I went straight to bed last night. Too exhausted and confused by what I’d seen. I thought I was the one with all the answers the public wanted, every answer except where Katy was. But now, I feel like I know nothing about my daughter, that ten years have passed and I’m still learning half-truths about what happened the day she disappeared.
I feel as if I’m reliving it, every police interview, every phone call telling me they’d found something and then it turned out to be nothing.
I never realised until last night how much I desperately want it to be over. Not for closure, I don’t think I’ll ever get that, but because I’d built a new life of sorts. One that was manageable day to day, not always easy, but manageable. Now I’m being thrown back into the deep end and I don’t have the energy to tread water, my feet don’t brush against the bottom of the pool like they used to, there is no sign of respite from this.
I am drowning.
I’m sitting on the sofa, staring at the black TV screen, wondering how I can watch another episode. I can’t put myself through this again. The show has been recorded, produced, shared with the police. It is done. But it is not the show I thought it was, it is not what they sent over a few months before it aired, this is different. It has been edited and changed and manipulated into something I don’t recognise. Large parts about Katy’s life, her career, her childhood, the beauty of who she was has gone, they’ve cut it all out. The monologues from myself and those closest to her imploring people to listen to the real problems women face walking home alone. All of it has been edited out, replaced by footage I’ve never seen before.
My phone vibrates against my thigh and I reach for it reluctantly. It’s Detective Lane. I don’t want to answer it; he isn’t who I thought he was. He never told me everything and I had a right to know everything. Maybe I could have put this to bed a long time ago, but he didn’t give me that choice. Now I have to see him on TV tell an audience something he never told me.
I answer the phone. ‘What was she working on?’ I say.
‘Hi, Grace,’ he replies.
‘You warned me not to watch it, didn’t you? Because I’d see this, and I’d know you lied to me all those years ago.’
‘I didn’t lie to you. I didn’t think it was relevant.’
I stand up. ‘Everything is relevant,’ I cry.
He’s silent. ‘We did follow up with NTV, we were given the story, we were told who the source was, it was all disclosed to us, and it all turned out to be nothing. I couldn’t tell you because Katy had sworn to protect her source and we couldn’t afford for this to get out.’
‘But it is out.’
‘It is, the story was reported a few years later by a news station in London.’
‘Why didn’t you say anything then?’
‘Because we’d stopped actively looking into the case by then, there was no use in digging it all back up. You seemed to be doing better, I thought it would just reopen old wounds.’
‘Old wounds?’ I shout. ‘You think I ever healed from this?’
He doesn’t say a word. ‘It was nothing, it was just a news story Katy was working on at the time.’
‘She asked Professor Travis about protection. That doesn’t sound like nothing.’
‘It was an assault case involving a local restaurant owner. I promise you, Grace, it had nothing to do with Katy’s disappearance.’
‘How can you be sure?’
He sighs. ‘We were thorough.’
‘Sounds like it,’ I say, spitefully. ‘I have to go, but before I do, are there any other surprises I should know about?’
‘No, not that I’m aware, but you should speak to Maggie.’
I hang up before he has the chance to say goodbye and before I say something I regret.
I compose myself. Taking a sip of tea and pacing the room before I decide to call Maggie. She said she’d make time for me today, but I don’t anticipate her picking up. I clutch my phone and see the email symbol in the corner, I click on it wondering if it’s her making another excuse for why she can’t speak to me today. It’s from the forum site, a message saying I’ve been added to a private chat.
I pace back to the sofa and open my laptop. There’s a red notification in the top right, a private group. It takes me through to another forum, but this time, there’s a little padlock on the top of it next to the name KATY’S DETECTIVES OG.
IN_THE_SHADOWS
I made a new group to get away from all the craziness, this is private
LAINDON24
Good idea, wtf was that
IN_THE_SHADOWS
I kept the old group open in case anyone had information over the years, I wanted it to be a safe space, but watching what it turned into…
AMA
Yeah, reminds me of the beginning
LAINDON24
Does kinda feel like the beginning doesn’t it
IN_THE_SHADOWS
I don’t believe what G saying about K
LAINDON24
Yeah and why say it?
AMA
Her poor mum
IN_THE_SHADOWS
Yeah I’ve never seen her on screen before, so sad, she looks heartbroken
LAINDON24
Wouldn’t you be?
IN_THE_SHADOWS
The documentary didn’t cover new ground, it just injected about a billion new rumours
LAINDON24
We have to cut through that
AMA
How?
IN_THE_SHADOWS
Can’t believe they’re leaving each episode on a cliffhanger and they’re giving G such airtime
LAINDON24
He’s the star of the show
AMA
It’s supposed to be K
I pause. The message has only just been sent. It looks like they’re online, but they’re always online.
REDTURTLE
It’s not right
LAINDON24
RT! We thought we’d lost you, you said you thought it was someone else, not one of the suspects, what do you think now?
REDTURTLE
I don’t know what to think
LAINDON24
It’s like Finding Katy, it’s all garbage, no substance
REDTURTLE
If you could ask Graham anything, what would you ask him?
IN_THE_SHADOWS
Good question. I’d ask him why they broke up?
AMA
That was just a rumour
IN_THE_SHADOWS
Maybe so, but I believe they did, that bad fight they had, I think it was more than that
REDTURTLE
Then why did she want to see him that night
IN_THE_SHADOWS
We’ve been over this, he was a junior prosecutor, I refuse to believe that doesn’t have something to do with it
LAINDON24
Hard agree. He could offer advice, that’s what she was seeking from English Prof
AMA
I never thought of that
REDTURTLE
I hadn’t either…
I close the laptop, feeling better for having spoken to them, seeing their words. I don’t know anything about them beyond the conversations we’ve had in the forums about Katy, but there’s some comfort in them, the way they’re happy to hear from me. I’ve never felt like they tried to exploit Katy’s disappearance, they only ever tried to work it out, like a puzzle. It eases me to see them condemn what others have said, to defend Katy, to call her K, to want her back too.
They’re unlike Maggie and Lawrence, who just want to use Katy’s name and then discard her. Who want to make her life and disappearance a drama. I press call on Maggie’s name.
‘Grace? Two seconds, bear with me,’ she answers. There are muffled voices and some distant laughing, a door closes, before I hear her voice clearly. ‘Sorry I couldn’t get back to you yesterday, it’s been so manic here. Have you spoken to Detective Lane?’
‘I have,’ I say, coldly.
‘We’ve already had tons of people get in touch saying they might have information. We’re passing it all on, of course, but—’ She sounds excited, and it hurts.
‘I’m not happy with the show,’ I say.
She’s quiet for a moment, before she stutters, bewilderedly, ‘Not happy, why?’
‘It’s not what we discussed, it’s not about Katy, it’s making her look like…’ I search for the word, but I can’t find it, or I don’t want to use it.
‘No, no, Grace, dear, I’m so sorry you feel this way.’
‘It’s giving a platform to people who don’t deserve to speak,’ I say.
She stifles a snort and says evenly. ‘I think everyone involved should get to speak. This is exactly the show we set out to make and the one we pitched to you.’ She sounds corporate, like she’s picked up a laminated folder or PR jargon she should say to me right now, and she’s delivering it like a script.
‘No, this is wrong. You’re letting them spread lies about Katy.’
‘They’re telling their truth, in the hopes we can find the truth,’ she says. ‘Didn’t you hear me earlier? We’ve gotten so many tips. This is a good thing, Grace, more than we could have hoped for.’
‘You mean the views are more than you could have hoped for.’
She’s quiet. ‘I have to go, Grace, but I’ll be in touch later in the week.’
‘Is there anything else I should know?’ I ask.
‘Nothing that we haven’t told you,’ she says bluntly. ‘Bye, Grace, speak soon.’
She hangs up and I wonder if we will speak soon, or if this is the end of our communication and anything that happens from now on will be fed back to me through Detective Lane, just how it used to be.
My phone lights up once more with Joanna’s name, but I can’t speak to her right now. She’ll be positive and want to come over to cheer me up. She’ll bring a cake and make tea and it’ll make it seem so trivial, but it isn’t. I storm to my office, taking my laptop with me, clearing space for my tea. I open the windows for fresh air and Juniper immediately jumps in. Her fluffy cheeks brush against my own and I pull her into me, sobbing uncontrollably whilst she lets me. I release her and she jumps down, meeping quietly for her breakfast.
‘In a minute, June, I have to do something first.’
At my laptop, I bring up Facebook, staring at the login screen, struggling to remember what my password is. Katy was hot on things like that, always making sure my logins were secure, but she would have saved it for me somewhere. I click around folders until I see a note doc titled ‘Silly Mum’. When I open it up, it’s a list of all the passwords for my accounts, ones I haven’t accessed for years. I select Facebook and copy and paste over the information, relieved and sad at the memory of my daughter.
‘I knew that would come in useful,’ Katy says, leaning against the wall by her old wardrobe. ‘Better than Password123.’
‘I’m old,’ I say.
‘Don’t use age as an excuse, Mum, that’s unbecoming.’
I laugh. ‘No, you’re right, it was a cheap excuse.’
‘What are you going to do on Facebook?’
‘Make a statement.’
‘About me?’
‘Of course about you. Do you know what people are saying about you, Katy? It’s disgusting.’
‘Don’t be this person, Mum, don’t be full of hate.’
I turn to look at her, but she isn’t there, she never is.
The main page pops up, but it’s different, all the icons have changed and there’s a sidebar filled with bright red notifications. I’m not sure where to click, but there are hundreds of messages and friend requests and thousands of comments. My profile picture is still one of me and Katy and all my latest statuses are asking anyone with any information to come forward. After that, there’s nothing.
I click on notifications and scroll briefly through the comments, but it’s all the same. ‘Sending all my love and sympathies’, ‘you’re in our prayers’, ‘I hope she’s found safely.’
Some are old, some are new, but there are years’ worth of comments and messages and I don’t know where to begin. I click on my status and start typing out my first post in years. ‘I’m speaking up because Katy doesn’t have the voice to, I’m devastated at—’
A message pops up in the right-hand corner. It says, ‘Hi, Grace’ but I can’t see the rest, but the name above it… I know that name. I click it before it can disappear, and it brings up a box with the full message. It reads:
Hi Grace,
I’ve been trying to reach you. I need to speak to you about Katy. It’s urgent.
Can we meet?
Peter Thomas
Peter Thomas. The young man she worked with at NTV, the one accused of having an obsession with her. I saw him at a vigil we held for Katy in the month after she went missing. He looked at me through the crowd, desperate, sad eyes searching mine. He was so small, too small to be involved, surely? I hadn’t felt threatened by him, I pitied him. But pity can be cruel. It can be misplaced.
I stare at the message, before typing back.
‘Where?’