After a sluggish start through the knotty build-up of London traffic, I joined the M4 motorway. I put my foot down where I could but, approaching the second Severn Bridge, I was forced to slow. Memories spun through my mind as the traffic crawled across the bridge and I entered Wales. Then it was as if the closer I drove to where it all began, the memories became painfully clear.
I phoned Darren, put him on speakerphone.
‘Sophie.’ He sounded wary.
‘Are they there?’
‘Yes, they’re listening.’
My stomach dropped, and I took a deep breath.
‘OK, you have to believe me. The woman who has taken my daughter killed my friend, I’m sure of it.’
I heard a chair scrape in the background; imagined DI Ward getting up, them trying to trace my call.
‘I think she’s taken Amy to Aberystwyth, to a large house nearby.’
‘OK,’ Darren said slowly. ‘Sophie, are you OK? You sound agitated.’
‘Of course I’m agitated. I’m looking for my child. Do you want to help me or not?’
‘Yes,’ he said quickly and I imagined DI Ward nodding her head vigorously in the background. She didn’t want to lose this call: her only contact with me.
‘You know the evening I told you about before. Well, I remember the diplomat inviting us in. Bethany was angry with me. She hadn’t wanted to go.’
‘But you made her?’
‘Yes, I made her. I wanted to have fun. She was always out, without me. I wanted to have what I deserved.’
‘Which is?’
I looked out at the expanse of Welsh hills and suddenly felt so vulnerable. ‘I deserved to spend time with people I loved and I loved her, like family.’ I swallowed. ‘It was our thing, you know?’
‘OK, go on. Do you remember anything about the house?’
‘It’s near a cliff face, I told you that already. There were loads of rooms, like it was an old hotel. Not used any more.’
‘What happened then?’ Darren sounded exhausted.
‘The diplomat told us to behave. There were five men sat in a semi-circle on a bed. They weren’t that interested in us when we first went in the room.’
I stopped, waited for Darren to signal I should continue.
‘Go on, Sophie.’
‘They were drinking whisky, playing cards. Then this one guy did a couple of lines of coke. Bethany took some and then I did.’
‘I thought you didn’t do those sorts of drugs.’
‘I did on this occasion. I needed to.’
‘How did you know what to do?’ Darren asked.
I cleared my throat, indicated and changed lane. ‘OK, I might have done it a couple of other times.’
‘Then what?’
‘Then I drank whisky and I remember they handcuffed Bethany to the bed.’
‘Was this agreed before you girls did this?’
‘No.’
‘Then you must have been scared?’
‘I was.’ I paused. ‘Until I realised Bethany was in her element. She loved it.’
‘How did that make you feel about Bethany?’
‘Resentful.’
‘Why?’
‘She looked in control, I felt like I was floundering.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘A woman was in the room. This is where my memory is so muddled.’
I heard a chair scrape again. I didn’t care if they were listening any more. I was closer to finding Amy than I had been over the last few days. I could feel it.
‘A woman let herself into the room?’
‘Yeah, I guess. I don’t know because all I remember is a gun going off and Bethany’s head bouncing backward.’
Darren’s breathing had grown shallower. I imagined him listening, perched on the edge of his seat. DI Ward looking at him, nodding.
‘Anything else, Sophie?’
‘I remember Bethany looking at her killer and she seemed to know her.’
The ringing had started up in my ears again and I could feel my muscles weakening. I knew I needed to end the call and pull over before I had another attack. I indicated I was moving over to the side. I slammed on my hazards and held my head in my hands, willing my breathing to slow, and slowly, ever so slowly, the ringing sound disappeared.
DI Ward came on the line. ‘Sophie,’ she started, ‘we need you to tell us exactly where you are. Your safety is our priority.’
I looked at my phone and cut the call.
Reaching down into the side pocket, I felt around for a pair of sunglasses, plucking out the contents and dumping them in my lap. A quick glance downward confirmed that Faye, like me, didn’t keep spare sunglasses in her car or, for that matter, anything of use: a screwed-up chewing gum packet, pen and a small torch. The petrol gauge displayed almost empty and, spotting a sign for Magor services, I moved over to the left hand lane and came off.
The weather did a complete about turn and dark clouds shifted across the sky as I filled up with petrol. I figured there was enough time to sprint inside and buy a coffee, fearing I might fall asleep at the wheel. Having been to the toilet, I stood in a queue of two to order a double espresso from Costa. Across the way, in WH Smiths, a Chinese lady was using broad gestures and talking fast in a high-pitched voice. Her boss looked perplexed, shaking his head. The woman jabbed a newspaper in her senior’s face.
‘Yes?’
I focused on the spotty teenager in front of me.
‘Double espresso, please. To take out.’
He followed my gaze as he struck the keys on the till. ‘Two twenty-five.’
I handed over the correct change and he turned to the giant Gaggia machine. A couple of minutes later, he passed me a paper cup, shoving a plastic lid on top.
‘What’s going on?’ I indicated the argument going on behind him.
‘Woman says a child came up to her claiming to have been kidnapped.’
My heart dived into my stomach. ‘Kidnapped?’
‘Yeah, yesterday early morning, you know. I just started my shift, so I wasn’t here.’ He smiled. ‘But then her mum came over and told her daughter to apologise.’ He grinned now, the pockmarks around the corners of his mouth widening. ‘You see it all in service stations.’ When I didn’t respond, he said, ‘Enjoy your drink.’
‘Thanks,’ I mumbled, distracted, and took a sip of my coffee.
I wanted to talk to the woman across the way, see if she could tell me anything, anything at all. But it was hopeless. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself and, besides, I knew where the answers lay. It wasn’t with that woman. It wasn’t here.
In fact, I was just over an hour off from where it all began; my mouth turned dry at the prospect. I walked hastily to the car, knocking back the espresso as I went, and jumped in. If that woman’s sighting was correct, then I could at least continue forward in the knowledge that Amy was alive: for now.
It wasn’t long before I hit the A-roads and I was taking no prisoners: flying around the bends and up and down the familiar Welsh hills. With each passing mile, the grey sky intensified and thunder sounded, clouds trembling on the verge of breaking. The rubbly, gorse-covered sides of the Ceredigion Valley grew steeper, sucking me in. It was as if the seaside town knew: today was the day. A sense of foreboding appeared to linger in the air; a valley shrouded in dark secrets. As I sped over the final crest, Aberystwyth came into view and the first drops of rain crashed down onto the windscreen.