The one thing Nina was sure of was that Paul had been abused. He couldn’t have lied about that so convincingly. She’d seen all the way into his soul, that night he told her about it. So if Paul had lied about her being abused, he’d done it to scare her away and leave him in peace to continue his revenge scheme. The blackmail letters and the calls hadn’t worked, so he’d notched up the horror-programme for her.
Nina sobbed aloud. There was no way to know, but surely, surely, Claire would have intervened if she’d known that Paul was being abused?
Sam appeared from the kitchen with a glass of orange juice and a sliced banana on a plate.
‘Eat,’ he said briefly. ‘I’ll phone Mum and tell her you’re here.’
He left her alone, and Nina managed two pieces of banana and a sip of juice before pushing the plate away. Was Sam on his landline? She wanted to phone Bethany.
He came back and gave her the handset almost as if he had heard her thought.
‘Mum’s coming up later,’ he said. ‘She’s in a bit of a state; she feels it’s her fault.’
‘It’s not,’ said Nina, her voice thick. ‘He would have got Naomi even if she hadn’t been outside. I’m sure he had plenty of tricks ready. Look how he got me into his car – false bombs and everything. He was so convincing, Sam – it’s my fault, not Cassie’s.’
And if anything happened to Naomi today Nina knew she would blame herself for the rest of her life.
Sam patted her shoulder. ‘I’ll leave you to call Beth. Eat that banana, Nina, it’ll give you energy.’
As soon as she heard Beth’s voice Nina dissolved into tears, and it was a few minutes before she was able to talk coherently. Beth was horrified, and for more long minutes all they could do was cry together.
When she ended the call Sam came back and sat beside her on the sofa. Nina sipped her juice, her teeth chattering against the rim of the glass.
‘This is like waiting for Mum to die,’ she said. ‘She was in a coma for days. I was pumped full of adrenalin all the time, ready to cope with her death. I hardly slept. And now – it’s the same kind of feeling again. Sheer horror and nothing to do but wait.’
Sam put an arm round her and Nina closed her eyes. When would she be able to hold Naomi in her arms? Dear God, she’d known about the paedophilia but she still allowed her only child to come and be a part of it all. She’d been the worst possible kind of mother to her little girl. If only… if only she’d never heard of John Moore, never come to Bedford, and never inherited all that blood money.
In and out, in and out, there was nothing to do except breathe and wait for news to come.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Thursday 27th July
Nina slept fitfully on Sam’s spare bed that night, fully clothed in case the police called and she could rush to Naomi. Going to bed when there was still no news of her child was horrendous, but she was so tired… She’d phoned Alan, who was distraught but decided to wait in South Africa in the meantime. Nina could almost understand this, after all, she and Alan would draw little comfort from each other’s presence and the journey from Cape Town was over twelve hours even after the plane took off, and dear God surely Naomi would be found by that time. But it was another rather chilling reminder that she was the only ‘close’ family her child had.
David Mallony called shortly before midnight to report they would continue door to door inquiries the next day, but in his opinion Paul had taken Naomi somewhere else.
‘This wasn’t how he’d planned things; he’ll need time to re-think,’ he said. ‘We’ll put out an appeal tomorrow, Nina. Can you get us a recent photo of Naomi? You won’t have to speak; we know who has Naomi so all we need is a police appeal to the public to keep their eyes open. And of course all the airports and ports are already alerted. He won’t get her out of the country but I don’t for a minute imagine he’s trying to. He’ll be holed up somewhere making new plans.’
Nina’s sleep was broken, full of dark, frightening dreams. Every so often she jerked awake, heart racing, only to fall back into uneasy sleep. Dismal visions of Glen and Cassie and Emily, all shouting ‘help, help’, chased no less fearsome dreams of Claire and her bruised and broken face. Nina awoke at six with tears on her cheeks and knew she wouldn’t sleep again.
There was silence from Sam’s room as she crept past to the phone and punched out the number of the police station, only to be told there was no news but the search parties were already out again in the estates. Nina stood by the kitchen window, forcing back panic. It was a beautiful morning; brilliant sunshine mocked her as it sparkled on the chrome sink. Inside she felt as dark and oppressive as it was possible to feel, and that wasn’t going to change until she had her girl back. Today, please, that must happen today.
She showered mechanically, breathing deeply as the piping hot water flowed over her weary muscles and feeling about a hundred and fifty. Were old people like Emily tired and sore like this all the time? It was a horrible, draining feeling.
Emily… Emily had said quite a lot about Paul. But… Nina stood still, remembering. She’d missed part of it. For a few moments in the middle of the conversation she’d been thinking about something else, hadn’t she, yes – the names on the list. She’d missed some detail about Paul. Emily had a phone in her bungalow, but quarter past six was much too early to call. Nina pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt. She would wait till seven and phone the home, ask someone to check if Emily was up. And later she and Sam could go to The Elms. Her great-aunt might know something about Paul that would help find Naomi. Nina shivered. Talking to Emily was the only bloody thing she could do. The police weren’t going to let her and Sam go out and search housing estates, but no way could she sit around all day and wait. She had to do something to help find her child.
Sam still hadn’t surfaced, so Nina booted up his computer. Beth had e-mailed two photos for the police appeal. Taken a couple of weeks ago, one showed Naomi laughing as she played with Fifi the farmhouse cat, and the other a more earnest Naomi doing a jigsaw on a rainy afternoon. Nina sent them on to the police station, then sat sobbing over the keyboard. Naomi had been missing for twenty-four hours; the ‘golden hours’ were long gone.
‘Hey, come on. Come here.’ Sam was beside her, gathering her into his arms.
Thank Christ Sam was here. She wouldn’t have managed any of this without him. Nina told him about her feeling that Emily might have mentioned something about Paul.
‘Good thinking,’ he said. ‘And that goes with something that occurred to me in the night. You should take every one of those photos to show Emily, because one of them might remind her of something that could help.’
‘Hell, Sam, there’s hundreds of them. Do you think she’ll be able to get through them all?’
‘I’m sure she’ll give it her best. It means telling her what’s happened, but you have to do that now anyway.’
Nina pictured Emily’s kind old face and the lump in her throat grew again.
‘I need a mobile,’ she said dully. ‘I need to have a number for the police and Beth and Alan and – in case anyone has to contact me.’
Another thought struck her and she winced. ‘Oh God, I don’t know anyone’s number any more…’
‘You can borrow my old mobile,’ said Sam. ‘If you send everyone on your email address list a mail with the new number they can get back to you with theirs.’