Lost Child: A Gripping Psychological Thriller Read online

  Chapter Fourteen

  After fixing a simple pasta dish for dinner, I opened a bottle of red wine for us to drink with the meal and ease our frayed nerves. After the day we’d had, we needed it. Mum’s gaze kept flickering over to the telephone, but the phone remained stubbornly silent. There had been no fresh news about Jenna, and waiting for answers was excruciating. The wave of hope I’d felt when the photograph of Jenna had appeared on my phone hadn’t left me, but the initial excitement had given way to an unbearable tension as we waited to find out what the next step was going to be.

  I’d hoped the police would have found Jenna by now, and we would be attempting some sort of reconnection. Even if everything worked out, and Jenna came home, it wouldn’t be easy for Jenna to readjust. Would she even remember us?

  Could I remember anything from when I was three years old? Not really. Some dim and distant images hovered at the edge of my memory— playing with a red tricycle in the garden, watching Kate climb the apple tree. Those memories were probably from when I was a year or so older than Jenna had been when she went missing.

  If we got her back, it would be a difficult adjustment period for everyone. I couldn’t even imagine how we would cope if this all turned out to be an elaborate hoax. I pushed away the negative thoughts, not wanting to consider the possibility Jenna wouldn’t be coming home.

  Neither of us was very hungry, and Mum only picked at her dinner, which only added to my concern. I was determined to take better care of her now that I was back home and make amends for my actions two years ago.

  She was trying to be positive, but despite her best efforts, she couldn’t hide her loss of appetite. It probably didn’t help that we sat at the kitchen table, so close to the telephone, which kept reminding us there was still no news. Detective Sergeant Leanne Parker had said she would get back to us tomorrow, but that didn’t stop me hoping they would, by some miracle, find Jenna before then.

  “Have you spoken to Daniel this evening?” I asked.

  Mum put down her glass of wine and shook her head. “No, I thought he could do with some space. He was really upset by the photograph.”

  I stabbed a spiral of pasta and moved it around the plate, coating it with some of the tomato sauce. “I thought I’d go into Oxford tomorrow and get a new phone,” I said. “I ordered a sim card online, and it’s going to be delivered tomorrow. Will you be home?”

  “Yes, we were supposed to be having a coffee morning in aid of the church, but I don’t feel up to it. Besides, I want to be here in case the police call.”

  “They have your mobile number, though, don’t they?”

  “Yes, but it’s not the type of call I want to take in public.”

  I could understand that.

  She rubbed her eyes and smothered a yawn. “I think I’ll watch some mindless television and have an early night tonight, Beth. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Of course not. It’s been a stressful day.”

  The emotion of the day had left me drained, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty. Waiting for answers was hard, but I should be feeling positive. I pushed my plate away and raised an eyebrow at Mum. “Finished?”

  She nodded and lifted her plate, preparing to carry it to the sink.

  “Leave it. I’ll do that. You go and relax.”

  She smiled and patted my shoulder before heading off to the small sitting room. It had always been her refuge. When my father was alive, it had been their private sitting room — a room free from children and the associated mess and chaos. In the years after my father died, it had been her personal space, somewhere to retreat and get away from Kate, Daniel and Jenna when she needed some time alone.

  I spent more time than necessary clearing up after dinner. There were only two pans, a saucepan I had used to boil the pasta, and a frying pan I’d used to fry up some garlic and onion before adding the tomatoes for the sauce. I scrubbed them carefully before washing our plates.

  There was a dishwasher, but I washed and dried everything by hand before wiping down the kitchen counters. No doubt, I would find it difficult to sleep tonight and was in no rush to go to bed and be alone with my thoughts. Somehow, keeping busy with boring domestic tasks helped.

  After I had said goodnight to Mum, I did everything possible to prepare for a good night’s sleep, making myself a hot chocolate after soaking in a warm lavender-scented bath. Despite my best efforts, I lay awake beneath the cool, white sheets, staring up at the familiar swirls and patterns on the ceiling of my childhood bedroom. The memories were so numerous and strong here, it was impossible to banish them.

  It had been easier in Dubai. Everything was fresh and new there, and nobody knew who I was. Here, everyone knew Jenna was missing and how Kate had taken her own life.

  After miserably lying awake for an hour, I slipped out of bed and grabbed my handbag from the dressing table. In one of the sections of my purse, was a photograph I’d had printed after Kate had taken her own life. No one seemed to bother to print photographs anymore to make physical albums. Photographs were shared on Facebook or kept on phones. As my fingers closed around the glossy print, I smiled. There was something nice about a good old-fashioned photograph.

  I sat back down, perching on the edge of the bed, and stared down at the photograph. It had been taken only a few months before Jenna disappeared. Jenna sat on Kate’s lap, and they were both smiling. It was really only when Jenna smiled that you could see the similarity between her and Kate. Kate had dark hair whereas Jenna was very fair-haired and fair-skinned. But there was no doubt that Jenna had inherited Kate’s smile. That broad, dazzling grin lit up their whole face. I would give anything to see them smile again.

  I wondered how Kate would feel if she was still with us. Would she have handled things differently? Had I really tried hard enough to trace the number on my own before going to the police? I shuddered at the thought that whoever had taken Jenna may have unsuccessfully tried to contact me again. I couldn’t get any more messages because the police had my phone.

  But it was thoughts similar to these that had got me into trouble before. The police had the resources to track Jenna. They could do a better job than I ever could, and my own fumbling investigations would probably hinder rather than help the search for Jenna. I should have learnt that by now.

  I put the photograph on the nightstand and then slid back under the sheets. It was silly, but with Kate’s photograph beside me, I thought I might find it easier to sleep.

  It didn’t work. I was awake for hours and only just drifted off shortly before dawn. I’d never been good with a lack of sleep and woke up the next morning feeling wrung out and grouchy. I had a dull ache at the base of my skull, which was promising to turn into a killer headache. Pressing a hand to my forehead, I blinked. I wasn’t wearing a watch and had no idea what the time was. I could tell by the way the sun was blaring in through the thin, cotton curtains that I’d slept later than usual. That didn’t make any sense. I should have woken up early. After all, my body clock was still on Dubai time.

  I shoved back the sheets and swung my legs out of bed, rubbing my bleary eyes. I padded towards the door and opened it. The delicious smell of coffee drifted towards me.

  “Morning,” I said to Mum and tried to smile as I walked into the kitchen.

  She was standing beside the sink and looked at me over her shoulder. “You look like you got about as much sleep as I did.”

  “I probably only got a couple of hours.”

  I glanced at the antique clock on the kitchen wall and saw that it was just after nine AM. I really had slept in.

  “Were you too warm? Or was the bed uncomfortable? It’s getting on a bit now. We’ve had it for years, haven’t we?”

  Mum put a large mug of coffee on the table for me, and I quickly picked it up and breathed in the delicious scent. “It wasn’t the bed’s fault. It’s comfortable enough. I just couldn’t stop my mind turning things over, you know?”

  Mum sighed and nodded. �
��I hope today will bring us some good news. I’m going to call Daniel in a little while and see how he is bearing up.”

  I blew over the top of my coffee, and then not wanting to wait for my shot of caffeine, I took a quick sip of the hot liquid, burning my tongue.

  “Are you still going to Oxford today?” Mum asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, unless we get any news from the police before then. I feel lost without my phone. Is there anything you need me to pick up for you?”

  “Not really. Although, we’re getting a little low on milk. You might want to pick some up on your way home.”

  I nodded and took another sip of the still too hot coffee. Mum was already impeccably dressed. Her short grey hair was carefully styled, and she’d applied her usual light layer of makeup. Despite that, she still looked pale and drawn.

  “What time did you say that phone thingy was coming?” she asked.

  “The sim card? I’m not sure. They said it would be delivered today but didn’t give me a time.”

  Mum was moving about the kitchen as she spoke, as though she didn’t want to pause for a moment and give herself time to think. “That’s fine,” she said. “I hadn’t planned to do anything today anyway.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. I suppose I’d better get in the shower and get dressed.” I pushed up from the table and picked up my half-full mug of coffee.

  Mum picked up a towel to dry her hands and then she turned to face me. “How long will you be in Oxford?”

  “I’ll get the bus in, but I’ll be as quick as possible because no one will be able to get in touch with me if there are any developments until I get a new phone and SIM card.”

  Mum moved closer to me and pushed my hair back from my forehead. “I’m very glad you’ve come back home, Beth. Whatever happens, you can talk to me.”

  I hesitated before nodding. She meant she wanted me to talk to her before I went off the deep end again.

  “You don’t have to worry,” I said. “When Jenna went missing and then Kate… I know I lost it a little. But I won’t do it again.”

  Her shrewd hazel eyes fixed on mine, and I wondered if she believed me.

  I left the kitchen to go to the shower room, which was on the ground floor. There was a further en suite bathroom upstairs, which had been recently fitted out with a large bath and a walk-in shower. The shower room downstairs had seen better days and needed updating. It hadn’t changed since Kate and I shared it in our teens.

  The shower was in a small glass cubicle, and I had forgotten just how small it was. My elbows knocked against the glass as I reached up to shampoo my hair. I had just started to rinse out the suds when I heard the phone ring.

  Was that the police? Did they have news on Jenna?

  I wiped the soap out of my eyes and scrambled to turn off the shower. Flinging open the door of the cubicle, I grabbed a towel. Dripping wet, I shoved open the bathroom door and ran down the hallway with slippery, wet feet.

  Mum had answered the phone, and I was convinced by the rigid way she stood that it had to be the police. She turned around and nodded when she heard me behind her but didn’t say anything. She was focused on listening to the person on the other end of the phone.

  I stood there shivering and waiting.

  “So you’re telling me there have been no developments?” Mum said, her tone sharp. “Despite the fact you have the message and the phone number, you haven’t been able to trace whoever sent it?”

  I couldn’t hear what the officer said on the other end of the line, but from Mum’s expression, I guessed it wasn’t very encouraging.

  Mum closed her eyes briefly and let out an exasperated sigh. “No, of course, I don’t have any concerns about that,” she snapped.

  What concerns? Were they asking her if she was concerned about me? Did they think I’d doctored the photo because I was so desperate for them to keep looking for Jenna? Surely not. I was overreacting.

  “Well, I’m not sure that is good enough. If you haven’t made any progress then maybe we need to release this to the press and find out—”

  Mum stopped talking, and I imagined the officer on the other end of the line was trying to talk her out of contacting any journalists.

  I had no love for the press after our last experience, but if the police weren’t getting results, maybe some articles and news items on television would get some leads from the public.

  After another minute or so, Mum put down the phone and shook her head as she looked at me. “As you must have guessed, that was Detective Sergeant Leanne Parker. They’re no closer to finding Jenna. They can’t even trace the phone number. I don’t understand it. In this day and age, surely that’s something they should be able to do in seconds.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I was just as disappointed and irritated at the lack of progress.

  Mum sighed and turned round to pick up the phone again. “I better give Daniel a ring. The sergeant said she’d already spoken to him this morning, so I’ll see if they’ve told him anything different.”

  I nodded and turned around, heading back to the bathroom. My eyes were stinging from the shampoo I hadn’t washed out properly. I got back in the shower to rinse out the shampoo and then realised I hadn’t brought any conditioner with me. I towel dried my hair and tried not to tangle it too much, but it still took me about five minutes to brush it through, thanks to the lack of conditioner.

  I’d been in such a rush to leave Dubai, I hadn’t even packed my hairdryer, so I nipped upstairs to Mum’s room to use hers. It was warmer upstairs, and the sunlight streamed through the Velux windows. The hairdryer was on her dressing table, so rather than unplug it and take it downstairs, I sat at the dressing table and dried my hair looking into Mum’s magnifying mirror.

  I barely recognised myself. The stress had given my face a pinched expression. I turned away quickly from the mirror and concentrated on drying my hair.

  Once I was finished, I went downstairs and called out to Mum, telling her I was going to use the computer again. I wasn’t expecting any new emails, but I did want to check the plant ID forum, just in case.

  It didn’t take me long to log in and realise that I’d been holding out false hope. One person had liked my post, but no one had replied. With a huff of impatience, I logged out and shut down the computer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As soon as I stepped out of the front door, I regretted the decision to go to Oxford. I would be uncontactable if anything happened. Attempting to push my worries away, I walked down the garden path and out through the gate. When had phones become so vital to our day-to-day existence? I felt naked without mine.

  I walked quickly to the bus stop outside the Marlborough Arms, and the bus rumbled into view seconds after I reached the bus stop. A man, wearing a tweed coat and shiny brown shoes, who’d been waiting for the bus looked at me disapprovingly. “You’re lucky the bus is two minutes late. If it had been on time, you would have missed it.”

  I smiled politely instead of telling him to mind his own business, which was what I really wanted to do.

  The bus was busy, and as I walked down the aisle towards an empty seat, I spotted Dawn Parsons. I quickly looked away, but I wasn’t fast enough. She had seen me, and worse than that, she knew I had seen her, too.

  I walked past Dawn, keeping my gaze on the floor.

  Please, don’t let her talk to me.

  I sat down in a seat as far away from Dawn as possible beside a young girl with bleached blonde hair and white earbuds in her ears. The sound of the bus pulling away was loud, but I could still hear the tinny music blaring out of the girl’s headphones.

  Despite my best intentions, I couldn’t ignore Dawn. My gaze seemed to be magnetically drawn to the back of her head. She was even bigger than she used to be — definitely wider.

  Despite the fact it was late May, and the weather was fine today, Dawn wore a purple wool coat, which strained across her shoulders. She had to be a good six inches taller than the woman in th
e seat beside her.

  Her dark hair had been pulled back off her face, and she wore no make-up to hide her blotchy complexion. In all the years I’d known her, I don’t think I’d ever seen Dawn wear makeup.

  I chewed on the edge of my fingernail nervously. I had told Mrs Parsons I would try and find time to talk to Dawn. Now I had the perfect opportunity. I didn’t have anything else to do. I didn’t even have my phone to fiddle with and pretend to be busy, so nothing was stopping me slipping into the spare seat behind her and striking up a conversation. Nothing except the fact she made my skin crawl. Dawn turned her head, and I quickly looked down at the floor, my hands clasped in my lap. Would I really ignore her if she spoke to me? Should I apologise?

  She probably did deserve an apology. After all, she hadn’t done any of the things I’d accused her of doing. That didn’t mean I had to like her, though. The police had determined she’d had nothing to do with Jenna’s disappearance, but being near Dawn Parsons made me feel on edge. I didn’t want to be anywhere near her.

  I forced myself to look away and stare out of the bus window. It was bright and sunny outside, but the bus windows were coated with a layer of grime, which made it hard to enjoy the scenery. The bus passed through a number of small villages and then finally pulled onto the Peartree roundabout, where we were stuck in traffic for a good ten minutes.

  By the time we got to Oxford, everyone was impatient and eager to disembark. The bus pulled into the bus station, and the girl beside me grabbed up her bag and twisted in her seat to make it quite clear she expected me to stand up and get off of the bus quickly. But I pretended to rummage in my handbag, buying time. I wanted Dawn to get off the bus ahead of me, so I could get off and go in the opposite direction.