The Lies We Told(44)
A man by the bar went over to the jukebox and within moments the soulful strains of a Joan Armatrading song filled the room.
‘What are they like now,’ Emily asked, ‘my mum and dad? I’ve tried so hard to imagine them over the years; to picture them as time passed, but it’s difficult after so long.’
Clara stared down at her drink as she thought how to answer. ‘Before Luke went missing they were … happy, in a way, I guess. But you must know that they never got over you leaving. How could they? They don’t talk about you because it’s too painful, but I know that they think of you every day.’
‘I had to go,’ Emily said, her voice so low now, Clara had to strain to hear her. ‘I had no choice.’
Clara nodded, desperate for an explanation but knowing better than to push for it again and, her gaze falling to the photos in her hand, asked, ‘Don’t you have one of Tom?’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘No, I don’t have a picture of Tom.’ And there was something in her tone that made Clara stare at her in surprise, but before she could speak Emily asked quietly. ‘Do you see him ever?’
‘No – that is, only now and then. He lives in Norwich, so … but, um, he’s well, I think. I mean he seems quite well. Desperately worried for Luke too, of course, but …’
The barman came over at that moment and wiped down their table, and they waited until he’d finished. ‘Tell me about Luke,’ Emily asked when he’d gone. ‘Have the police any idea what happened to him? Is there any news at all?’
Slowly, while the bar filled up around them, Clara told her everything that had happened since Luke’s disappearance: the threatening emails she’d found, the breakins, the police enquiry that had so far come to nothing. ‘Mac – that’s Luke’s friend – and I have decided to try and find out who it might be who hates Luke enough to do all these things,’ Clara said, describing their visit to Amy and the list of women they had yet to see.
Emily listened to her with rapt attention and when she’d finished, gave Clara a sad smile. ‘I could tell, when I saw you on the news, how much you love my brother. And I bet he loves you too. I bet he loves you so much.’
An unwelcome picture of Sadie’s face flashed before Clara’s eyes but she pushed it away. ‘I just wish I knew what had happened to him,’ she said. ‘To vanish into thin air … it’s …’ she shook her head.
‘It must be so hard for you.’
They were silent for a moment, then Emily asked, ‘You were talking about my parents. Be honest with me: are they coping, do you think?’
Clara considered this. ‘They’re strong people, and they’re trying to stay positive, but yes, they’re deeply upset. I don’t think they’re sleeping or eating properly, and I have to admit I’m worried for them.’
Emily nodded, and after a moment Clara said cautiously, ‘I’m sorry, but I have to ask because it might help us find Luke. I can’t help thinking … it’s such a coincidence that first you disappeared, and now Luke, too … I thought maybe the two might be linked. They’re not, though, are they? I mean, they can’t possibly be …?’
Emily’s gaze held Clara’s for a beat or two, her expression unreadable. ‘Is that what my parents think too?’
Clara shook her head in surprise. ‘I don’t know.’
Emily looked away. ‘No,’ she said. ‘They aren’t linked.’
Just then, a group of men in business suits came through the door on a wave of noise and cold air. It was dark in the street now. The lights inside the bar burned brighter, the atmosphere deepening into something more raucous and drunken. Emily glanced nervously around her. ‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘I’ve stayed too long. I have to get back …’
‘So soon?’ Clara asked in dismay.
‘I’m sorry.’ Emily got up. ‘I have a very long journey.’
‘But where are you going back to?’ Clara asked desperately, getting to her feet too. ‘Where do you live?’
She turned away without answering, and Clara picked up her things and hurried after her into the street. They stopped and regarded each other. ‘I’d like to meet you again – if you want to?’ Emily said.
‘Yes,’ said Clara eagerly. ‘Yes, please. You can message me anytime.’
At this Emily reached over and surprised her by taking both her hands in hers. ‘Clara, I can trust you, can’t I?’ she said. ‘When I saw you on the news, I felt I could trust you. I wasn’t wrong, was I?’
She shook her head, unable to look away from Emily’s gaze, its quiet intensity reminding her suddenly so much of Tom. ‘No,’ she said, ‘you weren’t wrong.’ Then, as she watched, Emily pulled her hood up so that it half obscured her face. She looked around her, shooting quick, nervous glances at passers-by. ‘I better go,’ she said. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ and without another word she set off, slipping away through the crowd. Clara watched her go, adrenalin shooting through her now their meeting was over. But then something strange caught her eye. Just before she lost sight of Emily completely, Clara saw, or thought she saw, someone who looked very much like Mac. He was walking not far behind Emily – in fact, as Clara strained to see, it almost looked as though the two were in step, as if, in fact, they were walking side by side. A moment later they turned off down a side street and disappeared, swallowed by the London night.