Having checked on Google Maps, Claire realised Sophie’s flat was within walking distance of Rhyl promenade and beach. Now all she had to do was actually find it. Her sat nav seemed to be sending her around in circles. Driving along the parade, she felt a painful stab of melancholic nostalgia as she passed the places she’d visited with her father. The SeaQuarium, viewed from the road rather than the waterfront, looked almost sad and lonely on a wet, grey April day. Or maybe that was just the way she was feeling inside.
‘Can we go and see the fish, Mummy?’ Ella asked enthusiastically as Claire pointed the building out.
‘Ooh, I should think so.’ Claire smiled at her in the rear-view mirror. ‘But not today. We have to see Mummy’s friend, remember? And then we have to go to the hotel and unpack our things and find somewhere to have dinner.’
‘McDonald’s!’ Ella suggested excitedly.
‘Hmm?’ Claire eyed her knowingly. Aware that being on holiday meant the mood was relaxed, her daughter was taking advantage, she suspected. ‘Maybe. We’ll see,’ she said.
‘Happy Meal Veggie Wrap.’ Ella nodded, the decision clearly already made.
Claire couldn’t help but laugh. Her daughter was a shrewd little operator. Claire had no doubt her mind was more on the free toy than on eating sensibly. ‘Veggie Wrap it is then.’
Claire had booked a room at the Travelodge, fancying that the hotel on the seafront where she’d stayed with her dad might bring back memories that would be too difficult to deal with in light of what she now knew. Though in reality she didn’t know anything, other than what Sophie had told her. That was the whole point of her being here, she reminded herself, to establish whether her dad was the man she’d thought he was, or whether there was a whole other side to him he’d kept hidden from her. As Luke had. Realising she didn’t know anything about Sophie other than what she’d told her, she’d wondered whether it was wise to bring Ella along with her, after all, and had tried to contact her husband several times this morning. She’d hoped he might take Ella for the day, in which case, she would have driven back this evening. Once again, he’d chosen to ignore her texts and calls, meaning he was ignoring not just her, but Ella too. This was a side of Luke she once would have struggled to believe existed. She’d just have to learn to manage without him, wouldn’t she? Suppressing the sudden overwhelming wave of sadness that crashed through her, she attempted to steel her resolve.
‘Will we be able to swim in the sea, Mummy?’ Ella asked, her eyes wide as she took in the sights. She was definitely getting into the holiday spirit.
Claire smiled. ‘It might be a teeny bit cold for swimming in the sea, sweetheart, but maybe we’ll go to the swimming pool, if we have time.’
‘Yippee!’ Ella clapped her hands in delight, and Claire marvelled at how easily pleased her little girl was, even now, with all that was going on. She should be counting her blessings. She would be, were it not for this complete sense of failure she couldn’t shake off. She knew deep down that she wasn’t to blame for anything Luke or her father had done, but still she felt that she was. That she really was lacking in some way. She’d driven Luke away, after all. But then, he’d undoubtedly wanted to go. She couldn’t help wondering now whether her father might have wanted to leave too, whether he might have stayed with her mother out of a sense of duty when in his heart it was Sophie’s mother he’d wanted to be with. And, ultimately, Sophie.
Stop. Gripping the wheel hard, she warned herself not to make assumptions that were breaking her heart as surely as Luke had. She had no real proof yet that Sophie was who she said she was. Her spirits dipped at the prospect of meeting her, and then lifted a little as she realised she’d finally located the right road.
‘Are we nearly there yet, Mummy?’ Ella asked the inevitable question.
‘We are, sweetheart,’ Claire assured her, squinting at house numbers as she drove by, and then pulling up outside the one she was looking for: a three-storey red-brick Victorian terrace.
Hoping she hadn’t made a huge mistake coming here, she braced herself to climb out. ‘Got Flopsy, lovely?’ she asked Ella, turning off the engine.
‘Got her,’ Ella said, straining to grab her precious rabbit soft toy from the seat next to her and hugging it to her chest.
‘Good girl.’ Claire collected up her bag and reached for the door handle, then stopped as her phone rang. Pulling it from her bag, she checked the number. It wasn’t one she recognised. She debated for a second, and then, thinking it might be something to do with her dad, accepted the call.
‘Claire, it’s me,’ Luke said. ‘I haven’t got my phone. I’m sorry, I…’
‘Was otherwise engaged?’ Claire suggested as he trailed off. She didn’t want his apologies.
‘I’m in trouble, Claire,’ he continued, sounding choked, which immediately sent a prickle of apprehension through her. ‘I’m at the police station. They’re letting me go, for now, but… Something’s happened…’
Claire glanced quickly at Ella. ‘What?’
He didn’t answer, igniting a new wave of panic inside her. ‘Luke?’ She clutched her phone tighter to her ear.
‘Is it Daddy?’ Ella asked, her wide blue eyes hopeful. ‘Can I speak to him?’
‘Luke, are you there?’ Claire pressed a finger to her lips, shushing Ella. ‘Luke? You’re scaring me. Talk to me. What’s happened?’
‘I don’t know. I…’ Luke faltered, his voice catching. ‘Anna, she…’
Anna? Claire tried to get her head around the situation as Luke broke off again. The woman he was cheating on her with, presumably. Did he seriously think she wanted to hear about anything to do with his relationship with her? She might have laughed, but for the fact that he was clearly distraught. Something was very wrong.
‘Mummy, I want to talk to Daddy,’ Ella insisted.
‘She’s gone.’ Luke’s tone was ragged. ‘She wasn’t there when I went to her flat. The police arrived five minutes after I did. They—’
‘Mummeee…’
‘Ella, quiet,’ Claire snapped. ‘The police? But why? Who called them? I don’t understand. Luke, you need to slow down.’
Clearly trying to compose himself, Luke took a long breath. ‘The neighbours called them,’ he went on, sounding no less fraught. ‘We argued, yesterday, before I came over to you. She didn’t report it until later. It wasn’t—’
‘Report it?’ Claire’s stomach flipped over. She pictured the livid scratch running the length of his cheek, his closed expression when she’d asked him about it, the evasiveness in his eyes, and felt her heart settle like ice in her chest. They’d fought, obviously. How bad had it been that the police were involved?
‘There was blood… in the bathroom,’ Luke said, shocking her to the core. ‘She’s not answering her phone. If they don’t find her…’
Dear God! Instinctively, Claire glanced again in Ella’s direction, and her heart lurched. Her daughter was crying. Because Claire had snapped at her. Because she could hear all of this and she was scared too. Her soft toy clutched to her face, she was quietly sobbing, because of her bloody, bloody father and his mistress.
‘Claire, are you still there?’ Luke asked.
She could hear his fear. It was palpable. Cautioning herself not to do or say anything else that might upset her daughter, she tried frantically to make sense of what had happened. What did he mean, if they don’t find her? People didn’t just disappear. Not unless they had reason to; that reason being that they were frightened. Or, God forbid, unless they were made to.
‘Claire…’ Luke’s voice was strained. ‘I have no idea what to do.’
Claire’s pulse raced. Luke wasn’t violent. He’d never been aggressive. He’d slammed the front door that morning he’d fallen over the baby gate; he’d been furious then. But he’d had every right to be after being attacked the night before by her father. Hadn’t he? Her mind whirled with confusion. Did she know him? Really? This man who’d cheated on her. Had she ever? ‘I have to go,’ she said quickly. ‘Ella…’
‘Right. Of course.’ Luke sucked in another sharp breath. ‘Can I come and see you?’ he asked. ‘At the house? I need to explain, Claire. About everything. Will you give me a chance to?’
‘I can’t.’ Her stomach twisting with anxiety, Claire reached for door handle again. ‘I’m not there. I’m away.’
‘Away where?’ Luke’s response was one of alarm.
‘I’m meeting someone, I told you,’ Claire reminded him. But she didn’t want to go into all that now. ‘Luke, I have to go.’ Ella would need reassuring. God, how much more reassuring would she need before this nightmare her own father had turned her world into was over?
‘Can I call you?’ Luke asked.
Claire hesitated.
‘Claire, please,’ he begged. ‘You’ve every right to tell me to piss off, but… I’m desperate.’
Pushing her door open, Claire deliberated. She couldn’t not speak to him. For their daughter’s sake, she had to know what was going on. ‘I’ll call you,’ she said. ‘As soon as I can.’
Ending the call, she opened the door, unbuckled Ella and lifted her out. Setting her down on the pavement, she crouched down to her. ‘What’s the matter, sweetheart?’ she asked, brushing Ella’s hair back and silently cursing both herself and Luke for bringing such emotional trauma into their child’s life.
Ella pressed Flopsy to her chin. She was holding her breath. Claire’s throat constricted. ‘Ella?’ she urged her.
‘That woman is staring at me, Mummy,’ Ella said tremulously, looking upwards over her shoulder. ‘She’s watching me out of the window.’
Her heart flipping over, Claire twisted to follow her gaze. ‘What woman, sweetheart?’ she asked. Whoever had been at the window had disappeared.