I'll Find You

  Geraldine kept her eyes on his face. ‘No. Maria didn’t inform us. A statement was given yesterday evening from a member of your staff saying that a patient went missing from this hospital three weeks ago, and the belief is that this missing woman is the niece of your nanny.’

  He looked stunned. ‘Good grief. So after she left me she went to see you? I’m afraid I know exactly who made such a statement. Nurse Jacobs. And now she’s well and truly muddied the waters. Poor Maria. She must be going out of her mind with worry. First let me tell you – sorry, who did you say you were?’

  ‘Detective Inspector Geraldine Sutton with Avon and Somerset Police.’

  He nodded. ‘Thank you. Well let me tell you, Detective Inspector Sutton, that on both accounts neither is true. We most definitely have not had a patient go missing, and Katka was never a patient here.’

  ‘Is there any way you can prove that?’

  He nodded again. ‘I sincerely hope so. You can talk to everyone who worked here that day, that week even. I can show you the entire operation lists for that week. I can have every member of staff who looked after Nurse Jacobs on the day of her operation brought in here so that you can question them. In particular, I can bring in the anaesthetist who looked after Nurse Jacobs and the senior ward sister, Sister Barrow. Sister Barrow has been having some concerns about Nurse Jacobs since she had her operation. To be honest with you, we really wish we’d known who she was when she started here.’

  Geraldine was surprised. ‘So you didn’t know her sister is Zoe Jacobs?’

  ‘No,’ he said quietly. He palmed his hands together to make his point. ‘Look, I can’t tell you where Katka has gone. And I feel entirely responsible that she hasn’t yet returned home, as it should have been me who drove her to the airport and made sure she got her plane, but an emergency came up and I couldn’t leave the hospital. I called a taxi to take her instead. I can prove this, too. And surely the airport can prove if she checked in and got on a flight or was even at the airport that day?’ There was a note of hope in his voice.

  ‘Why haven’t you reported Katka missing?’

  His expression was frank, as if he were expecting the question. ‘Because I don’t believe she is. I’m sorry if that sounds blasé, but in the four weeks she spent with us she proved to be a bit of a free spirit. Maria was constantly checking to see where she was when she didn’t return at the time she had said she would. One thing I know is that she wasn’t looking forward to going home. I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t think of anything else that will help. I do want this matter cleared, though. The Windsor Bridge Hospital is still in its infancy, and its reputation is at stake. I’m sorry if that sounds pompous, but something like this hitting a newspaper will be ruination. So please, ask your questions, check anywhere you want to in this hospital. I only ask that you do so discreetly.’

  ‘If it’s OK, I will speak to other members of staff. Is Sister Barrows on duty?’

  ‘She isn’t,’ he said. ‘But she’s here at the moment for a meeting. I’ll go and find her. You can use this office.’ He stood up and was at the door before speaking again. ‘Emily Jacobs is an excellent nurse. Highly trained and competent, despite the misgivings of that patient’s wife. In the short while she’s been here she’s proved that. I cannot imagine what she has gone through, and is still going through, but I do believe in all sincerity that she is unwell, and that worries me if she’s to continue working here.’

  While Geraldine waited for the senior nurse to arrive she was having similar thoughts. The Windsor Bridge Hospital was a far cry from the sinister description Emily had given in her statement.

  First, it didn’t feel like a hospital, but rather a luxury hotel, and was a vast improvement on other hospitals that she’d visited. She’d be happy to come here as a patient, if she could afford it. Before she left she’d ask Dalloway to email her his nanny’s details. She would have to contact the woman to get her niece’s details. The surgeon said Maria was constantly checking the whereabouts of her niece. She would therefore have a mobile number, which would be a good starting place at tracking her down.

  *

  Eric was alarmed by the state of Emily when he saw her. Her face was chalk white and she had not stopped trembling since she sat down. He was not a medical doctor, but he recognised shock when he saw it.

  He placed the glass of water in her hands and encouraged her to drink. He let her sit there, quietly, and waited.

  Several minutes passed before she seemed to become aware of her surroundings, her eyes looking around his office in surprise as if wondering how she got there.

  ‘I called you, didn’t I?’

  ‘Yes. You called from work and came here by taxi.’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t even remember getting into a taxi.’ She looked down at her uniform. ‘I didn’t even change.’ She stared at the floor around her chair. ‘Did I bring my bag with me?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, how did I pay for the taxi?’

  ‘I did, Emily. I came and helped you out of it.’

  She shook her head slowly, her voice bitter. ‘This is like the beginning all over again. Forgetting how I got to places and suddenly finding myself there. I once stood in a queue in Sainsbury’s with a trolley full of food that I would never normally buy and I put everything on the conveyor belt, watching each item roll along being priced and beeped. Beep, beep. When it came to the end the assistant asked me how I would like to pay as I just stood there. I said, I don’t know. I haven’t got any money.’

  Eric remembered the episode. Zoe had only been missing for a matter of weeks and when not out searching the streets for her sister, Emily had ended up in places she could never recall going to. She had taken train journeys to desolate stations and on one occasion had sat there all day until a passenger, an off-duty policeman, noticed her and put her on a train back to Bath. She had gone to nightclubs, and as a single, attractive woman she was naturally noticed. She was noticed more when she wore pyjamas and slippers, and a call was put out to the police. She was vulnerable and should not be out alone. Eventually such behaviours ceased and she carried on as normally as possible. Mainly by keeping busy, looking after her parents and searching for Zoe. In recent months she had made great strides, and Eric had begun to get to know the real Emily Jacobs, the one he had become fond of, who had a sharp wit and a warmth and inner strength that had been stripped from her in the early days. She had risen out of the depths of depression and come back fighting, her sole intention to return to the job she loved. Looking at her now he was transported back to those early days and felt what she felt. It was like the beginning all over again.

  ‘I went to see Geraldine Sutton last night. I gave a statement to the police. I reported that missing patient. And now she’s at the hospital questioning Mr Dalloway, but they’re not going to find any proof, Eric. And then she’ll think I made it up. I think she thinks I’ve made it all up. She thinks I wrote the letter from Zoe. Only my prints are on the letter. But I saw Zoe. I chased her along the road and would have caught her if that car hadn’t hit me. Everyone is conspiring, Eric. I went to Mr Dalloway’s home and their nanny is no longer there. They’re trying to make me think this is all in my head. You don’t think that, do you?’

  Eric was alarmed by what she was saying; particularly in her belief that she had seen Zoe. He was unable to give her the answer she wanted and wondered if he would have to refer her to a psychiatrist. Clearly things had escalated since their last appointment and a lot had happened. She was floored, by the look of her. She had clearly not heeded his advice. She had gone a step further and brought the matter to the police. While he was qualified to treat her for mental and emotional suffering and offer psychotherapy, a psychiatrist was a medical doctor who could prescribe medication and who may unearth a physical cause. Emily had been doing very well until recently, but Eric could not ignore his concerns. If she was having psychotic episodes and hallucinations, then he had to consid
er the possibility of schizophrenia.

  ‘Emily, I want you to see one of my colleagues.’

  She looked at him and then seemed to stare through him. When her voice came it sounded hollowed out, empty of emotion. Slowly the shock of finding herself here was wearing off, and she was now alert to what he was saying. ‘Very well, Eric. If that’s what you want.’

  He nodded. ‘It’s for the best, Emily. I’ll get you an appointment as soon as possible. In the meantime, I’d like you to rest. Eat well and sleep well. Are you still taking Zopiclone to help you sleep?’

  ‘Yes, unless I’m working early. They make me too sleepy otherwise.’

  ‘Would you like me to call your parents, maybe have your mother stay with you tonight?’

  She shook her head, glancing away. ‘I’m staying at theirs tonight. It’s already arranged.’

  He was relieved. Her senses and emotions were not so impaired that she needed hospitalisation, but nonetheless he was reassured that she would not be alone.

  As he put her into a taxi he felt a rare wave of frustration. She was his patient and she had been doing so well. He had imagined these sessions eventually ending and Emily resuming a normal life. He could not envision that any more. She was his patient and he had failed to make her well.

  *

  Nina Barrows was left feeling disturbed after being interviewed by the police. She had never been interviewed by them before, and though it was more of an informal chat, she felt as if she’d been picked over, put under a microscope. Geraldine Sutton had asked her several questions in relation to Emily Jacobs’ admission and Nina had answered as best she could without breaking patient confidentiality. She confirmed that as a patient Emily Jacobs had a nightmare post-operatively and was given something to settle her during the night, and woke the next day believing there had been another patient in the bed beside her. Nina Barrows was disturbed, though, because she really couldn’t be sure of exactly what Emily had seen. She needed to speak to Mr Dalloway, have him reassure her that there was nothing to worry about. Except that she had seen a young woman that day fitting the description Emily had given, standing with a suitcase outside the hospital. And she had seen her come in.

  *

  Emily swallowed the half-glass of vodka neat. She then stepped into the shower and stood under the cold running water, shivering as every inch of her skin was drenched. She had been floored by every shock she had received today; punch-drunk to the point where she thought her head would explode. When she walked into her flat she had two choices: lie down and accept that she’d lost her mind, or convince the police, Eric and her colleagues that she hadn’t. She didn’t know whether it had been Katka in that bed beside her; now she only wanted to prove that she had seen someone in it. She no longer cared whether that someone was a visitor or a worker in the hospital that day, or whether the person’s reason for being in Emily’s room was because she was tired, unwell, in the wrong room or had simply got fucking lost on her way to the bathroom. Emily just wanted this whole business to go away. She would hunt this woman down if it was the last thing she did, and when she found her she would march her in front of everyone who had ever doubted her.

  Stepping out of the shower she felt cold, and she welcomed the discomfort. She squeezed the bruise on her hip until she gritted her teeth. She was alive, more awake than she had been in a long time – and she was angry. In the space of a week people she counted on were showing other sides to their characters, like Geraldine, who had alarmed her when she had turned up on the ward like that. Why hadn’t she at least given her warning that she was coming to speak to Dalloway? Given her the chance to make sure she wasn’t there? She must surely realise the difficult situation she was in. And Eric, with his oh-so-quick decision to refer her to one of his ‘colleagues’. Yeah, right. Why didn’t he just come out and say psychiatrist? She had played along with his suggestion, slipped out the lie that she was staying at her parents’ house. As if she would. Just like she had no intention of seeing a psychiatrist. She would not be labelled something she was not. She would fight this alone, and when she was done she would walk away – maybe to California, once she found Zoe – and start again.

  Slicking back her wet hair, her blue eyes stared back, determined, from the mirror. She had a plan, the only one she could think of, as a last-ditch attempt to prove that this woman existed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She stepped into the lift and held the door as Shelly called out. ‘They called you in tonight as well? I’m only working a twilight shift. Eight till midnight, on account of working this morning.’ She scrutinised Emily as the lift rose to the next level. ‘You look gorgeous. I knew red lipstick would suit you.’

  Emily smiled. She had worn makeup for a good reason. ‘No. I’m off tonight, like you should be. I only came in to collect my bag. I left without it after I finished work.’

  ‘Poor you, having to come back. I imagine you forgot it after the upset of dealing with that cow, Mrs Jeffries.’

  ‘Hey-ho, these things happen.’

  In the changing room she quickly collected her bag, nodding at Shelly sympathetically as she as quickly departed. ‘Have a good shift, won’t you?’ she called as she left.

  Walking back down the corridor, she pushed open the door to the stairs, making her way down to the floor below. The hospital had a security guard at night and she wanted to track him down. She knocked on the closed door and it was opened by a tall, dark-haired man in his late thirties. The muscles in his arms caused the sleeves of his shirt to stretch taut. He smiled. ‘What brings you to my door?’

  Emily sauntered into the small office space. She had seen him looking at her and before tonight had ignored him. His name was Gary.

  ‘Hello, Gary, I have a teeny favour to ask you.’ She pulled a hopeful face.

  ‘Is that so?’ he asked, perching on the edge of his desk, his legs splayed, arms crossed in the manner of a man confident of his own attractiveness.

  ‘Uh, huh. I need to check something. You see, I was a patient here three weeks back. On June the thirtieth. Do we keep CCTV for that long?’

  He nodded. ‘We do.’

  ‘Oh, good. You see, I think a patient stole something from me and I can’t accuse anyone without proof. My job would be on the line if I did that.’

  He made a sound of disgust. ‘That takes the P. You look after them, then they do that to you. It’s usually us lot accused of things like that.’

  She murmured agreement. ‘I know. You see why I need your help.’

  ‘Leave it with me. I’ll soon find your thief.’ He stood up and reached for his uniform jacket. He took out a hip flask, untwisted the lid and poured a measure. ‘Here, you’re off duty, aren’t you? You look like you need a drink. Get that in you.’

  She took the lid cautiously and sniffed.

  ‘It’s only vodka. For medicinal purposes, of course. You never know when you’re going to come across someone in distress.’

  She cringed inwardly at this display of machismo. The confident look in his eyes made her uncomfortable. He must have thought he was well in with her to reveal this behaviour.

  She sipped and then slugged it back.

  He put on his jacket and she realised he was not staying. ‘Are you not going to look now?’

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t just yet. I have my rounds to do.’

  ‘I could look if you put it on for me. I’m good with technology. Then I could wait here till you come back and show you if I find the person. I’ve got nowhere to rush off to.’

  He smiled to himself and rubbed the side of his face, weighing up the options. Turning around to the desk, she moved to his side and saw the screen on his monitor. It was split into sixteen squares to show multiple live feeds, images of various parts of the hospital in each square. She could see the corridors on the first and second floors, the corridors of the four wards, the entrance foyer and the car park. ‘We keep video footage on here. It’s easier to check back, not t
hat we ever do. I’ve been here for two years and I’ve only ever been asked to look back on something once. That was a theft as well. One of the cleaners pilfering cleaning products. They carted stuff out every night till management cottoned on. He could have opened a shop with the amount of stuff he had taken. Maybe he did.’ He laughed.

  Emily continued to smile as she waited impatiently, while he tapped away at the keyboard, for him to find the file for the date she needed. She relaxed when the screen flickered with video footage of the corridor to Allen Ward and she saw the time and date in the upper right corner. ‘Thank you, Gary. I’m so grateful.’

  He paused the footage. ‘It’s not the clearest image but you can tell who’s who. There’s no sound, though. Just images.’ He squeezed her shoulder. ‘Well, keep my seat warm and I’ll be back,’ he called, doing a corny imitation of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

  She sighed with relief as he left and then sat down in his seat, her eyes fixed on the screen. She pressed play and soon she was transported back to the day of her operation. Images of Shelly, Barrows, Dalloway and Meredith appeared every so often as they walked along a corridor at various times, sometimes carrying things or pushing trolleys. She noticed Shelly hoick up her bra strap occassionally as it slipped down her arm. She saw the cleaner vacuuming with a cordless Henry. And then she saw herself coming back from the bathroom. She had just put on her theatre gown and was holding her toiletry bag close to her chest, probably to hide the fact that she was braless. She stared at her own image and thought she looked like a waif, vulnerable, and different to the person who’d looked back at her in the mirror earlier. She watched herself disappear into the side room. This was the moment she would have first seen the other patient in the room. It would only be another minute and the girl would walk right out of the room. Emily jolted and hit pause. There she was. Her face looking right up at the camera, with her yellow top with pink piping, her slight form and cloud of dark hair. There was a glint of silver on her wrist. Emily had finally found her.