is she, Stephen? Where is she?’ I paced the room, my voice strung out like an elastic band. I looked at the clock, counting the minutes since I had put the phone down to the police. ‘Why would she send a text saying she’s staying over with Keira and then…’ My voice cracked, the cancerous lie threatening to show on my face. ‘And then… not turn up?’ My hand rushed to my mouth and let out a long, drawn-out cry. ‘Why didn’t I check with Angela if she was there? Why didn’t I?’ I stopped and stared at Stephen, hoping he hadn’t spotted my lie. ‘Why didn’t you talk to her? Why didn’t you text her? You’re always in contact with Zoe.’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied, sorrow etched across his features. ‘I thought you had. Actually…’ He gave a shake to his head. ‘I didn’t think that. It just never occurred to me that this would happen.’ He pushed his hand through his hair. ‘It’s Chilcote, you know?’
I stared at him, unspeaking, guilt twisting at my heart. For every moment I had cried when she was a baby, I felt the leaden weight of it in times like this. Right now, I wanted to find her, bring her home and hold her tight. Never let her go. Never let her out of my sight ever again. I was filled with self-loathing at my inability to open up to Zoe, to tell her I loved her, but every time I went to say it, something held me back. The words were there – the power of my love for my daughter was unreal – but I couldn’t speak the words. Now, I thought of my own parents: they never once told me they loved me. Instead, I would watch my father lash out once again at my mother. It became the norm and now, I realised, my heart sinking, I was doing the same to my own daughter.
‘Our daughter’s missing. We should have been there for her.’ I started to circle the kitchen again. ‘You tried the village close? The shop?’
He nodded.
‘Where else might she be? That record store in town?’
‘At the end of the day, she could be anywhere. But she’s never ignored my texts before.’ He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. I noticed how tired he looked, like a man who hadn’t slept. ‘She spent the night somewhere. A whole night somewhere,’ he said, his voice tinged with despair. ‘She won’t be at the record store.’
‘How can you be so certain?’ I raised a brow.
A heavy silence sat between us before he said, ‘We just need the police to arrive.’
‘She has to be somewhere. Think, Stephen. Think.’ I paused. ‘She might have run away, like I said.’
‘But why?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted.
Stephen eyed me. ‘For no good reason? If a child ever runs away, I’d say that they’re trying to tell you they’re not happy about something.’
‘Well, you’re not happy living with me.’
‘And vice versa.’
‘Well, I don’t just run away, do I?’ I felt the familiar knotting in my stomach as I said the words. I wanted to take them back.
‘No, but we are not a vulnerable sixteen-year-old girl.’ His jaw tightened momentarily.
I remained silent, my heart beating wildly despite my sudden stillness.
‘Freya. Sit down.’ Stephen shifted in his chair and placed his hand firmly on the seat of the one next to it. ‘The police will be here soon. We’ll speak to them. You and I both know that this is not normal for Zoe, that she wouldn’t leave on a whim.’ His face hardened with worry.
I roughly brushed away the tears wetting my already tear-stained face. I felt sick, my stomach churning with a strange mixture of self-reproach and hate for the man in front of me who would never, could never, understand.
The doorbell rang and I rushed from the kitchen to the front door, pulling it wide open.
A broad-shouldered man, with an angular face, peppered grey hair and wearing a charcoal suit and white shirt, stood on the doorstep. ‘Dr Hall? DI Simon Carter, Senior Investigative Officer.’ He offered his hand.
I took it briefly and noticed how dry it felt next to my clammy one, and ushered him inside. ‘Come in.’ I led him through to the living room. ‘She’s been missing for hours, Detective,’ I said, unprompted. ‘At least, her best friend hasn’t seen her since Thursday and she’s not replying to our texts.’
He nodded, took out a notepad and biro and perched on the edge of the sofa. ‘If I could just be sure that we have the right details on the system? Let’s start at the beginning. What’s your daughter’s full name and age?’
‘I’ve already told you,’ I rushed, deciding not to sit down. ‘Her name’s Zoe Hall, she’s sixteen, goes to Burford College. Her best friend, Keira, saw her on Thursday but she said Zoe was ill and never turned up to college yesterday.’ I paused. ‘She phoned a couple of hours ago asking after Zoe as they had arranged to go into Oxford today, apparently.’ I stopped suddenly, aware of how ridiculously foolish I sounded. ‘What do you want to know?’
He frowned. ‘When did you notice her missing? You talk as if you haven’t seen her for days.’
Stephen joined us, briefly shaking hands with the officer.
I ignored him and ploughed on. ‘Hours. She’s been gone hours.’ I perched on the opposite armrest on the sofa and met his eye. ‘I thought she was at a friend’s house, so she could have been missing for hours.’
‘It’s the first twenty-four hours that are crucial, so you did the right thing getting in touch,’ he said. ‘But I must ask you again, when did you actually last lay eyes on your daughter?’
‘Yes, Freya,’ Stephen said, turning on me, ‘when did you?’
I heard the accusatory tone in his voice and I swallowed hard.
‘Thursday evening,’ I said quietly.
‘So you didn’t see your daughter for the whole of yesterday?’
I nodded. ‘That’s right.’
Stephen looked at me. ‘Why didn’t you see her yesterday morning before college? She was ill, apparently, Freya. You should have…’ His words trailed off.
‘I had to leave early to go to the office, get some papers marked before a seminar.’ I pushed Robert from my mind.
‘I take it you’ve phoned around her friends and your own friends?’ said the DI.
We nodded.
‘Checked out her favourite…’
‘Places to go? Yes,’ I interrupted, impatient.
‘Is this normal behaviour?’ The DI continued to jot notes in his pad, even though I felt there was nothing worth noting down yet.
‘Normal behaviour?’ I cast my eyes towards Stephen. ‘If it were, we probably wouldn’t have needed to phone you, would we? So, no, it’s not normal behaviour. I spoke to her from the office on Friday and she asked to stay at Keira’s on Friday night.’
I
