Private Princess

Chapter 19

Jane Cook had mixed memories of Brecon. As a soldier she had often trained in the mountains, and those memories were of being cold, wet, hungry and tired — no, exhausted. But then there were the good memories. Memories of camaraderie. Memories of shared challenges, and shared victories. That was what Cook had loved about being a part of the army, and that was what she loved about being a part of Private.

Cook had approached the Welsh market town as she would an Afghan one. That was not to say she sought out traps and ambushes — though she was vigilant — but that she talked in a friendly manner to shop owners, police officers and anyone who was happy to give her their time. She did not question these people directly on Sophie, but used her as bait, telling them she was visiting Brecon based on the recommendation of a university friend who had been born there. Inevitably, in such a small town, people would ask for the name of that friend.

“Sophie Edwards,” Cook would tell them.

“We know Sophie!” the two girls serving in the coffee shop told her, excited.

“Such a small world, isn’t it?” the taller of the pair said.

“We were in the same school year,” the shorter one explained. “Haven’t seen her since leaving day,” she added without prompting.

“That must have been about the time she went off to London, and met you?”

“I suppose it was,” Cook replied. “She didn’t waste any time leaving here, did she?”

The shorter girl snorted. Her body language told Cook that although she knew Sophie, she might not have cared too much for her. “Well, she wouldn’t, would she? All we heard through school was how shit this town is, and how she was going to move to London and not come back.”

“Really?” Cook said. “She always said how beautiful this place is.”

“Not in school she didn’t,” the taller woman replied, adding the finishing touches to Cook’s coffee. “One pound fifty please.”

Cook paid with a five and put the change in the tip jar.

“Do you guys keep in touch with her?” she asked.

The two young women shared a look. The taller one answered. “I don’t think anyone’s seen her since she left.”

The other one shook her head. “She didn’t want anything to do with her life here. She wouldn’t even accept my Facebook friend request.”

Cook’s first instinct was to smile at that statement, but then a thought hit her like a cold slap to the face. Where else would you search for a young woman in her twenties?