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I’m about to go downstairs, but first I rehang the spider. I hate it. But if my baby comes back and finds it down, what will I say?
If she comes back? If?
I’m about to call her again when I get a message from Sylvie’s mother:
Sorry. We haven’t seen Jenna for yonks. Sylvie says she saw her arguing with Rose at lunch and she thinks Jenna might have left the school. Don’t worry! You’ll find her. We should catch up!
Another message appears but before I can even start to read it’s deleted. I wonder what she said and took back, then remember the missing email about Georgia’s appointment. I thank Sylvie’s mother then I check my inbox again then my junk mail, just in case. And then…
I catch my breath. There it is, in deleted messages, an extra November update from PES.
I got it. Someone deleted it.
It was imperative for me – for my family – to know that Georgia Smith was being hired to teach at PES. Someone who knew that made sure I didn’t see the email. Someone who didn’t think to get rid of it from my trash.
But who? Georgia couldn’t have. The same person who got me fired? Who sent me a picture of Dan with another woman? Who took my daughter?
I hurry downstairs and rush into the kitchen, where I’m vaguely aware of my father pronouncing me ‘Late! Late! Late!’ and waving his dinner knife in the air like he’s conducting an orchestra or cutting off my head.
Who could have accessed my emails? No one could guess my password. Although, you’d only need access to my phone. And my password for that is written inside the case, because Jenna got tired of having to reset it for me.
And then there’s the other possibility: maybe I deleted it and don’t remember.
I remember again glancing at the photo and shoving it in the bin and the weeks spent not thinking about it.
Ash and Ava slip in and I see immediately they haven’t found Jenna.
‘And where have you been?’ asks Father.
They look over at me, mouths opening.
‘They were looking for Jenna,’ I say. ‘I can’t find her. The school can’t find her. I can’t get hold of?—’
‘So, that’s what you’ve been trying to get off your chest?’ asks Father. ‘Need I remind you of the silliness you got up to at that age?’ Father stares at me with raised eyebrows as the word ‘silliness’ takes root in my gut. ‘Let’s not make a fuss. It’s very late and we haven’t even said grace.’
Behind him, Mother starts piling food on plates. ‘I expect she just forgot to tell you where she was going,’ she says.
‘Good thinking, Dot,’ says Father. ‘Good brain work.’
I want to hug Mother, but it’ll only make things worse. I try to keep the frown off my face and clear my throat, gathering courage. ‘Georgia Smith is teaching at PES. She’s been teaching Jenna drama. And now Jenna’s missing. I’m very worried. The head is very worried. I think I need to call the police.’
‘Yes, well, teenagers,’ says Father. He pulls a silly face at Ash and Ava and they smirk.
I waited hours to speak to him before calling the police… for this?
Father picks his teeth. ‘I’m surprised you let them hire Georgia Smith though, Frances. I really am.’
‘The email about it was deleted from my inbox.’ I say it calmly, hoping the bare fact will break through his bluster.
‘I see. Someone call Bond. Your emails have been hacked. It’s a conspiracy.’
I blush and almost laugh at myself for being so silly – but I catch myself. This isn’t silly.
Mother places my food in front of me as I stand up. I have to get out and call the police.
‘Oh,’ says Mina, tapping at her phone. ‘Looks like I got the email about Georgia but I didn’t even open it. They send so much spam.’
