Where the Missing Go(83)

But I’ve got to keep him here, as long as I can, or he’ll be after her, it will all be for nothing – the thought courses through me, as he hunches over me, he’s so close to me now, his breath hot in my face, and yes – I jerk my head up, hard against his nose, I feel something breaking. There is something hot and wet spilling out over my face, and I twist underneath him, getting one arm free, just for a second, and I throw it out, grasping, my fingers reaching blindly for a rock, something, anything, but there’s nothing, just the cold, bare floor. He’s silent, his eyes staring, his fingers back round my throat, even tighter …

And suddenly it’s there, the knife, I don’t know where it comes from, I threw it away with no thought of using it. But it’s here now, and I can’t believe this is happening, it’s almost like I’m removed, watching it from outside myself, but I see it slide in, between his ribs, before he knows it.

He groans. And now the liquid heat is spreading between our bodies, shockingly warm. He’s so heavy, and his fingers are still at my throat, but easing now, the pressure weakening. And then suddenly I can roll him, I can push him off me entirely; I can scrabble up from under him.

His eyes are glazed with shock, as he looks up, still not understanding what’s happened, until he slowly puts his hand where the knife went in, close to his heart.

The blood is dark on the floor, already soaking into the earth.





46


We’re outside. From far away I hear the wail of a siren. It’s dark now, the rain a drizzle, washing me clean. I’ve never felt more free. I feel fine, more than fine, untethered from the world, probably better than I should, still riding a wave of adrenaline and energy. She’s here, she’s here, my whole body is thrilling with the knowledge, but she’s in a bad way, I can see. My daughter is twisting her hands beside me, the tape bunching into rope but holding strong, and I know what I must do. I go back inside, and I pick up the knife, I wipe it on my jeans, then I cut the tape open, so carefully, making sure not to touch her skin. ‘Shh, it’s OK. It’s OK.’ Gently as I can, I pull the tape off her mouth, her hands fluttering over mine. The skin is raw underneath, her lips dry.

‘Mum.’ Her voice is thin with fear. I hug her. The siren’s closer now, the pitch getting higher.

‘Sophie. It’s OK, Sophie. It’s going to be OK. Let’s go.’ I start walking, propping her up, still hugging her – and holding her. I can feel her weight, solid in my arms, I can smell her hair, but she’s shaking and then she pulls back, her eyes wild, her mouth an open scream.

She manages to get it out: ‘Mum. He’s got Teddy. He’s got Teddy.’

For a moment I can’t understand. He’s got Teddy, she’s saying, over and over. And I just can’t get it, I’m imagining her stuffed toy. ‘Teddy? But that’s all right, Sophie, we’ll get you another one …’ She’s in shock, I think she must be, after what’s happened. She’s like a child again, wanting her teddy.

But she stops me, grabs me, surprisingly strong.

‘No, Mum, no. He took him, Teddy. He took my baby. My baby.’ Her voice is rising, desperate and thin. ‘What’s he done with him? What’s he done with Teddy?’

I’m stunned for a moment, before the understanding comes in a rush. And then it’s like the knowledge is already there.

‘Sophie, I know. I know where Teddy will be.’

We take his car, the keys still in the ignition.

‘He hasn’t taken him anywhere,’ I say. ‘If he’s – safe, I know where he’ll be.’

The journey there takes just minutes, but it feels like longer. I start to pray, holding Sophie’s hand as I drive. We don’t talk: there are no words now. Dear God, please please … I can’t shape the thoughts, until we pull up outside the cottage. I run in.

‘Lily,’ I call, pushing the door open. ‘Lily!’ There’s no answer.

Maybe I got this wrong. I rush through to the back, to her living room. Sophie’s behind me already, breathing too fast, half-sobbing. Maybe I—

And there’s Lily, bending over, in the corner, by the window. She straightens up and smiles, a big, beaming smile.

‘Oh, Kate,’ she says. ‘Just in time for tea.’

She drops a hand, a gentle pat on the head of the small figure clutching at her skirt. ‘Now careful of those sticky hands, darling. Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. Kate, meet my lovely little boy.’





47


SOPHIE


So now you know. When he told me about the house, that he knew somewhere I could go, so they wouldn’t split us up, it felt like it was meant to be. And the situation had just got so … big, so terrifying, so quickly.

He’d come to give a talk at school, about careers in medicine, at the beginning of the school year. I only went because Holly was interested. But I stayed behind afterwards, just to say hello. And then he suggested I come see him at the surgery one time, on my own. Reception didn’t think anything of it when I said I wanted to book in with him myself. I didn’t tell anyone. He was my doctor, after all.

But I liked him. And very soon he went from Dr Heath, to just Nick. He wasn’t like my parents or any of their friends, or like any of the teachers. He didn’t talk to me in the same way at all. He talked to me like a grown-up. It was exciting.