“I don’t think you’re paranoid or stupid, Julian. I think you’re way out of your depth, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I don’t intend to get hurt. Look, if I find out this Ginger is the woman I saw in the Merc, I’ll go to the police. I just want to be sure first.”
“Well, it’s your choice, but consider this, if Mia is still alive, the longer you keep this information from the police, the more you’re putting her at risk.”
These words gave Julian a jolt. “You mean like someone could be holding her prisoner somewhere.”
“Anything’s possible, although that seems unlikely. I was thinking more along the lines of her being with people she shouldn’t be with, doing things she shouldn’t be doing.”
Julian stopped listening after the first few words, his gaze moving past Mike to the police divers plunging into the water, a picture forming in his mind of Mia bound and gagged in some basement. The thought of her suffering because of the choices he made caused the weight on his heart to grow even heavier. He fingered the phone in his pocket, thinking, for fuck’s sake, Jake, ring! For a second, he considered going in search of Tom Benson, but a nagging uncertainty held him back. He exhaled a long, helpless breath.
“Go home, Julian,” said Mike. “You shouldn’t be hanging around here. If my fellow journos catch on who you are, they’ll be all over you. I’ll call you if they find anything.”
With a final lingering glance at the river, Julian trudged away from the bridge. He walked all the way home, knowing that when he got there there’d be nothing to do but sit and wonder about Mia, and wait for Jake to call. He had a strong, almost desperate, desire to see Eleanor and pour his fears into her sympathetic ears, but he knew it wasn’t possible. Not while there was even the slightest chance of endangering her. He couldn’t have lived with himself if he’d done that. When he got home, Mia’s disappearance was on the news. “Do you know about this?” asked his mum, turning shocked eyes on him. “Another girl’s gone missing. Her name’s Mia Bradshaw. Apparently, she was good friends with Joanne Butcher. They think she might’ve jumped off the bridge.”
Julian nodded. “They’re talking about it all over town.” It wasn’t an outright lie — people almost certainly were talking about it all over town — but it wasn’t the truth either, and so it left an unpleasant aftertaste. He looked at the TV so as not to have to look at his mum. The screen showed footage of the police scouring the river. A diver surfaced holding something aloft, and suddenly Julian’s heart was beating like he’d snorted coke. Relief took over as the camera homed in to reveal a slimy, bulging black plastic bag. If Mia was dead and someone wanted it to look like suicide, they’d hardly have stuffed her body into a bin-liner.
“Fifteen,” said Christine, shaking her head. “What a waste, what a horrible, horrible waste of life.”
“How are you feeling?” asked Julian, changing the subject.
“A bit groggy. I think the sedatives the doctor gave me are still washing round in my system.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“He’s got a headache. I told him to have a lie down. He spends so much time worrying over me, he forgets to look after himself.”
“I think I’ll go for a lie down, too.”
“Okay, darling.”
As Julian headed for his bedroom, Robert poked his head into the hallway and beckoned him into his room. His hair looked as if he’d been running his fingers through it. There was a telltale moist sheen on his pupils. Robert shut the door and, his drinker’s eyes narrowing, asked, “What do you know about this missing girl?”
Julian’s nose wrinkled slightly at the sour smell of whisky on his dad’s breath. “She was friends with Joanne-”
“Yes, yes, I know that,” Robert interjected. “What I’m asking you is, do you think she’s really jumped?”
Julian shrugged, his mind swaying between concern over his dad’s increasing drinking and wondering what his interest in Mia’s disappearance meant. It flashed through his mind that somebody had told his dad about him and Mia.
“So you don’t know this girl?”
“Only…only by sight.” Julian stammered over the lie. Faking a yawn in an effort to conceal his agitation, he started to turn to leave. But his dad caught hold of his shoulders, not letting him squirm away from his questioning gaze.
“You’re lying, Julian, I can tell. You know what I think? I think all this nonsense that’s being going on with you lately, the way you’ve been behaving, it’s got something to do with this girl.”
Julian blinked, taken aback at his dad’s insight. So someone has been talking, he thought — most probably Kyle out of spite, or maybe Eleanor out of concern. Hoping he was wrong, he said, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve seen her in The Cut a couple of times. That’s all.”
“So why were you at The High Bridge today?”
“Who told you I was there?”
“It doesn’t matter who. You were seen.”
That didn’t surprise Julian. His dad was an influential man with a lot of eyes around the town. “I went because I wanted to see for myself what was going on. Have you forgotten that I found Joanne Butcher?”
“How the hell could I forget that?” Robert pursed his lips irritably. Then, making an obvious effort to keep his voice low and calm, he said, “Look, all I want to know is the truth.”
You and me both, thought Julian. “I’m telling you the truth.”
“I don’t buy that one bit.” Robert shook his head with a saddened air. “What’s happened to you, Julian? Since when did you start lying?”
Julian made a contemptuous hissing sound. “Around the same time as you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know fucking well what I mean. Look at you. You’re so stressed you can’t get through the morning without a drink.”
Robert scowled, his temper flaring. “Don’t swear at me you little sh-” He caught the word on his lips, inhaled deeply through his nose, then continued, “Of course I’m stressed out, Julian. Your mum — my wife — who I love more than my life has an inoperable brain aneurysm that might pop and kill her at any second.”
“That’s not just it. Mum’s been ill for years and I’ve never seen you like this before. Admit it, Dad, it’s the factory. The factory’s struggling.”
Robert looked at Julian in silent indecision. Twice he glanced at the door, as if trying to work out if anyone was listening at it. Then, his voice dropping even lower, he said, “Okay, so business is a bit tight right now. We’ve been having some problems.”
“Such as?”
“Well, for a start, our biggest supplier has put up their prices by twenty percent in the last year. Also, we’ve lost a couple of big customers recently.”
“And does Mum know about this?”
“Of course not, and there’s no need for her to.” Robert’s voice contained a warning note.
“Oh right, so it’s okay for you to lie and keep things from her, is it?”
“This is totally different, Julian. Sometimes you have to lie to protect people.”
“Yeah, well maybe that’s what I’m doing.”
“So Mia Bradshaw’s still alive.” Robert’s drink-shot eyes stared intensely into Julian’s. “Where is she?”
“How should I know if she’s alive or where she is?”
“You just implied that you’re protecting her.”
Julian tried to shrug off his dad’s hands, but their hold on him tightened almost painfully. “This isn’t a fucking game, Julian.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because if you really do, you’ll tell me the truth.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
Robert studied Julian a moment, then said gravely, “I hope so, because this is the kind of thing that wrecks lives — and I’m not just talking about one life, Julian. If something happens to Mia Bradshaw because you didn’t do the right thing, you’ll carry that with you forever.”
Do the right thing. Those words throbbed in Julian’s head like an anxious heart. Doing the right fucking thing’s all I want to do, he felt like yelling. He brought his arms up between his dad’s and thrust outwards, knocking his grip loose. Then he turned for the door. “Wait,” said Robert, his voice almost imploring. “Just tell me one thing.
