The Woman Who Lied(35)
Confusion floods Emilia. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Nancy and Jas … Is something wrong?’ There is alarm in her voice now.
‘Jas told me she was staying the night at your house. I’ve just had a phone call from a hospital to say Jasmine’s been involved in an accident.’
‘What? They weren’t here last night. Nancy told me she was staying with you. They’re not with you?’
‘I’m sorry, they’re not. I …’ Her voice rises in hysteria. ‘So they aren’t at yours?’
‘No. Oh, God. If Jasmine’s at the hospital, is Nancy with her?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t understand what’s going on.’
‘I’ll try Nancy’s mobile. I’ll call you back.’
She ends the call and Emilia takes a deep breath, trying to quell the panic. ‘Where have they been all night?’ she wails. ‘And how has Jas ended up in hospital?’
Elliot grips the steering wheel more tightly. ‘Don’t worry about that at the moment. Nancy is probably at the hospital too. We just need to hope Jas is okay.’
Emilia takes deep breaths to stop herself hyperventilating.
‘Is Jas okay?’ pipes up Wilfie, in a frightened voice, from the back.
‘I hope so, sweetheart,’ Emilia says faintly.
‘I’m sure she’s fine, Wilfie. Don’t worry,’ says Elliot, trying to sound reassuring. To Emilia he says, ‘Why don’t you ring the hospital and get some more information?’ He takes the turning towards Isleworth slightly too quickly, the phone almost slipping out of Emilia’s shaking hands. She presses the number in her call history but it’s dead.
‘That’s odd.’
‘What is?’
‘I just tried to call the number that rang me earlier but it’s not connecting.’ She googles the number of the hospital and, after being passed from person to person, gets to speak to someone in Admissions.
‘I’m sorry,’ the woman is saying on the phone. ‘But we haven’t had any admissions under the name of Jasmine Perry.’
Emilia feels like she’s been doused in cold water. ‘But I had a phone call from someone this morning, just ten minutes or so ago, saying my daughter had had an accident so I’m assuming she came through A and E?’
There is silence at the other end of the line, just the sound of a keyboard being tapped and a phone ringing in the background. ‘No,’ the woman says, coming back on the line. ‘There are no Jasmine Perrys here. I’m sorry but there has been some mistake.’
Emilia ends the call and swears in frustration.
‘What did they say?’ asks Elliot.
‘What’s going on?’ asks Wilfie, from the back seat.
‘I don’t know. I don’t understand. Jas hasn’t been admitted. For fuck’s sake, where is she?’ She taps on the Find My Friends app but there is no location for Jasmine, which means her phone must be turned off. All the horrors of what could have befallen her only daughter flash through her mind.
Elliot pulls the car onto double-yellow lines, then swivels in his seat so he’s facing Emilia. ‘Calm down, you’re scaring Wilf. Is the hospital one hundred per cent sure that Jasmine hasn’t been admitted?’
Emilia nods, panic sitting heavy on her chest so that she can’t breathe.
‘Then it sounds like a hoax call.’ There is relief on Elliot’s face.
But Emilia’s mind is spinning. ‘But if it’s a hoax call, where is Jasmine? Because she’s not at Nancy’s, like she said she would be. Oh, God, Elliot …’ She can barely bring herself to say it. ‘What if whoever is behind all this has done something to Jasmine?’
23
This. All this is her worst fear. Her very worst. She’s always kept Jasmine on a tight leash, fully aware that she’s more paranoid than a lot of other parents because she writes about such horrific things happening. Her eyes are wide open to the weirdos that lurk among them. After all, she’s imagined them for her thrillers: the paedophile hiding behind the respectability of a teacher, the psychopath lurking around children’s playgrounds, the men who pretend to be teenagers online in order to groom and violate.
She’s always been honest with her children from a reasonably young age about the dangers. Jasmine isn’t the kind of kid to lie, to put herself in harm’s way. When Emilia lectures her on talking to strangers online she’ll roll her eyes and say, in exasperation, ‘Do you think I’m stupid? I know it could be some pervy forty-year-old!’ Yet she pretended she was sleeping over at Nancy’s last night. A story, it was obvious now, that had been concocted between the two of them to hide what they were really up to, whatever that was. And all that would have been bad enough if it hadn’t been for the phone call. Because someone was privy to what they were up to. And had wanted her to know.
She’s on the verge of hysteria. It’s bubbling up inside her and it takes everything she’s got not to lose it because she knows that won’t help her daughter. This white-hot blind panic is like nothing she’s ever experienced before.
Emilia’s at Jonas’s house now, the house that used to be hers, where Jasmine took her first steps, said her first words. She’d rung her ex-husband from the car to tell him everything, and Elliot had dropped her there.