Find Them Dead

108 Friday 31 May

Terrified of losing the scrap of paper, Meg tried to tap the number into her phone, but her hands were shaking too much. Suddenly the note fell from her trembling hands onto the ground and immediately disappeared under several pairs of feet. In complete panic, she fell to her knees, trying to grasp it. She ducked down and retrieved it, then from somewhere, as she stood up again, she found the presence of mind to photograph it, for safety.

She stared at it. The prefix was for Ecuador, she recognized. But the number was unfamiliar. Who the hell was it?

Laura?

An authoritative voice called out. ‘Will everyone who was in Court 3 please remain in the building!’

Too much noise, impossible to speak here. She eased away from the crowd and headed towards the toilets. As soon as she was far enough away from the din, she leaned against a wall, and with fingers that seemed to be in total disconnect from her brain, she struggled for a good minute or more before she finally got the correct number entered.

00 593 112 679483

She hit dial, lifted the phone to her ear and waited. There was silence, for what seemed an eternity, almost drowned out by her panting, the thudding of her heart and the drumming in her ears.

Then an overseas ring tone. Whine — silence — whine — silence — whine — silence.

A click.

Then to her utter joy, she heard the sleepy voice of her daughter.

‘Hrrrullo?’

It was midday here, which meant if she was still in the Galapagos, or over that side of Ecuador, it was a six-hour time difference — 6 a.m. ‘Laura! Laura, darling?’

‘Mum!’

Oh my God, she thought. Oh my God, you are alive! She closed her eyes, crushing away tears of relief. ‘My darling, have I woken you?’

‘Yrrrr, but that’s OK. S’good to hear you.’ She was talking quietly, as if she didn’t want to wake anyone up. She sounded fine, relaxed, normal.

‘Where are you, are you OK? Are you safe?’

Laura sounded surprised. ‘Safe? Yes, we’re in a hostel, back in Guayaquil.’

A tidal wave of relief surged through Meg. ‘I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. I haven’t been able to get hold of you.’

‘Yrrrr, sorry about that, Mum. Cassie and I got pickpocketed — can you believe it, in a queue for the toilets. Bastards took our phones, purses and passports. It’s been a bloody nightmare, we couldn’t pay for anything. We phoned the British Embassy in Quito — they’re going to help with new passports. Then we bumped into that weird guy — remember we told you about him — Jorge — who we thought was stalking us. He’s turned out to be our saviour!’ She was sounding increasingly animated. ‘We bumped into him right outside the hostel in the Galapagos — such a coincidence! He lent us some cash — I told him you’d pay him back, hope you don’t mind?’

‘Of course not.’

‘He found a phone place and bought Cassie and me a phone each — so amazing of him. But I couldn’t call you — we can’t call out internationally on them. He said he would get a message to you to call us!’

Meg said nothing. She didn’t believe Jorge was the saviour her daughter thought. But more importantly at this moment, she couldn’t believe she was talking to Laura again, how normal she sounded. How relaxed.

Had she been spoofed all along about the threat to her life?

‘How are you, Mum? How’s the trial going?’

‘Interesting,’ was all Meg could think to say at this moment, she was too concerned about her daughter. ‘Listen, you’ve lost your passports and your purses, with your cards?’

‘Jorge has bought us air tickets to Quito. I’m getting my credit card sorted.’

‘Do you need me to wire you money now, darling?’

‘No, it’s OK, Jorge is giving us what we need. I told him you’ll pay him back. You don’t mind, do you, Mum?’ Laura often repeated herself when she was excited, she always had.

‘My angel, absolutely I do not mind!’

‘I miss you,’ she said suddenly. ‘Like I really miss you. You’d love it here, Mum, it’s just — totally awesome. I’m really hacked off though, cos all my cash has been taken by those bastards. We were planning to fly to Argentina to see the Iguazu Falls. Cassie says her parents might lend her the cash — would you, too? And could you let them have her number if I give it to you?’

‘Of course. But how about if I pay for you both — for your flights there — if I came with you?’

Laura sounded elated. ‘If you come too? No way, wicked! Are you serious?’

‘Very serious. I could get a flight out to Quito and meet you both there! If Cassie’s OK with that?’

‘She’ll love it! Unreal. You are the best mum in the world!’

Meg grinned, all the horror of the past hour — and the days before it — temporarily forgotten. ‘I know.’

‘Seriously?’ Laura said. ‘You’ll come?’

‘If you really want me to? If you don’t mind an old person tagging along?’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Laura said. ‘We’ll sort out wheelchair-friendly transport for you.’

Ending the call, Meg felt utterly elated. She was about to call her travel agent, when she suddenly remembered the text that had come in, from the recruitment agency. She read it.

Meg replied,

A response came back almost instantly.

Despite all the horror in court just a short while ago, she felt a sudden burst of optimism. She’d not felt like this ever since the accident. For the past five years she had been living her life in survival mode, more like existing than living, being there for Laura. This was the first time she felt a real frisson of excitement about the future. Going to see Laura! Laura was safe, she was fine. Possibly a new and really good job when she got back!

Had she ever actually been in danger or were they just using Laura as a bargaining chip and a threat? Should she now go to the police, she wondered? But tell them what? And what would that achieve? She would simply be implicating herself and, at the end of the day, she hadn’t really done anything wrong — she’d made the right moral decision in finding Gready guilty. It was now time to move on. Hopefully, they no longer viewed her as useful to them. But would she ever feel really safe again? Only time would tell, but there was no point worrying about things she couldn’t change.

The real excitement at this moment was reuniting with her daughter. There was just one cloud on the horizon — telling Laura about Horace. She’d been trying to think of ways to cushion it.

Guinea pigs had a lifespan of around five years. Poor Horace had been close to that, she calculated. She’d bought him for Laura as a coming-home-from-hospital companion after the accident. Maybe she would tell her he’d died peacefully in his sleep, slipped away in his old age.

After all the lies she’d heard in court over the past few weeks, this seemed a pretty tame one.