Chapter Eleven
Daniel. Day of the kidnapping.
‘Joel is in bed. I said he could watch a movie,’ says Gil.
Gil is on edge. Her body is tense, and she paces the room like a jittery caffeine addict. The scent of nicotine clings to her breath and reaches my unwelcome nostrils.
‘Well?’ she demands, eyes narrowing. ‘Are they paying the ransom?’ Before I can respond, she sniffs the air.
‘Have you been drinking? You said he was watching you,’ she says, raising her voice, anger flaring.
‘Imagine if the police had stopped you. For fuck’s sake, Daniel, you could have got her killed. ’
I slip past her, heading for the kitchen. She follows me. I take a bottle of wine from the fridge, aware of her eyes still on me.
‘Well?’ She asks again. ‘Are they paying the ransom?’
I pour a glass and offer her one, but she shakes her head. ‘Donald said we should ask for proof of life first,’ I say, knocking back half the wine.
Gil’s eyes widen, her face darkening. ‘What the hell? Why won’t they just pay the sodding money? It’s their daughter, for goodness’ sake.’
I sink into the couch, clutching my glass, letting the wine steady my trembling nerves. I expected Donald to be cautious, but I hoped, naively, that he’d soften when it came to his own child. Even I can’t make sense of his reaction.
‘You know what Donald’s like,’ I say, trying to keep my frustration in check. ‘They’ve got a point, though. Two million is a lot when we don’t even know if she’s still alive.’
‘I don’t understand how any of you can think like this.
What do they need? A bloody photo of her holding today’s newspaper?
I swear, if it were me, my parents wouldn’t waste precious time like this.
’ She yanks a tissue from her cardigan sleeve and dabs at her eyes.
‘I told Joel that Mummy had to go away with work for a few days. He kept asking where she was.’
‘Donald says I should call the hospital and tell them Joanna is unwell and that she probably won’t return for a while.’
Gil exhales sharply. ‘And what exactly are you going to say is wrong with Jo? They’ll ask. I work with her, remember? Everyone knows we’re friends.’
I haven’t thought that far ahead. My thoughts are muddled and slow. I’ve stupidly forgotten Gil works at the hospital. I’ve barely eaten all day, and the alcohol is dulling my focus. Then, mercifully, her phone rings, giving me time to think.
‘Oh, hi,’ she says, her tone shifting. ‘Hold on.’ She turns to me. ‘I’ll take it in the corridor,’ she says, slipping out of the flat.
I watch her go, turmoil twisting inside me. Gil is too unpredictable and too volatile; I don’t trust her. What if she calls the police behind my back?
I step softly into Joel’s bedroom. He’s curled up in his bed, half asleep.
‘Hey, dude,’ I whisper. ‘You should be asleep by now.’ He’s burrowed beneath the covers, and I kiss each cheek. ‘One from Mummy.’
I leave the nightlight glowing and return to the lounge, only to find Gil still gone. My palms grow clammy. What is she doing? Why is this call taking so long? Before I realise it, I’m on my feet, marching towards the door.
In the corridor, Gil is pacing, phone pressed to her ear.
‘Gil,’ I snap. ‘What’s going on?’
She flinches at my voice. The tension must be written all over my face because she quickly covers the mouthpiece and mouths, ‘Won’t be a second.’
I retreat into the flat, pulse hammering.
Who the hell is she talking to?