Losing You by Nicci French Read Free Book Online Page B

Advertising’ and ‘Political Organisations’. Finally I found a whole page of police numbers. There were numbers for recruitment, a drugs-crackdown hotline,abnormal loads. There was a gay and lesbian helpline, victim support, Crimestoppers, ChildLine, domestic violence. You could even report a crime online. I ran my thumbnail down the page and found the number for the service desk for Sandling Island.
    Unbelievably, the party in my house was still going on, like an organism that refused to die whatever was done to it. I retreated with the phone into the utility room that led off the kitchen, and shut the door behind me. A female voice answered and I realized I hadn’t considered precisely what I was going to say.
    ‘This may sound stupid,’ I said. ‘I think my daughter may be missing.’
    The woman stopped me right there and took my name and address, then Charlie’s full name and age. She didn’t sound impressed by my answers.
    ‘How long has your daughter been missing?’
    ‘It’s difficult to put it like that. She was staying with a friend last night, but she was due back a couple of hours ago and…’
    ‘A couple of hours? And she’s fifteen years old? I’d really give it a bit longer than that.’
    ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘I know it doesn’t sound like much time but something’s gone wrong. We’re due to go away on holiday. We’re supposed to be leaving before one and it’s twenty to twelve now. She knows about that, she’s excited about it. She had to get back – she had to pack her things. It’s not just that. She organized a surprise party for me this morning but she didn’t turn up at it. Why would that be? Something’s happened.’
    ‘She’s probably been held up.’
    ‘Of course she’s been held up,’ I said. ‘The question is, what has held her up? What if it’s something serious?’
    We were locked in a battle of wills. I didn’t know who this woman was. Was she a policewoman? Was she a receptionist? I could tell she wanted me to go away and wait for the problem to sort itself out. But I wasn’t going to go away. I stayed on the line, argued and insisted, and finally she asked me to wait. She had her hand over the receiver and I heard her muffled voice asking somebody something. When she came back on the line, she told me that an officer would drop round to see what was happening.
    ‘Soon,’ I said. ‘If anything has happened to Charlie it’s urgent. Time is very important.’
    I only ended the conversation when the woman had agreed that the officer would be with me in a few minutes. Now I had to wait for the police to arrive. What did I do in the meantime? I couldn’t just stand there. I had to finish my packing. I could throw out the last of my so-called guests. No. All that could wait. Charlie was all that mattered. Was there anything productive I could do before the police came?
    I opened the door. A teenager I didn’t recognize was opening my fridge. She looked round at me unconcernedly.
    ‘The newsagent on The Street,’ I said. ‘Do you know what it’s called?’
    She paused, a carton of orange juice in her hand. ‘Walton’s,’ she said, and poured juice into a glass.
    I found the name in the phone book and rang it. ‘Hello,’ I said, when a woman answered. ‘Mrs Walton?’
    ‘No,’ said the woman.
    ‘But this is Walton’s?’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘My name is Nina Landry. I’m Charlotte’s mother. Did she do her paper round this morning?’
    ‘I think so.’
    ‘Didn’t you see her?’
    ‘Gerry,’ the woman shouted, ‘who did the papers this morning?’
    I heard a voice say something I couldn’t make out.
    ‘Yes,’ said the woman. ‘She did them.’
    ‘What time did she get there?’
    ‘That was before I arrive. Probably between nine and nine thirty. That’s when she usually comes.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    I rang off. Was this good or bad news? She had been around, but that was hours ago. Suddenly it became clear. My soon-to-be-ex-husband.