I see another Poppy Munro poster. This one is stapled to a tree. I take out my pen.
And Hope Scott, Amina Musa, Sheryl Wilson.
Any information about them too.
By doing this I’m not only trying to jog memories, I also want their names to be remembered alongside Poppy Munro. I stick the real Poppy over the angel.
I see another poster.
And Hope Scott, Amina Musa, Sheryl Wilson.
Any information about them too.
Real Poppy.
And another.
And Hope Scott, Amina Musa, Sheryl Wilson.
Any information about them too.
Real Poppy.
I keep going until waves of tiredness make me stop.
The house is cold when I get indoors. I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom as I’ve being doing for the last few nights, so I don’t wake Joe. I catch my reflection in the hallway mirror as I head to the stairs. Hell on earth! I look terrible. Face drawn, eyes red. I see sorrow. I am the portrait of someone in mourning. I turn away towards the stairs and look up.
Joe is standing at the top. And he’s holding his carry-on travel bag.
‘Joe? What are you doing up?’ I whisper.
My pulse starts beating hard; please don’t let this be what I think it is.
Joe doesn’t answer. He can barely look at me as he comes down the stairs. In a daze I shift out of his way.
He looks at me, jaw muscles rigid. ‘I think it best that I go and stay with Dad for a couple of days.’ He sounds so remote. So un-Joe.
His dad lives in Brighton. ‘Why?’ I reach for him, but he flinches, takes a step back.
‘Why?’ he lobs back at me. ‘You need to ask me that after you’ve drifted home at some ungodly hour of the morning for the third day on the trot doing who knows what.’
I flounder around for words. ‘But—’
‘If I’d known what would have happened with that DNA test I would never have had contact with Miriam—’
Woah! ‘What did you just say?’
His expression falls, as he looks away, trying to backtrack. He croaks, ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
Two steps is all it takes for me to stride into his space. ‘What has Miriam got to do with the DNA test?’
Guilt? Denial? That’s what I try to see in his features when he turns his face to me. Please let it be denial. Let this be a mistake. What I see rocks me backwards because it’s worse than guilt. What I see is defiance. His cheeks redden, but his eyes are bold.
‘I’m not going to deny it. Guilty as charged,’ he affirms with confidence. ‘All I’ve ever wanted was your happiness. To see you safe and loved.’
‘What did you do?’ My voice is gritty.
‘The DNA sample was Miriam’s idea. She contacted me out of the blue, via email, and pleaded her case that her – your – father wanted to connect with the daughter he suspected he had.’ The air coming out of Joe hisses between us. ‘I didn’t really want to do it but then I thought about you looking for your mother and maybe the DNA test could kill two birds with one stone.’
Miriam? The sister I have a connection with, who I thought was on my side. She’s been keeping secrets from me. Why? Why? Is that why she’s disappeared?
Words are flying out of his mouth. ‘I thought I was helping you. Connecting you to the family you have longed to find. But don’t you see, it was all a set-up by Miriam and Danny. They used me. Since they came into your life things have become dangerous, scary. I’ve tried my best to help—’
‘Your best?’ I taunt. ‘They couldn’t have set me up, if that is what this is, without you.’ I look at the man I love. ‘How can I trust you after pulling a stunt like that?’
‘Trust?’ I see the fury surface in his eyes before it growls out of his mouth. ‘Let’s try this one on for trust: last week I accidentally opened a letter addressed to you from your manager, Janice Baker. It concerned your suspension from work.’
And that’s what I suddenly feel like: suspended, hanging from the ceiling, hands clawing around my throat fighting for air.
Joe continues, his voice wretched, his face colourless. ‘Since you started looking for your family, I’ve become a footnote in our relationship. I don’t even think you see me any more. And how ironic that if I had never answered Miriam’s email none of this would have happened.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t understand why you would do this behind my back?’
Joe considers me, face stark behind his glasses. ‘I thought that the best way for you to connect with Miriam and Danny was for me to stand back. I—’