Ellen Devonport was struggling to get comfortable on the sofa bed in the living room. She was used to a king-size bed, a memory-foam mattress and a hunky paramedic to snuggle up to. A rickety aluminium frame that squeaked every time she turned over and a mattress the thickness of a cream cracker was not ideal for a good night’s sleep. It didn’t help that she could hear Riley wailing in the next room.
She wondered why nobody got up to tend to him, or were they supposed to leave him in the hope he’d tire himself out and fall asleep? She turned over, put the thin pillow over her head and closed her eyes. It was going to be a long night.
A noise woke her up. She wasn’t fully asleep, but the sound of a door opening and closing made her sit up. She looked at the time on her phone: it was a little after three o’clock. She sat in silence and listened intently. Riley had fallen asleep. But there was something else, too. Somebody was moving around downstairs.
It was only natural that the family wouldn’t be able to sleep. They’d be worried sick about where Keeley was, what had happened to her, and who had taken her. Maybe Linda or Craig had got up to make a drink. They might appreciate a stranger to talk to, a friendly shoulder to cry on.
Ellen pushed back the duvet. She felt the cool night on her bare legs. She pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and slipped her feet into the slippers she’d brought with her. She put a sweater on over her T-shirt and crept out of the room.
The kitchen was in darkness. She didn’t turn on the light and tried not to make a sound. She hoped Riley was a heavy sleeper and didn’t want to wake him up in case he didn’t go back to sleep and spent the next few hours crying out.
The dining room and kitchen had once been two separate rooms but had clearly been remodelled to accommodate Riley and his wheelchair. The sound of whoever was up was coming from around the dining area. Ellen carefully walked through the kitchen and flicked on the light.
Linda jumped. ‘Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,’ she said in a loud whisper. She was bent over the dresser, rummaging through the drawers.
‘I’m sorry. I heard movement. I thought someone might be up and want to talk.’
‘No. I’m fine,’ she said, turning back to the open drawers.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Just looking for something.’
‘Can I help?’
‘No.’
‘Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?’
‘No. Ah, here it is.’ She pulled a folder out of the drawer and sat down at the dining table. ‘Can you pass me a pad and pen from the top drawer in the kitchen? It’s the drawer under the kettle.’
Ellen obliged. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m wondering how we can raise the fifty thousand pounds for the kidnappers. We’ve got three thousand in the holiday account and just under four thousand in a savings account. Craig did a sponsored run a few weeks ago. He raised over a grand. That’s about eight thousand.’ Linda’s eyes were wide and staring. She wrote quickly on the pad with a shaking hand. She was frantically flicking through the folder of bank statements. ‘There’s two grand in the current account, that’s ten. See, it is doable.’
Ellen pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Linda, stop. You need to go to bed and get some sleep.’
‘I can’t sleep. I need to be doing something,’ she tucked her greasy hair behind her ears. ‘We could sell something.’ She looked at her hand. ‘Craig’s grandmother gave him this wedding ring to give me. It’s an antique. What do you think it’s worth?’ She held out her hand to Ellen. ‘Do you know much about jewellery?’
‘Erm, no. Perhaps I should go and get Craig.’
‘It’s got to be worth a couple of thousand, at least,’ she said, ignoring Ellen. ‘I’ll put down fifteen hundred to be on the safe side and anything extra is a bonus.’
Ellen got up from the table and edged out of the dining room.
‘Now, what else have I got? My mum gave me a necklace for my twenty-first. It’s not old but it’s real gold. We might get a couple of hundred for it. Where are those premium bond certificates?’ She said, pulling sheets of paper out of the folder and scattering them around the table.
‘Linda, what are you doing?’ Craig asked. He stood in the entrance to the dining room wearing a black T-shirt with a tatty dressing gown hanging off his shoulders.
‘Craig, how new is your van? What do you think you’d get for it in a quick sale?’
‘Linda, I need that van for work.’
‘We need the money to get Keeley back.’
He pulled out a chair and sat down next to Linda. He took her hand. ‘Linda, listen to me, we don’t have that amount of money.’
‘We have things to sell?’
‘Not fifty grand’s worth of stuff.’
‘We can empty the bank accounts, cash in the premium bonds and the life insurance policies. I’ll phone our Adam in Dublin; he’ll lend us some money. We can easily raise fifteen, maybe even twenty grand that way.’
‘And where are we going to get the other thirty?’
Her eyes darted rapidly from side to side as she thought. ‘I don’t know. Maybe we can get a loan from the bank, or a second mortgage on this place. Maybe we can release some equity.’ She reached out and grabbed for Craig, pulling on his sleeves.
‘There’s no equity left in this place. We released all we could when we did the alterations.’
‘Aren’t there some companies who buy your house and rent it back to you? I know we won’t get anywhere near the market value, but it’ll be more than fifty thousand.’
‘Linda don’t do this,’ Craig said softly.
‘We need her back, Craig,’ she said urgently. ‘I don’t care how we do it, but we’re getting her back.’
‘We advise people not to pay ransom demands,’ Ellen said, stepping forward. ‘If you pay and they disappear with the money, they’ll do it again, and who knows how much further they’ll take it next time. Kidnapping is a form of terrorism and we don’t negotiate or give in to terrorist’s demands.’
‘So why are you even here then?’ Linda shouted, jumping up from her seat. ‘What’s the fucking point of you if when the kidnappers call we tell them to stuff their money and hang up? You’re supposed to be on our side and if we can get the fifty grand we’ll pay it.’
‘Linda, calm down,’ Ellen said quietly.
‘Calm? Calm? How the fuck do you expect me to be calm?’ she exploded. ‘My daughter is missing. She’s out there, somewhere, terrified to death because some pervert’s got his hands on her. She’s never spent a night away from us before. She’ll be scared, frightened, and all you’re doing is telling me to calm down and have a fucking cup of tea.’
Ellen opened her mouth to say something, but Linda cut her off.
‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ she screamed. ‘Don’t tell me how to behave and how to feel. I want my little girl back. I don’t care what the police say.’ Tears began to stream down her face. She choked on her words.
Craig held his arms out and Linda fell into them.
‘I want her back, Craig. We need to do whatever we can to get her back home.’
‘I know, sweetheart. We will.’
‘Mum?’
Ellen turned around to see Jodie standing in the doorway. Her face was a map of worry. Her eyes full of tears. In a nightie and dressing gown, with her hair a tangled mess, she looked younger than her fourteen years and vulnerable.
‘I can’t stand not knowing where she is,’ Linda cried. ‘I can’t …’ Her words were lost to her tears as she fell out of her husband’s arms and onto the floor. She opened her mouth and let out a scream so loud and painful the whole neighbourhood must have heard it.
‘What do I do?’ Craig asked, looking, helplessly to Ellen.
‘I think we should call a doctor. She may need sedating.’
‘I don’t need sedating,’ she screamed. ‘I just—’ She stopped dead.
‘What is it?’
Her eyes were darting left and right. It was as if a switch had been flicked inside her brain. ‘Nothing,’ she said before standing up and heading out of the room. ‘I just … you’re right. Ellen. I’m sorry for snapping. I need to get some sleep. We all do.’
All three watched, open-mouthed, as Linda went from hysterical to calm in record time.
‘What just happened?’ Craig asked, mystified.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Ellen frowned.
‘There is a way,’ Linda said to herself as she padded back up the stairs. ‘They’ll let me have the money. They won’t want to see someone go through what they went through. They’ll be only too happy to help.’