Chapter 25 #3
“She said something about Stefan – Stefan said she was a better gardener than her father – but then she went off on a tangent that was barely understandable.” She used a napkin to wipe her fingers. “I contacted Doctor McKay.”
“Why didn’t you contact us?”
“You were already suspicious. If I said anything about a change in Lily’s behaviour, she’d have been suspect number one in your case.”
“And she probably should be. If she’s involved in the fire that nearly killed a child, you could’ve prevented that.” It was a low blow.
Tabitha shook her head. “I can’t imagine her being involved in that.
Not the Lily I know. But I am worried, Detective.
I’ve not heard from her, and she’s not been at home.
That house is her safe space. She’s lived there since it was built and she calls it her cocoon.
If she’s not gone home, something’s changed. ”
I left Tabitha to finish her tea, calling Wrigley on my way to my car, legs tired from the morning’s run.
He’d spoken to Ste Taylor’s manager and found that he hadn’t turned up for his shift.
No one had heard from him either. There was a car going round to his house as Wrigley spoke, while I was heading straight over to Millstone Secure Hospital.
I phoned ahead, checking that Doctor McKay was on shift and could be available, the urgency in my voice making the receptionist nervous, placing me on hold and enforcing three minutes of holding music before telling me she’d see me as soon as I got there.
The journey was a blur, terraced houses transforming into stone houses with gardens and then longer roads with wooded land between them. Millstone was bathed in June sunshine, looking like a house from a fairytale until you zoomed in and noticed the subtle signs that all was not as it seemed.
I parked up under an oak tree, hearing fallen acorns crunch under my feet. Millstone was only about three and a half miles from Wethersett; Lily would’ve shared the same sun as her mother and I wondered if she’d ever thought about that.
“Detective McAllister.” Doctor McKay was waiting for me as I signed in. “I believe this is urgent.”
“It is.”
She opened the door to the corridor. “Come through. There’s a room free just here.” She fobbed open a door just past the admin room.
A high, narrow window let in a plinth of natural light, the furniture all beige, faux leather sofas and a coffee table with just stains adorning it.
“We use this room for families,” she said, sitting down.
“Close to the exit.”
“Indeed. How can I help?”
“I believe you spoke with Tabitha Smithson this week?” I perched on the end of the opposite sofa. “She called you to say Lily had presented out of character.”
“She did. I reassured her. Lily could sometimes fantasize when she was stressed and appear to be in a psychotic state. The stress of her mother’s death could’ve triggered this reaction.
She’s due to see me tomorrow at my clinic at the hospital.
” Doctor McKay leaned forward. “Do you think something’s happened to her? ”
“She hasn’t stayed at home for the last couple of nights.
Her card was used in a transaction yesterday evening, so we’re trying to confirm if that was her.
She’d called me a couple of days ago to say she was being followed, she was distressed but didn’t wait for me to get to her as we’d agreed.
When we spoke to her afterwards, she was extremely calm.
Since then, her whereabouts has been unknown and Andrew Smith, the leader of The Holding, has been found dead. ”
Doctor McKay paled, her hands pressed together as if she was about to pray.
“Andrew Smith’s son is Stefan Taylor; he was a friend of Lily’s when she was at school and potentially involved with the first fire. Did she ever mention him?” Insistence, urgency. I was scared for Lily, every instinct telling me that she was in trouble.
“Yes. She would sometimes talk about how they were meant to be together. I asked her if he was with her the night of the fire and she refused to speak for the next few hours. She’d talk about him, how he loved her and how one day they’d be together, but if we ever asked about him, she’d become mute.
When she did talk about him, it sounded like fairytales.
She stopped mentioning him at all about eighteen months before she got out, which coincided with us seeing fewer instances of a distressed state.
” She paused. “We thought Lily might have trauma-induced personality fragmentation - not a formal DSM diagnosis, but a psychologically plausible way of describing what can happen when severe developmental trauma disrupts the formation of a stable, integrated sense of self.”
“It’s when the person doesn’t develop one coherent identity or emotional framework. Different parts of them can become compartmentalised, inconsistent, or activated in different contexts,” I recited the textbook summary. “How was she when she talked about Stefan?”
“Heightened. Excited. There were a few times when we had to restrain and sedate her, which set her back months. When she discussed her father, she would become mute, retreat straight into herself. She’d break out of those episodes by talking about Stefan.
I didn’t think he existed, or if he had, her relationship with him was a fantasy.
In fact, when I brought him up more recently, she denied he existed.
” She shook her head, looking at anywhere but me.
“I don’t think Lily by herself would instigate a situation where someone would be hurt or injured.
She was too frightened of consequences.”
“Do you think she was in touch with Stefan when you last saw her?”
“Not at all. Like I said, I thought he was fantasy, or she’d built a fantasy of someone she vaguely knew.
Lily was seriously traumatised and she coped with that trauma by dissociating.
All we really knew for sure was the life she had now and I had no reason to believe that it was fictionalised.
Her probation officer was thorough; one of the best there is and her checks were frequent and often unscheduled.
” She stood up suddenly pacing to the door and looking out.
“Tabitha Smithson said that Lily was compliant but because she wanted to please; Tabitha thought this was learned behaviour. Would you agree?”
“Not quite. I don’t think she was conscious of it, not all the time.
Her anxiety levels are high, you’ll have seen that yourself, and she reverts to a much younger version of herself where she doesn’t really have autonomy over herself.
But she knew that reaction would lower people’s voices around her, make them help her because they’d see her as vulnerable, so she’d be looked after.
Lily wanted to be looked after. We had periods of illness that couldn’t be explained medically, but she’d gain care from them; similarly with some self-harming behaviours. ”
“Care eliciting.” I watched the doctor head to the external window which was too high to see out of. “You seem very anxious yourself, Doctor McKay.”
“I am. Lily’s highly vulnerable and her going missing is out of character.
If you find her – when you find her – please contact me and I’ll come to check on her.
If she has done something, she’ll need a psyche eval before you can question her.
” She sat back down. “Lily was always easily influenced. We had an issue once with a male member of staff who we believed was trying to groom her; she ended up thinking she was in love with him.”
“How close did he get to her?”
“Pretty close. It coincided with her spending more time outside in the community independently. We intervened and managed the situation. The member of staff was dismissed. All policies were followed.” Her words flattened.
“Please can you go through your notes and send me a summary of the times when Lily mentioned Stefan Taylor? I know you have patient confidentiality, but this could help us find Lily.” I stood up, aware that I’d handed my phone in to reception when I’d signed in, and the situation could already have changed.
“I will. I have your number. Lily gave me permission to share whatever was necessary, Detective. I wasn’t sure what to make of that at the time, but now I wonder if there was something she wanted us to know.
” She showed me out, not bothering with niceties.
My phone had a voicemail from Wrigley; I waited until I was in my car to check it.
I didn’t get a chance to listen to it. My phone started to ring just as I was about to press play, a familiar number flashing up on my screen, one I hadn’t programmed into my contacts.
“Detective Mia? I’m at the house, dad’s house, and I can’t get out. Can you - ”
It was Lily.