up as many sodden tissues as I could in one swoop, stuffed them into the kitchen tidy and headed for the front door.
Ally’s life depended on my ability to tamp down my anger and lie to the police..
After the two officers left, I shut the door and leaned against it, exhausted. Had I pulled it off? The woman detective’s eyes were everywhere.
Secrets. The police deal with secrets every day of the week. God help me, if those two even suspected something so terrible had happened that I want to sit on the floor and scream like the madwoman I have become. They were just waiting for me to fall into their trap.
Needing to keep busy, I started cleaning the bathroom; Pam had always been messy. As I wiped the toothpaste and soap scum off the side of the basin and binned the make-up-splattered tissues scattered on the vanity top, I realised nothing had changed. The cat’s litter tray was first out and then I settled in to clean the room. Every breath I took, every swirl of the scrubber, was a blow delivered to the faceless thugs who had my child. Long before I got to the end of my task, I had broken the handle of the brush. It was even more satisfying to grind the steel wool into the tiles, stand-ins for evil flesh. By the time it was finished, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted.
For nearly an hour the police had watched my every move. I forced myself to behave naturally without revealing our appalling predicament by so much as a blink. I almost lost it once when they asked about Ally’s father, but I think I fooled them. The question as they were about to leave totally threw me. And what possible relevance could my origins have on Ally’s disappearance, unless they were thinking of someone from our past? No, that was ridiculous.
As soon as they left, I’d rushed to telephone James. ‘Please please, God…let it be okay,’ I begged.
His answering service picked up. I put the number in, cursing as the rotten thing kept trotting out its mechanical message. Perhaps he was still at the bank? Yes, of course, there would be forms to sign. Maybe he was at his stockbrokers? No, he could do that over the phone or online.
I finished cleaning the bathroom, washed up and made a sandwich which I left drying on the plate. The weather outside looked chilly, the bleakness of the park landscape opposite Pam’s flat enhanced by wind-tossed trees. Perhaps a hot shower would warm me, but of course Murphy’s Law struck just as I stepped under the water. The phone rang.
‘Eloise?’ James spoke very quietly, ‘I’ve finished at the bank and it’s not good news.’
‘Oh no, what’s happened?’ I shivered, not only because I was wrapped in a towel with water dripping everywhere.
‘Look, I need to tell you in person. You’d better come over here, so we can talk in private.’ He sounded drained.
I looked at the clock. Midday. ‘All right, but—’
‘The car’s out now but the driver can do a detour and pick you up in say, half an hour?’
It took all of the time allotted to me to finish showering, dress and leave a note for Pam. I raced down the path and dove into the car, thanking God that James could and was prepared to pay the demand.
As before, he met me at the bottom of the steps but my reception was vastly different. He rushed me up the stairs and into his study where the dog, who seemed to be a permanent resident of the room, stood up and wagged a courtly welcome. I gave him an absented minded pat, as James waved me to an armchair.
‘Eloise, it’s not good news. I can’t get huge sums just like that. There are regulations about these things, permissions to be sought from departments who deal with large sums of money. I can get four hundred thousand available by tomorrow afternoon and that will have to be approved by the relevant authorities. I made up a story about attending a house auction and wanting to pay cash. Thank God I wasn’t asked for the details. There’s a Significant Transactions Report which
Ally’s life depended on my ability to tamp down my anger and lie to the police..
After the two officers left, I shut the door and leaned against it, exhausted. Had I pulled it off? The woman detective’s eyes were everywhere.
Secrets. The police deal with secrets every day of the week. God help me, if those two even suspected something so terrible had happened that I want to sit on the floor and scream like the madwoman I have become. They were just waiting for me to fall into their trap.
Needing to keep busy, I started cleaning the bathroom; Pam had always been messy. As I wiped the toothpaste and soap scum off the side of the basin and binned the make-up-splattered tissues scattered on the vanity top, I realised nothing had changed. The cat’s litter tray was first out and then I settled in to clean the room. Every breath I took, every swirl of the scrubber, was a blow delivered to the faceless thugs who had my child. Long before I got to the end of my task, I had broken the handle of the brush. It was even more satisfying to grind the steel wool into the tiles, stand-ins for evil flesh. By the time it was finished, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted.
For nearly an hour the police had watched my every move. I forced myself to behave naturally without revealing our appalling predicament by so much as a blink. I almost lost it once when they asked about Ally’s father, but I think I fooled them. The question as they were about to leave totally threw me. And what possible relevance could my origins have on Ally’s disappearance, unless they were thinking of someone from our past? No, that was ridiculous.
As soon as they left, I’d rushed to telephone James. ‘Please please, God…let it be okay,’ I begged.
His answering service picked up. I put the number in, cursing as the rotten thing kept trotting out its mechanical message. Perhaps he was still at the bank? Yes, of course, there would be forms to sign. Maybe he was at his stockbrokers? No, he could do that over the phone or online.
I finished cleaning the bathroom, washed up and made a sandwich which I left drying on the plate. The weather outside looked chilly, the bleakness of the park landscape opposite Pam’s flat enhanced by wind-tossed trees. Perhaps a hot shower would warm me, but of course Murphy’s Law struck just as I stepped under the water. The phone rang.
‘Eloise?’ James spoke very quietly, ‘I’ve finished at the bank and it’s not good news.’
‘Oh no, what’s happened?’ I shivered, not only because I was wrapped in a towel with water dripping everywhere.
‘Look, I need to tell you in person. You’d better come over here, so we can talk in private.’ He sounded drained.
I looked at the clock. Midday. ‘All right, but—’
‘The car’s out now but the driver can do a detour and pick you up in say, half an hour?’
It took all of the time allotted to me to finish showering, dress and leave a note for Pam. I raced down the path and dove into the car, thanking God that James could and was prepared to pay the demand.
As before, he met me at the bottom of the steps but my reception was vastly different. He rushed me up the stairs and into his study where the dog, who seemed to be a permanent resident of the room, stood up and wagged a courtly welcome. I gave him an absented minded pat, as James waved me to an armchair.
‘Eloise, it’s not good news. I can’t get huge sums just like that. There are regulations about these things, permissions to be sought from departments who deal with large sums of money. I can get four hundred thousand available by tomorrow afternoon and that will have to be approved by the relevant authorities. I made up a story about attending a house auction and wanting to pay cash. Thank God I wasn’t asked for the details. There’s a Significant Transactions Report which
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