No one really knows how they’ll feel when something like that happens, or how slowly it changes you. I used to tease Katy that she always looked after me, never the other way round. Maybe I feel guilty for that now. How differently I would have done things … but would she have turned out to be the same Katy?
As I sit on the bus heading towards central Bristol, I look at the backs of people’s heads and wonder if they too have experienced loss like this, if it’s as obvious on everyone else’s face as I feel I wear it on mine.
I never wanted to involve myself much in the press and media, and I only ever did one press conference appealing for Katy’s whereabouts, and I saw how it was picked apart. I know what people think of me.
Do you think it hasn’t crossed my mind that Katy’s disappearance would have gotten more coverage if she wasn’t from a working-class background, if we didn’t live in what others considered to be the rough part of Bristol? And that it would have gotten less coverage if Katy wasn’t pretty, if she wasn’t blonde, and everything a missing girl should be?
I’ve thought about it a lot.
I raised Katy to be unapologetically herself, and she grew up with a big mouth and a big heart. She found her direction in life quickly because she was decisive and in control. When she felt something, she felt all of it, but she was always capable of cutting through emotion, or severing it in half and placing emotion and logic into neat compartments.
Katy was nothing like me, but maybe I’m more like her now.
I realise I talk in the past tense when it comes to Katy, because I’m talking about a past version of her, not because I believe she isn’t here, somewhere. I know people picked that apart too, in the few times I referenced Katy. They said, ‘Her mum referred to Katy in the past tense about ten times, a bit suspicious if you ask me.’ It made me sick that anyone could think I knew where Katy was.
When I arrive at the studio’s offices, I’m quickly whisked through reception and into an open-plan office and shown to a large corner office overlooking Queen’s Square. It has creamy leather sofas with fluffy purple cushions and the walls are glass from floor to ceiling. I feel slightly out of place as I smooth down my hair and straighten the creases in my jeans, awkwardly moving about the empty office until I decide to sit down on the sofa.
I brought my notes with me, copies of them, in a large rucksack that I sling off my back and let fall to the floor. I created my own timeline of the day Katy went missing, of her whereabouts and movements, and then all the police findings, anything and everything I could get my hands on.
The glass door flies open and a woman enters in big black DMs, wearing a white blazer and bright blue pencil trousers. She doesn’t see me at first; she isn’t smiling, she’s focused on her laptop resting on her forearm, clutched haphazardly with one hand.
‘Hi,’ I say, awkwardly.
She looks up, surprised, before exploding into an apologetic grin. ‘Grace, I had no idea you’d arrived. I’m so sorry, let me just close this down,’ she says, marching towards her desk. The laptop slides off her arm and effortlessly onto her desk and she spins to face me, holding out a hand. ‘I’m Maggie, so lovely to meet you. Did they offer you anything, tea, coffee?’
‘Oh no, I’m fine.’
She nods emphatically, ‘Maybe something at lunch? I’ve got a booking at a great pasta place around the corner, really intimate, but private, but I thought we’d have a short chat here first. I expect Lawrence will join us, he’s the director.’
I nod as she whisks around the room grabbing pieces of paper and a large binder, finally sitting in the matching cream swivel chair opposite me.
‘Sure you’re okay for drinks?’
‘I’m sure,’ I say.
‘Okay, well.’ She checks her watch. ‘I’m sure Lawrence will join us when he’s free, so why don’t I start by telling you a little bit about the project.’ She glances at my backpack.
‘My notes,’ I say, ‘in case you need them.’
She nods. ‘That would be great, thank you.’ She leans back and flicks open the binder. ‘I firstly just want to thank you so much for coming in. You must have been through so much in the last ten years, I really can’t imagine.’
‘That’s okay, I just thought, maybe it’ll be a good thing, you know, maybe help the investigation.’
She smiles. ‘So as I told you previously, the podcast Finding Katy are onboard to help with their findings. Did you listen to it?’
‘No, I didn’t want to, but one of Katy’s friends told me about it. They went through the three suspects questioned after Katy went missing, they covered the timeline, things like that.’
‘Well,’ she says, leaning back, checking her binder. ‘Those three suspects have all agreed to the documentary, including the ex-boyfriend.’
‘All of them?’
She nods. ‘We would ask them some tough questions.’
‘The police already asked them tough questions. It led nowhere.’
She licks her lips. ‘I understand.’ She leans forward. ‘Can I ask you a question, Grace?’ I nod, shifting uncomfortably. ‘Do you think any of them were involved in Katy’s disappearance? You must have you own theories.’
‘I never liked her boyfriend,’ I say, slowly. ‘But I don’t want this to be just about them, I want it to be about Katy,’ I say.
‘Of course, it will be, one hundred per cent. She’s the focus in this, she’s the reason we’re here.’ She pauses. ‘Can I ask you another question?’
‘Okay.’
‘What do you think happened?’
No one has ever asked me that before, but maybe I never let them. I suddenly feel very vulnerable and exposed. ‘I don’t know.’
She smacks her lips together. ‘We’ll want to interview you for the documentary, but we’ll prepare a list of questions for you to think about beforehand. I imagine that will be one of them, and your answer is fine,’ she says, holding up her hands. ‘It’s just, people have never heard from you before, it’ll be powerful, whatever you have to say.’
I consider this. ‘I think the police did a good job.’
‘Yes, no one is questioning that, or …’ she says, leaning forward ‘—… or are you?’
I shake my head.
‘That’s okay. Like I said, we’ll prep questions ahead of time.’ She closes the folder and stretches out her legs. ‘Do you have any questions for me?’
I nod, reaching for my backpack, producing my own notepad.
‘Oh,’ she says, and a surprised smile appears across her lips. The door swings open again and this time a tanned blond man in a dark navy suit strides across the office, an arm already outstretched to greet me. ‘Grace, I’m Lawrence, so nice to meet you.’ He pulls over the desk chair and plonks down, letting out a deep sigh. ‘Sorry, it’s been a hectic day.’
‘That’s okay.’
‘I was just asking Grace if she had any questions for us,’ Maggie says, with a hint of frustration.
‘Of course. I just wanted to say first of all though, I’m really sorry about what happened to Katy, but we’re sure we can do her story justice and I’m so glad you agreed to meet with us.’
There’s an awkward silence. I think he wants me to thank him, to say something grateful and reassuring, but I don’t. I understand who Maggie and Lawrence are, they make high-powered deals and they win people over, they are trained to say the right thing, and I’ve never been good at saying the right thing.
Katy told me her friends called me a hippie, but she relayed it back to me endearingly, saying they just thought I was cool letting Katy do what she wanted. But why wouldn’t I? When she turned eighteen, maybe even before that, I trusted her implicitly, I gave her space to have her own life, make her own mistakes, have her own regrets and dreams, her own memories.
I knock the notepad against my lap. ‘I do have a few questions actually.’
‘Shoot,’ Lawrence says, crossing his legs and clasping his hands together.
‘Who will be conducting the interviews?’
Maggie goes to speak but Lawrence interrupts. ‘It’ll be a faceless interviewer, more just someone behind the camera asking prepared questions.’
‘Are you …’ I ask, pausing ‘… planning to share any new findings with the police?’
‘Of course, but you know we can’t make any promises,’ Lawrence says. ‘We really want to highlight Katy’s disappearance specifically because of the rise in interest.’ He stops. ‘Because women aren’t safe walking home at night and that needs to change.’
‘I agree,’ Maggie chimes in.
‘It’ll be very sensitive, we assure you.’ Lawrence adds.
I nod slowly.
‘We did need to speak to you though.’ He unfolds his legs and leans forward, glancing at Maggie.
She smiles through a frown and chews the side of her cheek. ‘We need to ask you about Katy’s dad,’ she says, finally.
‘Her dad?’
‘Well, we just want to make sure we have all the facts.’
I tense. ‘The facts?’ I realise I’m repeating what Maggie’s asking, but I wasn’t prepared for this. ‘Katy didn’t know her dad.’
Lawrence is quiet, twirling his pen around his fingers and looking at Maggie.
‘Do you know who Katy’s dad is?’ Maggie asks, looking straight at me.
I lean back, letting the notepad fall off my lap onto the sofa. ‘No,’ I whisper. I shake my head. ‘I don’t.’
‘Okay, Grace, but I need you to tell us if you do, because…’
‘Because what?’
‘A man has come forward willing to speak on the documentary. He’s claiming to be Katy’s dad.’
‘He can’t do that,’ I say. ‘No one can do that.’
‘That’s why we wanted to speak to you, to see if there’s any truth to it,’ Maggie says. ‘His name is Ian Walters. Is that name familiar to you?’
I swallow, my tongue pressing against my teeth. ‘Yes, but he isn’t…’
‘Are you sure?’ Lawrence says, abruptly.
‘Yes.’
‘We’re sorry to ask,’ Maggie adds.
‘I spoke to the police about this. I told them that Katy’s dad didn’t know she existed, and Katy never knew her dad. He isn’t involved.’
‘But it’s interesting.’ Lawrence says.
My hands fall to my sides in disbelief. I try and grab at my backpack, feeling around for my notepad.
Lawrence holds up his hands. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘I thought this was about Katy,’ I say, stuffing papers back into my bag.
‘It is,’ Maggie says forcefully, throwing Lawrence a look. ‘But we have to take this seriously. You understand? He could have found out he had a daughter, he could have come looking for her. You understand?’ she says again.
‘That’s not what happened.’
‘But how can we say for sure?’ Maggie says. ‘It’s just another avenue. You won’t have to interact or meet or even talk about Ian. We won’t ask you about Katy’s dad and if we do, you can tell us you don’t know, if that’s the truth, which I know it is.’
‘You really think someone could have come looking for Katy?’ I say. ‘Someone who thought he was Katy’s dad?’
‘It’s a possibility. I know the police didn’t look at those options at the time because, as you rightly say, neither was involved in each other’s life. The podcast, Finding Katy, only touches on it, but we have someone claiming to be her dad. It’s odd. And with that and the ex-boyfriend now willing to talk? We might get one step closer.’
‘That’s all I was trying to say.’ Lawrence smiles at me. He slaps his thighs. ‘How about we go for a nice lunch and we’ll talk you through the timeline and process a little more? So you know how production will work.’
‘It’ll all move quite quickly,’ Maggie says. ‘We plan to start shooting at the end of next week.’
Lawrence rises, straightening his blazer. ‘We were going to ask if you had any pictures and home videos of Katy you could share with us. Would that be possible?’
‘Yes, I have that.’
‘Great.’ He claps his hands. ‘Let’s go for lunch.’
Maggie sucks in her lips and gestures towards the door with an outstretched arm.
They wait for me to collect my things and follow me out the door. As we walk through the open-plan office everyone looks up from their desk, but Maggie and Lawrence don’t break stride, they sweep me along the aisle and out into reception.
They don’t give me a moment to hesitate.