S is for Stranger (2 page)

‘Mummy? You’re scaring me. Who are you following?’

‘That woman you saw. I don’t know who she is. No one, I expect. No one,’ I murmured, but there was something about her. Was it her hair or something about her face that made my skin prickle? Unease washed over me as I tried to push away the fleeting images of Bethany skipping through my mind. ‘I just wanted to find out if the woman you saw thought she knew us,’ I said, aware of Amy’s frightened eyes on me.

‘But the woman I was talking about headed down to the Tube.’ She looked momentarily perplexed, but then, and not for the first time, gave me an encouraging smile; my daughter had taken on the role of mother. ‘Can we go to Claire’s now?’

‘Of course,’ I agreed, but I was distracted, because I thought I had seen the woman walking fast along the street. I shook my head, gave a small shrug of my shoulders and smiled. ‘Come on then. Let’s get that charm bracelet, shall we?’

She nodded and we moved off, me inwardly counting the cracks in the pavement: three, six, nine. I looked over my shoulder just as we went to round the corner and gasped aloud as I stepped on the tenth crack. Amy hadn’t noticed as she hurtled toward the shops, but I looked behind me once more. The woman had most definitely gone, but the knot in the pit of my stomach hadn’t.

CHAPTER 2

One month later

The twenty yards or so separating us gave me time to put my sunglasses on and take a deep, cleansing breath. I hadn’t slept for more than a couple of hours, worried about spending a day with Paul. I couldn’t remember the last time we had been together, the three of us. Perhaps this was the first time in three years. Sure, he was there when I picked Amy up on a Saturday but, otherwise, we kept our distance.

Soon, my anxiety was quashed by children’s squeals of delight, the smell of candyfloss and the warm, comforting heat of October sunshine and, I thought, how bad could it be? I spotted Paul and Amy stood on the corner of Acton Green and quickened my pace. Despite setting out early, the Tube had been on go-slow.

‘Sophie, nice of you to make it.’ Paul looked at his watch.

‘The Tube. Signalling problems.’

‘You should’ve set out earlier.’

I turned to Amy. ‘Hello, darling.’

‘Hi.’ She smiled up at me. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘Thank you. Getting pretty old, huh?’ She laughed momentarily before running off. ‘Even in a month she changes, doesn’t she?’

‘Children do that.’

‘Here are the tickets.’ I opened my wallet and handed the small pink slips to Paul. ‘I bought them online to save queuing.’

We walked in silence and joined Amy at the entrance. Paul handed the tickets to the official before Amy ran off again.

‘Ames, wait up,’ I called out.

‘Amy!’ Paul tried this time, jogging after her.

Amy turned around. ‘Yeah?’ she shouted.

‘Slow down there, cowgirl,’ he said breathlessly and hugged her close, kissing the top of her head. The gesture made me tense; my stomach churned up.

I walked fast to catch up.

‘Come on, let’s go!’ Amy skipped about in front of us, eager to explore.

‘What do you want to go on first?’ Paul asked.

‘The rollercoaster,’ she said, without pause for thought.

‘OK, you’re going to have to count me out.’ I put my hands in the air in mock-surrender. ‘Unless you want a very ill Mummy on your hands.’

‘I’ll take her then,’ Paul said, shooting me a look. ‘One of us has to be with her.’

‘How about I take you on the teacup ride later, Amy?’

‘OK, but the rollercoaster first.’ She rolled her eyes.

‘Right.’ I cleared my throat. ‘I’ll go and get a bottle of water then. You guys want anything?’

They shook their heads and started toward the rollercoaster. I spent the next ten minutes wandering through the crowds before I stopped to buy a bottle of Evian. The rollercoaster stood some way off in the distance and I could just about make out Paul and Amy taking off their belts and dismounting the ride, chatting happily. To my alarm, Paul pointed to the ground and walked off. Amy stood obediently next to the ride and I tried to catch her attention with a wave but she didn’t see me.

I dodged a pram as it mowed its way across my path and walked straight through a gaggle of teenagers shouting over the top of my head. The fairground was swollen with people moving in all directions and the air was thick with the smell of fast food. I looked in Amy’s direction again, now having to stand on tiptoes to see over the crowds.

My heart started to beat faster; panic flooding my body. A stranger, a woman in a black coat approached Amy and started chatting to her. It was the woman, the woman from outside the hamburger joint last month. Walking faster now, I had her in my eye line but I was still too far away. My breath caught as I watched her stoop down to Amy’s eye level and unfurl her hand. I couldn’t see her face but she appeared to hand something to Amy and Amy giggled with delight. A cold sweat engulfed me and I wanted to scream for everyone to get out of my way. My daughter was in trouble and I needed to get to her. I had told Amy never to talk to strangers but she was such a trusting child. I watched the woman stand upright and ruffle Amy’s auburn curls. I didn’t know who the woman was, and I ran faster.

‘Amy!’ I shouted, my words swallowed whole by the milling crowds. ‘Amy!’

A young woman stepped in front of me and I tripped, falling to the ground. Without hesitation, I picked myself up and wiped my dirty hands on the back of my jeans, ignoring the throbbing pain in my left wrist. I looked from side to side, desperate to regain my bearings.

‘Excuse me,’ I said more loudly now. ‘Can you get out of the way?’ I put out my arm and started shoving people. A woman to my right tutted and a balding man shouted ‘Oi’ in my ear. But it worked and a gap slowly opened up. Once I had managed to escape the main avenue of stalls, I cut a left and ran to the rollercoaster ride. Amy was nowhere to be seen.

‘Amy,’ I hollered, moving from left to right and back again. ‘Amy, where are you?’

People were staring but I didn’t care.

‘Amy!’

A tap on my shoulder.

I spun around. They were stood in front of me: Paul holding Amy’s hand.

‘Amy.’ I couldn’t disguise the anger in my voice. ‘Who were you talking to?’

‘When?’ Her gaze tipped downwards.

‘Back there, next to the ride. I was trying to get your attention.’ I pointed to the rollercoaster.

‘No one.’ Amy shook her head.

‘What do you mean
no one
? I saw you.’

She shook her head again and pushed her fisted hands into her coat pockets, like she was trying to hide something.

‘What have you got there?’ I grabbed her hand and prised her fist open. A red lolly fell to the ground. ‘Where did you get this, then?’

‘For God’s sake, Sophie, leave her alone. It’s just a lolly,’ Paul said, taking my arm and jamming his fingers firmly into my coat and skin. ‘She’s here, I’m here, and that’s all that matters now.’

I let go of her and Paul continued to hang onto me, his fingers hot on my chilled skin.

Through clenched teeth, I said, ‘Do you mind?’

Paul released my sleeve and gave me a withering look. My head pounded with the onset of a headache.

‘Sorry, Amy.’ I hugged her close. ‘I didn’t mean to shout. You just gave me a scare, that’s all.’ I turned my attention to Paul who was looking at me like I had lost it.

‘And where were you? Where did you go?’

‘To the toilet,’ he said, unflinching.

‘To the toilet,’ I repeated, ‘to the toilet. You call that good parenting?’

‘I was only a few minutes.’

I inhaled deeply.

‘Sophie, maybe you’re tired. You look tired, if you don’t mind me saying.’

He was trying to undermine me but I was familiar with his tactics and I didn’t rise to the bait.

‘Amy, how about you and I go get some candyfloss or something,’ I suggested, my voice calm except for a slight tell-tale waver. ‘How does that sound?’

Amy looked to Paul before answering. He started to protest but surprised me. ‘Go on, Amy, it’ll be nice to spend some time with Mummy.’

‘OK,’ she agreed quietly.

I took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

‘Meet me here in twenty, OK?’ Paul said, and pointed to the information booth sign. I nodded. ‘And I mean twenty. No later.’

Amy led me from one stall to another and we finally stopped to watch a young boy focused on winning a Winnie-the-Pooh-Bear at the coconut shy. We stood in silence for a few moments before Amy’s face took on a weighted seriousness.

‘Mummy, why do you get so angry with Daddy?’

‘Because we don’t always see eye to eye. But it’s not you. You do know that?’ I put my arm around her. ‘I’m sorry about shouting at you earlier. I was just worried.’

She paused. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’ She pulled the cuffs of her coat further down.

‘I know that.’ I studied Amy’s face. ‘Were you talking to someone back there?’

Her lower lip started to tremble. ‘No. You told me not to talk to strangers.’

‘I know,’ I said, more gently now, ‘but did a woman talk to you? I know you wouldn’t approach a stranger yourself.’

She shook her head furiously from side to side and hugged me, burying her head in my coat. ‘Don’t worry, Ames. It doesn’t matter anyway, does it? You’re safe now. That’s the most important thing.’

‘Mummy?’

‘Yep?’

I didn’t expect it. Her words knocked me for six. ‘Daddy says we shouldn’t talk about you any more.’

There it was; like a knife in my heart. No warning. ‘He does, does he? And why’s that?’ My voice was pitched high, unnaturally high.

‘Because he says that, when you left, we had to make our own world and, so, if we talk about you, it’s …’ She stopped.

‘It’s what?’

‘It’s like you’re still my mummy.’

I looked away, tears threatening to overspill onto my cheeks. ‘I
am
still your mummy and I’ve wanted more than anything to see more of you.’

‘Daddy says you don’t really want to see me any more and that’s why you didn’t come over on Saturdays.’

‘No, not at all,’ I started and stopped. ‘I wanted to see you, Amy. You need to trust me.’ I knew it was inadequate and, yet, I knew she’d never accept the truth or want to hear it: how could an eight-year-old girl understand her father hadn’t allowed me to see her? I also didn’t want to admit that I had had no control over the situation. That if I turned up and caused a scene, it would only upset her and Paul would make me out to be the bad guy. I knew that the least I could do was to protect her from arguments. ‘Anyway, Ames, let’s get that candyfloss and head back to Daddy, yeah?’ I was desperate to change the subject.

She nodded, hurt etched across her tiny features.

I gave her a few pound coins and watched her walk confidently up to the candyfloss seller. She asked for two sticks and turned around to check if that was OK. I put my hand up and indicated three. She changed the order. I couldn’t believe how she had grown up, the same little girl who at one time preferred to remain wrapped around my legs, her small pudgy hand in mine.

My phone vibrated in my bag, cutting through my thoughts. Paul, no doubt. We had been over twenty minutes. I rummaged around in the tote, found the phone and hurriedly tried to flip it open before the third ring ended. I got it on the fourth.

‘We’re just coming back.’

A rough, low, muffled female voice filled the phone.

‘Happy birthday, Sophie.’ A pause. ‘Your turn.’

‘Who is this?’ I managed to blurt out, my heart pounding furiously. I could hear someone else calling out my name and then, the call went dead.

The voice. So familiar.

Blood rushed to my ears, my heart hammering my chest.

I looked over to the stall to check on Amy and dropped my mobile to the ground, my eyes fixed on the spot where she had just been standing.

She was gone.

A deathly chill passed over my body, my heart dropped into my stomach. Half a beat later, I snapped out of it and quickly retrieved my phone off the ground. I moved erratically from one side of the stalls to the other, my eyes desperately scanning the crowds.

‘Did you see where that little girl went?’ I asked the candyfloss seller.

‘Huh?’ The overweight man squinted at me through his spectacles.

‘The little girl who just asked you for candyfloss. Did you just sell candyfloss to a girl about this high?’ I showed him. ‘Auburn hair?’

He shrugged his shoulders and called over me to the next customer. I whipped around. Droplets of sweat formed on my upper lip. I clasped my throat; dry as parchment paper.

‘Amy!’ I called out, my voice drowning in the hubbub of the fair.

I attempted to control my shaking hand as I scrolled through the phone menu looking for Paul’s name. It went straight through to voicemail. I tried again. My eyes darted left and right searching for any sign of Amy’s pink duffle coat or strawberry blonde hair. She had vanished. I prayed to god she had found her way back to her father. It didn’t seem possible: I had taken my eyes off her for less than thirty seconds. I wanted to scream at the woman staring at me as she passed by with a pushchair and her young son hanging onto the handle, I wanted to shout at the man who had just dug his elbow into his friend’s side and nodded in my direction. They both walked off laughing. Thirty seconds. Where had she gone in thirty seconds?

Paul eventually picked up.

‘Sophie?’

‘I can’t find her, I can’t find Amy,’ I shouted over the mounting noise. ‘Is she with you?’ A moan escaped my throat. I pushed the phone up against my ear in an effort to drown out the arcade games and music.

‘What do you mean you can’t find her?’

‘She was here,’ I said. ‘Oh god, oh god …’ My face crumpled. Large tears landed on my lips, I licked them away and wiped my nose on the back of my sleeve. ‘Where are you?’

‘At home,’ he answered.

‘Home?’ I shouted.
How much time had passed? My mind felt a familiar fuzziness, the same sensation warning me of the onset of a panic attack. My body telling me I was in danger.
‘What are you doing there?’