Mirrorland, Carole Johnstone [spiritual books to read .txt] 📗

at his hair. When he sees me in the doorway, his reaction is one of furious relief.

‘They’re giving up, Cat! I told you, didn’t I?’ He barrels towards me, eyes wild. ‘I told you they’d fucking give up!’ I see the moment he remembers that I’m the very opposite of his ally in this, and he stops, retreats, drops his hands to his sides.

‘We’re not giving up, Ross,’ Rafiq says, and to her credit, she does look like she means it. She glances at me. ‘The MRCC mission co-ordinator has called off the search. The official suspension will be announced tomorrow.’

The gunslinger. I can feel some prickle of Ross’s anger myself.

‘It’s been six days,’ Rafiq says.

‘I don’t care!’ Ross explodes. His eyes are rolling and big veins stand out like ropes on both sides of his neck. His knuckles are so white they look nearly translucent. ‘You need to find her. You need to find her! I can’t stand this!’

The young woman puts her hand on his shoulder, whispers something in his ear, and he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, looks at the ceiling with shining wet eyes.

‘I’m Shona Murray, the family liaison officer,’ she says to me, still squeezing Ross’s shoulder. Her voice is high and squeaky like a child’s. ‘It’s really good to meet you finally.’ As if we’re at a family wedding.

I turn to Rafiq. ‘You have to keep looking for her.’

Ross has never been a great actor. Everything he thinks, feels, has always been writ large on his face, in his actions. He really is terrified that they’re going to stop looking for El. He really is terrified that she’ll never be found. And I realise now that I can’t face the prospect of them never finding her either. Because it isn’t just Ross’s life that’s stopped, it’s mine too. She needs to be found, she deserves to be found. Even if it means I have to pledge false allegiance to that something bad has happened; a euphemism for dead that’s almost as annoying as the fact that everyone seems so determined to believe that she is.

‘Like I said,’ Rafiq says, ‘we’ve not given up. But we’ve only limited resources.’ Behind her, I see Logan wince, and like him a little better for it. ‘El can’t be considered high-risk indefinitely, especially when the Coastguard …’ She stops, shakes her head. A flustered DI Kate Rafiq is more unnerving than I might have expected.

I save her by saying the words myself. ‘Thinks she’s dead.’

She clears her throat. ‘We’ll stay in touch with the MRCC. They’ll contact us if they discover anything new.’ This time, she doesn’t hesitate, even though we all know exactly what she means. ‘And we’ll keep El’s missing-person case open, review it periodically, resume active investigations the minute any new information comes to light.’

Ross is right. They’re giving up. I watch Rafiq pick up her black coat and black umbrella, think of her standing in the Throne Room and telling us, We’ll find her.

‘Right, well, we’ll leave you to it. Shona’ll stay as long as you need her to.’ Rafiq nods towards Shona, who’s still hovering beside Ross like a bad smell, giving him doe eyes and oozing silent sympathy.

‘Did you get any forensics off the card?’ I say, as Rafiq tries to pass me in the doorway.

‘No.’ Her expression is entirely impassive.

‘I got another one today.’

My scowl freezes as everyone looks at me.

Rafiq’s mouth presses thin, the only outward indication that I’ve pissed her off. ‘Was I not clear about you getting in touch with us straightaway if you got any more?’

‘I didn’t think you’d care.’ And I know I’m being unfair. I know that my anger, my frustration, is massively displaced, but I can’t help it. In America, I was watertight. Here, now, I’m leaking from just about every well-soldered joint.

‘Where is it?’

I run upstairs, get the card from the Clown Café. Bring it back to Rafiq, who drops it into an evidence bag and then leaves without another word.

‘Hey,’ Logan says, pulling me gently by the arm back into the hallway. ‘You okay?’

I’m so tired all of a sudden. I wonder what he would do if I just leaned my head against his big chest and stayed there.

‘Yeah.’

‘Look, don’t mind the boss.’ He smiles. ‘Her bark’s worse than her bite, believe me.’ His hand is still on my arm, but his smile fades as he looks at me. ‘Is there something else?’

‘No.’ I should tell him about the emails and the diary pages. But I know I won’t. Unlike the cards, they aren’t overtly threatening. That they are threatening is something that I can finally admit to myself. But I’m certainly not about to tell Logan – or anyone else – why. Not if I don’t have to.

‘You sure?’

I think of El’s reply to my email: DON’T TELL THE POLICE. DON’T TELL ANYONE. YOU’RE IN DANGER. I CAN HELP YOU.

‘I’m sure.’ I try to smile. ‘I’m just jumpy. Ever since I came back here I’ve felt like – I mean, I thought I might have seen someone or … I just, it feels like there’s someone … watching me. Following me.’

Logan’s gaze sharpens. ‘You think someone’s following you?’

I nod. ‘All the time.’

He looks over my shoulder at the kitchen door, and then back at me. ‘On the afternoon of your sister’s disappearance, neighbours reported seeing a suspicious person hanging around outside the house.’

‘Suspicious how?’

‘Just the fact that they seemed to be loitering. And someone in the terrace across the road later saw them coming out the alleyway alongside the house before running off towards the Links.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘Average build, anywhere between five-eight and -eleven, black jeans, boots. Wearing a dark parka, hood up. That’s about it.’

‘There was a man yesterday,’ I say. ‘Just standing on the corner of Lochend Road, watching me.’

Logan frowns. ‘Look, it’s probably nothing, okay? But if you see him again, or if you’re worried or concerned about anything – anyone – for