Finding Grace(31)

‘Something like what?’ He stares at me.

‘Like if you were… I don’t know, hiding something from me.’ The wads of cash in his desk drawer fill my mind’s eye.

‘Christ!’ He claps a hand to his forehead. ‘Is that what you really think of me, Luce?’

Oscar grumbles and I jiggle him in my arms.

‘No! I… It’s just with you changing your mind, offering to go to the station with them, I just—’

‘I wanted to take the pressure off you a bit, that’s all. You look exhausted. I know you’re fragile, Lucie, and if truth be known, I’m scared you’ll go under again.’

‘I’m already under!’ I snap. ‘Finding out you’ve been lying to me is only going to make things a hundred times worse, if that’s even possible.’

I feel like screaming at him, like I’m about to lose it. I clamp my back teeth together and look away.

‘Lucie, I don’t know why you’re going on about this, but it’s not helping. I’m not hiding anything.’

His outright lie fills me with fury, but I’m mindful that Fiona is lurking. Blowing his secret wide open could damage us irreparably and take focus from the investigation into what has happened to Grace.

With great effort, I try and reason with him.

‘Nobody changes their mind in the space of a few minutes like you did. One minute you’re refusing to go to the station, the next, you’re volunteering. I’m not an idiot, Blake. I’m asking you, giving you a chance to explain why—’

‘I’ve told you. I just wanted to protect you from their probing questions, that’s all.’ He sighs and looks at his hands.

Out in the hall, Fiona’s phone rings. She’s definitely still out there, hanging on our conversation. A bolt of fury zips through me.

‘It’s driving me crazy, her hanging around all the time. I think she’s here to spy on us. She’s not actually adding anything to finding out where Grace is.’

‘Fiona’s a valuable link to what’s happening out there, Luce. If they find Grace, then we’ll know immediately rather than having to wait for—’

He takes sleeping Oscar gently from my arms and holds him. My arm aches from holding him so close but I immediately miss his soothing warmth and presence.

‘She could be out there searching with the other coppers, instead of just sitting in here making fucking tea.’

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Fiona says from the doorway.

Our heads both jerk up, sudden hope bright in our eyes. ‘Your GP is on his way; he’ll be here in five minutes.’ She presses her lips together and, finally, heads to the kitchen.

I slump down into a chair. I realise Fiona probably heard what I said, but who cares? It doesn’t matter.

Nothing in this world matters except finding Grace.

I stare out of the window, wondering how the light had faded so fast.

‘Grace doesn’t like the dark,’ I say faintly.

Even though, on the one hand, she tells us how grown-up she is now she is nine, our daughter still insists on having the night light on, bathing her bedroom in a dim starlit glow.

‘Don’t think about it, Luce.’ Blake supports Oscar in one arm and reaches for my hand, and I see that regardless of the fact that it’s futile, he too has closed his eyes against any thoughts of Grace being in a place where she is suffering and afraid.

Somehow, we both understand that we can’t voice these things.

Just in case it makes it so.

I try to pull my hand away but he holds it tight. Despite my suspicions and my discovery of the money upstairs, I let him.

Tensions are high. We’re both dying inside; we’re right on the edge. We just need our baby back.

There’s no sense in us tearing each other apart.





Twenty-Two





Fiona shows Dr Mahmoud into the living room. Dad takes Oscar into the other room and nods his own greeting as he passes.

The doctor is a small, squat man with a perennial smile. He’s been my children’s GP for the whole of their lives and he knows Grace particularly well, as she’s a regular visitor to the health centre due to her diabetes.

‘I am very sorry to meet here with you both under such terrible circumstances,’ he says gravely before sitting down in Blake’s proffered chair. ‘Myself and my wife, we are both praying for the safe return of Grace.’ His toothy smile is tinged with sadness and compassion.

‘Thank you, Doctor,’ I say gratefully. ‘It’s a terrible situation only made worse by Grace’s condition.’

‘Of course, this is certainly a worry. I have spoken to the detective leading the investigation and explained my concerns regarding Grace’s diabetes. I understand she has her blood sugar monitor and insulin on her person?’

Blake nods. ‘She was at her friend’s house and they made sure she had her medication with her when she left there.’

‘But what if she can’t use it? What if someone’s taken it or…’ The words choke in my throat, and in the end, I find I can’t voice the dreadful possibility. I bite the inside of my lip viciously in an effort to keep the tears at bay.

‘Please be honest with us,’ Blake says, so pleadingly I want to hug him despite his deceit. ‘What are the real risks if Grace can’t access her medication?’