I'll Find You

  Her eyes fixed on the face and she touched a finger to the screen, feeling a connection to this young woman. She looked so young. What had she been doing there? Then a memory caused her to close her eyes as she heard the sounds again. Sounds that were like a captive bolt cattle stunner. Thunk, thunk. Two abrupt muffled sounds hitting that small chest – not once but twice. Her bed was empty the next morning. The linen fresh and new.

  Her vision blurred. She had not imagined this woman. She had not imagined what happened to her in the night. They had told her that she was the only one in that room. They had told her she had imagined it. Someone had lied, for one purpose only – to cover up a death. Something had gone wrong and she was sure that this young woman had died. Was it her? Was it Katka? Either Dalloway or Barrows had to have known that she was there. There was no way they couldn’t. They had tried and failed to make this disappear. Either they had colluded, or only one of them was guilty.

  It was time to let them know that she had not given up. Dalloway had given her his mobile number and for the first time, she called him.

  His voice was clipped when he answered. ‘Rupert Dalloway speaking.’

  ‘I can prove she existed,’ she said.

  She heard his intake of breath. ‘Emily?’

  ‘What happened to her, Mr Dalloway? Did she die and you covered it up?’

  ‘Emily, are you at the hospital?’

  ‘Yes, and I’ve called the police,’ she added, intending to do so the second the call ended.

  ‘Emily, I think you need help.’

  Emily held back tears. Why wouldn’t he admit what was going on? Was he as innocent and genuine as he sounded? Someone was covering something up. ‘I’ve seen her. The patient who was in the bed beside me. Maria’s niece.’

  ‘Where are you in the hospital, Emily?’

  Emily had no intention of telling him. She didn’t trust him. She wanted this video recording kept safe for the police to see.

  ‘You’re not well, Emily, you realise that.’

  She laughed harshly. ‘So you would have me believe. You’re very clever, Mr Dalloway, and I’m sorry if you’re not the guilty party in all of this, but someone is.’

  ‘You’re making mistakes, Emily. Look at today.’

  With a shaking hand she moved the phone away from her ear and ended the call. Scrolling through her contacts, she stabbed Geraldine’s name. The phone rang and rang and then she heard Geraldine speaking and quickly spoke over her, till she realised it was a recorded message. Desperate for it to finish, she hurriedly told her where she was and what she had found. ‘Hurry, Geraldine. I’ve seen the missing patient. I found Katka. Dalloway already knows I’m here at the hospital.’ She then hung up. Dalloway’s words rang in her ears. Why had he said she was making mistakes? Because she had gone to the police and reported a missing patient? Because she was wrong to think it was Katka? Or did he mean something more pertinent to today? Did he think she had done something to Neil Jeffries, that she had in some way caused that reaction, that she was to blame?

  She minimised the file on the screen. She moved the cursor down the list of channels in the grey bar to the file named Allen Ward, dated for today. The incident happened as she was due to finish her shift. She tapped the backward arrow of the recording, her finger ready to press play. The images changed fast. A few minutes later, she clicked. Mrs Jeffries was coming out of her husband’s room. She turned left, heading for the visitor’s bathroom, the dining room or perhaps the exit. She had said she was gone for five minutes, so unless she smoked, the first two options were more likely. On her heels, Shelly also exited the room, a cardboard urinal in her hands. Emily looked at the time of the recording. There were still a few minutes to go until the emergency call bell was pulled. The corridor stayed empty. Emily waited and less than a minute later, Mrs Jeffries came hurrying back along the corridor, checking over her shoulder twice. She reached the door and looked back again before quickly disappearing into the room. A moment later she peered out the door, her head inching slowly forward, before making a sudden dash, almost a run, back the way she had come. Halfway along the corridor, she stopped. She fiddled with the strap of her bag, opened it to check the contents, then zipped it closed and held it firmly to her side. She smoothed her hair and seemed to come to a decision. With her shoulders pulled back, she took a slow walk back to the room. At the doorway she looked in. Then, raising an arm in the air, she waved it over her head, opened her mouth and made screams that Emily couldn’t hear.

  Emily paused the video, her eyes fixed on the screen, her mind assembling everything she had just seen. It was Mrs Jeffries who had caused this problem. Her behaviour indicated that she’d been up to something very suspicious. She had done something to her husband and that made her a very dangerous woman. She clicked the file closed, her mind whirring. She needed to report this as soon as possible. Geraldine was her best bet. She’d show it to her at the same time as showing the one of Katka. Despite everything else she had to worry about, Emily could not let this woman get away with what she’d done. For now, though, she wanted out of this room before Gary came back. She wanted somewhere to hide.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Geraldine listened to the recorded message again on her mobile and stared at the far wall in her office in disbelief. Emily had just stated that she had found Katka. She had seen the missing patient. Which was a miracle, considering Katka was well over a thousand miles away, in her own home, her own country, Romania. Only minutes ago, with the help of Katka’s surname, Geraldine had looked at Katka Vasile’s Facebook photos. Ten minutes ago she had been speaking to the young woman on the phone. Geraldine had spoken to both her and her aunt for several complicated minutes, with much of the conversation being a repeat of the same apology, formed of few words: ‘I sorry. I sorry for much worry. I home now. I safe. She sorry. She home now. She safe.’ Katka Vasile could not be in two places at once. So whoever Emily had seen, it was not her, which led Geraldine to rise from her chair with a decision to make. She needed to bring Emily in for a stern chat. Or else get her the help she needed. This behaviour had to stop. She scrolled through her contacts until she found Eric Hudson’s name. She was sure he would want to know that the police were concerned about his patient. She hoped so anyway, because she was becoming just a little weary of dealing with her.

  *

  The corridor was quiet. There was no sign of Gary or anyone else. Offices were locked for the night, doors were closed, all was quiet. Should she wait outside the hospital until Geraldine arrived? She needed to pee and at this time of night the changing room would be empty, the staff out on the wards. She could wait there. She made her way back up the stairs and realised her legs were shaking. Reaction had set in because of what she had found and set in motion. The enormity of what she was involved in struck home. Dalloway and Barrows’ worlds were about to be rocked. She was being reckless. She shouldn’t chance meeting them while alone. She should wait outside. Turning back down the stairs she saw the top of Gary’s head moving upwards towards her. ‘Fuck,’ she said under her breath. She would have to take the lift instead.

  Easing the door open, she peered into the corridor, looking both ways. There was no one in sight, so she made a run for the lift. Then a voice cracked the air like a whip. ‘Stop right there, Nurse Jacobs.’

  She staggered as if poleaxed, trying to stay on her feet and turning to face Barrows, her eyes startled and scared. Barrows looked at her accusingly.

  ‘What are you doing here at this time of night?’

  She turned a shoulder, showing her rucksack. ‘Collecting this. I left it here after work.’

  Barrows was not fooled. ‘Shelly said you were here over an hour ago. She thought you were on duty. What have you been doing since then?’

  Her thoughts scattered. ‘I umm . . . I.’

  ‘What are you up to, Nurse Jacobs, skulking around the hospital at night? Do I need to call security?’

  Emily felt cornered
. Was this a trick? Was Barrows in on it with Dalloway? Was she intending to imprison her until he arrived? She still had no idea which one she could trust, if either. She could outrun her, though.

  ‘I asked you a question!’

  ‘She’s here because of me. It’s my fault, Sister Barrows. I asked her to help with a patient.’

  Emily swung her head round, her eyes latching onto Shelly.

  Barrows was aghast. ‘Wearing her civvies, you let her help you with a patient?’

  Shelly gave a dismissive shrug. ‘It’s no big deal. The patient didn’t care. He wanted out of a wet bed, it was as simple as that.’

  Barrows was red in the face, her lips pressed tight. ‘See yourself out, Nurse Jacobs,’ she said coldly, before marching away.

  Emily slumped forward and breathed in hard. ‘Jesus Christ, this place is doing my head in. I’m not sure I can stick it much longer, Shelly.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Shelly replied.

  She gazed at Shelly. She could trust no one. Not even her. Geraldine would arrive soon. Dalloway might arrive even sooner. She needed to get out of the place and keep watch for who arrived first. She shook her head and made towards the lift. Shelly stopped her in her tracks. ‘You found her, didn’t you?’

  She turned in surprise.

  ‘The patient. You’ve found her, haven’t you?’

  Emily advanced towards her. ‘What do you know about it?’

  Shelly shook her head. ‘We can’t talk here. Barrows will be back. I need a coffee and a vape. Let me grab some and I’ll meet you in the changing room.’

  *

  Emily sank down on the floor and leaned back against her locker. She wondered if this was the last time she would be in this room. After tonight she could not imagine she would be welcomed back. Dalloway and Barrows were sure to be taken in for questioning. The best thing she could do was hand in her notice and make a clean break from the place. She could be back working in her old department as soon as next week. They were always desperate for staff.

  She heard the door push open. Shelly came around the corner carrying two mugs. She handed one to Emily and pulled a red vaporiser from her pocket. Sucking hard, she blew a plume of smoke that a steam train would be proud of. Emily giggled.

  ‘They’d see you coming a mile away smoking that thing.’

  ‘At least it doesn’t set off the fire alarms.’

  She took another drag and blew up at the smoke detector defiantly.

  ‘What do you know about this missing patient? What happened to her?’

  ‘I don’t know anything,’ she said, staring Emily straight in the eye. ‘God’s honest truth, I don’t.’

  ‘But you said to me the next morning that you thought she’d been moved during the night.’

  Shelly shook her head. ‘I said something, but I’m not sure I said exactly that. My shift finished in the afternoon the day before. Another patient could have been admitted and discharged before I even came back on duty the next morning.’

  ‘So what made you think I’d found her tonight?’

  Shelly stared at her. ‘You. I knew you were up to something. You’ve been here well over an hour. And Barrows got me suspicious as well. She asked me if you’d said any more about being in that room. About seeing that patient. She seemed . . . worried. I guessed something was amiss when you asked about her before. I never actually saw her, but I had no reason to believe you didn’t. Dalloway and Barrows were discussing you after you were discharged. She was trying to make out that you’d hallucinated, imagined a patient beside you.’

  ‘She was there,’ Emily said wearily. ‘I just saw her on CCTV.’

  ‘God, Emily, I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes.’

  She stood up. Geraldine must surely be here by now. Her legs felt like jelly. Her eyes were heavy. Reaction had certainly set in. She could sleep for a month. ‘Don’t worry about me, Shelly. The police are on their way.’

  With Shelly behind her, she stepped out of the changing room. The atmosphere was quiet and still. The corridor suddenly seemed so much longer. She placed a hand against the wall to steady herself. She could hardly think straight. She looked back at Shelly – the care assistant was edging back into the room – and saw something in her eyes. ‘Did you put something in my coffee?’

  Shelly shook her head. ‘You’re imagining it,’ she said. Emily made a grab for her, but the door closed in her face. Her eyes focused on the keypad, the numbers blurring. She needed to get out of there, to find Geraldine and get some fresh air. She slowly turned her head and saw them at the end of the corridor. Lined up, side by side, standing there – waiting. Geraldine, Dalloway and Barrows. Behind Geraldine were two uniformed police. She saw the confident manner in Dalloway and knew that they weren’t there for him. They were there for her. She slumped to the ground and through the fogginess she saw them reaching for her, lifting her, felt a solidness beneath her as they lay her back down. The ceiling above was moving, each dimmed square of light passed over her. Voices reassured her. She closed her eyes. They had nothing to say that she wanted to hear.

  ‘It’s for the best,’ she heard someone say. Best for who, she wanted to ask. For the first time in her life she wanted to die; to be taken away from the life she was living.

  She let Zoe’s image fill her mind and she reached out and touched her sister’s face. ‘Stay with me,’ she whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Geraldine felt sick. It had all happened so quickly, so efficiently. One minute Emily lay there collapsed on the corridor floor, the next she was being carted away on a trolley. The decision to take her away had come from this psychiatrist now stepping forward to speak to her. He was impressive, both in his physical appearance – very short-cut grey hair following the shape of his head, well-tailored suit fitting his tall frame – and in his intellectual air.

  ‘We’ll keep her in overnight. Dr Hudson is an AMHP, and an application to detain her has now been made. Approved Mental Health Professional,’ the psychiatrist explained, misreading the query in her eyes.

  ‘I know what it is,’ Geraldine said. She was confused. She’d spoken with Eric Hudson less than an hour ago. He surely couldn’t have decided on this without first seeing Emily? ‘How come a decision was made so quickly? Did Eric Hudson make this happen?’ She felt crass as she saw his stiff smile.

  ‘It wasn’t a quick decision. Dr Hudson had already referred Emily Jacobs to me this afternoon. She presented with symptoms that justified his decision to refer her. His understanding was that she was to stay with her parents tonight, but her mother has no knowledge of this arrangement. The important thing is that she’s now in a place of safety. He’s on his way here now, as I believe he received a call from the police to say she was here at the hospital acting irrationally. Are you intending to arrest her, or charge her with something?’

  Geraldine frowned. ‘That’s true, I did call him. Though we only intended to question her. Or worst case, to detain her. I forgot you had a psychiatric wing here. Being private, I don’t tend to think of it. But I suppose it’s the best place for her to be right now.’

  ‘The presence of the police can sometimes have a somewhat alarming effect.’

  She prickled. Was he suggesting Emily had collapsed at the sight of the police? She had howled when they had lifted her off the floor, her arms feebly pushing them away. ‘It was a precaution. Solely to keep her safe. We had no idea what condition we would find her in. She’s going through some serious stuff, I hear?’

  He gave a confirming nod. ‘Dr Hudson has briefed me. Though I would prefer to form my own opinion for the meantime,’ he added, as if she were about to launch into gossip.

  Geraldine felt her chest flush with warmth. ‘Of course,’ she replied, rattled. ‘As do I. As the officer in charge of the investigation of her missing sister, I’ve formed a close relationship with Emily.’ Geraldine wanted to let him know that she was not a frumpy woman in her forties without a brain on the back e
nd of a career. She had a brain too. She chased murderers, criminals, the undesirables.

  He took her barb for concern. ‘She will have a full assessment. You can rest assured. And now, if that’s all, I’d like to check on my patient, see that she’s settled.’

  Geraldine watched him go. She couldn’t get out of her mind the image of Emily standing there as she realised they were waiting for her and she felt . . . guilty. The look in Emily’s eyes as she realised she was cornered was haunting.

  In the corridor she saw Sister Barrows.

  The woman looked formidable. Tall, straight and angular, with a face set rigid. Her eyes, though, showed something different: an inner turmoil.

  ‘Very unpleasant business,’ Geraldine commented. ‘The psychiatrist seems a bit scary.’

  The ward sister blinked hard as if to clear her vision. ‘Dr Green is a remarkable man.’

  Geraldine was glad she now knew his name. She would avoid him if she ever had a mental health problem. ‘Why do you think Emily’s so convinced she saw this woman?’

  Barrows folded her arms, her face mute. She had worn the same expression when Geraldine questioned her before.

  ‘You’re a nurse. You must have an opinion?’

  The woman shuddered. ‘The whole thing is preposterous.’

  Geraldine waited and, when nothing was forthcoming, said: ‘That’s it? Simple as that?’

  ‘What would you have me say?’ she asked coolly. ‘She was clearly not ready to resume duties. Perhaps the anaesthetic caused a reaction, but you would have to ask the anaesthetist about that.’

  Geraldine felt sorry for Emily that she had worked in such a seemingly uncaring place. No wonder she unravelled. Her work was what she lived for.

  Her parents were first-class failures, but she would let them know their daughter was in hospital. It was the least she could do for Emily. If by some miracle they stepped up to their role it would be something. Despondent at all she had seen and heard, she turned to leave. She had a report to write up and her children to get home to. Her bed. Her safe world. She hoped Emily was feeling safe.