She disappears into the dark hallway, and I cast around for somewhere to sit, but the chairs are loaded with stacks of papers. I stand at the open doorway that leads to the garden and, beyond that, a huge field. Two black Labradors stroll over the patio towards me and I step outside, grateful for the fresh air, to stroke them. I head towards the fence that separates their garden from the field beyond. It’s beautiful out here with more of a breeze than I’m used to in Bristol, thanks to the open landscape. I breathe in the air with its subtle smell of manure that has always been synonymous with the countryside and my childhood, living with Mum in Rye where I grew up.
A moment later, Drew appears in the doorway, his mother hovering just behind him, but she moves back into the kitchen as he strides across the garden to greet me. He’s wearing a navy polo-shirt with the name of his farm across his left pec and his jeans are tucked into wellington boots. His arms look strong and toned and here, in his own domain, he seems more self-assured, which makes him more attractive.
‘Lena, thanks for coming.’ He beams at me. The two dogs come up to him, each pushing their noses into the palms of his hands. ‘Do you mind if we go around the side? I haven’t told my mother anything about this yet.’
‘Sure.’ I glance towards the house. In the gloom of the kitchen I spot his mother’s pale hair. I let him lead me around the side of the house to one of the barns.
‘The cows are in the field, so let’s go in here,’ he says, taking me into the stalls. It’s even cooler in here and smells of straw with the faint whiff of ammonia. He sighs. ‘This is a long shot, Lena. A complete long shot. And I could be so wrong about this. But your neighbour, Henry. Something didn’t seem right about him, and when I spoke to you afterwards, I sensed you doubted him too. He told me that she was sacked. Sarah-Jane is many things. She’s selfish and wilful and stubborn – God, she’s stubborn – but she’s bright. It didn’t ring true, but then I figured, even though I still spoke to her regularly, I hadn’t seen her for a long time so perhaps she’d changed, you know? So after I spoke to Henry I stayed in the park and rang the clinic she used to work for and they confirmed she hadn’t been sacked. She’d just left one evening as usual and hadn’t turned up the next day. The woman I spoke to said that the clinic wasannoyed because she was supposed to give notice and she’d left them short-staffed.’
‘So, wait. I’m confused. Your sister was working with Henry around three years ago, before he retired, and then abruptly left? But you’ve spoken to her since then?’
‘Oh, yes, lots since then. Like I say, I spoke to her around three months ago. But the woman at the clinic was very helpful when I told her I was worried about Sarah-Jane and she gave me a number for a woman called Milly, who shared a flat with my sister. I rang Milly, who told me Sarah-Jane had moved away from Reading earlier this year but that she spoke to her last week.’
I reel in surprise. ‘But that’s good news, isn’t it?’
‘Milly said she sounded paranoid and upset. She also told Milly she was worried about being followed and that she kept seeing the same car everywhere.’ He angles his body towards me. ‘You’ll understand why I was angry with Henry when I went to his house yesterday evening after I tell you the next bit.’ He pauses. ‘Milly told me that the car SJ kept seeing was a classic car. Blue.’ He watches me intently, waiting for it to sink in.
‘A Jag?’
‘She didn’t say what make. I went to ask Henry why he had lied about Sarah-Jane being sacked from the clinic, then saw the car and—’
‘Wait! How did you know where they lived?’ I doubt Henry would have told him. He met Drew in the park after all.
He hesitates, glancing at me, and it hits me that it’s my address, not theirs, that he knew. I’d never given it to him,but I did tell him Henry was my neighbour. I feel a stab of discomfort. How does he know where I live unless he’s followed me?
I forgot about the fucking dog.
Could that have been Drew? Yet he didn’t know I had a dog … or had I told him when he came in to Citizens Advice?
I’m suddenly all too aware that we’re here, in this isolated barn, alone.
He swallows, shame-faced, but doesn’t answer my question. ‘So, er, yeah, I saw Henry’s car and was about to confront him to ask if he’d been following my sister or knew more about where she was, but then he came out of his house.’ His face contorts. ‘I was furious with him and asked him outright, but then …’ He rubs his hand across his chin. ‘Something weird happened. He was really calm. More than calm. Cold. And he told me, in a very quiet, steely voice, that my source was mistaken. Sarah-Janewassacked three years ago and he hasn’t seen her since. And, God, Lena, it was sinister. The way he spoke to me. I was … I was actually a bit scared.’
A chill washes over me that this man, this younger, fitter guy, is scared of Henry.
‘What do you make of Henry?’ he asks. ‘You seem a bit freaked out by him too. Why?’
‘I …’ I shuffle and look down at my hands. I don’t quite trust Drew. He still hasn’t explained how he knows where I live. There’s a brooding intensity behind his handsome face, which gives him a hard-man edge, like he could be in a Guy Ritchie film. But then he did say that Henry hadscared him. I look up. His eyes bore into mine as he awaits an answer. ‘I heard something, last Thursday night when I was recording sound for my son, and it made me … not suspicious exactly, but …’
‘Like what? What did you hear?’
‘Um. It wasn’t much, to be honest. But he and his wife sounded as if they might have been talking about something illegal. They talked about taking someone and getting a room ready. They also said something about it being too risky but that they’d got away with it before.’
Drew pales. ‘You think they were talking about kidnapping someone?’
‘I don’t know.’ I grimace. ‘They could have been talking about anything, but then you told me about Sarah-Jane and that she’d worked with Henry, who perhaps lied about her being sacked. And now her telling her friend she was being followed. The classic car … I don’t know, Drew. Maybe she moved back here since you last spoke to her and Henry was following her for some reason, I … I don’t know …’
‘You think they were talking about kidnapping my sister?’ His voice shakes.
My head swims. ‘It’s all so tenuous – you don’t know exactly when your sister went missing but, according to her friend, Milly, she spoke to her last week. And whatever the Morgans did in the past, whatever they were talking about when I overheard them, they are planning to repeat soon. Maybe they’ve done it over the past few days.’
His dark brows knit together. He has a line between his eyes that makes him look angry even when he’s not frowning. ‘Did you record their conversation?’
‘No, unfortunately, not all of it. And not the bit when they were talking about doing something risky, or their worry about getting caught. I did record the first bit, where Marielle says to Henry that he promised to “take her” but that in itself isn’t enough to prove they were talking about kidnapping someone, is it?’
‘God!’ He buries his head in his hands, and I stand by his side awkwardly.
‘They never actually said the word “kidnap”,’ I backtrack. ‘We have to remember that, Drew.’
