Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Helen had hardly pressed the bell, when the door was flung open. It was almost as if Sheila Watson had been expecting her, lying in wait in the hallway. The middle-aged mother looked like she hadn’t slept a wink, drawn and pale, determined to stay awake in case of any developments, some positive news about her missing daughter. But Helen had none to give her today. Shepherding the desperate mum inside, she was quick to get to the point.
‘I’m really sorry to have to tell you this, Sheila,’ Helen said briskly, ‘but our working theory is that Naomi has been abducted.’
Sheila stared at Helen blankly, fiddling feverishly with the buttons on her cardigan.
‘We believe she spent the night of the ninth of November sheltering in an underpass a mile east of Hoglands Park …’
Sheila shuddered at the thought of her baby girl ending up in such a revolting place, but Helen knew there was worse to come.
‘… and that at some point during that night she was picked up and driven off by a motorist passing through the tunnel. We don’t yet know if she went willingly, if she knew whoever picked her up …’
‘She wouldn’t know anyone who could pick her up,’ Sheila responded, alarmed. ‘Her dad’s in the States, my sister’s in Wales and none of her friends drive. She’s fifteen, for pity’s sake …’
‘Exactly, so we have to assume she was driven out of the tunnel by a stranger.’
‘Could they not have been helping her?’ Sheila insisted. ‘A good Samaritan? A charity worker of some kind?’
‘Of course, that’s perfectly possible,’ Helen replied calmly, trying to reassure her. ‘But I am concerned by the fact that Naomi’s phone has not been switched on since last night. If she’d been taken to a hostel or place of sanctuary, I would have thought she would have charged it up, perhaps used it to contact you …’
‘She practically lived on that thing, it was impossible to get her off it,’ Shelia confirmed, visibly worried now.
‘Maybe she lost it, or had it stolen from her in the underpass,’ Helen continued. ‘But we also have to face the possibility that it’s been taken from her, deliberately discarded, that someone doesn’t want us to know where she is …’
Immediately, Helen regretted her candor, tears filling the desperate mother’s eyes.
‘But who would do such a thing? Where would they have taken her?’
‘We don’t know,’ Helen replied, leaning forward. ‘But trust me, Sheila, we are working night and day to find out where she is, so we can bring her home safe.’
Sheila nodded, but said nothing, staring down at her hands, as she toyed desperately with an eternity ring that clung fast to her ring finger.
‘This is my doing,’ she breathed through tears.
‘Absolutely not,’ Helen chided.
‘I drove her away, with my nagging, the endless arguments …’
‘No, no, you were trying to help her, to ensure she made the right choices.’
‘And what good did it do? Any of it? I’m her mother , it was my job to protect her …’
She stared up at Helen, tear-stained and fearful, as if the true horror of Naomi’s predicament was only now hitting home.
‘If anything happens to her, if she’s hurt, then it’ll be my fault …
‘No.’
The word shot out faster than Helen had intended, but she was quick to soften her response, grasping Sheila’s hands in hers.
‘Listen to me, Sheila, you have absolutely nothing to reproach yourself for. None of this is your fault.’
The stricken mother shook her head vigorously, her guilt total, but Helen persisted. ‘You have never been anything less than a committed, loving mother. You’ve made endless sacrifices to bring Naomi up right, to nurture her, to guide her, and you’ve done a great job.’
Another dismissive shake of the head.
‘Trust me, I would have given anything to have a tenth of the love and affection you’ve showered on Naomi. You’re an incredible mum and she’s a very lucky girl. And when we’ve found her, when we bring her back to you, I’m sure she’ll say as much herself.’
Helen knew she was going too far, but she couldn’t help it. Sheila’s fear, her distress was so overwhelming, her guilt so misplaced, that Helen felt she had to buoy her up, even at the risk of giving her false hope. Moreover, Helen actually meant what she said, ashamed to admit that she was actually a little jealous of the tender care Naomi had received. To her relief, Sheila now stemmed her tears, wiping them away, looking up at Helen entreatingly.
‘Do you really mean that?’
‘With all my heart.’
Taking her leave of the Watson home, Helen walked back to her bike, deep in thought. She was out of her comfort zone here, humbled by the vehemence of a mother’s love. Her own childhood had been so barren, so traumatic, that Helen had never felt its full force before. But she felt it now and it rocked her to the core, leaving her deeply moved, but also profoundly shaken. Naomi was Sheila’s whole world, her reason for living, the cornerstone of her heart, the focus of her hopes and dreams. In one way this was very affecting, but it also made the current situation even worse. If anything happened to Naomi, Sheila would never forgive herself. And neither would Helen. Marching back to her bike, wiping tears from her own eyes, Helen knew she had to find the missing teen – and fast .