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The Reunion: An utterly gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist by Samantha Hayes (39)

Chapter Forty

Callum switched the headlights to main beam. It wasn’t completely dark yet, but he wanted to illuminate the narrow lanes as much as possible. The hedges seemed to be closing in around them, with the matted gorse and weeds obscuring the view of the surrounding fields. ‘Stupid bloody girl,’ he said under his breath. Claire was staring intently out of the Range Rover windows, peering left then right. ‘She’ll probably turn up in the dead of night again, waking us all up.’

‘Sorry, love?’ Claire replied, winding down the window.

‘Nothing,’ he muttered, swinging the vehicle hard left.

‘Try to be a little bit more sympathetic, Cal,’ Claire said. ‘Maggie’s getting really worried.’

There was no doubt in his mind that the girl was a wretched nuisance. He’d planned to work on his research paper tonight and had an early clinic in the morning. The last thing he needed was to be searching for some kid he would never see again after this week. And even that would be too soon, he thought, clenching his teeth.

‘Let’s drive past the shops at the beach again. I want to have one final check.’

Callum knew there was no point protesting. Nick had also gone out in his car; they’d passed him about ten minutes ago. They’d pulled up alongside each other in the narrow lane, windows wound down, though neither of them had anything to report. Jason and Marcus were out searching on foot, knocking on doors in the village, checking with Marcus’s friends in case they’d seen her.

‘Mags, it’s me,’ Claire said, as they bumped along the lane. The phone signal was patchy. ‘No, nothing. Yes, I agree. It’s been long enough. And listen, don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll be fine.’ She hung up and turned to Callum. ‘Maggie’s going to call the police.’

Callum simply nodded and drove to the shops.

Fuck.


It was 10.15 p.m. when a car pulled down the drive to Trevellin. Maggie was watching out of the kitchen window, praying for Rain to return or the police to arrive.

She dashed to the back door, catching sight of the yellow flashes along the side of the car, feeling sick to her stomach at what it meant. When Claire had told her what Marcus had said about Rain going off to the shop, neither of them had mentioned the obvious, the unspeakable. The similarities were already too horrific to contemplate.

A woman, mid-thirties, got out of the car. Her hair was cropped and she was wearing police uniform. She walked up to the house, looking around the courtyard, her face breaking into a cautious smile when she caught sight of Maggie at the door.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Maggie said, holding the door open.

‘I’m PC Steph Wyndham. My colleague has been held up, but he’ll be along shortly.’ She held out her hand and Maggie shook it lightly, introducing herself.

‘Please, come through.’ Maggie’s voice was fragile and choked. ‘I’m really sorry to have to call you out. Knowing Rain, she’ll turn up any moment wondering what all the fuss is about.’ She attempted a laugh but stopped. The officer was looking around the kitchen, frowning, deep in thought, making a puzzled face as if she knew something. As if Trevellin itself was the keeper of dark secrets.

PC Wyndham put her clipboard and radio on the kitchen table, giving cursory nods to the others present. ‘I understand you’ve reported a missing person? A teenager?’

‘Yes, my daughter, Rain. She didn’t come back from the beach with the others this afternoon.’ Maggie glanced at her watch. ‘It’s been over six hours. Look, I’m really worried about her. This really isn’t like her.’ As the evening had worn on, everyone had returned from searching and gathered in the kitchen, with Callum saying he’d been on to the coastguard again. No one had anything to report.

‘OK, Maggie. Let’s get things rolling. Is there somewhere private we can sit?’

‘Feel free to use the snug,’ Shona piped up, leading them through. The PC opened her mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. Shona closed the door, leaving them in private.

It was much cooler in the little sitting room and the two women sat side by side on a floral sofa – Maggie perching nervously on the edge. PC Wyndham had her clipboard resting on her knee, pen poised. ‘What’s your daughter’s name, love?’

‘Rain,’ Maggie replied. ‘Rain Carr.’

‘That’s pretty,’ she said, writing it down. ‘So, you said she was at the beach this afternoon.’

‘Yes, Trevellin Bay. We’d all gone down for a picnic lunch. We’re all old friends. We’re having a get-together. A reunion. Anyway, the kids – the teenagers – decided to sit up by the rocks away from the adults. I went off for a walk at around two o’clock. I was gone quite a while. That was the last time I saw her. When I came back, she’d already left the beach. I didn’t think anything of it at the time.’

‘So you didn’t see her after your walk?’

‘No.’

‘How long did you walk for?’

‘An hour or two. I’d gone up and down the beach a couple of times, then carried on along the cliff path at the end of the bay, where it runs north past the row of shops.’

‘OK.’ She wrote everything down. ‘And what was Rain wearing?’

Maggie felt like falling into the PC’s arms – anyone’s arms – and sobbing until she was convinced everything would be fine. Instead, she let out a stifled hiccup. ‘I know she took her pink bikini with her because I saw it hanging out of her bag, and she wore her denim shorts to go down to the beach. She had on a pale-blue tunic top, I think. It’s decorated with sequins and has butterfly sleeves.’

‘Will you describe her for me, please?’

‘She’s beautiful.’ Maggie let out a longer sob. ‘And this really isn’t like her, officer.’ This was different to when Rain stayed out late at night. It didn’t feel right. ‘She’s about five feet seven tall. She’s got sandy-blonde hair about down to here with lots of highlights and waves.’ Maggie indicated around her chest. ‘And really bright blue eyes. Like her dad,’ she added when the detective stared at her dark ones. ‘She’s a slim build.’ Maggie bit her lip, fighting back tears. ‘Too slim, I sometimes think.’

‘Any distinguishing marks. Scars or moles?’

‘She has a tattoo on her ankle. And her belly button is pierced. I didn’t really want her to have either, but she just went ahead and got them done.’ Maggie rolled her eyes.

‘What’s the tattoo of?’

‘It’s on her left ankle. I feel a bit responsible, to be honest.’ Maggie sighed, remembering the first time she’d seen it. Rain had clearly drawn inspiration from the necklace she’d been constantly wearing at the time. ‘I can draw it for you, if you like.’

‘Yes, that would be helpful in just a moment.’ The officer put down her pen. ‘Is Rain the rebellious type? Do you think she could have done this on purpose to annoy you or her father?’

‘She’s feisty, but show me a teenage girl who isn’t.’ Maggie covered her face, her hands trembling. ‘She goes off partying and sometimes stays out all night and it never worries me. I know she’ll be safe because she’s with her friends. They all look out for each other. But going off on her own and not telling me, that’s what bothers me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘There’s simply nothing to go off for around here. She won’t have gone fishing or taken a bike ride or anything like that. She hates that kind of thing. Rain was bored of being here already, I know that much.’

‘If she was fed up, could she have gone home?’

Maggie shook her head, wondering where it was exactly that Rain considered home to be. ‘She has no way of getting there, and besides, she only took a bit of loose change to the beach. Her phone and purse are upstairs in her room. She never normally goes anywhere without them.’ She stifled another sob. Breaking down would make it real, and she wasn’t sure she could stand that.

Someone was tapping on the sitting room door. When Maggie looked up, another officer in uniform was standing there. He was tall and stooping slightly to avoid hitting his head on the low beams.

‘Ah, PC Holt,’ the officer said. ‘Come and join us. I’m just taking some basics.’ She introduced Maggie. ‘Is Rain’s father here? We’d like to speak to him too.’

‘We’re not together.’ Maggie pressed her hands together in her lap, staring at the carpet for a moment. She felt her cheeks burning.

‘Do you think she might have gone to see her father in that case?’ the male officer suggested, sitting down.

Maggie shook her head. ‘He rarely sees her. We’re not married and we’ve never lived together.’ When she was forced into explaining, she always tried to avoid detail.

‘I take it you’ve already called him to check

‘No.’ Maggie looked away for a second. ‘It’s complicated,’ she added, sighing. ‘He’s a high-profile MP. And he’s married to someone else.’ There. She’d said it. Now she would just wait for them to put two and two together.

She’d always worried about her dirty little secret getting out, worried even more about kidnapping if it did. Surely, the police would pick up on that possibility too? It might focus Peter’s mind if they did.

Her hands shook as she waited but they said nothing. They just sat staring at her. She swallowed. ‘What you need to understand is that my daughter, however wild, however stubborn, however hormonal and crazy, would not take off without telling me where she was going, even if it was with her father. And she especially wouldn’t go without her purse or phone. She was only wearing beach clothes and not much else. She has no friends around here and it is now going on eleven o’clock at night. I just know that something bad has happened to her. Do you think she’s been taken… by someone who maybe knows about her father? Do you think there’ll be demands for money?’ Maggie swallowed again, staring at the floor.

‘Did the others at the beach say where she was going?’ PC Holt sat down next to his colleague, ignoring Maggie’s question. ‘Your friends in the kitchen gave me a brief rundown.’

Maggie closed her eyes and thought. She imagined Rain slipping on her shorts and top at the beach and cheerfully saying goodbye to Marcus and the others. In reality, she saw Rain cursing them for being so boring, cursing the entire week for being so lame, and stomping off on her own. She drew a deep breath, hardly able to get out what Claire had told her. Getting her story right was vital. ‘According to Marcus, Claire’s son, she… she said she was going off to get an ice cream from the beach shop.’ It came out in a breathy rush, as if she was drowning.

‘OK,’ PC Wyndham said, not knowing the significance. ‘Try not to get too worried at this stage. In most cases, missing persons turn up very quickly. But we’ll put out all the usual alerts, get it on the system. Meantime, I’d like to speak to a couple of your friends.’

‘Of course,’ Maggie said. She blew her nose and made to move, but the officer placed a hand on her arm.

‘You said you’d draw your daughter’s tattoo.’ She handed over her notepad and pen.

Maggie stared at the blank page, remembering the moment she’d first spotted it on Rain’s ankle a year ago. Her loose trousers had ridden up as she’d sat cross-legged on the floor, the freshly inflamed skin around the simple black design making Maggie’s heart pound. Even the cling film protecting it couldn’t hide the infection. But it was the design that made Maggie breathless. A course of antibiotics soon cleared up the redness, but the ink was still there to remind Maggie of her guilt forever. She hated what she’d done now, but as a kid her jealousy had burnt deep. Claire had had it all, hadn’t she? The happy family, the devoted parents, the beautiful home. And at the time she’d convinced herself it wasn’t actually stealing. But then, last year, she’d rediscovered the little pendant hidden away in an old trinket box she’d forgotten about and had taken to wearing it. It had obviously caught Rain’s eye.

She handed the notebook back to the officer. ‘That’s the tattoo,’ she said. ‘On her left ankle.’

PC Wyndham nodded and showed it to PC Holt. ‘We’ll get this circulated along with her description,’ she said. ‘Perhaps we could speak to your friend Claire now?’

Maggie stood, leaving the officers alone for a moment while she went to fetch her. They didn’t know of the significance of the ankh symbol – the little silver charm on the pair of necklaces Patrick had bought for his daughters all those years ago; wouldn’t know that Lenni’s had been found, along with her shorts, in the grass verge after she’d gone missing.