Where the Memories Lie (15 page)

He opened the door and it was as if I was transported back

in time to the day he asked me if I knew where Katie was, only

this time our roles were reversed. I was on his doorstep and would

be asking the same questions.

‘Hi.’ He frowned in surprise. ‘It’s Olivia, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ I smiled. ‘Olivia Tate.’

He smiled back in recognition. ‘Yes. You’re a nurse at the

doctor’s surgery.’

Where the Memories Lie

‘That’s right. Um . . . I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Something?’ He tilted his head in a question.

‘Something about a runaway you dealt with a long time ago.’

‘You mean Katie Quinn? I remember talking to you at the time.’

‘Do you?’ A spark of hope ignited. ‘Do you remember the

goodbye letter she wrote, by any chance?’

His gaze drifted into the distance somewhere above my head,

thinking. He was silent for a while before finally saying, ‘Why don’t you come in?’

His house was small and neat and tidy. Definitely male-oriented,

with dark grey and brown and navy accent colours.

I perched on the edge of the grey velour sofa as he sank into an

armchair opposite that had a nice view of a back garden equally as

beautiful as the front.

Tom would love it.

But Tom was the reason I was there.

‘So, you want to know about the letter Katie left?’

I nodded.

‘Do you know how many people run away each year?’

‘No.’ I played it vague, not wanting to give away that I’d been

Googling like mad.

‘Hundreds of thousands. People go missing all the time. Especial y

youngsters.’

‘Right. But you saw the letter, didn’t you? And you were satis-

fied that Katie had written it and it wasn’t a fake.’

‘A fake?’ He eyed me calmly.

‘Yes. I mean, did you compare the handwriting with something

else of hers?’

‘Yes, I did. I even took it to our handwriting analysis officer,

who told me it was a match.’

‘Oh. Did you ever manage to find out where she’d gone when

she left?’

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‘No, I didn’t.’ He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching

mine with something that looked like expectation. ‘I remember you

kept asking me at the time if I’d heard anything − every few months or so for a long time.

I was suddenly an eighteen-year-old again, sitting in this very

room, which was then his police office, asking if he’d had any

updates about Katie’s whereabouts. I’d been hoping one day to get

a letter from her, telling me all about her new life, but it never

came. One half of me had felt like I should try to find her, although I didn’t have a clue how to go about it. If PC Cook couldn’t find

her, then how could I? As the time wore on, I felt angry and hurt

that she’d just upped and left without even a goodbye. We had been

close. Like sisters for a long time. But not as close as I’d thought.

I’d felt betrayed in the end, and so I’d stopped asking him. Stopped thinking about her.

‘Why are you asking now, after all this time?’ His voice jerked

me back to the present.

I couldn’t explain the real reason – that my father-in-law had

admitted to killing and burying her somewhere. Not yet. Not until

I was certain she was really missing. So far it could all be some great big coincidence that I couldn’t find any trace of her.

He cocked his head slightly, waiting for me to say something.

‘Well, I’ve just been thinking about her a lot lately. Wondering

why she didn’t get in touch when she was settled wherever she went.’ It wasn’t strictly a lie. I
had
wondered a lot, especially in the beginning.

‘At first I thought she’d come back. That she’d just had a row with her parents or was trying to run away from a broken heart.’

‘Yes, I remember you saying that at the time.’ He leaned

forward, elbows on his knees.

‘But don’t you think it’s weird she never got in touch with

anyone in all this time?’

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Where the Memories Lie

‘Are you suggesting something happened to her?’ He stared at

me intently.

My cheeks flushed with warmth. Could he tell I was hiding

something? Surely, as a policeman he was used to spotting lies.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, you don’t just disappear without a reason, do you?

And from what I found out at the time, Katie didn’t get along

with her parents, and she was running away from a troubled

home life and a recent traumatic break-up with your brother-

in-law, so it may not be that strange that she didn’t get in touch

with anyone again. Although plenty of runaways do turn up

later, some just don’t want to be found. Katie was an adult when

she left. It was her choice to leave home, and I’m certain she left of her own volition. I made enquiries with the local hospitals,

just in case she’d been in an accident. I searched the house and

didn’t find anything that made me suspicious. I questioned Jack

and Rose, and you and other people who knew her, and was

satisfied there was no foul play. But I was pulled off the inquiry

as soon as I established that, and there was nothing more I could

do at the time.’

‘Did you keep a copy of the letter she left?’

His eyebrows pinched in an intrigued frown for a moment

before he stood up. ‘Wait here.’ He disappeared out of the room.

I glanced around while I waited. There were several trophies

for lawn bowling on top of the grey slate mantelpiece, along with a photo of him in his police uniform at an award ceremony, looking

much younger. On the desk in the corner of the room was a laptop

with a stack of hand-written notes at the side.

When he came back he handed me a clear plastic folder with a

few sheets of paper inside.

‘What’s this?’

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Sibel Hodge

‘It’s the notes I wrote up when Katie went missing. And a

copy of her letter.’ He tilted his head towards his laptop. ‘I always intended to write a book when I left the force. I’ve got a big interest in the history of the village, and I thought it might make good

reading, all the things that happened here. So I always kept personal notes on everything.’

Tears pricked at my eyes as the possibilities of what might have

happened to her bombarded my thoughts. I gripped the letter and

started reading.

I’m leaving this place and you can’t stop me. You know what you
both did. I hope you rot in hell!

Good riddance!

That was it. No
To Mum and Dad.
No
from Katie.
It was definitely her writing, though.

I paused to gather my thoughts. Her medical notes flashed into

my head. ‘What do you think she meant by “what you both did”?’

‘I asked Rose and Jack that at the time but they said it was just

referring to a row they’d had the night before she left and Katie

was just being melodramatic. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for

them to argue, as I remember. Rose told me the argument started

because they wanted Katie out of the house now that she had a

full-time job. Jack said she was lazy and they’d had enough of her

attitude and it was time for her to get her own place and fend

for herself.’

‘They were throwing her out?’ I asked. Why had I not heard

that at the time? I put the letter on the arm of the sofa.

‘Yes.’

‘So you don’t think she was referring to . . .’ I trailed off,

unable to ask if he thought Jack had been abusing her. Maybe

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Where the Memories Lie

because I didn’t want to say it out loud. Saying the words made the possibility stronger, and if it was true, the thought of what Katie could’ve endured over the years went way beyond neglect.

He picked up the letter and read it again. ‘Referring to what?’

‘Um . . .’

‘I think I know what you’re asking, but I never found any

signs of abuse going on − just neglect. I suspected Rose and Jack

liked a drink, I suppose, but they hid it well behind closed doors.

After Katie left, they didn’t really bother to hide it any longer. God knows how long they’d been alcoholics. So, you see, that’s what

I think Katie meant in her letter. Her parents had neglected her.

She didn’t get on with them and they were threatening to throw her

out anyway, so she left. Her running away wasn’t unusual under the

circumstances.’

I looked down at the carpet, feeling the weight of guilt crush-

ing down on my shoulders again. I should’ve done more. Done

something. I’d called myself her best friend, but I was the worst

friend in the world. I’d let her down.

But you were only young, too. You can’t know everything when

you’re that age, even if you think you do.

I shook off the inner turmoil and tuned back in to what

Mr Cook was saying.

‘I found myself being glad that she’d run away in the end. I’m

sure she would’ve had a better life on her own, without her parents.’

‘I hope so,’ I said. Maybe Katie really had run away. Maybe

she’d just disappeared like the thousands of people who are never

heard from again. But an uneasy thought hovered in my head and

refused to go away. Something bad had happened to my friend:

I was sure of it. ‘It’s . . .’ The room swam before my eyes and I suddenly felt stiflingly hot. I needed air. ‘I have to go.’ I shot up and made my way to the front door.

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Sibel Hodge

‘If you ever find out anything . . . if you ever hear from her, will you let me know?’ he asked as I turned the handle.

But I had a horrible feeling no one would ever hear from

her again.

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Chapter Thirteen

I had a hard time keeping everything straight in my head as

I drove to Mountain View Nursing Home, hands gripping

the steering wheel. I got blasted with a horn from the driver

behind when I failed to notice some traffic lights had changed from red to green. Then I had to swerve to avoid a mum with a pushchair

at the zebra crossing that I swear I didn’t see in the middle of the road until the very last minute. What the hell was I doing? I was

a liability.

I sat in the car park in my Mini, staring at Tom’s window

on the ground floor, chewing on my thumbnail. I didn’t want to

be here. I wanted to be reassuring a patient, or walking Poppy.

Mucking around with Anna, having sex with my husband, or at

home making dinner. OK, not making dinner, but I wanted to be

doing something normal. Something a world away from asking my

father-in-law exactly where he’d buried my best friend’s body.

It was mad. Crazy. Insane. It couldn’t be happening. It

wasn’t real.

And yet it was.

Kelly made conversation about something as I signed the visi-

tors’ book, but I couldn’t tell you what she said. I just smiled and
Sibel Hodge

nodded automatically and headed down the corridor in a daze,

fighting to keep the anxiety and dread inside.

I waved a hello to Mary, who was thankfully on the phone

and couldn’t engage me in any conversation, and I stood in Tom’s

doorway, staring at the sleeping, shrivelled form of a man who

was possibly a murderer. A man I’d known for over twenty-five

years. A man I’d looked up to and loved deeply. The father of my

husband. The doting grandfather of my beautiful child. Whenever

Charlotte or Anna were ill when they were little, he’d be the first one round, reading stories to them, making up all these funny

accents for characters in the books. He spent hours with them,

trying to keep them entertained so it took their mind off how they

were feeling. When Anna had chickenpox one year, he read her

stories by Roald Dahl all night, doing all these amazing voices and making her laugh. Ethan and Nadia and Chris said he’d always

done the same thing for them when they were growing up. Even

though he was rushed off his feet, he still always had an infinite

amount of time for everyone else.

If it was true, the world as I knew it was about to slip from

underneath my feet and send me crashing to the ground. And what

about Ethan and Nadia and Chris? How would they feel? Charlotte

and Anna and Lucas? This wasn’t just about Tom; it would involve

the whole family. We lived in a small village. People would gossip

and stare and point fingers. How could we face Rose if we knew

Tom had killed her daughter? How could we face anyone? We’d

have to move. That was all there was to it. Leave the village and

move to a town miles away where no one knew us. But what about

Charlotte’s A-levels and Anna’s school? Anna loved it here. She

loved her teachers and was doing really well.

I rubbed at the throbbing ache behind my temples and sat

down in a chair next to his bed, suddenly feeling light-headed.

I gripped the armrests, staring out of the window as the severity of 114

Where the Memories Lie

the situation increased in magnitude. I worried about what would

happen, desperately hoping there was still room for error and Tom

was just confused about Katie.

I don’t know how much time passed as the afternoon drifted

by and my stomach churned. I wanted to wake him and get it over