Read The Stranger Within Online
Authors: Kathryn Croft
“No thanks. I’ll just be upstairs.” I daren’t tell him I need to finish my assignment. It is one of the ordinary tasks he considers indulgent while his son is missing.
“Oh, do you mind if I pop out later to meet Bridgette quickly? She said she’d help me think of things we can do…you know…to find Dillon. But if you need me here then I won’t go.”
James smiles and squeezes my hand. “Tell her I said thanks.”
Bridgette is already inside Café Rouge when I get here. She waves me over to her table and when I get to her, jumps up, almost suffocating me with her hug. “Your hair!” she says. “It looks great!” It must be two months since I’ve seen her, if it was before the haircut, and my hair, though still short, has grown a bit. She quickly tones down her excitement. “Any news?”
I sink into my seat, a foamy bench stretching across the whole back wall, and pull off my cardigan. “Nothing. It’s been five days now.”
“Fuck! Are you okay? I mean, I know you didn’t get on, but still, this is horrible, isn’t it?”
The waiter appears before I can answer and asks me what I’d like to drink, his accent revealing that he is Italian. I notice Bridgette already has a glass of wine so I ask for the same, grateful for a distraction from her question.
“So do you have any idea what’s happened to him? Has he run away?”
“Bridgette, I just don’t know.” With my nail I scratch tiny circles into the table and avoid her gaze. “Do you mind if we talk about something else? How are things with Aaron?”
Her eyes light up when I ask this and her bright pink smile expands across her face. “Great. Really good. I like him a lot.”
I smile and nod while she provides details of their relationship and I am pleased she has finally found someone she can stand still with. Yet at the same time it saddens me that Bridgette was once the person to whom I told everything. But there is no way I can tell her about Rhys and what a mess I am in. There are limits to what people will accept and I don’t want to find out hers.
The waiter brings over my wine and asks if we are ready to order. As usual, I haven’t even looked at the menu yet, so when Bridgette orders chicken, I once again ask for the same. I don’t know what it comes with but I have no appetite so it makes little difference.
By the time our food arrives, she is eager to talk about Dillon again. I can feel myself shutting down, but it would be unfair to ask her to change the subject again because it is such a big deal. She only wants to know if I’m okay. So I push food around my plate and endure her questions.
“So you were the last person to see him? That must be weird.”
“Yeah. Well, I don’t know. It depends where he went afterwards, I suppose.” Do I sound guilty as I say this? Too defensive? As if I am trying too hard? “He could have gone anywhere. To a friend’s house. Who knows?”
She digs her fork into a chunk of chicken. “But won’t the police have spoken to them all? I would have thought that’s the first thing they’d do.”
“But we don’t know everyone he was friendly with. At this point they’ll only be able to talk to people his friends from school can name.” I think of Rhys but push the thought away.
Still chewing, Bridgette shakes her head. “But do you think they’re doing all they can? It’s just it’s been, what, five days? Shouldn’t they be out there with search parties or whatever?”
“Bridgette, he’s almost sixteen. They’re not going to prioritise him like they would a small child. They probably think he’s run away.”
She mulls this over for a moment. “Do
you
think that?” There is something in her expression then. Mistrust?
“I don’t know what to think.”
“And he didn’t say anything strange the last time you saw him?”
I roll my eyes. “Everything he said to me was strange, wasn’t it?”
“I’m sorry. Enough of the questions. This must be hard for you and James, you know, with your…strained relationship.”
We both focus once more on eating. My lies have created a wall between us, our friendship just another casualty of what I have done.
After our main course is finished, Bridgette orders dessert, but I opt only for a cappuccino. It is a bit easier now that she is talking about other things, but then she brings it up again. “Remember your ex, Max? He connected with me on LinkedIn and apparently he’s an investigator now for a law firm. I wonder if he could help in any way? Or if he has any contacts?”
I am so shocked she is bringing up Max, when neither of us has mentioned him for years, that I almost can’t swallow the cappuccino that’s sitting in my mouth. There is no way I want Max to know about this. No way. “I doubt he can help. Or would want to.” I leave it at that, hoping to prevent a detailed conversation about him.
“Perhaps you’re right. Anyway, did Debbie tell you her news?”
I try to recall whether Debbie has said anything significant in her recent calls or texts but my mind is blank. “Um, what news?”
Bridgette’s expression suddenly changes and she doesn’t answer. “Oh…it’s nothing.”
“Come on, tell me.”
“She and Mark are trying for a baby. They’ve decided it’s the right time now that they’re living together.” She pauses. “Oh, Callie, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. Especially not now with everything else you’ve got going on. Sorry if I’ve upset you.”
“It’s okay. Please don’t worry,” I say, my eyes filling with tears. “I don’t want anyone walking on eggshells around me.”
“I know, but it’s still hard, isn’t it?”
I nod, keeping to myself that not a single day goes by when I don’t think of my baby. How I was nearly a mother to her, but couldn’t protect her inside me, couldn’t keep her alive. And how I’ve also failed Dillon and Luke. But Bridgette reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze, as if she knows my thoughts.
“Shall we get the bill?” I say, before any more tears escape. “My treat.” We have barely even discussed strategies for finding Dillon.
Outside we hug goodbye and Bridgette decides to get a taxi home. “I’ve got a headache all of a sudden,” she says. “But listen, one of Aaron’s friend’s works for the police so I’ll get him to have a word. See if there’s anything else you could all be doing. Okay? But let me know what else I can do to help. Posters, you know. Anything you need me for.”
I thank her, wondering if she is actually going to Aaron’s place; I have never known her to get a taxi such a short distance before. But I don’t question her. We each have our secrets.
Even though it is dark, I decide to walk home. It will help to clear my head, and delay the moment when I have to confront James’ sadness again. Sadness that I am responsible for.
When I reach the corner of our road, I see someone walking towards me. I pay no attention until the figure gets closer and I realise who it is. Rhys. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and his hood is up but it is unmistakeably him.
“Callie,” he says. “I’ve been waiting ages to see you. We need to talk.”
At first I think this must be about Dillon. They have found him. But Rhys grabs my arm and pulls me from the middle of the pavement towards a bush, where we are only slightly hidden from passing cars.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t know which will be worse: news of Dillon or Rhys being here just to see me.
“Why aren’t you answering my calls, Callie? I’ve been going out of my mind. Worrying about you, worrying about Dillon.”
“You shouldn’t be thinking about me, Rhys. It’s over. You know that.”
He shakes his head. “You promised me we could talk. When? I need to talk to you.” Part of me wants to scream at him that he should be thinking about Dillon at this moment and whatever has happened between us shouldn’t matter anymore. But I stifle this thought. I don’t want to talk about Dillon.
I look at my watch. It’s nearly ten o’clock and James will be expecting me back. “Well, I’m here now. We can talk for a minute but then I have to get home.”
Rhys shakes his head, drawing closer towards me. “No, not here. Not in the middle of the street. You owe me more than that, Callie.”
I cringe when he says my name. He has no right now. “There’s nothing to talk about. I won’t change my mind. I wish you would get that through your head.” I almost spit my words and Rhys looks taken aback. I have had all I can deal with from him; I just want him to leave me alone. He doesn’t say anything so I carry on. “I’m going now. Don’t come to the house again. James will let you know if we hear from Dillon. Okay?”
I turn my back to him and begin to walk off but he grabs my shoulder and forces me around. “I won’t let this go. James should know the truth. You’ve lied to us all. I’m telling him everything.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Luke and I sit together in the living room. The television is on but neither of us is watching. My textbook is on my lap, open at the page I should be reading, and Luke plays half-heartedly on his Nintendo DS. Since Dillon went missing it has become his constant companion. And he even seeks out my company, just to fill the void his brother’s absence has left. He is supposed to be at school today but claims to have a stomach ache so James has allowed him to stay at home. But both of us know the more likely truth: he is too distraught to drag himself there.
James is out searching again today while I look after Luke. He has urged me not to leave the house in case Dillon returns or there is news, making me promise that if I need anything I will call him so he can get it while he is out. If he does come home, I have strict orders to alert James the second he appears. Even after six days, his hope has not diminished.
I am relieved that James is out of the house. Since Rhys’ threat last night I have been on edge, wondering when he will show his face here. At least he can’t get to James for now; he won’t know his mobile number, and bumping into him is unlikely. Rhys should be at school today but he has the excuse of his best friend being missing to blag a day off.
“Can I have a drink, please?” Luke asks, clutching his stomach but not letting go of his DS. It is a pleasure to be asked so nicely; it’s all I’ve wanted for nearly a year. To have a role in the boys’ lives. I never expected to take Lauren’s place, just to be given a chance to be there for them. Perhaps it is true that trauma brings people closer together. But it’s a shame it’s had to come at such a cost.
While I’m pouring a glass of apple juice, the home phone rings. I have brought it into the kitchen with me; since last night I have kept it by my side, telling James I am filtering calls for him, so he doesn’t have to deal with all the questions and updates people are desperate for.
Even though I know there is every chance Rhys will be on the other end, I am still shocked when he begins speaking. He is obviously serious about carrying out his threat because he had no way to know I would answer.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, cutting him off midsentence. I haven’t even heard what he’s said. I glance at the kitchen door to make sure it’s closed.
“You have to meet me, Callie. Tonight. We need to talk.”
“We’ve been over this. There’s nothing to –”
“This won’t go away, Callie.
I
won’t go away. In fact, I thought Dillon’s dad would answer just now. I thought he’d be by the phone, waiting for news.”
I have never heard Rhys speak like this before, calm and measured, as if he has clearly thought out what he is doing. Even last night his words were thrown at me in anger. This is worse. Anger can be calmed down, pacified. But this is final. I should meet him, put a stop to his obsessive behaviour for good. I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t live in fear of when he will appear and ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to keep hold of.
“Okay,” I say.
The silence that follows is a measure of his shock. I have given in and perhaps he thinks if he can persuade me this far, I can be talked into more. But this is fine. I will let him believe it for now.
“I’ll pick you up on the corner of your road at eight o’clock. Don’t be late because I won’t be able to hang around.”
“It’s okay, my parents are away. You can come to the house.”
I remember them arriving home the last time I was there, how I missed them by seconds. There is no way I can risk Rhys arranging something else like that. And how can I trust him now that he knows it’s over? In fact, meeting up tonight is starting to feel like a terrible idea, at least until I’ve had more time to figure it all out, make sure I’ve considered every scenario. This feels too rushed.
When I remind him what happened last time, insisting it’s not a good idea to meet tonight, he gets defensive. “I didn’t lie to you, Callie. They
were
meant to be going to my grandparents’ but on the way there, Grandpa called to say Nana wasn’t feeling too well. So they had to turn around. I didn’t know!”