Cross Her Heart(71)
When Marilyn asked me, later last night when all the quiet talking was done, what I thought Katie wanted from all this, I lied. I said she wanted what I’d promised. That we’d run away together. Be free and on the run all at the same time. I don’t know if she believed me but she didn’t say any more. What could she say? Katie isn’t real to her, she’s just a bogeyman. A wicked figure from my past. And maybe she is, but back then, she ruined me and saved me all at once. Those days before were some of the best days of my childhood. How can I ever explain it? How I’d never loved anyone like I loved Katie and how I’d never been loved by anyone the way Katie loved me? How precious it is to be loved in this mess of life. I close the door on those memories, running hand in hand across the wasteland, but I remember the deal. The intensity of her gaze. Yes, I know what Katie wants. She wants to kill me. I owe her. A mother for a mother.
Maybe she will kill me. As long as Ava is safe, I don’t care what happens to me. In some ways, it would be a relief. Justice for Daniel and freedom from the heavy constant guilt that has become my lifetime companion. At least he wouldn’t be alone in the cold any more. So, yes, maybe she will kill me, and I’m not scared by the thought. I feel Charlotte’s steel in my backbone as I go to the bathroom. I may not be afraid to die, but I don’t intend to make it easy for her. Maybe I’ll kill her. I’ve already killed once. How hard can it be to do again?
By eight I’m showered and dressed and staring at our notes. We’ve got very little to go on with Katie. Never married. No kids. Cared for her mother. Fragile. No job. There were also no photos of any use. She could be anyone in them. She’s a few months older than me, so around forty now, but the few pictures we found were so grainy and so old, they’re no help.
I wonder about the lack of images. Did she hide from cameras, like me? Even though her identity had never been revealed – the papers never had her name or photo – did she worry the world would somehow know and she’d be guilty by association? No, I realise. It was always for this moment. For when she could find me. She needed to stay a ghost, invisible and unknown. She needed to stay hidden as much as me.
I sip the strong coffee. Well, she found me and now I’m going to find her. The circle of fucking life. I crave a cigarette – Charlotte once more coming to the fore, old habits dying hard – but instead I pick up a pen and chew on the lid, like a child, as I start to write.
The list of names is depressingly short. My life as Lisa has been private; fearful and small.
Penny. Highly unlikely. Julia. Not her. I list the various other people I come into contact with through work and none of them strike me as potentials. Too old, too young, been there too long, too dull. Mrs Goldman? Does she have a nurse or friend who comes to see her? I’ve never seen anyone but her family and they don’t visit often. Someone perhaps when I’m out at work? I put lots of question marks next to her name. Maybe Marilyn can go and talk to her. She’s a lonely old woman, she would talk easily.
Under the heading ‘Ava’s teachers’ I start a new list, but from the names I remember from parents’ evenings I can’t see anyone on it who’s new to the school or who has overly befriended her. A teacher would probably be able to get into her bag to steal her keys. And they’d know where we lived. They’re all possible, but it doesn’t feel right. Teachers have background checks, degrees, etc. How much could Katie fake? Don’t underestimate her, I tell myself. She was always too clever for her own good.
Ava’s friends go under another heading. This is the biggest grey area. I have done my best to know as much as I can about her life, but as she’s grown older it’s been harder. Alison was constantly telling me I had to let her be a normal teenager. Well, so much for that, fuck you very much, Mrs Probation Officer. Secret Facebook messages. How many people did Ava know who I never met? People who could learn about me through her?
The swim club girls I know, and I cross them off my list. Katie didn’t have any children and there are no wicked stepmothers newly arrived on the scene. I’d have heard.
I stare at the page, stumped. She found me through Jon. Maybe I should start with him. Go there and talk to his neighbours. I know I can’t as soon as I have the thought. The police will be all over his place and any woman turning up and asking questions will get picked up straight away. I wish I had Marilyn’s phone. At least I’d be able to look up news reports on him. See if there’s anything we’ve missed that’s not showing on the TV.
The list blurs before my eyes I’m concentrating so hard. Katie, Katie, where art thou? She wants you to find her, Charlotte reminds me. This is a game. She won’t be a total stranger. There will be clues. Something jars in my memory and I frown. Something I really need to remember.
And then I see it. Plain as day. I know who Katie is.
58
HER
It’s hard to disappear completely. I should know. I’ve done it several times. You have to plan. A lot. And well in advance. Small amounts of money moved around at first. Yes, there may be paper trails, but generate enough paper and it causes a mess that no one can be bothered to dig through. Most of planning is waiting. I’ve become very good at waiting. My mother finally died – some accidents happen more easily than others if you use a drunk mechanic to fix something – and I put my plans for my carefully invested inheritance into action.