Have You Seen Her: The new psychological thriller from bestseller Lisa Hall. Lisa Hall
why Laurel wasn’t there when she woke up, or all the times I’ve bathed Laurel and put her to bed, only for Fran to waltz in earlier than expected and then demand to know why Laurel wasn’t kept up to see her. You don’t always know which Fran you’re going to get.
‘Did you know them before you worked for them?’ Kelly asks, before looking away. ‘Sorry. I’m honestly not interrogating you. I just need to get a feel for things, it’s an important part of the investigation. You know we need to do everything we possibly can to find Laurel.’ She gives me a reassuring smile and I stare into my coffee cup, shaking my head.
‘No, I didn’t know them. I’d never even heard of Dominic, although apparently he’s top of his field and well known for what he does.’
‘But you grew up round here?’
‘No.’ I’m puzzled now. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Sorry.’ She gives me a proper smile now. ‘It’s just that you look familiar, and I thought maybe we went to school together or something. You must have one of those faces.’
‘That’ll be it.’ I manage to force the words out, the blood freezing in my veins. ‘We definitely don’t know each other.’ I slide off the stool the moment Dominic pokes his head around the doorframe, his face grave.
‘Anna? DS Wright wants to talk to us all. Can you come in?’
I nod, and follow him through into the living room, my heart starting to thunder in my chest. Has there been a development? Or has DS Wright found out what I so desperately wanted to keep a secret?
DI Dove is standing in front of the log burner, his hands clasped in front of him as I totter into the room on shaking legs. DS Wright looks small and frail next to his large frame. Fran still sits huddled up on the sofa, her face pale and drawn, already looking thinner, diminished somehow.
‘OK,’ DI Dove speaks, his voice a rumbling baritone that matches his dark, brooding looks. Italian, I think, or maybe Spanish. ‘I think we all know that now we are looking at the very real possibility that Laurel hasn’t simply wandered off. That someone else might be involved in her disappearance.’
There is a little squeak, and Fran presses her hands to her mouth, as Dominic sinks onto the cushion next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, trying to pull her in towards him. Sitting alone on the armchair opposite, I feel cold and sick, the headache I woke up with still pounding away at my temples.
‘We had people searching the field well into last night, and again since early this morning, and we have yet to uncover anything that might lead us to Laurel, or give us some idea about what might have happened to her. We still have a team of volunteers down at the site, all willing to continue the search and we have officers doing door-to-door questioning to see if anyone saw anything that might be of use.’
‘Well, that will help, won’t it?’ Fran asks, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. ‘Someone must have seen something, surely? It’s not like Laurel could just vanish into thin air!’ Her voice rises to almost a shriek and she cuts off abruptly.
‘There isn’t any CCTV footage along the lanes that lead to the field, which is not ideal, but this is a fairly close-knit community and I’m hoping that someone will have seen something, and even if it seems insignificant, that they’ll report it to us.’
To me, this doesn’t sound terribly hopeful at all, and the mention of CCTV makes my heart sink. The field is well away from the main roads, surrounded on all sides by tiny country lanes that lead miles into the surrounding areas of Surrey. An abductor could have travelled for miles in any direction before being picked up on a CCTV camera. Laurel could be anywhere.
‘We’ll also need to have a team of officers search the house,’ Dove says, as Dominic gets to his feet.
‘What? Why?’ Dominic demands, as Fran stands, reaching out a hand to him. ‘She didn’t go missing from here, did she? Why would you need to search our house?’ He is bemused, looking between the two investigating officers, as Dove tries to explain that it’s all part of the process.
‘Dominic, please,’ Fran cries, ‘please sit down and let them do their job. Please.’ Her voice breaks, and Dominic sits back down next to her, pulling her tight, even though her shoulders are rigid. I say nothing, my mind working overtime at the thought of there being a search of the house.
‘Is there anybody I can call for you?’ Kelly has slipped quietly into the room. ‘Anybody who you might like to come and sit with you, your parents or . . .’
‘No,’ Fran says shortly, shaking her head. ‘I haven’t seen my father for years, and my mother lives in Dubai. There’s not a lot she can do from there.’ Despite her faded pallor, and the way she wrings her fingers together, there is a hint of the old Fran in her clipped tone.
‘What about Polly?’ Dominic asks.
‘Polly?’ Fran snaps back at him. ‘Don’t be so bloody ridiculous!’
‘Sorry, can I ask . . . who is Polly?’ Kelly asks, as I look on in confusion. I have no idea who Polly is either.
‘Polly is Fran’s sister,’ Dominic sighs, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.
‘Yes, my sister, who Dominic can’t bear.’ Fran gets to her feet. ‘In fact, Dominic can’t bear her so much that I lost contact with Polly years ago – just to make Dominic happy.’
‘Oh, come on, Fran, that’s not strictly fair . . .’
‘Mr and Mrs Jessop.’ DS Wright’s voice cuts through the thick, tense atmosphere. ‘Please.’
Fran sits back down, on the edge of the armchair, out of Dominic’s reach. ‘The last I knew Polly was living somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, but that was ages ago. My mother keeps in contact with her, Polly regularly goes over to visit her.’
‘Right. Anna? Anyone you want to contact?’ DS Wright turns to me and I shake my head slowly, trying my hardest not to shrink away from her gaze. There is no one, not right now. ‘Seeing as we don’t have any leads so far, I wanted to ask you if there is anyone you can think of who might want to . . . who might have a grudge against you? Who might have taken Laurel. Anyone suspicious hanging around, anyone you may have felt uncertain about?’
‘No one that I can think of,’ Dominic says, a deep V appearing between his brows as he frowns. Dominic wouldn’t notice anyone hanging around though, I think, he’s never here. As the words float through my mind Fran speaks.
‘How would you know, Dom? I mean really, how would you know? You’re always at the hospital.’
‘There hasn’t been anyone hanging around,’ I butt in, before they start sniping at each other again. ‘I’m the one who spends most of my day here, at the house, or out and about with Laurel and I’m certain I haven’t seen anybody unusual or suspicious hanging around.’
‘Well, what about Pamela?’ Fran throws out, spitting the words at Dominic from across the room. The air between them is so thick you could cut it with a knife, and I hope that neither DI Dove or DS Wright thinks that the atmosphere here is always like this, even though sometimes, it can be.
‘Jesus Christ, Fran, you’re clutching at straws! Don’t be so . . . God.’ Dominic gets to his feet and starts pacing as the police officers say nothing, only watch.
‘Clutching at straws!’ Fran cries. ‘Of course I am, Dominic! My child is missing! My daughter is out there, somewhere, with God only knows who . . .’ Her voice cracks and she covers her face with her hands. Kelly moves towards her, and Fran stiffens as Kelly’s arm goes around her shoulders.
‘Sorry . . . who is Pamela?’ DI Dove asks quietly, clearly accepting the heightened emotion in the room as he seems completely unfazed.
‘No one,’ Dominic says, ‘no one important, or relevant. She’s an ex-girlfriend.’ He suddenly sounds very tired. ‘I went out with her before