabbit? Tell me now.’ I lean across and grab the rabbit, pushing it back in my bag before she can object. Whatever has happened, Grace gave it to
me
.

Avoiding eye contact, Ginny clears her throat and begins to speak, each sentence she utters tearing into me like a bullet. ‘I had cancer when I was twelve and I needed chemotherapy. Lots of it. It was a long journey to recovery, but I would have gone through it a thousand times over if there had been any way the doctors could have preserved my fertility.’ She pauses and looks at me, but all she will see is my impassive expression. Although her story saddens me, whatever she has been through is no excuse for abducting a baby. My baby.

‘Anyway, I gradually got better and for a long time didn’t give much thought to not being able to have a baby. I mean, who would at that age? It’s something that seems a million years away, isn’t it?’

Again, I don’t react but wait for her to get to the part about Helena. Anger boils inside me but I somehow manage to keep it down. For now.

Ginny continues talking. She tells me how suddenly in her mid-twenties she realised the extent of what the chemotherapy had done to her, how it had left her bereft of the chance to have a family. Which then became all she wanted.

I can no longer contain myself. ‘That doesn’t give you the right to take someone else’s!’ I scream. ‘All you did was leave me with the same gaping hole you must have felt. In fact, no, it was worse, much worse. Because we already had our little girl. We had her for six months. And then you took her from us.’

Ginny remains calm. ‘Please, Simone, hear me out, hear everything I’ve got to say and then you can say whatever you like to me.’

I fold my arms and lean forward to try and stop the cramps beginning in my stomach.

‘I couldn’t have relationships,’ she continues. ‘What was the point? If they were ever to turn into something long term then I’d only have to tell the person I couldn’t have children. So I cut myself off from men, kept to myself, focused on caring for others instead. But the pain was always there, a constant reminder of what I would never have.’

She is acting as if I don’t know what this is like, how the pain may dull but is a constant companion. ‘Get to the point. You must understand that it’s hard for me to sympathise with you?’

She nods. ‘Anyway, when I was thirty, my brother Daniel came to me and said he had a female friend who had got pregnant by mistake. She was a young girl and just couldn’t have looked after a baby, but she was too scared to have a termination. Daniel said she was so desperate she might have dumped the baby, or worse, so he told her that if she had it, I would raise the baby as my own. The girl didn’t hesitate to agree. He had sorted it all out with her before he even came to me with the idea.’

It takes me a moment to realise what Ginny is telling me, and when it sinks in I struggle to believe her. Surely it is a convenient and far-fetched story? ‘You mean you didn’t take Helena? My baby?’

She looks directly at me and I only see sincerity in her expression. ‘No, Simone. I swear to you I would never do that. ‘

‘But … who was this girl? Did you ever meet her?’

She shakes her head. ‘No. Daniel told me it was best to stay out of it. All I had to do was pretend to be pregnant, which was easy as I was quite overweight then. Plus, I kept myself to myself and only really saw the elderly people I cared for. Nobody suspected I was lying about being pregnant.’ She stares at the floor; at least she has the decency to feel ashamed.

‘I know how awful it sounds … how beyond belief even. But I was desperate. And I never stopped to question Daniel about the morality of what we were doing. I thought we were helping this girl, and helping me at the same time.’

There are tears in her eyes now, but it’s still not enough to soften me. ‘So you’re saying Grace is not Helena? But why did Lucas tell her about me? I must have something to do with this.’

Ginny stares at the floor. ‘I knew at the time a baby had been abducted, but I never for one second connected it with my baby. Why would I? My brother and I were so close, he would never have done that. But now I know different.’ She wipes at her eyes. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I think Lucas was telling the truth and Daniel took your baby. For me. And she came with that blue rabbit. There was no pregnant girl.’

I
stare
open-mouthed at Ginny, scanning her face for any signs of deceit. Her tears have stopped and now all I see is sadness. I have spent the last few days certain that if Grace was telling the truth then Ginny must be the one responsible for her abduction. It never occurred to me that she could be in any way innocent.

I have so many questions for her that I don’t know where to begin. ‘So … you think your brother abducted my daughter? Are you sure? And where do you think she is now?’

She offers a thin smile. ‘I can’t be completely sure, not without proof, but it looks that way. Otherwise, why would his best friend tell Grace about you? But whatever Daniel did, I really think he did it for me. I’m not saying his actions are in any way excusable, but he just wanted me to be happy.’

My blood boils. ‘There are other things you could have done. Legal things. Adoption. Fostering. IVF. And no matter how close the two of you were, why would he do this? Break the law for you?’

‘I know it’s awful, but we were really close. Our parents died when Daniel had only just left school, so all we had was each other. I think he couldn’t bear to see me in pain.’

I can’t respond to this; I have too many other questions to ask Ginny. ‘But Helena was six months old. If this girl didn’t want to keep her baby why did she only give her up after that time?’

Ginny doesn’t hesitate to respond. ‘Daniel had an answer for everything. He told me that once the baby was born the girl changed her mind but realised after six months she couldn’t cope.’

‘Do you know how that sounds? And you never thought to question him?’

‘I was just too desperate. Perhaps, deep down, I didn’t want to know too much. I’m so sorry.’

‘But how did you get away with it with doctors and hospitals? You would have had no paperwork for her and no evidence you’d given birth.’

‘Luckily Grace was a healthy baby and didn’t need much medical attention, but if she ever did need anything Daniel took care of it. I just assumed he was getting help from the young mum.’

‘You must see how appalling this is? It doesn’t matter
why
he did it, only that he did.’

Ginny shakes her head. ‘I know. I know. But please, can we just work together to find Grace? Then we can sort all this out. And if she is yours … well, I want to do the right thing.’

A mixture of anger and sadness threatens to overwhelm me but I have to put my feelings on hold. There are a million things I want to do: shout, scream, punch Ginny. But none of them will help us find Grace. I now know she is almost certainly Helena, but at the moment, perhaps because I’m in Ginny’s presence, I can’t help but think of her as Grace. ‘Right,’ I say. ‘You need to tell me everything about Grace and where she could be. And Lucas too. I need to know everything about him. Could there be a connection? Is there any chance Grace is with him?’

Ginny stands up and begins pacing the room. ‘I don’t know. I doubt it. Why would she be?’

And now I have no choice but to tell her what Grace claimed Lucas did to her in his flat. Given the circumstances, she is in many ways more Ginny’s daughter than mine, so I need to speak carefully. I have to keep in mind how hurt this woman will be when she realises what Lucas, a man she trusted, tried to do to a daughter she’s only ever protected and loved.

She listens without interrupting and I see her shudder when I get to the part about Lucas attempting to rape Grace. ‘But he’s not dead,’ I say. ‘We checked the flat and there were no signs that there had ever been any sort of fight. Plus, we know from Hannah that Lucas is in France with another woman. So I have to ask – why do you think Grace might have lied about this? Because that’s what it looks like now, doesn’t it?’

Ginny pulls herself together to consider my question. ‘Since childhood, Grace has always been honest. You know exactly where you stand with her. In fact, I’d say she’s brutally honest, even if she thinks it’s something you might not want to hear. She doesn’t hesitate to tell me if I look awful in something I’m wearing.’ She smiles, and I imagine she is picturing a specific incident. But these should be
my
memories, not Ginny’s. ‘Since she moved out to go to university I don’t get to see as much of her. I know she’s meeting new people, spreading her wings, that’s natural, isn’t it? But I don’t believe she would make up such an awful story.’

I want to take Ginny’s word for this, but there are too many question marks around Grace’s claim. ‘What if she wanted to hurt you? For lying to her all these years? That’s got to have messed with her head, surely?’

Ginny rubs her chin. ‘Simone, tell me this. Did Grace strike you as being out for revenge?’

I think back to our conversations in the café and at my house. ‘No. She didn’t. It seemed like she just wanted to know the truth.’

‘Well, please just hang on to that. Let’s assume she is telling the truth. Lucas obviously isn’t the man I thought he was, so we have no idea what he’s capable of.’

‘Yes, we do,’ I say, and I tell her about Gabby and her claim that Lucas raped her.

Ginny’s face pales until she is almost the colour of paper and she finally stands still. ‘Come on, we have to go now,’ she says, leaning down to me.

‘Where?’

‘To my brother’s house. I haven’t had the heart to go there since he died, but I’ve got the keys and we might find something.’

I don’t know what she’s expecting, or hoping, to find, but I don’t argue. I have no better ideas and we need to find Grace. Before it is too late.

D
aniel’s house
is in Hayes, and it is nearly an hour before we turn onto his road. It’s still fairly early so the traffic has been quiet, but Ginny drove slowly, despite the urgency of our situation. I would have preferred to drive us here in my own car, but my petrol is low, and Ginny didn’t want to waste time filling up the tank.

We pull up outside an ugly mid-terraced house, and I silently compare it to Lucas’s house in Notting Hill. The grey stone walls are dirty, and the flat roof makes it impossible to believe it is a home. I wonder how two such close friends could have lived such different lives, until I remember that they may not have been so different after all. Both of them have shown they are capable of carrying out horrendous acts.

‘It’s weird to think the last time I was here he was alive,’ Ginny says, switching off the engine. ‘This won’t be easy. But if there’s anything in there that will help us find out what’s happened to Grace …’

She trails off and I imagine her mind is exploring all sorts of scenarios – none of them pleasant – just as mine has done all the way here. ‘Let’s just focus on that,’ I say, offering her a thin smile. For now I have to put on hold any negative thoughts I hold towards this woman. Grace is the only one that matters, and we need to do whatever it takes to find her.

The sun is only just beginning to rise, so the street is gloomy and deserted as we leave the warmth of the car and cross the road to Daniel’s house.

‘I’m expecting to find a mess,’ Ginny says, slotting her key in the door.

And she is right. As soon as the door opens the stale stench of neglect assaults us, and Ginny bends down to scoop up the mail that has piled up on the floor. I hold my breath as I follow her in. Once I’ve become accustomed to the smell, I consider how strange it is that only days ago I was searching Ginny’s house with Abbot, and now I’m doing the same at her brother’s.

‘He lived alone then?’ I ask, already reaching that conclusion.

‘Yeah,’ she says, fumbling along the wall for the light. Then she tells me that he was married for a few years but they recently separated. ‘Actually, his ex was supposed to come here after he died and get the place sorted because half her things are still here, but she hasn’t bothered yet. I suppose that’s lucky for us, though.’

I tell Ginny we should look for his computer or phone. Anything which might show contact with Lucas. Anything that might tell us the truth about Grace and lead us to her.

Suddenly I feel out of my depth here. It was one thing looking for Lucas with Abbot, but another to be with a stranger, whom I still don’t know I can trust. I fight the urge to call him, instead forcing myself to focus on what we’re doing. ‘Let’s start in the kitchen and search together.’ I don’t add that there is no way I am letting her out of my sight.

To my surprise, the kitchen is not too squalid. There are three tea-stained mugs by the sink, and a half-finished loaf of mouldy bread on the worktop, but other than that it’s cleaner than some kitchens I’ve been in where the owners don’t have the excuse of being dead to account for their messiness.

A heavy coat hangs over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and Ginny must spot it the moment I do because she heads over to it and rummages in the pockets. ‘Nothing,’ she says, pulling her hands out.

‘So who arranged his funeral clothes?’ I say. Both my parents are still alive so I have little experience of death, but I am quite sure it is up to the next of kin to pick clothes for their loved one to be buried in.

‘Lucas took care of all that. I was too distraught.’ A look I can’t read flashes across her face and she quickly changes the subject. ‘Can you help me check all the cupboards and drawers? I have no idea what Daniel kept anywhere – I didn’t usually come here. He was always at my place instead. Said it felt more homely.’ She looks around. ‘You can see why he didn’t want to spend much time here.’

The kitchen turns up nothing helpful and neither does the living room. It is clear how little time Daniel spent here, and I wonder what he was so busy doing when he wasn’t with his sister.

‘Did he work?’ I ask, as we head upstairs.

Ginny’s face brightens. ‘He was a taxi driver. He lost interest in university after the first couple of years and left before he got his degree. But he loved driving, said it gave him freedom no other job could. Plus more money than people might imagine.’

Her eyes are filled with sadness once more so I remind her what he has done, why we are here.

‘I know,’ she says. ‘But I’m still hoping I’m wrong about this; that he was telling the truth about how Grace came to be mine. I mean, how do we know Lucas wasn’t lying to Grace?’

I feel like shaking her. ‘Why would he do that to Daniel if they were such good friends?’

She has no reply to that, but this time the tears come hard and fast. ‘Let’s just remember why we’re here.’

The bedroom is quite nicely decorated, and I am surprised to see plump and colourful cushions neatly arranged on the bed. Seeing my shock, Ginny tells me that this is how Daniel’s ex-wife arranged everything. ‘He was just too lazy to make any changes after she left,’ she adds.

Something on the bedside table catches my eye. ‘Is that Daniel’s phone?’ I ask, walking across to it. I pick it up and study it. It’s an HTC phone and I hold it up to show Ginny.

She takes it from me and examines each side of it. ‘I think so, but the battery must be dead. Is there a charger anywhere?’

I open the bedside table drawer and see we are in luck. The phone charger is here.

‘Let’s take that downstairs with us,’ Ginny suggests. ‘But we need to finish checking up here first. After this there’s only one more room but that won’t take long to check. It’s got nothing in it but a sofa bed. And I doubt the bathroom will turn up anything useful.’

I stand and watch while Ginny checks the wardrobe, rummaging through her brother’s clothes, but finding nothing useful. Several times I open my mouth to ask again what she hopes to find in his pockets, but I leave her to it. At least we’ve got his phone. If there is anything at all useful we will find it on there.

When Ginny checks the bathroom, I stand in the hallway and think of Grace. I picture her walking up these stairs, standing in the spot I stand in now. She is bound to have visited her uncle’s house before.

She is my daughter, I am more convinced of that than I have been since I met her, and now I am even more desperate to find her. I have no idea how it will work out – Ginny clearly loves her – but I will deal with that when we find her.

Ginny joins me and shakes her head. ‘Nothing. Let’s go down and charge this phone.’

Being in the kitchen reminds me how hungry I am, but there is nothing to eat here, and I wouldn’t risk it if there were.

Ginny plugs in the phone and stares at the screen as it comes to life. ‘Do you know how to work these phones?’ she asks, her face reddening. ‘I’m used to my BlackBerry so don’t have a clue about any other makes.’

‘Some people at work have them, so I can have a good guess,’ I say, thinking of Abbot and how much he loves his HTC. ‘I just hope it’s not password protected.’

While I fiddle around with the phone, I ask Ginny where Daniel’s computer is.

‘That’s a good point. He does have a laptop, but it’s not here, is it? I wonder if Christine did come after all and she’s taken it. I know it was an expensive one.’

‘Here we are,’ I say, as I get straight into the phone without being asked for a password. I start tapping icons and I am straight into Daniel’s message inbox. ‘Why wouldn’t he security-protect it?’ I say.

‘Probably laziness,’ she says. ‘He wouldn’t have wanted the bother of having to type it in every time he wanted to check his phone.’

This is the second time Ginny has described her brother as lazy, and I find it odd. A man who would go to so much trouble to give his sister the baby she was desperate for is anything but lazy.

Ginny joins me and we both lean on the worktop, staring at the device. ‘And it was never out of his sight,’ she says. ‘He was always on the damn thing, I used to have such a go at him about it. He’d come for dinner with us and wouldn’t say a word, but he’d be engrossed in something or other on there.’

Grateful that Matt is nothing like this with his phone, I check Daniel’s message inbox and scroll through his texts. None seem suspicious and I don’t recognise any names other than Ginny’s. Next I check the emails, but there are none to Grace, Lucas or even Ginny. The only ones he has saved seem to be online purchases.

The final thing I can check is his photo album, and it takes me a minute to work out how to get to it. When I do, there are only a few photos on there, all of a dark haired woman.