It’s after handing her a tissue and waiting while she dries her eyes that I see the lineup of small framed photos displayed on the console. Her family would be my guess, with the upscale silver frames telling me they’re important to her.
For all that I don’t really have one, family is important to me, too.
A closer look at the portrait gallery and I notice something I hadn’t at first glance. The subjects appear very different to the woman across from me, at least outwardly. They seem practical, down-to-earth types. Could it be there’s more to Phoebe Jackson than she’s letting on?
Only once she’s composed do I get down to finding out more about her man problem. “You want to start at the beginning? How long has it been going on?”
After a bit of sniffling, she starts slowly. “Six months. Six months of Ralph always being in the background.” She shudders before adding, “Until recently.”
“Ralph?”
She waves her hands around, explaining this is what she calls him for want of anything better. She also tells me that after a close call, she’d started delaying her social media posts. These days, her location only shows after she’s moved on.
And yet none of it had helped, unless…
“Can I check something on your phone?”
After a moment’s hesitation she grabs a large canvas tote from beside the couch, has a rummage through it, and eventually finds her phone.
I’m checking the location settings when she huffs out.
“Of course, I turned them off. That was one of the first things I did.”
The tilt of her head, and her brow arching, let me know she doesn’t appreciate my questioning her intelligence. Before I can apologize, there’s a familiar crackle in my ear. I’m standing soon after.
“Ms Jackson, I just need to speak to someone. I won’t be long.” While Simon’s side of our conversation will be private, because I’m wearing an earpiece, I won’t be able to speak freely in return.
On seeing alarm flare in her wide-set, amber eyes, I quickly add, “I’ll be just outside the door.”
When I hear what Simon has to report, I wish I was still sitting down. “He can’t just have vanished. That’s not possible.”
And it shouldn’t be. I’ve worked nowhere with as many cameras as there are at Maddigan’s. Not to spy on people, but to ensure their safety, and never in sensitive areas, like bedrooms or bathrooms.
“Keep checking. Get help if you need it. Just find him.”
Promises made, I re-enter Phoebe’s room, ready to continue getting as much information as I can. Only she’s not in sight, although clattering from the bathroom has me looking in that direction.
Apart from my mom, I’ve never seen a woman pack this fast. A wide sweep of her arm and Phoebe sends everything from the counter into her toiletry bag.
She’s zipping it up a moment later.
“Hang on, hang on. If you run, he’ll only follow you.”
I haven’t meant to speak this bluntly and my words slam home, leaving her using the vanity for support. Rather than tempt myself by hugging her again, I instead lift the receiver on the phone next to the bed. A brief call to Room Service and coffee, complete with sweet pastries, is on its way.
“Ms Jackson. He can’t get to you while I’m in here, and I need to know more if I’m to help you.”
There’s no amusement in her laughter at my suggestion.
“Help?! There isn’t any help. Not until he hurts me. Don’t you think I’ve reported him to the police?”
I know what she’s talking about all too well. I grew up with this. It would be different if she knew who the guy was. Then she could take out a restraining order, although if he was determined or unstable enough, even that wouldn’t help.
As we sit and wait for our coffee, she tells me as much as she can. It had mostly been notes and letters until a recent charity fashion parade. Then, despite security, the guy had made it as far as her dressing room, leaving flowers for her.
“After reading the note, I made confetti out of it and trashed it along with the flowers.” As if to show, she’s frantically destroying the tissue I’d so recently given her.
This has me shutting my eyes, overwhelmed by a scene from my childhood. A time when my dad had been trying to convince my mom, he hadn’t meant to hurt her, to give him another chance.
