I wasn’t expecting this. I thought the person looking for Sophie would be somewhat rougher. Angrier. More intimidating somehow. But maybe that’s his plan. Maybe he’s trying to appear nice to lull me into a false sense of security, so that I’ll give Sophie up.
I flinch as he pulls something out of his hoodie pocket. But then I realise it’s just a phone. He taps the screen a couple of times and holds it out. ‘This is my wife. This is Sophie. Don’t suppose you’ve seen her?’ He swallows. ‘I’m really worried for her safety. She has a few issues.’
Issues?The photo on the phone is indeed one of Sophie. She’s standing in a sunny garden, the light shining on her face. She’s radiant; smiling at the person taking the photo. I really want to ask him about the issues he’s talking about. I want to question this man about Sophie and what he’s done to make her so afraid of him. But I can’t let him know that I’ve seen her. That she is, in fact, staying in my attic. So I frown and shake my head. ‘She doesn’t look familiar. Is she from around here?’ I wonder if my lies are convincing.
He looks disappointed, his shoulders sagging. He massages his temple. ‘We live just outside town. Sophie disappeared some time during Tuesday night. It was weird – I woke up and she was gone. But she wouldn’t just leave like that, not without saying anything. We’re in love. We have a great relationship. Something must have happened…’ He puts the phone back in his pocket and starts scratching his forearm. ‘So? Are you sure you haven’t seen her?’
‘Sorry, I don’t think so, no.’
‘Think hard. Maybe you passed her in town, or on the street. She’s not a forgettable person.’ His eyes are boring into mine. I’m convinced he must know I’m lying.
‘Like I said, I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen her before. Have you been to the police? Reported her missing?’
‘They’re useless. I know they don’t believe me. They think she must have left willingly. But she wouldn’t do that.’
I find it interesting that he’s saying he’s reported her missing to the police. I wonder if he really has. Because if he’s been abusive towards her, then would he really go to the police? But then again, other people’s issues are often more complicated than they first seem. There are always two sides to every story. Not that there’s any excuse to treat another person badly, but the man before me seems so sincere.
He pulls something else out of his pocket. It looks like a piece of scrunched-up paper, but then I see it’s actually a small pile of paper slips. He hands one to me. ‘Here’s my name and phone number, in case you see her. Even if you’re unsure whether it’s my wife or not, will you call me? Because I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, not until I know she’s okay.’
‘Uh, sure.’ I glance at the slip and see the nameGregfollowed by some scribbled digits.
‘Greg.’
He nods.
‘What’s your last name?’
‘Jones.’
‘Greg Jones? And your wife is called Sophie? So, Sophie Jones, yeah?’
His eyes narrow.
‘In case I see her.’
His shoulders relax. ‘I’m really worried for her safety. I feel like I’m in a nightmare.’
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was telling the truth. ‘If I see her I’ll call you.’ The lie catches in my throat and I cough.
‘Thanks,’ he mutters.
‘Good luck.’ I swallow.
He fixes me with a final, piercing stare that quite unnerves me. Then he nods and walks away.
I close the door and realise that my whole body is shaking. That I can hardly breathe. I only hope I managed to keep my nerves hidden well enough from him, because if he suspects Sophie’s here, I don’t know what he’ll do. Maybe everything he said about going door to door was a lie. Maybe he already knows she’s here. He could possibly have spotted her through the window at some time over the past day. I rush back into the lounge and stare critically at both windows – the curtains are fully drawn with no gaps, and the blinds are closed behind them. I’m sure there’s no way he could see anything through there.
But what about while I was out at work? Perhaps Sophie walked past an exposed window without thinking. Or maybe one of the kids let something slip at school? This is stupid. My imagination is running away. If he’s a dangerous person and he knows she’s here, he would have tried to force his way in. Surely he would have seemed more threatening and mean, but he just seemed worried and exhausted.
I’m tempted to peer out of the window to see if Greg really is going door to door. But I’m too nervous to look. What if he’s standing outside and watching the house? The thought makes me shiver.
‘Kelly…’ It’s Sophie calling down quietly from the top of the stairs. ‘Was it him? Has he gone?’
‘Stay up there,’ I hiss. ‘He could still be outside.’
‘Oh my God, itwashim wasn’t it? How did he know I was here? How did he find me?’
‘Shh. Let me just check the back door’s locked and then I’ll come upstairs.’
