A Family By Design Read online

  “I’ve got way too much to revise, and the exams are only a week away.” He shuffled up the bed and flicked through his phone.

  “Would it help if we put together another revision timetable?” I offered.

  “I guess.”

  “It might help if you left your phone in the kitchen. You know, less to distract you?” I said, and threw a pointed look at his phone.

  He shot me an affronted look. “It’s the first time I’ve looked at it tonight.”

  “It’s fine Lou, you’ve been working hard, and it’s good to take the odd break.” I thought back to my exams and remembered how I spent far more time taking breaks than revising.

  Louis was more diligent than some of his friends, who by all accounts were spending their study leave on the latest video games. I’d denied Louis that option because I’d disconnected his games console until after his final exam.

  I swung open the driver’s door.

  “Mum, have you seen the time? I’m gonna be late,” Lyssa said. “Are you still poorly?” she asked, concerned, and fiddled with the stereo.

  “I’m fine. I just swapped my shoes.”

  “Were you sick on your brown ones?”

  I laughed. Lyssa’s insatiable curiosity for all things, especially the gory details, warmed my heart.

  “No, I wasn’t sick on my shoes. I just fancied wearing a more comfortable pair. Which reminds me, my meeting could run on tonight, so it’ll be Dad picking you up.” I switched to the news channel. “Come on, in your seat.”

  “Hey, I was listening. Can’t we have Radio One?” She clambered into the back and fastened her seatbelt.

  I reversed. “Don’t you want the news?” I peered at her through the mirror. “Find out what’s happening out there.”

  We often went through this routine, where we wrangled over who chose what we listened to. It rarely resulted in my choice of station or music.

  “Why don’t you listen to it after you’ve dropped me off, then you can tell me if there’s anything important I should know about?” she kindly offered.

  Resigned as always, I switched to Radio One, midway through Bastille’s Overjoyed. I turned up the volume, and we sang along at the top of our voices.

  Generally, I loved the morning drive to school, but as we set off down the snaky lane, I felt my stomach gurgle in protest at the jostles and jolts of the weather worn tarmac. I tried to distract myself by admiring the heather clad and wooded hillside of Applecross that sprang up like a gleaming emerald before us.

  It looked as though it would be a glorious day. The sun’s generous spring rays beamed down between Applecross and Fairy Glen of Balnaknock and illuminated the burn that wound its way towards the village of Daxters a few miles further east. The rich variety of trees that rose from the banks of the stream up the side of Balnaknock had emerged from their long, unadorned hibernation. A lustrous green shimmered and rose from the valley floor like a great wave. Our side of Applecross and Balnaknock lay swathed in deciduous woodland with a flourish of birch and beech trees. In contrast, a few miles up the valley lay large areas of pine forest and rolling heather clad glens.

  The fourteen-mile drive to Lochinver took thirty minutes unless it had snowed or we got held up behind a tractor or scatterings of sheep, in which case it could take considerably longer. As we rounded a bend in the road and hit the bottom of the hill, my face grew hot, my head began to swim, and I felt a flood of nausea. I had to stop, and damn quickly too.

  “Sorry, I need some air.”

  I swung into a layby on the edge of Loch Dubh, and the car shuddered to a halt. I pushed the door open and ran down the embankment. I leaned against a boulder and retched until my ribs ached and the back of my throat burned.

  My thoughts raced as I considered what was making me ill.

  It’s morning, and I’ve been sick. Even so, our marriage hadn’t been a hotbed of unbridled desire and spontaneous sex recently. I cast my mind back. Max had been distracted, moody and often tired the past few months. Several times I’d tried to get him to open up, talk things through, but he hadn’t been forthcoming. Rather, he had responded by snapping at me and arguing over the slightest thing. Still, now wasn’t the time to deliberate our relationship or the state of my sexual health. I needed to get a grip, get Lyssa to school and myself to work.

  Stirred from my thoughts by a sharp screech of brakes, I spun around to see the roof of a white van as it pulled up behind my car. I heard a door slam and remembering Lyssa was alone in the car I felt a spark of adrenaline and sprinted back up the bank. As I reached the top I heard my car start. I watched helplessly as it shot forwards and tore down the road at a startling speed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I sprinted into the road. “Wait!” I screamed and watched my car disappear around the bend. “Lyssa!”

  I ran to the van. The door remained open, but it was empty. My heart sank – the keys had gone. I could barely breathe, let alone think straight. My head spiralled. Lyssa was in the car with a lunatic, a psychotic killer, a paedophile for all I knew. My bag and phone were in there so I couldn’t call the police or anyone.

  “Lyssa!” I fell to my knees, my vision flashed white and I vomited.

  I ran after the car, but the futility overwhelmed me. Perhaps when he saw Lyssa in the back he would let her out or run away himself. I imagined Lyssa screaming and opening the car door as they moved. And what about her asthma? She’d be petrified and panicking. My mind reeled with gruesome scenarios and I couldn’t figure out what to do.

  I slowed to catch my breath. Where was the traffic? This road could never be considered busy, but there was usually a steady run of cars, especially in the morning. As I jogged, I was sweating on the outside and freaking out on the inside, and the road in front appeared weirdly distorted. For the next hundred yards or so, I heard only the soft rhythmic thud of my rubber soles on the tarmac and my breath which came in recurring, heavy gasps. Then over that I heard the distant rumble of a car.

  I spun around.

  “Hurry up,” I cried and willed it to appear.

  A black Jag flew over the brow of the hill. I stood in the middle of the road and waved my arms like a demented air traffic controller. The car’s wheels juddered and the window slid down.

  “Help me. Someone’s got my daughter… my car.”

  The man and woman looked at me, their faces wide with alarm.

  “Get in.” The man urged.

  As I climbed in the back, the woman turned round in her seat.

  “Which way?” she said.

  “Straight on. We might catch up.” I wanted to offer to drive so I could put my foot down. “I need to get to the police, in Lochinver?” I sat forwards and scanned ahead. “Can I use your phone?”

  I couldn’t get reception and I dialled 999 over and over again. “Bloody hills. For Christ’s sake.”

  “Can you pull over at the top of the hill?” I said.

  I got out of the car and raised the phone in the air. It caught a glimmer of a signal and I got through to an emergency operator.

  “I’m putting out an immediate alert. Make your way to Lochinver police station.”

  “We’re going now,” I said, as I shook and sobbed.

  I left a frantic message on Max’s phone and knew it would scare the life out of him. I hoped it would. I needed him. Why wasn’t he picking up?

  I tried his office. His PA, Carla, told me he was visiting a client.

  “Oh God,” she said. “I’ll get hold of him.”

  The woman drove quickly. The car hugged the bends and picked up speed on the straights. I explained what had happened and frantically looked down every road, gap in the trees and track that we passed.

  The woman’s eyes remained on the road ahead, but I saw her exchange a harried look with her partner. I tried Max, but again he didn’t answer. I figured he had no signal; blocked by the hills and mountains.

  I remembered Louis at home, but I didn’t want to scare him, espe
cially as I wasn’t with him. No, better for him to remain in blissful ignorance, at least for now.

  I felt the bile scorch up my throat. I clenched my teeth, breathed hard in and out, but I refused to yield to yet another wave of nausea.

  I tried Max again, and his phone went straight to answerphone. “Jesus Max. Where the hell are you?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Absent Without Leave

  We raced over the arched stone bridge that spanned the river Inver, headed into town and disregarded the flashing 30mph warning sign. I directed them to the police station, an unassuming red brick building next to the village hall. It sat midway down Main Street, which ran parallel to the bay with its busy fishing port and narrow shingle beach. We pulled up, I blurted ‘thank you’ and slammed through the doors. I saw an officer behind the front desk, and she immediately knew who I was, no doubt by the look of panic on my face.

  “Katriina O’Donnell?”

  I nodded once and fresh tears fell.

  “Chief Inspector Christine Keir,” she said, and lifted the counter panel. “I have the report.”

  Pete and Viv appeared beside me.

  “Come with me. Does Lyssa have a mobile phone?” she said, and reached into her jacket pocket for a notebook.

  “No and she’s been after one for ages,” I said, and followed her down a narrow corridor. “Could we track her if she did? Wait, my phone’s in my handbag, in my car.”

  She led us into a small meeting room that overlooked Main Street, and pulled out a chair for me. “And does your phone have tracking?” she asked.

  “I’ve never requested it,” I said, and sat down.

  “We’ll give it a shot. I’m alerting all police within the area and further afield. They’ll be searching for your car, for Lyssa. We’re drafting in two helicopters to carry out an air search. Officers are heading to the van, and they’ll bring it in for forensics. I’m going to speak to the Chief Commissioner about drafting in additional resources.” She paused and shifted position, intense eyes searching mine. “Did you catch a glimpse of anyone, hear voices, anything at all?”

  “No. No screams, nothing. Only the car starting and then it was gone.” I stood up and went to the window. I parted the blinds half expecting to see my car pulling up, the driver having realised what a terrible mistake he’d made. “Where is she?”

  Inspector Keir joined me at the window and touched my arm. “Please Katriina, sit down. I’ll get you some tea.” She guided me back to my seat. “You’re shaking and in shock.”

  “I don’t want tea. I want my daughter.”

  Viv put her arm around my shoulder.

  Inspector Keir continued; her tone quietly controlled. “Yes, we need to find her, and we’ll do all that we can and as quickly as we can.”

  “I have to talk to Louis, my son. He’s at home.”

  “I’ll send an officer to fetch him as soon as I can spare one.”

  I nodded, but felt an overwhelming sense of panic building inside of me.

  “I need to try Max again,” I said.

  “There’s a phone in the office,” she offered.

  I followed her through to a room behind the front desk. Two officers looked up, one was on the phone, and the other spoke into his radio. A phone rang, and Inspector Keir picked it up. My stomach lurched, was there news? But instead she organised for more officers to come here. I stood at the only free desk and dialled my mobile. It rang out then went to answerphone. The same thing happened again. Perhaps whoever had Lyssa had switched it off or thrown it out. I tried to remember if it was still on silent from how I’d left it last night.

  I rang Max. Still, there was no answer.

  “I need you Max. Lyssa’s gone. It was a van driver.” I sobbed and hung up.

  I rang Carla.

  “I’m so sorry Kat, I can’t track him down. I left a message with his client in Penrun. They were supposed to meet at nine.”

  “Please Carla,” I begged. “You have to find him.”

  I hung up and dialled Max again. I listened to it ringing over and over. I calculated that he had set off from home at seven-thirty, it was nine-forty-five now, and it couldn’t have taken more than forty minutes to drive to Penrun. Perhaps he’d stopped off somewhere. It went to answerphone.

  “Where the fuck are you Max?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Break A Leg

  Oban, Scotland, May 1993

  “Mum,” I shouted from the bottom of the steep, narrow staircase. “Mum.”

  “What?” Came Mum’s sleep-ridden reply.

  I’d forgotten Mum had worked a night shift and I ran upstairs to my parent’s bedroom. The curtains were drawn, save for a three-inch gap that allowed a rectangular block of sunlight to shine through. Miniscule specks of dust floated randomly through the light, and bounced against one another before disappearing into the ether. I stepped over to Mum’s dressing table chock-full of various lotions and pots of inexpensive ethnic jewellery. I picked up a can of hairspray and slipped it into my coat pocket.

  “Sorry Mum. I’m off to rehearsal. I’ve had lunch, packed my costumes.”

  Mum’s strawberry blonde hair lay spread out in messy streaks across the midnight blue pillowcase, reminiscent of flames licking the night sky. She lay on her back and her heavy-lidded eyes peered up at me.

  “Of course. What time will you be home?”

  “Adrian said we’d be there ‘til everything was perfect, so it might be late.”

  “OK honey. Don’t walk home on your own,” Mum said, and turned over. “Good luck. I mean, break a leg.”

  “I think you’re supposed to save that ‘til the first performance.” I knelt on the bed and planted a kiss on her head.

  Now that I’d reached the golden age of sixteen, my parents had given me almost complete freedom to come and go as I pleased, and I took full advantage of this liberty. I glanced at the bedside clock. Adrian had been most insistent on us starting at two on the dot.

  “Howdy girls. Everyone ready?” Adrian leaned a thick, muscular arm against the door to the dressing room. “Come on ladies. Leave your make-up. Katriina, where’s your dress?”

  “Isn’t it customary to knock before you come into the girls’ dressing room?” I called, and slipped behind the near-empty clothes rail.

  “I shouldn’t think that includes me. I am the Director, and I’ve seen plenty of naked women before.”

  I watched him shift position to give himself a better view.

  “Not me though.” I crouched down, and cursed that I’d forgotten my robe.

  The other girls shrieked with laughter.

  “Has he gone?” I peeped out from behind a silver sequinned jacket that hung on the back of a chair.

  “Aye, not that he was in much of a hurry. Come on Kat, you’re first on,” said Polly. She flung my white strappy dress at me.

  As Polly zipped me up, I whispered, “Adrian’s giving me the creeps.”

  “Oh but he’s cute. Those biceps and those eyes. He definitely fancies you,” she said. “Don’t you like him, even a bit?”

  “No I don’t, he’s ancient. And I don’t think Hal would be too happy to know he’s been perving around,” I said, and stepped into a pair of six inch glittery stilettoes.

  “Anyway, the show will be over soon,” Polly said. She stood in front of the full-length mirror, then turned sideways on to continue her assessment. “Think you’ll do the next?”

  “Maybe. Depends on the play.” I sat on the stool in front of the dressing mirror and applied the ruby red lipstick I’d been instructed to wear. “And who’s directing it.” I caught Polly’s eye in the mirror.

  Adrian’s best RADA voice came over the intercom.

  “Please will all cast members make their way to their starting positions? Curtain up in five minutes. I repeat, five minutes

  CHAPTER SIX

  The McNalty Clan - 1993

  “Here’s Johnny!” called Gordon McNalty, and banged the front door sh
ut. He hung up his black woollen work jacket on the old wooden coat stand in the corner of the hallway.

  “In the kitchen, my love,” called Anna.

  “Hiya Dad,” said Allannah, as he walked into the kitchen.

  “Hello my beauties.” Gordon brushed a calloused palm down Alannah’s cheek as he passed, then kissed Anna on the mouth.

  “Where’s Kat? Upstairs revising or over at Hal’s?” he asked.

  “Neither, it’s dress rehearsal day.” Anna served up the evening meal. “She’s been at the theatre all afternoon.”

  “Aye, of course. What night do we see it?” he asked.

  Anna placed a heaped plate of spaghetti onto the kitchen table. “Saturday, the grand finale. Should be nice and slick by then.”

  Gordon washed his hands in the sink full of warm soapy water. “Blinking-well hope so, or they’ll have missed the boat. Any parmesan?”

  “In the fridge,” said Anna, and set a bottle of homemade lemonade at the centre of the table. “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful. I know Katriina will be. She’s spent endless hours practicing her lines. And she’s got so many.”

  “You’ve got me a ticket haven’t you Mum?”

  “Of course my love. Front row seats.”

  “Have you seen the shoes she’s got to wear? Seriously, Kat in stilettoes,” said Allannah, giggling. “I bet she can’t even walk in them, let alone do the Can-Can.”