Until yesterday I would have said that Tessa could have been a support, but now I don’t know. She’s hiding something from me, but at the same time she seems genuinely distraught about Millie. In the end I asked her directly: ‘What are you not telling me, Tessa?’
There was no mistaking the fact that she was shocked, but she came straight back. ‘There’s nothing. Seriously, if I knew anything at all about Millie, don’t you think I’d tell you?’
I don’t know any more. I wanted to ask Tessa outright who was in her bedroom, but Becky told me not to.
‘She’s not aware that we saw him, or that we know he left the house by some route other than either of the gates. It’s best we keep it that way until we’ve finished checking on her. I know it seems like forever to you, but it’s early days and we can’t afford to take a wrong step.’
I said nothing to Tessa, and in the end she went home, clearly concerned that I was blocking her.
Finally I switch off the shower. The effort of drying myself seems too much, so I wrap myself in a towel and sit, head bent, on the side of the bath, waiting for the water to evaporate from my skin. I’m still there ten minutes later when I hear the front doorbell, and I freeze, not knowing if I should answer it or not.
Clearly someone – probably Zoe – decides to open the door, because moments later I hear Nousha scream. I tighten the towel around me and fly from the bathroom, praying that nothing else is happening to my family. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but she’s crying hysterically.
I hang over the bannister, about to call out, and it’s only then that I realise Nousha’s scream wasn’t one of fear. She has her arms round a tall dark man wearing a black medical boot on his left leg below the rolled-up trouser leg of some scrubs, trying to balance on one of his crutches as she clings onto him.
‘Thank God you’re home, Ash. You’ve no idea what we’ve been going through here.’
Ash raises his eyes to meet mine and gives his sister one last squeeze. ‘Noush, go and make some coffee, would you? I’m going to talk to Jo.’
‘Oh, but…’
Ash kisses her forehead and determinedly picks up his second crutch and heads to the stairs.
‘I’ll come down,’ I shout.
‘No. I need to move around. I can hop upstairs and slide down on my backside. I need to talk to you.’
I understand the subtext. Our only opportunity for privacy is in the bedroom, so I watch as he grabs the bannister and tenaciously hops his way up the stairs.
I listen to each thud of the crutch, each lighter thump of his good foot, and he is getting closer. I wanted him here to comfort me, to share my fears, but with each beat comes a question.
Why did they take you?
Why was there a burner phone in your study?
Why did you change the code on your phone?
Why was your photo on Tinder?
Do you know what has happened to my daughter?
Across the road, Tessa stomped around her kitchen, picking her phone up every few moments to see if he had called yet.
She slammed the phone back onto the worktop. This was not the way she allowed herself to behave. Men pursued her. She held the reins, and men called and wanted to know when they could see her. She had never been in this position before, and she hated it. Why didn’t he call?
It felt so much worse because Jo knew something was going on. But how could she? They had been so careful: separate phones, always keeping out of sight, sneaking in and out of Tessa’s house, never being seen in public. She’d even set up Geoff to throw Jo off the scent, although she felt mean about that because he’d taken it all so seriously. She hoped it would give him the impetus he needed to put things right in his marriage and turn his relationship around before it fell apart through neglect.
Tessa truly believed that she saved marriages rather than ruined them, and more than one of her cast-offs had told her she had been the wake-up call he had needed. This time, though, it was different. For the first time ever, she wanted this man more than it seemed he wanted her.
‘Call me,’ she whispered.
52
As the door closes behind us, Ash reaches out an arm and pulls me towards him. I cling to him, feeling the warmth of his body on my damp skin. I’m so relieved that he’s home.
‘I’m sorry about everything that’s happened,’ he whispers.
I lean back slightly to look at him. ‘You think it’s your fault?’
He frowns, and his tone becomes terse. ‘I didn’t mean that. I wasn’t apologising! I regret that this is happening – not just to you. To both of us.’
I rest my head on his shoulder again. ‘I’m sorry – don’t trust anything I say right now. I’m glad you’re back. I thought I was going to go mad with Nousha banging on about how upsetting she’s finding it all and having to be polite to the family liaison officer.’
‘Oh, that’s who I saw through the sitting-room door, is it?’
‘She’s called Zoe. She’s pleasant enough, and I know why she has to be here, but…’ I pull my head back to look at him again, my voice breaking as I speak. ‘Why would anyone want to take Millie, Ash? Why? Did those men who took you say anything – anything at all?’
Ash lets go of me and turns away. ‘I told the police everything I know. Which wasn’t much, but they’ve taken my statement. Can you find me some clothes, do you think? The ward sister was going to call to ask you to bring me some, but I just wanted to get out of there, so I begged them to let me leave first thing. The police brought me home, but I had to wear these scrubs because my clothes are being held as evidence. The men manhandled me, so I guess they’re looking for DNA.’
He sits down on the bed and I walk towards the chest of drawers.
‘Why don’t you keep the scrubs on the bottom half – you’re not going to get much else on over that boot thing, are you? And I’ll find you a T-shirt and a sweater.’
‘I need proper trousers. Can you grab me a pair of jeans and split the seam at the bottom of the left leg so it will go over the CAM boot?’
‘Why? It’s warm in the house. What’s wrong with the scrubs?’
‘I need to go out. It’s too cold for scrubs.’
For a moment I wonder whether, with everything that is buzzing round my head, I’ve heard him correctly. But he’s not meeting my eyes, so I know I have.
‘What are you talking about? The police have told us not to go out unless it’s absolutely necessary. And we have to keep Zoe with us. Where are you going, and how are you going to get there?’
My voice is raised, strident, and I try to calm down. He still doesn’t look at me and leans down as if he needs to scratch the skin above his boot.
‘I can drive. My car’s automatic. I need to look for Millie.’
I stare at him, baffled. How can he think that driving the streets is going to be helpful?
Then a shocking thought hits me. ‘Do you know where she is?’
‘Of course not! If I did, don’t you think I’d tell you?’ He sounds irritated, but he’s still not looking at me.
‘I don’t know, Ash. There are many things it seems you don’t want to tell me.’