“No, that’s great. Thanks, Kelly. Good work.” Elea’s voice was steady, but her pulse wasn’t, as she watched Kelly leave.
Mitch was already pulling on his coat.
Elea reached for his arm, gripping his sleeve. “You don’t think...” The words stuck in her throat, swallowed by the sudden pressure building in her chest.
Mitch’s hand closed over hers, steady, warm.“Maybe.”He paused.“You OK?”
Elea swallowed hard and gave a small, sharp nod. Her hand tightened on his for a second before she let go.“If it’s Liisa—”She exhaled shakily, forcing composure.“I need to be the one to talk to her first.”
Mitch held her gaze for a beat, then nodded.“Let’s go.”
Chapter 66
Elea tugged her coat against the biting wind as they surveyed the vast expanse of open land. Mitch understood her need to keep things low-key, but had insisted on tagging along. An endless canvas of dreary winter stretched out before them. The brown, damp grass thawed beneath the late-morning sun, which cast streaks of orange on the landscape in the promise of a new day. Scattered across the common the shapes of grazing horses moved slowly, their warm breaths rising in soft puffs. Their thick, muddy coats provided protection from the cold, their heavy hooves leaving imprints in the damp grass. Liisa would be most at home with the horses. But why hadn’t she reached out to the police? Deep in thought, Elea continued walking next to Mitch, her gaze falling between the underbrush and clumps of tall, dormant grass.
Heads down, they passed dog walkers along the paths. “This place is huge.” Mitch’s words came on a frosted breath. “We could get the drone up; it would save time.” They had been walking for thirty minutes and were getting nowhere.
“Go. I’ll get a taxi back,” she suggested. Because if Liisa was here somewhere, Elea needed this reunion to be just the two of them.
“We’ll give it another ten minutes,” Mitch replied. “Then I’m calling for backup.”
Elea ground her back teeth as she tried to gather some semblance of patience. She’d fantasised so many scenarios in which she’d find her daughter. The last thing she wanted was an audience. She trudged through the grass. Ten minutes. Then she’d tell Mitch to leave.
“Look. Over there.” Mitch said, pointing at a lone figure in the misty air.
Elea’s breath caught in her throat. There was movement between two horses. A flash of long blonde hair. Elea exchanged a glance with Mitch. The moment she had fought for, longed for, suddenly felt overwhelming and she became rooted to the ground.
“Go,” he said. “Call if you need me.”
It couldn’t be, could it? Yet every fibre of her being told her it was. She made a beeline towards a lean-to where a group of horses was congregating. Quietly she approached the small wooden structure, her heart punching her ribs as she got closer to the woman, who was speaking the sweetest of Finnish words.
“Hyvää huomenta, rakas. Miten voit tänään?” The young woman stood, her back to Elea. She was talking to the horses, asking them how they were. Elea wanted to stay in this moment. In this beautiful bubble of hope, relief, and love. She took precious seconds to breathe as her emotions came in waves. It was Liisa. She was alive. A sense of unreality washed over her. That was the voice of her little girl. Swallowing the tightness in her throat, she called out.
“Liisa?”
The young woman was standing beside a piebald horse, feeding it Polo mints. Her sleeping bag lay crumpled in the straw. Her mouth dropped open, the packet of mints falling to the ground. She moved aside as the horse greedily nuzzled the spilled mints at her feet.
“Wait!” Elea said, speaking in Finnish as Liisa backed away. She looked like a frightened animal searching for escape. “Please. Liisa. It’s me. It’s...Mum.”
The young woman stared, eyes wide, nostrils flaring as she looked Elea up and down.
Had Elea got it wrong? Was this really her daughter? After all this time was there a chance she was seeing through the lens of a desperate mother?
“M-Mama?” The girl’s hopeful blue eyes grew wet with tears.
“Yes.” It came in a whisper.
It was Liisa. Liisa was alive. Arms open, heart aching, Elea moved towards her daughter.
Liisa took two steps back. “No. No, no, no...” Tears trickled down her face as, hand raised, she instructed Elea to stay where she was.
“It’s OK.” Elea sniffed. “You’re safe now. It’s me.” But Liisa was in shock. Elea shoved her hand in her pocket and brought out a crumpled photograph. “Remember this?” She blinked away her tears, for clarity of vision. “I took it at the riding school.” She exhaled a laugh at the memory. “That pony was so fat, you called him—”
“Lihapulla—my meatball,” Liisa finished her sentence, transitioning to English as she approached.
Elea closed the space between them. She was aware of Mitch moving in.
Then Liisa was falling into her arms, burying her head in Elea’s shoulder and gripping her tight. “Mama,” she cried. “It’s really you.”
