The Moment She Left (20 page)

‘Yes, and Rowzee says she will, but I don’t think it’s happened yet.’ He glanced back inside as he said, ‘I’ve always worried about her. So has Pamela, mainly because she always seems to need protecting, though I’d never tell her that. She wouldn’t like it one bit, she likes to consider herself completely capable and fiercely independent, which she is, of course, but there’s no getting away from the fact that she’s very trusting, and that’s not always a good thing. Victor was the same. A sweeter, more generous and loving couple you’d never find anywhere, but being that way hasn’t always served them well. A good example of that is Victor getting into his car to go and see a complete stranger who calls him up out of the blue claiming to be his son. If he hadn’t been so trusting he wouldn’t have ended up being beaten half to death.’ He shook his head as though still trying to absorb it. ‘You have to wonder what was going through their minds back then – and since. I mean, imagine not telling anyone the truth, or feeling ashamed of it, as if that dreadful attack were in some way Victor’s fault.’

‘I’m sure Rowzee didn’t think that.’

‘You’re right, I’m sure she didn’t, but being the way she is she’d have found a way to pity this lowlife – I’m
sorry, even if he’s Victor’s son, if you’d seen what he did to him . . .’ He took a breath. ‘It would be Rowzee’s way to try to understand him, rather than report him to the police. She misses her own son so much, is still grieving for him in her way, so she probably saw this Griffiths fellow as someone who could replace him.’

Easily able to believe that, given the tortured workings of a bereaved mother’s mind, Andee said, ‘Do you believe that he never came to see them again after?’

His eyes came to hers. ‘Do you?’

‘I’m not sure. Rowzee said he made some abusive calls, but I can’t help wondering if they tried to reach out in some way and . . .’

‘And what?’

She didn’t know. ‘I just have a feeling there’s more, and maybe even Rowzee doesn’t know what it is. Do you think Victor always told her everything?’

‘My instinct is to say yes; however, if he thought something would hurt or frighten her, I’m sure he’d have kept that back. Unless, of course, she needed to know for her own safety.’

Andee nodded slowly. ‘I guess we might find out more on Friday,’ she said, ‘if there is any more to find out.’

Graeme looked up and waved as Bill Simmonds drove out of the estate in his truck. ‘So, you’re going to see Jenny Leonard?’ he said, seeming relieved to change the subject.

‘I thought I should. Tell me, if she and Blake were as close as everyone says they were, why do you think she’s avoiding him now? And her son, who presumably means as much to her as Jessica does.’

Looking surprised, and baffled, he said, ‘Is she avoiding them? I guess you could see it that way, but I’m more inclined to think that she simply couldn’t cope and has gone home to her mother.’

Accepting that, since she’d done the very same at a time of crisis in her own life, Andee said, ‘The missing link in this case, as we’ve known all along, is the person who made the call as Jessica went into the station.’

‘Kim Yoder.’

‘That’s him.’

‘Or her?’

‘Indeed, or her, and of course we can be pretty certain that it’s not a real name. The question is, did he or she use it for anything else? Obviously it’s a question that was asked at the time, and all attempts were made to answer it – at least, we think all attempts.’ Curious, he waited for her to continue.

‘I’ve asked for some information from London that I hope is going to prove, or disprove, an oversight in the investigation,’ she told him. ‘The fact that it’s taking so long to come through is concerning me. It could be that they’re shutting me out as they try to rectify the mistake – that’s the best-case scenario. The worst case – and this bothers me a lot – is that we’ve managed to stumble upon some kind of cover-up.’

‘Don’t worry, Dad, I’ve got it all worked out.’ Jessica’s deep brown eyes were shining with laughter – and secrecy and something else Blake couldn’t quite define. She was growing up too fast, getting away from him in ways that worried and
saddened him, but also made him proud of her independence and brave young spirit.

He looked at Jenny, who appeared as secretive and amused as their daughter. ‘Do you know what she’s talking about?’ he demanded, trying to sound fierce though he never quite managed to pull it off.

‘Of course not,’ she replied. ‘You’re the one she confides in, not me.’

Knowing that wasn’t true, at least not for everything, Blake turned to Matt. ‘Are you in on this?’ he wanted to know.

‘No way,’ Matt laughed, pushing back from the table to take his plate to the sink.

‘You’re up to no good,’ Blake accused Jessica with a menacing glower.

Laughing, she cried, ‘What’s “no good” about sorting things out for myself? I thought you’d be dead chuffed to know I was getting my act together.’

‘Well, that could happen if I knew how you were going to do it.’

Leaning forward so her nose was almost touching his, she said, ‘Think of your worst nightmares, and guess what, that won’t be it.’

‘Stop teasing him,’ Jenny chided. ‘You can see he’s worried.’

‘I don’t understand why.’

‘Because that’s what fathers do, worry about their daughters.’

‘Are you worried?’ Jessica wanted to know.

‘Not today,’ Jenny replied. ‘Ask me again tomorrow and I might be.’

‘Oh God, you’re not going to go all silent and weird on us again, are you?’

‘It’s not something I plan in advance. It just happens.’ Jenny’s soft hazel eyes went to Blake.

He said nothing, only reached for her hand and held it as he wondered by what alchemy did fantasies and insecurities occasionally blend in her mind to close her down. He’d read enough about depression to know that the problem was more chemical than emotional, but that didn’t make it any easier for them to deal with. He just wished there was more he could do; it made him feel so helpless and responsible when she disappeared inside herself and kept him shut out.

He was experiencing that same desperate frustration now as he explained to Jenny, on the phone, that Andee Lawrence would be coming to see her.

‘Why does she want to speak to me?’ she asked, her quiet voice falling softly into his ear. He’d never loved anyone – apart from their children – as much as he loved her. He’d never felt such a sense of closeness or understanding, or as much happiness as when they were together as a family and life was good. There’d been so little good since he’d been falsely accused at the school – and how much worse it had become since losing Jess.

‘She’s trying to help us find our girl,’ he told her.

When it seemed she had nothing to say he decided to change the subject for a while. ‘Matt played guitar at the Mermaid the other night,’ he said, trying to sound upbeat in spite of how traumatic it had been for them both when Matt had come home and Blake had held
him for hours as he’d sobbed with guilt and longing, and the same terrible frustration and helplessness that affected them all. ‘Ellie Sandworth sang,’ he continued. ‘You probably remember Ellie.’

Jenny was silent again, but not for long. ‘Were you there?’ she asked.

‘No.’

‘Why not? You always go.’

‘He didn’t want me to this time. I think he was afraid I’d get upset.’

‘Did he?’

‘Not in front of anyone. We sat up half the night talking when he got home.’

‘About Jessica?’

‘Of course. Surely it’s better than bottling it up.’

‘You mean the way I do? But letting it out doesn’t make it go away. It just fills you up all over again.’

She was right, of course; in fact there were times that talking about it made it feel even worse, for sharing memories had the power to bring Jess to them in a way that seemed so real that when they stopped the emptiness, the reality were insufferable.

‘Will you see Andee Lawrence?’ he asked, needing to be sure.

‘If that’s what you want.’

‘Isn’t it what you want, to carry on looking for her?’

After a beat she said, ‘Of course I want to find her, I’d do anything to make it happen, but at the same time I keep trying to give up hope. I think it would be easier if I could.’

Understanding her feelings, and in a way sharing them, he said, ‘I was remembering just now the time Jess told me not to worry about giving her an allowance. She said she had it all worked out. Do you know what she meant by that?’

‘I assumed she was planning to do more gigs. What did you think?’

‘The same, I suppose, but would it have been enough to cover all her expenses?’

‘You saw her bank statements. She was in London, remember? People pay more for their entertainment there, and she managed to get a lot of very exclusive events. They’ve all checked out. The police spoke to everyone; her earnings were legitimate.’

It was true, they were. Even so, he said, ‘But where did all the bookings suddenly come from?’

‘Where they always come from, word of mouth. People who were at other events. You know all this, so why are you asking?’

‘I’m not sure,’ he replied truthfully, for he hated allowing his mind to explore other avenues of suspicion. The police had checked all the sugar daddy websites, escort agencies and gentlemen’s clubs, and nothing had ever come up to show Jessica as a member, or even a one-time visitor. ‘Maybe it’s because I want to keep you on the line,’ he said softly.

She stayed silent, but he knew she was still there. He could feel the need for her building inside him, the love that made him strong, gave him purpose, trying to connect with her.

‘I miss you,’ he told her.

‘I miss you too.’

‘Then why won’t you come home?’

‘I want to, I just can’t right now.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe spending this time apart will help us both,’ and before he could say any more she rang off.

As he hung up Blake looked around the workshop, his eyes skimming over all the damaged and neglected goods. They seemed to be watching him, waiting for him to make them whole and worthy again. It was as though everything, everyone, needed him to put them back together, and he just wasn’t up to the task.

‘Is everything all right?’ Graeme asked, coming into the room.

Quickly pulling himself together, Blake assured him that it was.

Seeming uncertain, Graeme eyed him closely as he said, ‘Andee’s going to talk to Jenny on Friday?’

Blake nodded. ‘I didn’t know which day, but Friday should be fine. I’ll let Jenny know.’

Graeme said, ‘Have you spoken to Andee today?’

‘Only briefly, this morning. Apparently she still hasn’t heard anything from London.’

Graeme was about to say more when the phone rang and the shop door opened. ‘This could be the call I’m waiting for,’ he told Blake. ‘Do you mind finding out who’s just come in?’

Going through to the showroom, Blake closed the workshop door behind him and was surprised to see a
young girl with long, wavy blonde hair and very long legs looking awkwardly around.

‘Can I help you?’ he asked.

Though she started to speak she seemed unable to find any words. In the end, she said, ‘You’re Matt Leonard’s dad, aren’t you?’

Frowning, Blake said, ‘That’s right. Are you looking for him?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I came . . . I’m here to see Graeme Ogilvie.’

‘OK. He’s on the phone at the moment, but I’m sure he won’t be long if you’d like to wait.’

She took a step back. ‘No, no, it’s fine,’ she stammered. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ and pulling open the door she almost collided with an elderly woman who was on her way in.

By the time the passing tourist left with a fine fieravino vase Graeme was back in the shop checking emails on his laptop.

‘You had a visitor just now,’ Blake told him. ‘A young girl, late teens I’d say, long blonde hair . . .’

Graeme regarded him curiously. ‘Did you get a name?’

Blake shook his head. ‘She said she was here to see you, but then she decided not to wait.’

Baffled, Graeme returned to his computer. ‘I tried ringing Andee again a moment ago,’ he said, ‘she must have her phone turned off.’

Without really thinking, Blake said, ‘Are you worried?’

Clearly surprised, Graeme said, ‘You mean about Andee?’

Unsure what he’d meant, Blake excused himself and returned to the workshop. He didn’t make a habit of listening to gossip, but it was hard not to at times around here. This meant that he knew Andee had left her husband, and that the general consensus was that Graeme might be the reason. However, it wasn’t his place to comment on it, much less ask inane questions, so he’d be better off focusing on Andee’s fear that the police in London had either not carried out a full investigation, or they were covering something up.

Andee had been watching CCTV footage of Jessica exiting Notting Hill Gate station for so long now that her eyes were starting to blur. There was no doubt the girl had been in good spirits as she’d crossed the road towards Holland Park, but with no further footage showing where she’d gone from there it was impossible to say whether she’d entered a house or apartment, gone into a shop, or maybe she’d got into a car.

This video had arrived from London that morning, presumably in answer to Kesterly CID’s request for more information on the transient resident search, which was disingenuous to say the least, since there was nothing new in the footage and not a word had been mentioned about rental agents.

After leaving the tech suite she went to talk to DI Gould about putting more pressure on the Met to give them what they were asking for, and an hour later she was at her flat on the seafront holding her own teenage daughter in her arms – though Jessica of course would be twenty-one by now. Had she been able to celebrate,
wherever she was? Or had she never actually reached that glorious age?

‘I know I shouldn’t have,’ Alayna sobbed, ‘but I went to see him.’