I made the familiar journey down Surrey Street toward Thompson and Partners. As I neared, I could just make out a figure leaving the building: Bex. She didn’t bother locking up because, just as I had thought, she wasn’t the last to leave. In fact, the building was pitch-black except for one window.
Opening my wallet, I retrieved my card to access the building. As I swiped, I held my breath: it wouldn’t have surprised me if Bex had cancelled the card. But she hadn’t thought of that and I entered the building quickly and quietly, making sure the large swing-door didn’t slam back on itself. The reception area was dark; the only light came from the tropical fish tank in the corner. An angelfish darted through the water, kicking up the sand on the bottom. I waited for my eyes to adjust before moving up the stairs. The office had, in some ways, become a home from home. But now, I was a stranger in a foreign land.
I knew I had to take Zander unawares. My ears were pricked: listening out for any movement but the only sound to cut through the murky gloom was the high-pitched hum of the pump in the fish tank. I felt for the first step and began the steady climb up to the fifth floor. Remembering Faye’s phone, I took it out and pressed a key to power up the display. It gave me just enough light to make it to the first floor, after which, I used the eerie green light from the fire exit signs. As I neared the top, I stopped momentarily to catch my breath. I put the phone back in my pocket, dragged my hand through my scraggly hair and strode up the final few steps.
I could see Zander through the glass, sat at his desk, whisky in hand. The gentle sound of Mozart drifted over the still office space and, for a brief second, I just watched him. This man who I thought I knew. He looked different to me now. I wasn’t sure if he had physically changed but there was something about his overall appearance that didn’t feel right. Normally, Zander was a man in control: clean, pressed suits at all times, hair slicked back, shaven. I shifted my weight from my right foot to the left and a pen I had been carrying in my pocket fell to the ground.
Zander shot up, out of his chair. ‘Who’s there?’ He strode to his office door and leant out. ‘Who’s there?’
I stepped out of the shadows. ‘It’s me, Zander.’
An expression of sadness, or remorse, flitted across his face. ‘Ah, Sophie.’ He took a tentative step out of the office into the darkness and I heard him fumbling about with switches before he flicked them on and the entire office space was bathed in a harsh fluorescent light.
‘What on earth are you doing here, Sophie? It’s so late. Has something happened?’
I stood rooted to the spot. My mind couldn’t comprehend the situation or the man in front of me.
‘I know who you are,’ I replied simply, a small rumble underpinning my words; the organic beginnings of hysteria before it became fully fledged.
If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He turned from me and headed back into his office. ‘Soda water?’ He concentrated on plucking ice cubes from a bucket and dropped them into a glass. Slowly, he unscrewed the bottle cap and poured me a drink. ‘Do you mind?’ He indicated the whisky on his desk and I shook my head. Taking his own tumbler, he topped up the already neat whisky with another finger. ‘I’m not sure I understand, Sophie.’
I sat myself down on the edge of his leather Chesterfield and he returned to sitting behind his desk. A nervous fluttering in my stomach and the sudden onset of clammy hands, took me back to our first meeting. Our interview had been more of a chat, less a grilling. I had walked into the job or, at least, that was what it had felt like. Now, I was beginning to wonder if Zander had dubious reasons for taking me on.
‘You’re Bethany’s father.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Bethany?’
I cleared my throat. ‘Yes. Bethany Saunders. Your illegitimate child.’
He gave a small shake to his head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You don’t know what I’m talking about?’ I took a huge gulp of soda water. ‘I have proof. You can’t lie. I’ve seen the birth certificate.’
He leant back in his chair. Mozart had reached a crescendo and Zander appeared to be absorbing every last note. I waited, wondering how long he could keep up this façade.
‘Why did you employ me? Did you know I was Bethany’s friend?’
Zander eventually opened his eyes, put down his tumbler and swivelled the chair so as to face me head on. Up close, I saw that he really was a shadow of his former self. His shirt appeared to hang off his frame, his eyes looked sunken and he had a couple of days’ worth of stubble.
‘Sophie, any more news on your daughter? I’ve seen from the news that they’re looking for you too now.’
I didn’t know what to say any more. Previously, I would have told anybody, anything. I had believed that everyone was on side, apart from the custody battle; I honestly thought everything else was pretty straightforward. Now, I found myself thinking twice before I divulged any information.
‘No more news,’ I replied simply.
‘I was so sorry to hear. I hope you know that.’
I stood up, the soda water sloshing from my glass onto the deep blue carpet. ‘Why are you changing the subject? You’re not answering my question.’
The Mozart CD stopped, whirring to a halt. An impenetrable silence descended on the room. I thought of the CD with Amy and her tear-stricken face and looked at my watch. I had less than twenty-four hours remaining. Time was running away from me like sand through my hands.
‘Bethany never talked about you. Or, at least, she talked about how you just gave her money all the time and about how you wanted to protect her from everything.’ I glared at him. ‘You pushed her away, Zander. Did you know that? Your love for your little girl was too much.’ I reached into my coat pocket and took out the bracelet, strode over to the desk and thrust it under his nose. ‘Do you know what this is? Do you remember giving this to her?’
Zander took the bracelet off me and caressed the heart-shaped locket between his forefinger and thumb. ‘I loved her,’ he said, his voice rumbling with emotion. ‘Yes, maybe I loved her too much but I couldn’t fight it. She was my reason for living.’ He looked at the bracelet. ‘I don’t recognise this, though.’
I grabbed the bracelet back off him. Lies. Everyone was always lying.
‘But why didn’t you tell me you were her father when you took me on? How did you know to take me on?’
He swallowed hard and I watched the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple. ‘Bethany talked about you whenever I saw her. She told me you were studying to do law too. So, it seemed natural to ask you for an interview.’ His eyes glazed over with tears. ‘Especially after she, you know. Took her own life. It felt like she would have wanted it.’
‘But for all these years …’ My voice trailed off.
‘I never talked about Bethany to anyone. She was born, as you describe it, illegitimately and I’ve seen what that tag can do to you. It was the end of everything for me. My cosy existence just vanished overnight.’
‘What do you mean?’ I sat back down on the Chesterfield.
‘My wife found out and we divorced. It was bitter.’ He let out an empty laugh. ‘In that sense, Sophie, we make good lawyers. We’ve both seen that side of life.’
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. ‘So your wife found out about Bethany when she died?’
He frowned. ‘Yes. That night forced the truth into the open. My wife couldn’t take the news. What would she tell her friends? Her husband has a child by another woman and now she’s dead, killed herself?’
I remained unmoving. Did Zander, too, think Bethany had committed suicide? My belief in what I thought I had seen that night, what had happened that night, ebbed further away.
He continued, ‘In the circles we moved in, that wasn’t the done thing.’ He paused, took a swig. ‘The funny thing, the other woman, Bethany’s mother, we weren’t meant to be. It was a brief …’ he reddened slightly, ‘fling. But when I found out she was having our child, I couldn’t bear the idea of never meeting her, getting to know her: my own flesh and blood. So, I kept in contact with Bethany. To be honest, Bethany often threatened to stop talking to me altogether.’ He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. ‘All that stuff she said to you? About me being over-protective, thinking money can solve everything, she told me that stuff too.’
I nodded in silence. ‘Didn’t your wife ever suspect you of being dishonest? Whilst Bethany was alive?’
He pursed his lips. ‘Yes, I think she did. But she never said anything. She was a stoic woman, wanted to hold it together for the sake of her reputation. Once I saw what that kind of thing could do to a marriage, I knew I couldn’t afford to let it wreck my career too. So, I’ve never talked about Bethany or the night she committed suicide to anyone.’
‘So, you never talked about Bethany when she was alive because someone might have found out you had a child with another woman and then, after she died, you continued in the same vein? Because it might have ruined your career.’ I looked at him. ‘Would it have, though? Ruined your career?’
‘This firm is my pride and joy. It’s not good press to air your dirty laundry in public.’
That comment felt pointed. I fiddled with the edge of my coat, rubbing the wool between my fingers. ‘That night …’ I didn’t know how to continue.
‘When she died?’
‘Yes.’ I chewed the side of my mouth nervously.
‘I still never fully understood what happened that night,’ he said, his gaze dropping to the desk. ‘It was …’ He tried to speak but I could tell he was fighting back the tears. ‘Let’s put it like this, I lost so much that night. More than most people will ever know.’
‘It was awful for me too. My parents …’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I know. They died a couple of years before?’
I nodded miserably. ‘I suddenly had no one. Or, at least, it felt that way.’
‘Yes, it must have been really tough on you too.’ He took a deep gulp of the whisky and closed his eyes. I could almost taste and feel the warmth of the amber liquid. ‘When she died, it was as if my whole world collapsed. My wife was divorcing me, Bethany’s mother blamed her daughter’s death on me, Bethany was gone and the only thing that made any sense was keeping the firm together.’ He lifted his gaze and looked at me. ‘Maybe she wouldn’t have started escorting if I hadn’t needed so much from her.’ His recognition of his own failure as a father struck a sombre note with me. I, too, felt I was failing Amy and I didn’t want to end up like the man in front of me: living a life of regrets after the death of a child.
‘You knew about the escorting?’ I was amazed.
‘Yes, I feel guilty to this day that I didn’t do more to stop her. She once wrote to me, told me what she was involved with and that she was doing it because she wanted to hurt me.’ He went on unabashed. ‘I took you on because I could see you were good but,’ he smiled tenderly, ‘you also reminded me of Bethany. I’d be lying if I said you didn’t.’ He stood up now. ‘I’m sorry for not being honest with you, Sophie, but it was and is complicated.’
A wave of emotion washed over me: I was relieved to know the truth about Zander’s connection to Bethany but I felt Amy was slipping out of sight: maybe Zander wasn’t the answer after all. The clock on the wall behind Zander’s head read nine o’clock. I had less than twenty hours to find my daughter or else I feared history would repeat itself.
Zander walked me down the stairs to the entrance to the building.
‘Sophie.’ he stopped me as I went to open the door, his hand on my arm. ‘I need you to know I will do everything I can to help you get Amy back.’
I nodded slowly. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing you can do.’
‘I know what it’s like to lose a daughter.’ He let go of my arm. ‘Just remember I’m here for you. We’re like family.’
I pondered this for a moment before stepping outside into the chilly night air. ‘Hasn’t the detective been to see you?’ It suddenly dawned on me that he hadn’t mentioned her but, I was sure, she would have made Zander a priority.
He glanced at me. ‘Yes, I forgot about that.’
‘What did she ask you?’
‘If I had seen you … That kind of thing.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Oh, and how I thought it unhealthy you spending time with Paul like you did last Saturday. She thought it strange a boss should take that much interest in your personal life.’ He gave a small laugh.
I nodded. The detective had queried Zander’s interest in my failed marriage. ‘I already explained you’re only trying to protect me.’
He smiled. ‘Exactly. Keep loved ones close but enemies even closer.’ He held the door open for me. ‘Or, however, that saying goes.’
I smiled, stepped into the street and brought my collar up against the cold wind whipping through Surrey Street. A black cab scuttled up the otherwise deserted street and I could feel a panic attack coming on. I was no closer to Amy and everywhere I turned it seemed to be a dead end. I was surrounded by people who lied. My breathing was becoming erratic and I could feel my legs turning to jelly, the familiar humming in my head was getting louder and louder.
My mind couldn’t register the fact that I had been working with Bethany’s father for all this time. It just didn’t make sense. On one hand, his lies felt like an enormous betrayal and, yet, I quite liked the idea that he thought I was like Bethany. It was what I had always wanted: to be like Bethany.
I felt the answer was so close and, yet, I wasn’t quite able to access it. Why would this woman come back for me, why did she want to see me suffer? Had I wronged her in some way? I felt like I was being punished for something I didn’t know I had done.