Chapter 28
FAYE
I barely sleep that night. How can I when I’ve finally found her? Now I know she exists. My missing half, my sister. I was right. I can hardly believe it after doubting myself all this time. After watching expressions of pity flash across the faces of loved ones.
But Claire has been missing for about two weeks. Why? What has happened to her?
And if I’m right, then she was on Seeley Moor just after she was officially last seen, and at my mother’s house a few days ago.
As Alistair sleeps beside me, I read the article over and over again on my phone.
I even find her neighbour, Janice Tideswell’s Facebook post asking if anyone has seen Claire.
I click through and find Claire’s Facebook page.
It’s private and the profile picture is of her with her grandkids. She’s a grandmother.
The article mentions that Claire’s husband Jack passed away recently.
After a little more digging online, I see Jack Blackburn was a local businessman with a very successful haulage company and he died from heart disease.
Dealing with the sudden death of a husband would be so painful.
Perhaps her mental health is suffering, or she has had an emotional breakdown.
I can’t stand the thought of her vulnerable and afraid somewhere out there alone.
I consider the thought that she might be in the same boat as me. My condition is difficult even with proper treatment and a support network, how would it be without any of that?
My thoughts spiral and adrenaline won’t let me rest. But there’s also an uneasy edge to my ceaseless enquiries. Why is she stalking me? Why is she upsetting my mother?
Giving up on sleep entirely, I climb out of bed and pace the house. First my office, then the living room, then the kitchen. I check the doors and windows are locked, even though I feel much safer with Alistair in the house with me.
What if Claire is a bad person and she’s doing all this to me. But why? To make me feel like I’m going crazy? What’s the endgame there?
When dawn breaks, Alistair stirs. I’m back in bed. His hand reaches out for me and I answer, distracting myself with the warmth of his skin, the taste of his lips on mine. Finding respite from the anxious thoughts swirling around my mind.
Then we shower, dress and drink coffee. I’m careful to take my medication. A night of not sleeping could easily affect me during the day.
“We need to go to Little Ingleby,” Alistair says. “It’s near Stockton-on-Tees so not far.”
“Shouldn’t I go to the police first?” I ask.
“We can ask around a bit before going to the police. There’s no harm. The police will probably tell you to keep out of it.”
“Yes, that’s true. Although people in Claire’s village may be confused when they see me. I look exactly like her.”
“Right,” he says. “Which is an advantage, isn’t it? You can pretend to be her even!”
I shake my head, speechless that he would make light of this.
He immediately senses my disapproval. “Sorry, I was probably being a bit reckless about you pretending to be Claire. But we finally have a lead. I’ll book us somewhere to stay.”
“All right,” I say.
Alistair does some research about Little Ingleby online before we set off on the motorway. It all happens so fast. I barely know what to say on the journey, leaving Alistair to fill the silence.
“Do you want to eat when we get there?” he asks. “I looked up the local pubs and have a good idea where we could go. But it really depends on whether you’re hungry. We could—”
I place a hand on his arm. “We’ll figure it out.”
He smiles. “Sorry, I’m being a bit much, aren’t I?”
I pause a moment before responding. “You maybe seem a little over-enthusiastic about all this. It might seem like an exciting mystery for you to solve, but it’s my life. This is all very real to me.”
“Hey, I know that,” he says.
He turns the radio up and keeps his eyes fixed on the road ahead. I immediately regret what I said, even though I still believe there’s truth to my words, no matter how cutting they may have sounded.
“I appreciate this though. You know that, don’t you?” I ask. “You’ve taken time off work to help me. My daughter is happy in a new relationship and I couldn’t do this alone. I’d hate to drag her out of her romantic little bubble.”
“You know I’m happy to help,” he says, and with a small smile, things between us seem more settled.
My palms are damp by the time we reach Little Ingleby. I pull my hair away from the back of my neck and lower the window, sensing a hot flash on the way.
The village is exactly how I pictured it.
Moss-covered drystone walls, ivy-clad cottages and rose gardens.
The satnav tells Alistair where to park and I note that we made it all the way here without arguing about directions.
That’s a welcome change from my car trips with Scott.
Nathan and Penny in the back of the car punching each other on the arms. But I have the same squirming sense of unease at the pit of my stomach.
Alistair parks in the centre of the village next to a newsagent. “What do you want to do first?”
“I think we need to figure out where Claire lived and speak to her neighbours,” I say. “The only thing is, if I talk to people who know Claire—”
“They’re going to think you are Claire.”
I nod. “So, I’m not sure how we’re going to do this. What I need is for someone local to understand what I’m trying to do and help me. Maybe if we hang out at the pub. Or if I send you out on your own to ask questions.”
“Hey, I’m up for that.” He smirks. “I’ve always wanted to be a detective.”
His excitement is not contagious and I suddenly wonder why he’s here.
Why he’s taken time off to help me with this.
Is it because he has feelings for me? Because he’s living out a fantasy about being a detective?
Or because he has an ulterior motive? I’m throwing myself headfirst into this investigation to find my sister.
But I have no idea what kind of danger may be lurking around the corner, and now whether I can trust the man at my side.