Saving Sophie: A compulsively twisty psychological thriller that will keep you gripped to the very last page. Sam Carrington
I don’t think.’
‘You do realise they are likely to be together, then?’
‘That’d be good. I hope that’s the case. I’ll give Rach a call in a minute to check.’ Karen wandered into the kitchen, her mind afloat with thoughts of what might have happened to Sophie. And what might have happened to Amy. She flicked the kettle back on. More coffee was required. ‘I wonder if Liz has phoned the hospitals,’ she said, more to herself than Mike. She leaned against the worktop, and while waiting for the kettle, checked the Facebook app on her mobile again. More comments offering ‘hugs’ and a couple of people had asked about hospitals. The reply from Liz was, yes, they’d checked already.
The police were clearly next.
Not much she could do right now. She’d keep tabs on Facebook and, with luck, there’d be some news soon. She sighed. There was still the washing in the machine – Mike’s ranger uniform he needed for work tomorrow. She’d best dry that, he couldn’t go up on Dartmoor with damp clothes. And they hadn’t eaten – her mind had been too preoccupied to consider food.
Her chest tightened and the nervous feeling she was accustomed to squirmed in her stomach. There was so much to do tomorrow. She hated Mondays. On top of her daily household chores, she had the counselling. She put out both hands and spread them on the worktop to steady herself. She inhaled deeply through her nose, held it, then blew out of her mouth. Breathe. Repeat. The thought of facing the day with all the unanswered questions was daunting.
The ringing mobile stopped her thoughts. It was Rachel. At least a conversation with her oldest friend might lift her current mood and she could ask her to grill Erin about the taxi company. It’d be better if her own mother did it, rather than Karen stalking her on Facebook. It’d been a few weeks since she’d last spoken to Rachel properly, one thing or another preventing a call. They often went weeks, occasionally months, with only the odd text to check the other was fine. But it didn’t matter; their bond was too strong for a lapse in time to break it. Rachel was Karen’s rock and always had been. She wouldn’t have got through the last two years without her.
Karen quickly pressed to accept the call.
‘Hey, Rach. You beat me to it, I was about to call you.’
Her head was still woozy. Almost an entire day of feeling like death – had it been worth it? Sophie sat in the same position she’d been in for hours, her limbs aching with inactivity. Her thumb swept across the screen of her mobile, scrolling through the feeds on Facebook, checking for any news.
The ding sounded unusually loud in her quiet room – it wasn’t the noise for her usual notifications. She tapped the screen. A new email. She hadn’t had an email for a while, not having used her account for months. Within the message from the unknown sender was a link. She should ignore it, delete immediately; it could be spam, a virus. Her thumb moved to the delete tab, then stopped. The words made her hesitate:
You’re gonna want to see this. More will follow. Do you recognise her?
Without waiting to consider it any further, Sophie clicked on the link.
The picture was cropped. Faceless.
A black dress, hitched up, revealing bare legs. A small tattoo visible on one ankle.
She swallowed, the constriction of her throat making it painful.
She knew immediately who it was.
‘Did you know Amy is missing?’ Rachel’s soft voice was edged with anxiety.
‘Been keeping tabs on Facebook all day, do you know anything?’
‘Was hoping you did. She was with Sophie, wasn’t she?’
‘Honestly I’m at my wits’ end worrying about this. Well there’s a story – you know me, Rach, there’s always a story …’
There was a dry, nervous laugh, then: ‘Go on, spill it.’
Karen retold the events of the evening: the police, Sophie’s unfathomable ramblings about Amy, her complete lack of any memory of the night. Her eyes burned as new tears fell. Talking about it to Rachel brought it to life; seeing something unfold on social media was one thing, speaking about it was quite another. And now it was all too real; not distant, not happening to people she had never heard of. It was happening here, to those she loved and cared about.
‘Look, don’t get too worried. I haven’t spoken to Erin yet, perhaps she knows more. It may not be what we’re thinking.’
‘How come you haven’t spoken to Erin?’ Surely that was the first thing she should’ve done.
‘Mobile’s switched off. And she’s at Adam’s … you know he’s moved in with her, don’t you?’
‘No way! He only left yours four months ago. Oh, I’m really sorry, Rach, I’ve been a rubbish friend lately, you should’ve rung me …’ Karen’s free hand moved unconsciously to her face, running her thumb and forefinger along the bump on the bridge of her nose.
‘Yeah, well, you’ve had enough on your mind. It’s a story for another time – preferably over wine.’
‘That’s such a kick in the teeth. He’s an absolute idiot.’
‘You never did like him. Anyway, the thing is, the poxy house is right in the centre of Coleton, isn’t it, so of course Erin thinks it’s brilliant. Her dad’s suddenly the best thing since the invention of the mobile because he has a house nearer to her friends and her job. Barely see her at weekends now, she goes out in town, goes clubbing, then staggers home to him. And her.’
‘I guess it’s an ideal situation, a teenager’s dream,’ Karen huffed. ‘Sorry though, must hurt.’
‘Like a knife straight through my very soul. You know how much I’ve put into this family, how much I adore Erin. It’s killing me. He barely knew this woman before shacking up with her. But, let’s focus on Amy …’
‘Well, now you’ve told me this, I think it’s fairly obvious. I bet Amy’s with Erin at his. You’ll have to phone.’
There was a long silence. ‘Okay. If I have to.’
‘Um, yeah, you have to. You’re going to have to put all your resentment to one side, clear this up before the police get involved. If they haven’t already.’
‘I suppose I was hoping by phoning you first, you might already know where Amy was, stop me from having to humiliate myself.’
‘It’s just one quick call. Say what you have to, then go. Simple. Sorry I couldn’t be more help – it’s up to you, love.’
‘Cheers, mate,’ she laughed, ‘I’ll let you know the outcome.’
‘Thanks, but please, for heaven’s sake, let Liz know first, she’s beside herself.’
‘Of course. Right. Let’s sort this out.’
Karen released a large lungful of air. Another ten minutes or so and this will be over. At least, the part about Amy being missing. The rest was only just starting: there was still the matter of Sophie’s missing two and a half hours between being put in a taxi and being brought home by the police. She wasn’t sure