The last time I saw my son was on a Saturday morning. Alan was six years old and I’d kept him at home from school the day before because he had a temperature and was feeling poorly. But by Saturday, Alan was back to his usual self and was desperate to kick a ball around with the lads down the road. It was May but there was still a chill in the air, so I made him wrap up warm. Seems such a stupid thing to worry about now… after everything that’s happened. But that’s the way of it. You never know when your life is going to be destroyed. And that’s what happened to us.
A year before Colin Wallace’s lock-up of depravity was found and he was arrested, my only son went missing. We haven’t heard from him since and his body was never found.
Had Alan been kept in the same lock-up? Or, in a different one somewhere else?
These are just some of the questions we might never have answers for, because Colin Wallace confessed to abducting and killing numerous boys, and then withdrew his statement, refusing to ever speak about it again. And in doing so, he has destroyed my family and taken away our peace. Colin Wallace lived as a monster and died as one as well.
Libby closed her laptop. She had to stop reading the interviews that Gemma Harrington had on her blog. And yet every time she tried, her eyes would drift back to the words. Like some kind of torture where she had to keep taking in all the pain and suffering that Colin Wallace’s victims and their families had gone through.
Was it to try and goad her into action? To force her out of the inertia that kept preventing her from calling the police and telling them what she knew about Nathan? Except what did she really know? It was all still separate pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit together. And as far as she was aware, no other girls were missing.
Libby swallowed and tried to ignore the coil of dread in her stomach that was keeping her from deciding what to do. Would it be different when she heard back from Gemma? Or from Nathan? Did she need one of them to come in and convince her of the truth so that she could break the holding pattern she was in?
I have to finish what I started.
‘There’s no more milk.’ Sam appeared in the doorway, holding the empty bottle towards her, as if she could somehow magically fill it. Libby frowned, not realising he was still in the house.
‘Shouldn’t you be at school?’ She stood up and walked towards him. There were dark shadows under his eyes and his clothes were crumpled, like he’d slept in them.
‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’ he countered. Libby raised an eyebrow and he held up his hands. ‘Relax. I have a late start. Besides, it’s only maths and now that I have someone to do it all for me, I should be fine.’
A week ago, Libby would’ve flinched at his needling, but now it had dropped so far down her list that she couldn’t even muster up a scowl.
His face darkened, clearly irritated that she didn’t take his bait, and he stalked out of the study and down the stairs, slamming the front door shut as he went. A moment later, the engine of his car fired up and the tyres squealed as he drove away. Libby sighed and followed his lead by heading downstairs.
She usually only allowed herself two cups of coffee a day but the way the morning had started, she wasn’t sure she’d make it through to lunch without a third. Without Nathan there, the percolator was in the cupboard instead of sitting on the bench where he usually left it, and there were no freshly ground beans. Sighing, she dragged out the old-fashioned coffee grinder and had just finished turning the handle when Jonathan called.
‘Hey.’ She put him on speaker so she could finish her ritual. It was done and she turned on the hob before tucking her phone back under her ear.
‘Everything okay? Denise said you were still sick.’
‘I’m fine. Just got a temperature and that stomach bug that’s been going around.’ She hated lying, especially to a friend, but it was a hell of a lot easier than telling the truth.
‘You poor thing. I hope Nathan’s looking after you. Want me to bring something around for you?’
‘That’s very sweet, but I’m okay. I think I’m just going to sleep,’ she said as the doorbell went. ‘Hey, I’ve got to go, but thanks for checking in on me.’
‘Of course. Hope you feel better soon,’ he said and ended the call.
Libby turned off the coffee and hurried through to the hallway, Harriet threading her way between her ankles. ‘Stop it,’ she scolded the cat before half opening the door.
A man was standing there. He was in his mid to late thirties with pale blue eyes and brown hair that was sprinkled with grey. There was no sign of a clipboard or lanyard around his neck, which meant he probably wasn’t selling anything. It almost made her trust him less.
She kept the door half open and put her foot firmly behind it. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I hope so. My name is Stephen Parker.’ He had a northern accent, though not one she could place, and his voice was soft. ‘You don’t know me but I’m a friend of Gemma Harrington. I’ve just arrived from Manchester and I’m hoping you can help me.’
Gemma?
Libby’s fingers tightened around the door frame and this time she made sure her shoulder was also behind it. However, he didn’t seem interested in trying to force his way in. Instead, he took a slight step back, as if worried about being intimidating.
‘What kind of help? I’ve only met her once and that was in a supermarket car park.’
‘I know. She told me all about it.’ He paused, as if weighing up his words. ‘I’m here because she’s missing. I’ve been trying to contact her since Wednesday night but I haven’t had a reply. It’s not like her, so I came down late last night. But she never came back to the hotel where she was staying.’
Missing.
Libby swallowed as images crashed into her mind, one after another. All the things she’d been reading about Colin Wallace. About the kind of man her father-in-law had been.
And the only saving grace about Nathan and Sam’s strange behaviour was that no one else had been reported missing.
Until now.
‘Are you sure she hasn’t checked into another place? She had a rental car; maybe she decided to go further around the coast. I-it is beautiful this time of year.’
She was clutching at straws and Stephen’s worried expression confirmed it.
‘She would never have left without paying the bill or taking her luggage. Including her laptop. I paid the account and that’s when they gave me your details. The man on reception said you’d been looking for her.’
Libby closed her eyes to avoid staring at the deep lines carving their way into Stephen’s face. Her decision to contact Gemma was because she wanted some answers, and more information about Colin Wallace, but before she’d done that, she’d researched her online to make sure she was telling the truth. Yet, what did she know about Stephen?
‘Can I see some ID please?’
‘Of course.’ He extracted his wallet and showed his driver’s licence. Libby quickly typed his name into her phone and found him. A family lawyer at a community centre in Manchester.
Gemma’s voice drifted into her mind.
Stop protecting them.
‘Okay, what would you like to know?’ she asked. He gave her a solemn smile, his blue eyes meeting hers. As if to say thank you. She brushed it aside, not wanting to dwell on the discomfort of who she might be betraying.
‘Why did you want to speak to her?’
‘When she came up to me, she told me that someone called Colin Wallace might be my husband, Nathan’s real father. I didn’t want to listen but then she sent me another email, telling me about her brother, Lucas.’ Libby’s voice shook as the reality started to fully sink in. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about it and then I found… well… I wanted to get some more details from her. So, I called her on Wednesday night and then went to the hotel yesterday.’
‘What sort of details? Was it about what happened to Hayley Terrace?’
‘Not really.’ Libby rubbed her chin. ‘It’s all so confusing. I’d never even heard of Colin Wallace until I met Gemma, but…’ she tailed off, hoping that he’d fill the silence. He didn’t. She sighed. ‘Some things weren’t quite adding up at home, and the more I looked, the—’ she broke off. It was terrible enough to think these things in her head but saying them out loud somehow made it all real. ‘I wanted to ask her more questions. But I’m not sure how this can help you? She wasn’t there and didn’t return my call.’
‘I understand. However, what I really need help with is talking to your son. I believe he was the last person to see her.’
What?
‘Son?’ Her throat still felt dry and the word burned.
He nodded. ‘The last time I spoke to Gemma, she’d just had a coffee with Sam. I managed to find the café where they went and the manager confirmed it. He thought they’d left at about five-forty-five, which ties in with when she called me. It also potentially means that Sam was one of the last people to see her.’
He didn’t say the word ‘alive’, but it hung in the air like a missile.
Her knees buckled and she leaned against the door frame, afraid she might faint.
And why hadn’t Sam mentioned it?
She thought of his pale face and the dark shadows under his eyes. She’d put it down to too many late nights and not enough sleep. But had there been a different reason? Had he stayed up trying to research Colin Wallace, the same way she had?’
Or was it something else?
Stephen gave her an apologetic smile. ‘I know this is hard but I need to speak to Sam. According to the manager, they were in the café for almost an hour.’
Libby swallowed. Her days of trying to pretend nothing was happening were over. If Gemma really was missing, then she couldn’t keep covering it up… especially from herself. She nodded her head as if trying to give herself courage.
‘Sam’s at school. I-I suppose I could call him.’
‘Thank you,’ he said as she tapped the screen and then brought up Sam’s number and called it.
She tried a second time but there was still no answer. That wasn’t surprising, especially in the last six months when he’d only ever called or messaged when he needed food or money. Swearing, she brought up the school’s number.
‘Hi Beryl, this is Libby Curtis,’ she said as soon as the school secretary answered. ‘Something’s come up and I’m trying to get hold of Sam. He’s not answering his phone. Could you check if he’s arrived at school? He left home about half an hour ago.’
‘Hang on one moment. I’ll see if he’s on the attendance roll.’ Beryl’s voice was accompanied by a clatter of the keyboard. ‘Hmmm. No, he hasn’t showed up yet. But Libby, while I have you, did you know that Sam’s been absent all week?’
‘What? Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I can see that we’ve sent out a text message to both you and your husband,’ she said before rattling off two mobile numbers that Libby had never heard of before. She swore under her breath. The school records must have been updated. ‘Is everything okay?’
No. Not remotely. Libby’s throat burned and her skin prickled.
‘I see… yes. It’s fine. I’m at work and his father must have forgotten to tell me. Thank you.’
Libby ended the call but her hand was shaking as she turned back to where Stephen was waiting. The muscles on his neck were tense and it was clear he’d understood the implications of her phone call.
‘He’s not at school.’
‘Can you think of where he might be?’ This time, he didn’t hide the urgency in his voice.
Despite their recent fights, Sam was so much like Nathan that it hurt. And just like her husband, when things got too much, there was only one place Sam would go. Down to the water. She’d long ago installed a surfing app on her phone and made Nathan teach her how to read it so that she’d know where the swells were, depending on the wind. She tapped the screen and studied it.
Highcliffe Beach.
The same place where Hayley had first gone missing.
She shut her eyes. Part of her still screamed that this whole thing was a mistake. The idea that Sam or Nathan could hurt anyone was—
‘Please, Libby. I know this is hard. But Gemma’s missing and we need to find her as quickly as possible. And if Sam can help…’
‘I know.’ She reached for her car keys and bag. There was no sign of a car, so he must have come by Uber or taxi. ‘We can go in my car. It’s about fifteen minutes away.’
* * *
The car park was almost empty when Libby pulled in, making it easier to spot Sam’s car. There was no sign of his surfboard but she didn’t want to tell Stephen that. He’d already spent the entire trip tapping his long fingers against his leg, as if trying to shake off the unbearable tension.
She couldn’t blame him. If the roles had been reversed, she would have been the same.
There were several people out on the waves but there was no sign of the distinctive longboard that Nathan had given Sam last year. Libby swallowed and scanned the beach before zooming in on it. The board was flat out on the sand and next to it was Sam. His head was slumped forward though his hands were moving, tossing something up into the air and catching it again.
‘That’s him.’
Stephen seemed to sense her tension and gave her an expectant look. ‘Do you want me to come?’
Libby chewed her lower lip. Sam didn’t always do well around strangers but there was no time to worry about that. If Gemma had been missing since Tuesday afternoon, they had to find out exactly what had happened and, for that, Stephen needed to be there. In case he needed to do what she couldn’t. What kind of mother was she?
‘Yes.’
‘Okay.’ At the end of the car park was a sloping zig-zag path leading down to the beach. They were silent as they descended and the wind nipped at their skin, sending Libby’s thick dark hair flying across her face. She pushed it back as they made their way through the soft sand.
Sam continued to toss the ball up into the air before catching it, but his gaze was unfocused, as if he was looking at something out on the horizon.
It wasn’t until Libby was almost next to him that he turned around. His eyes were red rimmed and his mouth was set in a distraught line.
She let out a small sob and was suddenly next to him. Holding him like she’d done so many times over the years. He was still hers, no matter what he’d done.
His body was stiff and unyielding before the fight seemed to drain out of him and his head pressed into her neck. They sat there for some time before he finally pulled away and looked at Stephen for the first time.
Libby slipped her hand into his. ‘Sam, this is Stephen. Gemma Harrington’s friend. And right now he’s very worried about her. Is it true that you saw her on Wednesday?’
He rubbed his eyes, as if waking up from a long sleep, still groggy. But finally, he nodded.
‘Yeah. She was at the beach and said she wanted to talk to me about Dad. We had coffee and she told me…’
Pain flashed across his face and he dropped his head again.
Something ripped at her heart. All she’d wanted to do was keep him safe. Make the world a good place for him. But she hadn’t been able to do that. There had been something dark that had come for them both.
‘She told me the same thing,’ she whispered. He looked back up, eyes bleak.
‘It’s true, isn’t it?’
‘I… I think so,’ Libby answered before looking up to Stephen and giving him a nod.
He knelt a few metres away, so that he was on eye level with them both. ‘Sam, can you tell me what happened? What did you talk about and did Gemma mention that she was going anywhere else? Maybe to meet with someone?’
‘No. When we were leaving, she asked if I could look for anything to prove Dad was really Ian Wallace. I said I’d think about it and then went to catch my bus. She wanted to give me a lift in her car, but I said no. I wanted to clear my head.’
‘Did she say where she’d parked?’
He shook his head. ‘No. All she kept talking about was that she owed it to the families to find the bones. That’s why she came down here. To talk to Dad and Grandma.’
‘And you haven’t heard from her since?’ There was more urgency in Stephen’s voice now. ‘Did anyone in the café seem like they were watching you?’
‘Sorry.’ Sam shook his head, fatigue clear in his eyes. ‘My head was all over the place. I can hardly even remember what she looks like, let alone if anyone else was there. Are you sure she’s missing?’
‘I’m sure,’ Stephen said, his voice not as calm as it had been. Sam looked at the ball in his hands and then threw it as far away from them as he could, before turning to Libby.
‘What’s this about? Do you think that’s why Dad’s gone away?’
Stephen’s whole body stiffened and his jaw went tight. ‘What do you mean? Where’s Nathan?’
Libby swallowed. She was so tired and her mind was all over the place. Like a juggler who couldn’t catch all the balls. There were too many of them and they were falling all around her.
‘I don’t know.’ She forced herself to return his gaze and saw the terror in his eyes. ‘He came home at some stage on Tuesday night or Wednesday morning and left me a note but he hasn’t been back since.’
Next to her, Sam thumped the sand with his hand and Libby shuddered as all the unanswered questions flooded her mind. About her son, about Nathan, about the blood they inherited. It needed to stop. She needed to find out the truth, no matter how much it hurt.
‘Sam, do you know anything about the night that Hayley was taken?’
He went still, his exhausted eyes staring directly at her, but instead of the usual rage that followed, he simply nodded his head. ‘Yes.’
Libby shut her eyes.
Here they were. Back at ground zero. The place where everything had started. It was all the things that she didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to believe were possible. But the bleakness in his voice told her that he was too tired to lie any longer. Which meant she had to listen.
‘Tell me what happened?’ she said softly.
‘A few weeks ago, one of the guys that I sometimes… well… I get weed from him. Anyway, he said I could make a few extra quid if I wanted to sell some party gear. I only did it twice and then stopped. Not my scene at all. But then Zoe heard about it and kept asking. I should’ve said no… but in the end, I gave in.’
Libby’s breath was sharp. ‘That was the night of the bonfire?’
He let out a miserable sigh. ‘If Hayley hadn’t taken anything, she’d have been okay. And the prick who kidnapped her, wouldn’t have had the chance.’
‘T-that’s it. You’re sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure—’ he broke off, eyes widening. ‘You didn’t think that I—’
‘No,’ she quickly said and then stopped herself. ‘I don’t know. I keep finding things that draw our family back to that night. And the fact you sold them ketamine, which is more than a party drug, by the way.’
He looked up, a bit of life finally showing in his eyes. ‘No way. It wasn’t ketamine. Wait, is that what the police are saying? I didn’t know that.’
‘I don’t think it’s been officially released.’ Libby said, remembering that Fiona had told her in confidence. ‘Are you sure that’s not what the pills were?’
He shook his head. ‘No way. Just E—’ he cut off, catching Libby’s sharp glance. ‘I mean, not just E. Anyway, that means someone else must have given her the K.’
‘But why didn’t you tell someone? It could have made a difference.’
‘I wanted to go to the police. I figured they should know but Dad wouldn’t let me.’
‘Nathan knew?’ The words tore from Libby’s throat. So many things kept compounding on top of each other. So many secrets. Then she remembered the fight Sienna had told her about. ‘Is that what you two were arguing about?’
‘He said there were things from the past that people might make a big deal of.’ Sam looked away. His jaw clenched. ‘I thought he was talking about how my real mum’s dad died. The car accident. And that maybe he was just trying to protect me. But then Gemma told me about Colin Wallace and what he did to that boy.’ He screwed up his eyes to stop the tears leaking out. ‘Why is everything so fucked up?’
‘I don’t know.’ She shook her head, but she wasn’t sure she believed it.
You deserve a better husband than the monster you got.
Her husband thought he was a monster. That he was the same as his father. And that he had to finish what he started. She wrapped her arms around her chest to hide the hollow ache that was building up inside her. Her perfect life was a lie. It was empty. Barren. Gone.
Stephen abruptly stood up. ‘I’m sorry, Libby, I need to go to the police. I’m not like Gemma. I’m not trying to chase ghosts and I’m not accusing your husband of anything, but the longer she’s missing, the harder it will be to find her. And if he is involved—’
‘It’s okay. I understand.’ Libby cut him off and helped Sam to his feet, her eyes fixed firmly in the distance, letting it fall out of focus so that it was just a blur.
Her heart ached at the destruction she’d caused. She’d saved Sam the way she couldn’t save Todd, but in doing so, she’d destroyed her husband. And the most terrible part was that she’d done exactly what her own mother had done. But in this case, instead of deserting her children, she’d deserted her husband. Still, it didn’t make it better. It just meant she’d become the person she hated the most in the world.