Missing Me (13 page)

‘Here, she shouldn’t be rushing like that—’ said a woman from inside the lift.

Ignoring her, we hurried on.

‘Get on the first train,’ I gasped.

We reached the platform. A train was due in one minute. We headed for the far end, past a group of Italian schoolkids, all talking at the tops of their voices.

I kept my eyes peeled, scanning the platform as the train roared in. The tube doors opened. Still no sign of Leather Jacket. We got on board. Wolf ushered Natalia to a seat. I kept watch, my
heart thudding against my ribs.

Close the doors. Close the doors
, I muttered under my breath.

Leather Jacket darted onto the platform. He looked up and down. He hadn’t seen us. Couldn’t be sure we were on the train. As he hesitated, the doors shut, leaving him outside.

I sank into the seat opposite Wolf, my whole body shaking.

‘Jeez, that was close,’ I said.

‘How did they know so fast?’ Natalia said, her hands trembling as she laid them on her belly.

Wolf leaned forward. ‘Cutting the tracker off must have activated an alarm. I thought it might, but I was hoping we’d have more time before they realised.’

I bit my lip. It hadn’t even occurred to me that it would be a problem. Thank goodness Wolf was here. I’d never have got Natalia away from the flat without him. It was the same at
the station. If Wolf hadn’t thought of buying her a travelcard in advance, we’d never have got her through the barrier in time. My skin erupted in goosebumps as I thought how easily
Leather Jacket could have caught us. I turned to Wolf, eager to thank him, but, before I could find the words, Natalia spoke.

‘So where are we going, Madison?’ she said, her forehead creased with an anxious frown. ‘I mean, are you sure your . . . Allan . . . will help me?’

‘Absolutely,’ I said. ‘He said before he left that he’d be going straight to his newspaper office from the airport this morning so I’m sure he’ll be in when
we get there.’

‘OK,’ Natalia said. She stroked her bump.

‘Thank goodness for that.’ Wolf sat back, looking relieved.

I felt relief too. It was good to know we’d soon be able to hand Natalia over to Allan. He’d know how to help her without necessarily involving the police.

We had to travel right across central London to get to Kensington, where Allan’s paper was based. We kept a careful watch as we switched trains, but there was no sign of either Leather
Jacket or Baxter himself.

‘How could there be?’ Wolf reasoned. ‘They don’t know which stop we’re planning to get off at, or how long we were going to stay on the tube. We’ve lost them
for now.’

For now.

The words stuck in my head. With all Baxter’s money, I knew he still had the resources to track down Natalia if she went anywhere too public, like a hospital. We just had to hope she
didn’t give birth until we’d got her to Allan.

We got off the train at High Street, Kensington and walked up the road and round the corner to Allan’s newspaper offices. As we got nearer, Natalia grew very pale.

‘I feel sick,’ she said, reaching for my hand.

I exchanged an anxious glance with Wolf. ‘Should we call an ambulance?’

‘No.’ Natalia squeezed my hand. ‘It’s just all the stress. Maybe a glass of water . . .’

I glanced at the café across the road. ‘Why don’t you take Natalia in there while I find Allan?’ I said to Wolf.

‘Sure.’ He helped Natalia along the street.

I headed into the newspaper offices. Reception was behind a huge pair of sliding glass doors. Security guards stood posted in front of two escalators, also behind glass doors, which led up to
the first floor. I gulped; it was all really intimidating.

The guards let me through to reception. A stylishly dressed woman with pointy-edged glasses peered down her long nose at me.

‘Yes?’ she said rather snootily.

‘I’m Madison Purditt. I’d like to see Allan Faraday, please,’ I stammered. Damn, I could feel my cheeks reddening.

The snooty receptionist checked her computer.

‘So sorry but he’s not registered,’ she said, in a tone that implied she wasn’t really sorry at all.

‘Not registered?’

‘As an employee.’ The woman cocked her head to one side. ‘Does he work here or not?’

‘Er, no, not exactly,’ I said. ‘I mean he’s freelance, not an employee. He said he’d be here today, though. He works with . . . for . . . one of the editors . . .
er, I think the name is Matthew Flint.’

The receptionist checked her screen again. ‘Mr Flint is in; would you like me to tell him you’re here?’

‘Er, yes.’ I gulped. ‘But he won’t know who I am . . . you’ll have to say I’ve got some information for Allan Faraday.’

‘Information?’

‘Like . . . like a story . . . for the paper . . .’ I said.

The receptionist tapped her nails on the counter as she put in the call. She turned away as she spoke . . . talking quietly so I couldn’t hear what she said.

I looked through the glass windows and across the road to where Wolf and Natalia were sitting by the window of the café. Natalia was sipping at a glass of water, her head propped in her
hand. Wolf was watching me. He raised his hand in a wave. I waved back. Then Natalia said something and Wolf looked away.

‘Mr Flint says you should take the escalator. He’ll meet you at the top.’ The snooty receptionist handed me a visitor pass. I clipped it to my T-shirt.

The security guard smiled as he let me pass through the glass doors and onto the escalator. My hands felt clammy on the handrail as I travelled to the top. A huge atrium opened above me with a
high glass roof. Wow. The building went up for several more levels.

I got off the escalator and wandered over to the sofas opposite. I waited a couple of minutes, trying to work out how I was going to begin explaining everything to Allan. Hopefully Matthew Flint
would bring Allan with him when he came out to meet me.

‘Madison?’ I turned round.

A short, slight man with a high forehead and glasses was smiling at me. He looked a bit older than Jam and Lauren, but not much.

‘Hi, I’m Matthew Flint,’ he said, looking at me with a sceptical expression. ‘I understand you’ve got a story from Allan Faraday?’

‘No, er, not exactly,’ I said, anxiety clutching at my guts. Wasn’t Allan here? ‘It’s a story
for
Allan. Actually, it’s much, much more than
that.’

Matthew Flint narrowed his eyes. I got the strong impression he was sizing me up. ‘How do you know Allan?’

‘He’s . . .’ I hesitated. It was all very well telling people who didn’t know him about Allan being my dad, but maybe it wasn’t fair for me to explain our
relationship to someone he worked for. ‘Allan’s a family friend,’ I said at last.

‘And you’re an aspiring journalist?’ Matthew Flint raised his eyebrows. He looked even more sceptical than before. ‘So what’s this story you want to give Allan,
then? I hope it’s a better lead than the last load of nonsense he tried to sell me.’

I bit my lip. ‘Couldn’t I speak to Allan directly?’ I said.

Matthew Flint frowned. ‘He’s not here.’

What?
‘But . . . he sent me a text saying he was working here today.’

‘Working here today?’ Matthew Flint chuckled. ‘Allan’s not working here. I’d be surprised to find out that he’s ever worked anywhere.’

‘What do you mean?’ I thought of Natalia waiting outside in the café. A chill ran down my spine. Allan had
definitely
said he would be here.

‘I mean that Allan Faraday isn’t here today and won’t be here tomorrow.’ Matthew Flint drew himself up. ‘In fact,’ he said, ‘Allan Faraday has
never
worked here.’

‘Allan Faraday has never worked here?’ My voice sounded faint to my ears as I echoed Matthew Flint’s words.

‘That’s right.’ Mr Flint nodded. ‘He’s tried to sell me a few ideas over the past couple of years, but . . . to be honest . . . he’s a bit of an idiot.’
He frowned at the look of shock that was clearly all over my face. Allan was being called an
idiot.
How was that possible?

‘But he . . . he said he was an investigative reporter . . .’

Matthew sighed. ‘He
plays
at being one. He’s written a few things I suppose, though they were mostly write-ups of social events. He comes from a wealthy family – his
parents left him a huge income which he spends on going to the latest parties and buying the latest gadgets.’

I thought of Allan’s designer suits and easy, charming manner. ‘So he is a writer at least?’ I said.

‘Sort of. Like I say there’s the occasional article, then he networks, he blogs, he does some PR . . . He’s tried to get me interested in some stories in the past – leads
he’s picked up from his wealthy friends – but he never follows anything through.’

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mr Flint went on, ‘but I only came down here because reception said you looked very young and very scared, so I thought you genuinely might have something to
tell me, but if you don’t, then . . .’ He shrugged.

‘Wait, no, I
do
have something.’ My mind was in freefall. I didn’t want to put Natalia in any more danger than she already was, but if Allan had lied to me, then he
wasn’t going to be of any help anyway.

Should I tell Mr Flint what I knew? I couldn’t decide.

‘Madison?’ Mr Flint sounded impatient. ‘What is it?’

My eyes filled with tears. I hated myself for being so weak, but I couldn’t help it. After so long without a father, I’d finally found Allan, and since I met him my life had changed
in these huge ways I could never have foreseen. I’d thought he was so cool. I’d tried so hard to impress him. Everything I’d done, since hearing about Miriam 21, had been aimed at
being the kind of investigative journalist I thought Allan was . . . making him see that I could be that sort of person too. In a world where Annie was scared for me to take a single step on my
own, I’d wanted my birth father to believe in me. And he had. At least I thought he had.

But I’d been wrong. And now I didn’t know what to do.

I turned to Mr Flint. This was simply too big a decision to take by myself. I needed to speak to Wolf and Natalia first.

‘There are other people involved,’ I said. ‘I need to talk to them. They’re just over the road.’

Mr Flint rolled his eyes. ‘Get them here now.’ He checked his watch. ‘You’ve got five minutes.’

I gulped. Wolf answered his phone straight away.

‘You have to come over here,’ I whispered. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘OK,’ Wolf said. ‘Don’t say any more, we’ll be right there.’

I paced up and down at the top of the escalator. Less than a minute later Wolf appeared. He was alone. Mr Flint had called down to reception to let him through and was now on another call on his
mobile. I only had a few more minutes to work out what to tell him.

Wolf raced up the escalator.

‘Where’s Natalia?’ I said.

‘She was still feeling really faint, so I told her to wait and have a cup of tea while I came over and found out what was going on.’ Wolf frowned. ‘Where’s your . . .
where’s Allan?’

Tears bubbled up in my eyes again as I explained how Allan didn’t work here after all. ‘The features editor – Matthew Flint – said Allan gave him a few ideas for stories,
but nothing that worked out.’

‘Oh, man.’ Wolf’s eyes widened. ‘This is bad.’

‘I can’t believe Allan lied to me,’ I went on. ‘Why would he do that?’

Wolf’s cheeks reddened slightly. ‘I don’t know. Maybe he was trying to impress you, you know, make out he’s something more than an expensive suit or something . .
.’ He frowned. ‘That doesn’t matter right now. What on earth are we going to do with Natalia?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. Anxiety clawed at my chest.

Mr Flint appeared by my side. ‘Time’s up,’ he said. ‘Either you tell me what this lead of yours is, or you have to leave now.’

I gulped. I still had no idea what to do.

‘Tell him about Baxter’s surrogacy operation,’ Wolf said. He put his hand on my shoulder. ‘There isn’t another option.’

He was right. I didn’t want to betray Natalia’s trust or put her in danger, but there was no way Wolf and I could handle this by ourselves. I turned to Mr Flint. ‘You know the
businessman Declan Baxter?’

Mr Flint nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘Well, we’ve found out he’s involved in illegal surrogacy arrangements between wealthy clients who want babies and poor girls coming from abroad mostly who are prepared to give
up their babies for money.’

Mr Flint’s eyes rounded. ‘Seriously?’ he said. ‘Do you have proof?’

‘Yes, there’s a girl—’ Wolf started.

I laid my hand on his arm to stop him revealing Natalia’s name. ‘One of the girls Baxter has been using is in the café opposite. She’ll talk to you, but I think
you’ll have to keep her name out of it. She’s scared Baxter will come after her if he thinks she’s gone behind his back.’

Mr Flint frowned. ‘Sounds like she should be going to the police.’

‘That’s what I think too,’ Wolf said.

‘She’s too scared to do that,’ I insisted.

There was a pause.

‘She’s in the café opposite?’ Mr Flint said.

‘Waiting for us,’ I said with a nod.

‘Come on, then,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and speak to her.’

We headed downstairs. As we crossed the road opposite the café, Wolf and Mr Flint strode on ahead. I hung back, worrying what Natalia would think. I’d promised her Allan with his
offers of help and money. And now I was bringing her Mr Flint who clearly was more interested in Natalia’s story than her actual situation.

I followed the others into the café. It wasn’t big – a scattering of tables on either side of a small glass counter selling cakes and sandwiches and coffee.

There was no sign of Natalia.

Wolf looked around. ‘She’s gone,’ he said.

I rushed over to the man behind the counter.

‘Where’s the girl who was here?’ I asked.

‘What girl?’ the man said. He narrowed his eyes.

Beside me, Mr Flint shuffled impatiently.