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‘Where are you now?’
Fuzz comes down the line and what he says sounds like techno music.
‘Dan?’
‘Hello? I’m, ah, coming up to Swindon.’
‘You’re four hours away? When were— I told the police you were coming from Exeter. They’re expecting to have spoken to you already.’
‘I… Frankie, I’m sorry.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’
‘I – uh… I guess I was hoping she’d turn up.’
I roll up my dress to study the cuts, the fresh superglue like bloody snail trails.
‘Frankie? I’m sorry. I’ll explain when I see you. I thought I’d be back earlier. I guess I didn’t want to believe this was happening. I’m sorry.’
I ignore him and tell him about the police, the search, the weirdness with the necklace and Ash and Ava, my brother and parents refusing to be interviewed, Glastonbury, the bullying, the fact that Jenna doesn’t have any friends, and we didn’t know. We didn’t see she was struggling.
‘Of course she’s struggling.’ His voice slices through my monologue, sharp, clipped.
‘What?’
‘We don’t talk about it because we’re Beaufort-Bradleys, but we all know she’s struggling, don’t we, Frances?’
It’s my turn to be speechless. We all know?
And he isn’t a Beaufort-Bradley, actually. His surname is Mayfield.
He sighs. ‘She really could be at Glastonbury. She wanted to go. We should’ve—’ The line goes crackly.
‘Dan?’
There’s a noise like hail, and then he’s gone.
I try calling him. Again. Again. I squeal and throw my phone at the sofa.
We all know she’s struggling, don’t we, Frances?
I recall Jenna’s sixteenth birthday, the wall of his back as he stalked off, disgusted with me.
He knew. He thinks I knew too.
He told me once he pretended to love her like a father when we first got together, but then one day it just started hitting him in waves, how wonderful she was, how much he loved her, how he really was her father and couldn’t imagine life without her.
Has he been trying to talk to me about this?
Is this why he’s cheating on me?
I pick at the superglue, opening the cuts for the third time.
I try him again then call back the unknown number. It rings and rings and I’m sure they’re not going to pick up but then:
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, I had a missed call?’
