The Imposter, Anna Wharton [romantic story to read TXT] 📗

awake, but a second later it is laid bare in front of her.

POLICE GIVE UP SEARCH FOR MISSING ANGIE

She immediately thinks of Nan and glances at her phone. Nothing. She checks the volume, makes doubly sure the ringtone is on. Still nothing.

She takes the cutting and places it under the scanner. The white light flickers beneath the cover, and as she waits questions accumulate. Who is Angie? Why is she missing? And most importantly for Chloe right now, why did the police give up their search for this person?

When the clipping appears on her screen a few seconds later, she zooms in quickly – once, twice – and starts to read:

YESTERDAY, police revealed the search for missing Angela Rose Kyle has finally been scaled back. The four-year-old disappeared on 27 October last year, after a trip to a city park with her father Patrick Kyle.

She checks the date on the cutting – 3 May 1980. More than two decades ago. She quickly thumbs through the pile for a more recent cutting, then another; each one still talks of missing Angie and is accompanied by a school photograph of the little girl, her dark hair in two bunches, a milk-tooth smile. Chloe stares at the first cutting she picked up in her hand – this girl has been missing for twenty-five years. She continues reading:

Devastated Mr Kyle told police how he left his daughter on the swings at the deserted park for less than a minute while he went to lock his car. When he returned she was gone.

Dozens of officers combed the surrounding area, while police divers dredged the nearby river for the youngster. But despite a nationwide appeal for information about the missing girl, all leads have proved fruitless. Now, six months on from her disappearance, police have been forced to scale back their search.

Chloe pauses, her gaze shifting to his wife, Maureen. Her pain is less visible than his, worn on the inside so her face has become nothing but a shell. Chloe glances between them, from the man to his wife. His arm around her shoulders in the photograph, his knuckles white, his grip on her tight. Chloe picks up another cutting at random from her desk, this time his hand wrapped around hers. She picks up another, another, another. It’s the same in every picture. Their togetherness carrying the pair of them. Chloe only feels the pinch of envy for a second – how could she feel it for any longer when she reads on?

Detective Inspector Tom Newton, of Peterborough Constabulary, told this newspaper, ‘Over the last few months we have carried out searches of Ferry Meadows and the surrounding areas. Police divers have dredged the Nene and locals have been out in force alongside officers covering many acres of grass and woodland, but sadly there have been no sightings of Angela since the day she went missing. Like the family, we will never give up hope that Angela will be reunited with her parents, but with no new leads we’ve been forced to scale back our operations. We would like to take this opportunity to thank the public for their help in the search and remind them that an incident number will remain active in the hope of new information.’

Chloe opens up the next cutting, then the next, earlier ones before the police scaled back. Staggered across her desk, the headlines fit together like pieces of a jigsaw.

GIRL, FOUR, MISSING FROM LOCAL PARK

FEARS GROW FOR MISSING ANGIE

MOTHER’S PLEA: ‘GIVE BACK OUR ANGIE’

FOUND: CLOTH CAT – BUT WHERE IS ANGIE?

She goes back to the original cutting.

DI Newton refused to be drawn into speculation about what might have happened to Angela, although he admitted that police cannot rule out the possibility that she may have been abducted.

‘We are not closing the case, and we still hope that Angela will be returned to her parents. I’d like to reiterate that without the discovery of a body we can only assume that Angela is alive and well. I would once again urge the public to come forward with any information that may help police – however insignificant it may appear to them.’

Chloe knows the cranks who would have got in touch back then, the same people who phone the newsroom with promises of stories if only the news editor dispatches a reporter to their home. Some people are prepared to do anything for attention. Some people just want the company.

Patrick and Maureen Kyle, of 48 Chestnut Avenue, are said to be ‘inconsolable’ at the thought of the police hunt being called off. A statement from Mr Kyle released through police said, ‘Angela is our life, our love, our everything. An open wound will be here in our hearts until the day she is returned to us. We will wait for the rest of our lives for the day we are reunited.’

Anyone with any information should contact DI Newton at the city’s police station.

Chloe reads the cutting over and over, checking Angie’s age against the date, and doing the maths in her head. Angie was the same age as Chloe was in 1979, and so if she is alive, she’d be twenty-nine too. She closes her eyes and tries to picture her now. What really were the chances of her still being out there? Her mind flickers then to the worst outcome: a young girl dead in a shallow grave, never properly resting in peace. She shudders when she thinks of Nan. Is Chloe the only person right now who can imagine the pain this couple feel to this day? Instantly she feels so desperately, so sadly connected to them. Just twenty-four hours in the Kyles’ shoes has taught her something of what they’ve been through.

She checks her phone again. Nothing. She drops the cutting onto her desk. She can’t be here, not now, when everything is a reminder to her that Nan is missing. She could have picked up any file, and yet she’d chosen that one. She checks