How do you tell a man his daughter has been kidnapped? How do you ask for two million pounds?
‘Do you have a whisky or something?' I ask.
‘Oh God,’ Julia groans. ‘Something’s happened, hasn’t it?’
We move into the lounge. My eyes land on the photo on the wall above the mantel: me, Jo and Joel. It was taken just after Joel was born. We’re smiling, holding hands, in a perfect moment frozen for all time.
Julia says, her voice cracking, ‘Please, Daniel, just tell us.’
Donald pours three whiskies in silence. His eyes, always sharp and judging, are softer now. His expression suggests concern but is otherwise unreadable. ‘Spit it out,’ he says.
I grip the glass. ‘Jo’s been kidnapped.’
Julia gasps, sinking into a chair as if the words have knocked her off her feet. ‘Oh God. I’ve always been afraid of something like this.’
I explain everything: the gym, her walk home, the unanswered calls and the voice on the phone demanding money.
‘That’s why you called us,’ Donald says, more to himself than to me.
I nod. ‘He wants two million. Half this week. Half next. Then he’ll let her go.’
Julia stands, reaching for the phone. ‘I’m calling the police.’
‘No!’ I snap. ‘He said no police. He said he was watching me. I don’t know how many of them there are, or if Jo is even still…’ I can’t finish the sentence.
Julia drops her head into her hands. ‘My worst nightmare,’ she whispers.
I steady my voice. ‘I’ve got money, but it’s all tied up. The flat. The house. Even with a remortgage…’
‘I’m calling them,’ she says again, picking up the phone.
Donald takes it from her gently. ‘We need to think, Julia.’
‘He’s watching,’ I say again. The whisky burns on the way down, but it helps.
‘Joel?’ Julia asks suddenly. ‘Who’s with him?’
‘Gil. He’s fine. He doesn’t know.’
She exhales hard, her shoulders sagging. ‘Thank God.’
Donald sets down his glass. ‘We need proof that Jo’s alive.’
Julia turns on him. ‘She’s ourdaughter. This is not one of your business deals.’
‘We can’t risk losing herandthe money.’
I should have known. With Donald, it was never going to be easy.
‘Just pay them,’ Julia says. Her voice trembles with anger.
Donald opens a drawer and pulls out a notepad.
‘It’s not a new contract,’ Julia snaps.
‘You want her back?’ he says flatly. ‘Then let’s get it right. Daniel could make a mistake. It’s best he keeps notes.’
I ignore the sting in his words.
