A Proper Family Holiday (33 page)

‘Who saw her last?’ Mark asked.

‘I saw her by the pool this afternoon,’ said Jack helpfully.

‘She went upstairs at about four o’clock,’ said Chelsea. ‘She was going to get a magazine. I didn’t see her after that. I assumed she must have decided to stay in her room or go into town.’

While Mark interrogated the rest of the family (with the exception of Granddad Bill, who was eating in the pizza restaurant with Lesley and Gloria that evening), Chelsea texted her niece. It was immediately obvious to her where Sophie had gone. She’d put on her best dress and borrowed her aunt’s lipstick to go somewhere with the boy she’d been hanging out with that week. She had done exactly what she’d promised she wouldn’t do. God only knew what excuses she was going to come out with, but the sooner she came back to face the music, the better.

Where the hell are you? Chelsea typed. Your mum is going crazy.

Nothing. No response. Chelsea could understand why Sophie might not respond to a text message from her mother, but she had been sure that she – the cool aunt – would get some kind of acknowledgement. She called and left a voicemail.

‘I’m serious, Sophie. You’re two hours late for dinner. I know it’s not late as far as you’re concerned, but if you don’t get back to the hotel in the next five minutes, your mum and dad are going to have the police on your case.’

The screen of Chelsea’s iPhone remained resolutely blank.

Half an hour later, Mark and Ronnie were starting to panic in earnest. Dave was trying to calm them down. Jack was sitting on Jacqui’s knee. Ostensibly, he and his grandmother were playing a game of noughts and crosses on one of the paper tablemats, but neither of them was fully invested in the task. Both were covertly monitoring Ronnie and Mark’s conversation for developments.

‘I really don’t think we need to get too worried just yet. It seems pretty obvious who she’s with,’ said Chelsea. ‘She’s with that friend she made in the amusement arcade, the one who asked her to go clubbing.’

‘But I told her she couldn’t go,’ said Ronnie.

‘She clearly decided not to take any notice,’ said Chelsea. ‘It’s not such a surprise. She’s just like you were at her age. Remember? She’ll turn up at ten and claim that she texted you to say where she was going but the text must have got lost in the system.’

Ronnie was momentarily placated by the idea that Sophie might just be disobeying her.

‘I’ll go and look for her,’ said Chelsea.

But Sophie was not in the amusement arcade, and frustratingly, when the woman on the cash desk, who worked there from dawn to dusk, seven days a week, was shown a picture on Chelsea’s iPhone screen, she claimed she had never seen the young English girl.

Perhaps she hadn’t noticed her because she’d been part of a bigger gang of local children? Chelsea suggested.

‘The local children do not come in places like this,’ the woman sneered, as though it were self-evident. The local children were angels who would never worry their parents by failing to turn up for a family meal on time.

‘Fine,’ said Chelsea. ‘Of course they don’t.’

Chelsea walked up the street, quickening her pace to go past the currency-exchange booth. The last thing she needed right then was to have to get out of a conversation with that creep. Thankfully, he wasn’t hanging around. In his place, a white-haired woman nodded over a gossip magazine.

Chelsea stopped everyone who looked vaguely familiar and showed them the picture of her niece on her phone. No one seemed to have seen her before. At least, they couldn’t say for certain.

‘Teenagers all look the same to me,’ said one elderly Englishman.

‘Please look more closely,’ Chelsea urged him. ‘Something about her might jog your memory.’

‘My memory ain’t what it used to be.’

Chelsea stopped other teens and asked them too. She used her best broken Spanish on local children, who answered her in perfect English. No one had seen Sophie. No one had ever seen Sophie before. If they saw her now, they would of course tell her that people were looking for her, but for now, Chelsea was none the wiser. Her niece had quite simply disappeared.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Sophie

The hotel manager didn’t seem overly worried. After all, they weren’t talking about an especially vulnerable child; Sophie was not a toddler. The manager suggested it wasn’t unusual for a fifteen-year-old to go AWOL. English teenagers were always hooking up with the local kids. Perhaps she had taken a romantic walk down the beach and lost track of time? The local kids had sex behind the ferry terminal, he added helpfully.

‘My daughter is not a slut,’ said Mark, pulling himself up to his full height and towering over the small, moustachioed manager.

‘Of course not,’ said the manager. ‘I wasn’t suggesting that.’

‘Good, because if you were …’

Suddenly, the manager started taking Mark and Ronnie’s distress much more seriously.

‘She’s an intelligent, sensible girl,’ Mark continued. ‘I just don’t believe she’s not telling us where she is because she doesn’t know what time it is. Something is stopping her from getting in touch. She could be with anybody. She may dress like an adult, but she’s still a child.’

‘Of course,’ said the manager. ‘Of course.’

‘Nothing,’ said Chelsea as she came back into the hotel restaurant.

While she had been walking the length of the town, Mark had been scouring the pebbly bay to the west, towards the ferry terminal. Ronnie and Dave searched the sandy beach to the east. Jacqui stayed at the hotel with Jack, attempting to distract him from the goings-on with a card game, but Jack was way too bright for that. He knew this wasn’t just a matter of his sister being a little bit late any more. This was serious. He wanted to talk about it.

‘Will we find her, Auntie Chelsea?’

‘Of course we will,’ Chelsea told him.

‘If you need to use my sonic screwdriver, you can.’

‘Thanks, Jack.’ Chelsea gave him a squeeze.

Eventually, all the adults returned to the hotel restaurant.

‘No sign of her,’ said Mark.

‘She must have got into a car,’ said Chelsea.

‘Don’t say that,’ said Ronnie, covering her ears as though even mentioning the possibility could make it true.

‘We’re going to have to ask for proper help,’ said Jacqui. ‘We’ve got to get the police involved. Sophie’s a good girl. I don’t believe she would scare us like this deliberately.’

‘She better not,’ said Ronnie. She punched another text into her phone.

‘She might have lost her phone,’ said Chelsea.

‘Or been mugged,’ said Dave.

‘Don’t say that either!’ Ronnie exploded.

‘Stay calm,’ said Jacqui.

‘How can I be calm?’ Ronnie asked. ‘My daughter’s gone missing!’

This is all my fault, Ronnie told herself. This is happening because I got angry with Mum and accused her of forcing me to have my daughter. This is God’s way of showing me what I’ve got to lose. God, if you can just bring Sophie back to us, then I promise I’ll set everything straight. I’ll settle down and be grateful for what I’ve got in my life. I’ll be happy with what I have. Just please, please let my baby be safe. Let her come back to us in one piece. Don’t let anybody have hurt her.

Ronnie felt her legs weaken as she even allowed the idea that someone might hurt her daughter to enter her mind. Chelsea wrapped her arms round her sister to hold her up.

‘I just want my little girl back.’

Chapter Fifty

Sophie

Sophie had heard everything. She had gone up to her bedroom to get a magazine to read by the pool, having resigned herself to the fact that she was not going to be able to go clubbing with Luca. A visit to a bar with Auntie Chelsea was as good as it was going to get. Still, Chelsea was pretty cool. Sophie was going to ask her more about her life in London. Sophie had already decided that she was going to London as soon as she could leave school. There was no way she was going to get stuck in Coventry like her mum and dad.

It was as Sophie was about to go back down to the pool that she heard raised voices from her grandparents’ room. Sophie couldn’t resist eavesdropping. But what’s the old saying? People who eavesdrop never hear good of themselves.

At first Sophie was just outraged. How could her mother say such horrible things? And then the outrage turned into a thirst for revenge. Or, if not revenge, a decision to take full advantage of Ronnie’s indiscretion to get her own way for at least that evening.

Sophie went back into her room, changed into her favourite outfit and slicked on some of her aunt’s lipstick. Then she went out, slamming the door behind her, full of a feeling of righteousness that took her right to Luca’s currency exchange. If her mother didn’t care about her, then why should she be bothered if Sophie stayed out past her curfew?

Luca was only too pleased to see her. He had been expecting to have to start from scratch when it came to finding willing company for the evening. He welcomed Sophie into the back of the shop and fixed her a vodka and coke. And another. And another. And another.

The walls of the little dark room in the back of the currency exchange seemed to sway and pulse. Sophie found herself giggling uncontrollably, as Luca took her glass from her hand and went to kiss her. Just as his lips were about to touch hers, she threw up all over his chest.

After that the mood quickly darkened. Luca went from Romeo to Wrong’un in a heartbeat. He yelled at Sophie, furious that his best shirt was ruined. She threw up again, missing Luca this time but covering everything on the desk. The mess was terrible. Luca’s face was ugly and twisted with rage. He slammed a fist into the wall right by her head. That little part of Sophie’s brain that was still functioning properly, told her to run and keep running.

Outside, she threw up once more. Passing tourists looked at her in disgust but nobody offered to help. British tourists could never hold their drink. With the logic of the inebriated, Sophie decided that she should go and sit by the sea. The breeze coming in off the waves would help her sober up. There was no way she could go back to the Hotel Volcan in such a state. Her mum and dad would kill her.

If they cared that much … Her mother had never wanted her.

Sophie had never been drunk before. She didn’t recognise the ways in which the alcohol messed with her brain. She had gone through giggly and sick and now she was getting to maudlin. As she walked the length of the jetty, she replayed what she’d heard from her grandparent’s room. Her mother had never wanted her. She’d wanted an abortion. Having Sophie had derailed all her plans. With half a pint of vodka still working through her system, Sophie was quick to conclude that she should never have been born.

The jetty was empty. During the day, a few tourists laid out their beach towels upon it and swam from there, preferring the sun-bleached boards to the gritty black sand, but now Sophie had it to herself. She walked to the very end of it and leaned against the wind. Tears streamed down her face. Nobody wanted her. Her parents didn’t want her. Luca certainly didn’t want her now. Harrison had thrown her over for Skyler. She would never amount to anything. Her auntie Chelsea had only told her not to become a model because she didn’t want to have to tell her she wasn’t pretty enough. If she’d been prettier and cleverer then perhaps her parents would have loved her more. Her mother wouldn’t have shouted that having Sophie had ruined her life.

From a café on the promenade, Adam watched Sophie walk out towards the sea, while Lily amused herself by doodling on the paper tablecloth. Thank goodness for the emergency crayons. Adam recognised Sophie. He’d seen her around the hotel complex with Jack. And there was something about her that reminded him of Chelsea. She had the same chestnut-brown hair. The same heart-shaped face and cheeky eyes.

What was she doing on her own? She seemed to be crying. Adam briefly gave Lily his opinion on her latest drawing – ‘Brilliant, darling’ – then went back to watching Sophie’s unsteady progress. It was a death trap, that jetty. It had been allowed to fall into such disrepair. Some of the planks were almost rotted through. Lily had wanted to walk along it but Adam had refused. Now Sophie swayed from foot to foot as she avoided the holes. She looked … she looked drunk! Really very inebriated. But hadn’t Chelsea said her niece was only fifteen years old? Adam was allowing himself the small satisfaction of being absolutely sure that his daughter would never be allowed to run wild like that when, all of a sudden, Sophie disappeared.

The last plank of the jetty had broken beneath her weight and Sophie had plunged straight into the water as though through an open trapdoor. Adam leapt up and called the restaurant staff to help. The waitress who had been serving them that evening took care of Lily while Adam, the cook and a waiter raced out to the sea.

Sophie was ordinarily a reasonably strong swimmer but the alcohol in her system made her slow to react. The posts of the jetty were out of her reach before she realised what was happening. She flailed against the waves to get back to them. She shouted for help. There was no one around.

But then, suddenly, Adam and the men from the café were there with a lifebelt. The cook and the waiter held onto the end of the rope, while Adam took the belt and dived in. With the belt under one arm, he powered through the water towards Sophie. Grasping her hand, he pulled her close and helped her struggle into the hard plastic loop.

‘You’ll be all right,’ he promised her. ‘Everything will be all right.’

Two minutes later, Sophie was back on the jetty, spluttering and suddenly very sober. Adam sat beside her, panting from the effort, dripping and cold. Someone appeared with a couple of towels. Sophie cried and Adam shed a few tears himself, as he considered that he may have saved Sophie, but in the process, he could just as easily have orphaned his own daughter. It didn’t bear thinking about.

‘Thank you,’ Sophie whispered as he helped her towards the cafe. ‘Will you take me back to Mum and Dad?’

Chapter Fifty-One