Freddie stands on the doorstep, his arms full of yellow roses and a bottle of Merlot. He’s wearing a short-sleeved pale pink shirt and dark blue chinos. He leans in to kiss Rachel on each cheek, and she inhales a hint of the sweetness of the roses, which is quickly overwhelmed by his spicy aftershave. She made an effort and put a dress on, but she feels sick.
She found it hard to settle after discovering the paint. She called a locksmith straight away, and she’s comforted by the new set of keys hanging up in the hall. Pete’s wife rang to say he was stable in hospital, and Rachel asked her to contact Danny and tell him to hold off on coming to work on Monday, while Pete is out of action. She’d made a casserole and stuck it in the oven on a low heat.
‘Thanks,’ she says, taking the flowers, the covering of crinkly paper rustling as she goes into the kitchen. The table is laid for two; she’s opened the back doors, and lamps glow in the garden, casting shadows over the small pond, which is lit by the silvery light. ‘Such beautiful roses.’
‘You’re shaking,’ Freddie says.
‘Something terrible’s happened,’ she says. ‘Come upstairs and I’ll show you.’
He follows her upstairs into the loft extension and gasps when he sees the violent red splashes. In the half-light, it looks like a crime scene. He pulls Rachel to him and hugs her. ‘Who would do this?’
If only she could melt into his arms and enjoy the warmth she feels through his shirt, but she can’t stop shaking and she can’t trust anyone. She pulls away.
‘Come downstairs. I can’t stand to be up here.’
‘Have you called the police?’ he asks as they return to the kitchen.
‘Not yet,’ she says, locating a vase. ‘There’s a bottle of wine on the table if you want to do the honours while I sort these out. Let’s try and be normal. I refuse to let whoever is doing this ruin my evening. I’ve had the locks changed and cancelled the builder. I’m sure he’s behind it.’
She updates him about the situation with Pete and Danny while she clips the stems of the roses, strips excess leaves and arranges the flowers in the vase, which she sets in the middle of the table. Freddie hands her a glass and she drinks hungrily, welcoming the hit, anything to calm her anxiety. She smiles tightly, wishing she could forget the comments both Heidi and Emma made about Freddie. She can’t imagine this relaxed, friendly man fighting with Tom, but she holds back the discovery she’s made about Heidi and Danny, wanting to keep something to herself just in case.
‘I’ve made a casserole,’ she says. ‘It’s in the oven.’
‘You needn’t have cooked,’ he tells her, ‘not after that intrusion. Are the kids eating with us?’
‘No, Josh is at Scouts and Lara’s gone to the cinema. Josh will most likely stay over at my mum’s afterwards.’
‘That’s good about Lara, isn’t it? Weren’t you worried about her not having any social life?’
‘Yes. It’s her friend Holly from school, I think, though I didn’t want to ask her too many questions. After the row we had yesterday, I didn’t want to upset her again. She promised to be back by nine thirty.’ It occurs to her she didn’t ask how Lara was getting back from the cinema.
‘Do you want me to stay? We can do this another time if you prefer.’
‘I’d rather not be alone. Let’s park all the horrible stuff for now and try and enjoy ourselves. I’m going to take advantage of the kids not being here and put some music on. They hate my music. Why don’t you choose something?’
Freddie chooses a compilation of world music.
‘Good choice,’ Rachel says. ‘It reminds me of holidays I’ve been on.’
They talk for a while about travelling, and find they both like the same kind of holidays. Rachel has a sensation of watching herself go through the motions. Chat flows easily and they move on to the food, which she hardly touches, and eventually to coffee. Afterwards, they make themselves comfortable on the sofa. Rachel has barely drunk anything more; she needs to keep her wits about her. She glances at the time. Lara should be back soon. If she’s going to speak to Freddie as originally planned, she needs to get on with it.
Emma’s warning flashes again in her mind. What would her sister say if she knew she was alone in the house with Freddie? What if he’s the one behind the notes after all? Anxiety rises and she pushes it away. Freddie has been nothing but supportive. If he’d wanted to hurt her, he could have done it up there in the loft. If she’s honest and upfront with him, then he’s likely to reciprocate. On no account must he sense that her fear has anything to do with him.
‘What’s up?’ he says.
‘There’s something I need to talk to you about.’ She smiles wryly. ‘That’s exactly what I said to Lara yesterday, and look how that went.’
‘I’m sure I’ll cope if you tell me I can’t see Heidi again. That suits me just fine.’
‘Idiot.’
They laugh, although Rachel’s stomach is fluttering at what she’s about to reveal. She clutches her wine glass to her chest.
‘I don’t know how you’re going to take this, but I want to be honest with you. I like you, Freddie, and I want us to have a chance. My relationship with Tom was ruined because of his secrets, and I don’t want to make the same mistake again. If you can’t deal with it, I’d rather know now.’ She risks a glance at Freddie, who is watching her intently. She swallows hard, dives in. ‘I didn’t tell anybody at the time, but two weekends before Tom disappeared, we slept together.’ She runs through an account of exactly what happened that evening.
‘Why didn’t you want anyone to know?’
‘I suppose I was hoping he might come back to me. That night, it was how it used to be before he met Heidi; we were close and he spoke honestly. He told me he had made a mistake leaving me and the children. Plus I didn’t want it to get back to her. I thought it would make things more difficult between me and her; as it was, we were barely speaking, and we were bound to encounter one another occasionally because of the children.’
‘Have you told her now?’
She shakes her head. ‘No.’
Freddie puts his wine glass down and takes her hand. ‘It doesn’t affect how I feel about you,’ he says. ‘I didn’t tell you everything about the finances either, did I? And you were right not to tell Heidi.’
‘It probably wouldn’t matter to her now. I have no idea. I’m not sure any of us would know what to do if he were to come back. I wouldn’t go back to him, though. It’s funny, I’ve only recently realised that, become so sure of it. I’ve finally started looking to the future. Are you sure you’re not bothered by what I’ve told you?’
‘Of course not.’
Rachel’s phone rings.
‘Hi, Mum.’ She listens as her mother confirms that Josh wants to stay the night. ‘Sure, as long as you don’t mind.’ She laughs. ‘I know you do. Thanks, Mum, see you tomorrow. Yes, any time.’
Freddie has taken their glasses into the kitchen.
‘Lara should be back any minute,’ Rachel says. ‘Do you want something else to drink?’
‘Another coffee would be good. Let me make it. You put your feet up.’
Rachel keeps an eye on the time as they chat over coffee and talk about music, finding they were into the same kind of bands as teenagers. Freddie selects another album to play her, and she notices it’s five minutes past the time Lara was due home. She sends her a text.
‘Lara,’ she tells Freddie. ‘She was due back at nine thirty. It’s not like her to be late – or not to be in touch, actually.’
‘How is she getting home?’
‘I’m guessing she’s walking back with her friend. The cinema complex isn’t far away – fifteen minutes at most. Holly lives just round the corner. At least, I assume she meant Holly.’
‘It’s not even dark yet,’ Freddie says.
‘I suppose I’ll have to start getting used to this as she gets older. Sitting up fretting, waiting for her to come home. Then the same with Josh. You’re lucky not to have to deal with that.’
‘I don’t know,’ Freddie says. ‘I haven’t ruled out children in my life. Even if they are somebody else’s. I’m sure she’ll be back any minute.’
Rachel nods. ‘You’re right. I’ll just call Mum, just in case she’s heard from her.’
But her mum has no word from Lara. Although it’s hard to concentrate on Freddie’s conversation, she is comforted by his presence. Every now and then, an image of the room upstairs with its bloody-looking walls flashes through her mind, and she’s relieved not to be on her own. She’d no doubt have worked herself up into a state.
At nine forty-five, she calls Lara’s phone.
‘Voicemail,’ she says. She types out a text.
Are you on your way home?
Nothing.
‘She’ll be fine,’ Freddie says. ‘Do you want me to go out and look for her?’
‘Would you mind?’
‘No, of course not. Point me in the right direction.’
Rachel shivers on the doorstep, the light properly faded now and the street lights illuminating the length of the street. She explains the route to him and he sets off. She leans against the doorpost watching him, her eyes straining to pick out a figure walking towards him, but there’s nobody in the street apart from Freddie, who now turns the corner out of sight. She closes the door, tries to ring Lara again. Voicemail. She scrolls through her phone and looks for Holly’s number. Thank goodness she had the foresight to make a note of it. She also has the girl’s landline.
Holly’s mobile rings out, and then an extremely young-sounding voice invites her to leave a message.
‘Holly, this is Mrs Webb. Lara isn’t back from the cinema yet. I’m sure she’s fine, but could you give me a call when you get this message.’
She closes the doors leading out to the patio, as she’s properly shivering now, before running upstairs to grab a sweatshirt, no longer caring about her appearance.
Suddenly her phone rings: Freddie. Hope soars. He’s found her, he’s ringing to let me know everything’s OK, that I’m being stupid as ever, of course she’s fine…
‘Is she back?’ he asks.
‘No.’ Rachel’s heart takes a nosedive.
‘I haven’t seen her and I’m outside the cinema now. I’ll go inside and check she’s not still hanging around the foyer.’ He rings off.
Rachel paces the wooden floorboards, her fingers crossed, knowing how futile the superstitious gesture is, knowing the unlikelihood of Lara being spotted by a cinema attendant amongst the hordes of youngsters streaming out of a viewing at the most popular showing time of the evening. It’s not as if she has purple hair or anything that would make her stand out from the crowd. She’s ordinary and… special.
She lets out a sob and tries to call her again. Texts again. Her bedroom! She runs upstairs, in such a rush that she trips over a step and lands on her knees mid staircase, just managing to break her fall by grabbing the banister, but grazing her knee. The wood is cold to touch. Her heart is hammering fast and panic threatens to engulf her at the thought of her daughter coming to harm out in the dark night. Why didn’t she insist on meeting her from the cinema? How could she have put a date with a man before her daughter?
Her knee throbs where she landed, and she reaches down and feels blood. She limps into the bathroom and turns on the light, the brightness making her gasp. Holding on to the edge of the sink, she tries to compose herself. She catches sight of herself in the mirror and is aghast at her image, her face pale, her eyes wide and terrified, blood streaked across her cheek. Her knee stings. She grabs some tissue to stem the bleeding. Freddie will turn up any moment with Lara in tow.
Her phone rings again, giving her such a start she almost loses her balance. She grips it as if her life depends on it.
‘Have you found her?’
‘No,’ he says, and she slides to the floor against the side of the bath. ‘I’ll be back in a minute. I’m sure she’s fine.’
Rachel gets to her feet and runs downstairs, keeping a hand on the banister. She locates the pad where Holly’s landline number is written down.
‘Hello?’ An adult voice, female.
‘Susan?’
‘Yes. Who is this?’
‘It’s Rachel Webb, Lara’s mum. Is Holly back from the cinema?’
‘Cinema? Holly’s here, she hasn’t been to the cinema.’
Rachel puts her hand to her mouth to stop herself screaming, a million thoughts jumping into her head. ‘Sorry, I thought she went with Lara this evening to the Pixar film.’ She only assumed it was Holly. ‘Please can you ask her if she knows who Lara might have gone with? I’m really worried.’
‘Of course.’ Rachel hears footsteps and Susan calling her daughter’s name, followed by a muffled exchange. She imagines Lara in Holly’s room, Susan’s surprise at seeing her there, Rachel’s panic unfounded…
‘Rachel, Holly’s here with me now, would you like to speak to her?’
‘Yes please,’ she says, gripping the phone so hard her knuckles turn white.
‘Mrs Webb, it’s Holly. I haven’t been to the cinema this evening and I haven’t seen Lara. Um… we don’t hang out much any more. We had an argument a few months back. I asked her about her dad and she got really mad and stopped speaking to me. I didn’t really understand what I’d done wrong.’
‘When did you last see her?’
‘This afternoon, we had double geography. But we weren’t sitting together and I came straight home after school.’
Holly lives so close, their routes to school are identical; Lara just has a little bit further to go once Holly has reached her house. They used to take the journey together in Year 7, but lately Rachel gets the bus on her own.
‘Did you see her leave the classroom? Her gran was picking her up today.’ She hopes to jog Holly’s memory.
She hears Holly breathing as she thinks. ‘No,’ she says eventually, ‘but I had to speak to the teacher after class, so I wasn’t paying attention.’
‘Do you know if any of your classmates were going to the cinema? I assumed she was going with you.’
Holly hesitates. ‘Lara doesn’t talk to anybody much at school. I can’t imagine her going to the cinema with any of our class. I’m sorry I don’t know anything, Mrs Webb.’
‘Don’t be silly, you have nothing to be sorry for.’
Susan comes back on the phone. ‘What time did you expect her?’ she asks.
‘Nine thirty.’ Forty-five minutes ago.
‘Let me know when she gets home,’ Susan says. ‘I’m sure there’s a simple explanation.’
The doorbell rings, and Rachel sees Freddie’s tall shadow through the glass. She opens the door and he shakes his head.
‘I asked at the box office and they checked all the screens she could have been in, but it was empty.’ He shrugs. ‘There were so many people…’
‘I don’t think she went to the cinema,’ she says, and bursts into tears. Freddie puts his arms around her and she sobs for a few seconds and then pulls away.
‘Tell me why you don’t think she was at the cinema.’
Rachel recounts the phone conversation with Holly’s mother. ‘Lara was lying. Why would she do that? Where has she gone?’
‘Has she been acting differently lately? Is there anything out of the ordinary you can think of?’
‘The only difference is seeing Heidi, the growing attachment. Which I tried to put a stop to. And she’s started wearing make-up.’ She pictures Lara’s face, her new look, suddenly realising that it’s familiar. Lara’s eyebrows are exactly the same shape as Heidi’s – she’s copied them.
‘Heidi, I’d better check with her, just in case.’ She calls Heidi, all disinclination to contact her abandoned. But Heidi can’t help and her heart sinks.
She shakes her head at Freddie, in answer to his enquiring expression, ending the call.
‘She hasn’t seen her.’
‘What about the internet? Do you know her online passwords?’
‘No, but it’s worth seeing if I can log straight in – I’ll get her laptop.’ She fetches it from the coffee table and opens it. Immediately she’s asked for a password. She tries a few obvious ones, but to no avail. ‘If I try again I’ll get locked out.’
‘Let’s check her room.’
Rachel runs upstairs again, cold air following her from the open front door. Lara’s pencil case is on her bed, the pink unicorn sticker making her want to howl. Her baby. Getting older, growing away from her. Where is she? She looks around the room, searching for any evidence of where she might be, trying to see if anything is missing. When she left for school this morning, her hair was tied back into a high ponytail. Pretty. She looked pretty. She stifles a sob. She opens the wardrobe and flicks through the carefully hung clothes. Jeans and a red sweatshirt are missing. It looks emptier than usual; something normally fills the floor space, but she can’t think what it is.
Freddie comes into the room. ‘Anything?’
‘No, but…’ She scans the room again, goes to the dressing table, where Lara’s school books are piled up. A folded piece of paper sits on top of the stack, one word written on it: Mum.
‘Oh no.’ Freddie is at her side. Her hands shake as she opens the note.
Don’t worry about me, Mum, I’m out with a friend.
She collapses against Freddie.
‘At least we know she hasn’t been taken against her will,’ he says.
‘But where is she, what friend? Holly’s the only person she talks about from school.’ A pang of fear rises to her throat. Could it be Heidi? No, she wouldn’t. Rachel has had the odd missed call, a few texts from her since she ended the lessons, but nothing excessive.
‘What about a boyfriend? Is it a mixed school?’
She stares at him. ‘It’s mixed. I’ll ring Holly back and ask.’
Holly tells her she hasn’t seen Lara show any interest in any of the boys at school. ‘She keeps to herself most of the time. I’ve never seen her chatting to any boys, if that helps. She always used to say the boys in our year were childish and idiotic.’
Rachel hangs up and turns to Freddie, the note clutched to her chest. ‘We should call the police. They might say she hasn’t been gone long enough, but she has, it’s too long. She’s a young girl on her own. She might have met someone on the internet, a man pretending to be a boy.’ Panic rises as terrifying scenarios crowd her mind. ‘They have to take notice; she’s only twelve.’ Tears pour down her face. She can’t bear to put the thought about Heidi into words.
‘They will. Is anything missing from her room? Does she have a bag, a purse? They’ll be able to track her phone.’
‘Bag, that’s it.’ Rachel lurches back to the wardrobe, indicating the empty space. ‘Her large sports bag. It was there.’ She turns to look at him. ‘It’s gone.’