Not My Daughter

Dee appeared behind me then.

‘Lorna,’ she said. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I was just going to talk to you about—’

‘This is your sister?’ Michael asked.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘This is Dee.’

‘A pleasure to meet you,’ said Michael, reaching out his hand to shake hers. Dee didn’t take it.

‘Lorna, please don’t do what I think you’re going to do,’ said Dee, arms crossed.

‘Listen, I’ll take care of your sister here,’ said Michael. ‘You have my word. And I’ll make sure all her rent is covered – whatever you need. I won’t leave you in a hole.’ He offered the big roll of cash to Dee.

Dee didn’t take the money. Instead, she fixed him with hard eyes. ‘You’re married. Right?’

Michael scratched his nose. ‘It’s complicated. Diane and I are apart more than we’re together. But let’s not get into that. Bits of paper and legal crap.’

‘Lorna has a life here,’ said Dee. ‘She has exams coming up. And she’s still recovering. Did she tell you she had cancer?’

‘She told me all about it,’ said Michael. ‘The full story. I will take care of her.’

‘Lorna, don’t do this,’ said Dee. ‘This is running away from your life. Not towards it. This is escape. Distraction.’ She turned on Michael. ‘Don’t you care that she’s studying? That you’re taking her away from her education?’

‘Sometimes real life is the best education,’ said Michael, stroking my arm and looking at me like I was something precious.

‘And what’s in it for you?’ Dee asked, arms still crossed. She knew the answer, of course. Sex on tap with a pliable, stupid teenager. But I have to hand it to Michael. Looking back, he never promised me anything. He was always upfront about who he was and what he was offering. It was me who filled in the blanks.

‘I want to go with him,’ I told Dee, nodding and nodding.

‘Lorna, I do not approve of this. It is not okay with me. This isn’t about rent or anything like that. It’s about your education and me caring about you. I swear to god, Lorna, if you go with him now, don’t come back when it all goes wrong.’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Rent my room out.’

Michael turned to me with soft eyes. ‘The tour bus is parked right up outside. Shall we get going?’

I laughed in happy shock. ‘Your tour bus is outside right now?’

Michael put hands on my shoulders. ‘We took a detour to come get you. To steal you away in the dead of night.’

‘What if she’d said no?’ Dee asked.

‘Soul mates don’t say no,’ said Michael with a flicker of a wink. ‘Go pack a suitcase, princess. Let’s get going.’

As I flung things into a bag – some clothes, books I was reading for school and all my make-up – Dee stood behind me. ‘Please. Please don’t do this.’

But when her words had no effect, Dee swung the other way again.

‘Fine. Be that way. Leave me all alone. Just don’t come crawling back to me when it all goes wrong.’

‘It’s not going to go wrong,’ I promised her. ‘This is destiny, Dee. Last night was the most amazing night. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. It’ll be fine. Better than fine. Don’t you think after everything I’ve been through I deserve my happily ever after?’

Dee let me go with a face that told me I’d broken her heart.

As far as I know, she never took Michael’s money.

Lorna

I pace the kitchen, phone hot against my ear.

I’m calling the only other mother I know – Helen. And I don’t know her that well. She used to bring her daughter, Julianne, here for playdates when Liberty was younger, but Liberty hasn’t talked about Julianne in years. I know I’m clutching at straws. I need a Coke for all the straws I’m clutching at.

Liberty’s breakfast fruit plate sits on the breakfast table. I’ve left it there because clearing it away is like admitting Liberty’s gone. And that’s too painful.

Nick is on his way home. He was on his way to a personal training client when I rang him. Good guy that he is, he turned his car right around and came home, promising his client a month of free sessions.

The police have come and gone. They told me that Liberty is legally allowed to visit her father. There is no reason to suspect that Michael Reyji Ray would hurt anyone. There’s nothing on record. It’s all fine. Leave her to it.

‘Michael Reyji Ray is not a good person,’ I said over and over again. I got the familiar looks of disbelief.

Michael Reyji Ray. Environmentalist. Music legend. Happily married to his childhood sweetheart. And what a dancer. A bad guy? You’ve got to be kidding – I have three of his albums. And I had the biggest crush on him when I was a teenager …

I pace by the gate as the phone rings and rings. Eventually a voice clicks on the line.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello?’ I start gabbling like a maniac. ‘Helen? Liberty’s gone. Might Julianne know where she is?’

‘Miss Miller?’

I hesitate. ‘Julianne? Is that you? When did you grow up? You sound just like your mother.’

‘Yes, it’s me, Miss Miller. Mum left for work already.’

‘Do you know where Liberty is, Julianne? She … she wasn’t in her bed when I woke up this morning.’

‘I’m very sorry to hear that,’ says Julianne.

‘You … I mean, you girls were friends once. Has she told you anything?’

‘We were friends about a hundred years ago,’ says Julianne, sounding suddenly prim. ‘Liberty changed. She doesn’t play chess or scrabble anymore … and now she’s into all that punk rock music stuff.’

‘She talked about someone called Abi. Do you know who that is?’

‘Oh, her. Yes, they hang out all the time, singing. Everyone thinks they’re going to be famous.’

‘Do you have a number for her?’

‘No. I don’t even have Liberty’s number anymore. Have you tried calling Liberty? She has a phone, doesn’t she?’

‘She doesn’t have her phone with her. I took it last night.’

‘Have you looked on her phone? For friends’ phone numbers?’

‘Her phone is locked. I don’t have the passcode. Where could she be?’

‘I have no idea, Miss Miller. We don’t really hang out anymore. I don’t appreciate Liberty’s attitude at school, to be honest. She thinks she’s better than everyone, just because she’s in a band. We don’t have an awful lot in common.’

‘A band? Liberty’s in a band?’ Panic. Utter panic.

‘Well … yeah. Didn’t you know? They think they’re going to be like the Beatles or something. Well, not the Beatles. I don’t know what sort of music they play.’

‘I didn’t know she was in a band.’ Nausea rises again. And then I start rambling: ‘Julianne. I think … maybe Liberty’s gone to see her father.’

Julianne hesitates. ‘There’s someone I could call. One of Liberty’s bandmates. Freddy. He’s okay. He’s in chess club with me. He might know where she is.’ I can almost hear her nodding at the phone. ‘I’ll text you his number.’

Julianne hangs up and I grab an ancient packet of cigarettes from the kitchen drawer and do something I haven’t done for years – smoke.

When the text finally comes through, I’ve smoked a cigarette right down to the butt, coughing after every inhale.

God bless Julianne’s reliability. I call the number and a young guy with a cracking, adolescent voice answers.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi … Freddy? This is Lorna. Liberty’s mother.’

‘Oh.’ A long pause. ‘Liberty told me about you.’

He means ‘warned’ of course. I take the bullet.

‘Listen, Freddy. Liberty has gone. She ran away this morning.’

More silence.

‘Do you know where she might have gone?’

Freddy doesn’t answer, but I hear him breathing.

I try for a softer approach: ‘How do you and Liberty know each other anyway? She doesn’t tell me about her friends.’

‘We’re neighbours,’ says Freddy, in a voice that conveys both surprise and teenage contempt for the utter stupidity of adults.

‘We are?’

‘Yes.’

‘I can’t see the street from our house. I guess … I’ve never noticed you.’

‘I’m the brown guy.’

‘So?’

‘Well … I stand out around here, is what I’m saying.’

‘You’re in a band with Liberty?’

A pause. ‘Yes.’

‘And there’s another person in the band? Abi, right?’

‘Yes. Abi.’

‘Could she be with her?’

‘I mean … probably not.’

‘How do you know?’

Another long silence.

‘Do you know where she is?’ I feel a horrible pang as the mother-daughter elastic band of closeness snaps completely. This complete stranger knows more about my daughter’s whereabouts than I do. ‘Please, Freddy. Please, please tell me if you do. I can’t look after her if I don’t know where she is.’

More silence.

A horrible chill runs through my stomach.

‘Has she gone to see her father, Freddy?’ I ask. ‘Is that where she’s gone?’

A long pause.

‘Um …’

‘Please tell me. Please. If you don’t, I’ll have to send the police around your house and—’

‘Yes. Okay, Miss Miller. Okay. Liberty’s gone to her father’s house. So there’s no need to worry. She’s been planning the visit for a while.’

‘No need to worry!’ I scream the words.

One of us hangs up, I’m not sure who. And I’m running to the garage, hunting in my pocket for van keys. It’s only when I jump into the driver’s seat that I realize I’m about to drive somewhere I swore I’d never go back to. A place where my worst nightmares came true.

This really is happening. Liberty has fallen right into Michael’s spiderweb and I’m hurling myself into the sticky silk after her.

Until now, I could have pretended. Maybe Liberty was with friends. Maybe she’d gone jogging around the neighbourhood just to scare the life out of me. Maybe, maybe …

I swallow down fear and self-loathing as I start the van.

I’ve always hated being this controlling monster. The woman who watches her daughter’s every move. Spies on her. I’ve tried to keep Liberty safe, but it hasn’t worked. I built tall fences but he got her in the end.

I want to collapse against the steering wheel, sobbing, wailing, but I don’t. Instead I accelerate down the drive and through the automatic gates, aerosol cans and silicone body parts jogging around in the back of the van.

There is only one choice here, and it isn’t to fall apart.

I need to get my daughter back.

As I roar towards the road, Nick’s green MG turns onto the driveway.

I slam on the brakes, seeing Nick’s shocked face. Then I wind down my window.

‘Nick, can you back up?’

Nick leans his head out of the driver’s window. ‘You nearly smashed right into me.’

‘Please. Can you move? Liberty’s gone to see her father.’

‘Her father? You’re kidding.’

‘I spoke to one of her friends. Some guy she’s in a band with. She’s gone to her father’s house.’

‘Liberty’s in a band? That’s cool.’

‘Not cool, Nick. Not cool at all. Her father is in the music business.’

Nick frowns. ‘Lorna, what’s the story with this guy? Don’t you think it’s time you told me?’

‘Nick, please just move. Please.’ My eyes flick to the road. ‘I’ll tell you his name, how about that?’

‘Who cares what his name is?’

‘He’s famous. Okay? Crazy famous. Like, Grammy award-winning millionaire famous. If I tell you who he is, will you move out of my way?’

Nick grips the steering wheel. ‘If that’s the best I’m going to get right now.’

‘Liberty’s father is Michael Reyji Ray.’

‘Whoa.’ Nick stares. ‘You’re kidding me. Michael Reyji Ray?’

‘She’s gone to his house and I’m going after her.’

‘You know where Michael Reyji Ray lives?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where?’

I hesitate. ‘Not far from here. Huntingdon Woods. He owns them.’

‘Huntingdon Woods? But … that’s … like a half-hour drive.’

I nod, eyes looking past him.

‘Why, Lorna?’

‘Why what?’

‘You could have lived anywhere. You’re a US citizen. You could have lived in the States. But you chose to live less than thirty miles from the guy, for Christ’s sake. Why?’

‘It’s hard to explain.’

Nick’s eyes harden. ‘Try.’

‘Nick. Right now, I just need to get Liberty out of there. Will you stay here? Someone needs to stay here. In case she comes back.’

Nick’s shoulder’s sag in resignation. ‘I’ll stay. But I’m struggling to get it, seriously. Really struggling. We live so close to the guy … why not live the other side of London at least?’

‘This is her father’s world,’ I say. ‘Don’t expect anything to make sense from now on.’

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