‘Don’t be strangers,’ I said cheerily.
They took it in turns to give me a big hug and left, Jack giving me a knowing nod before he disappeared. I waved them goodbye and ran back up to my apartment.
‘What the hell do I do now?’ I muttered to myself.
Chapter Eleven
‘You’re looking...well.’
It wasn’t a convincing greeting. I was not looking well and I knew it as well as she did. It was however polite and she was, if nothing else, professional to the last.
‘Please come and sit down then.’
I followed her into the room and perched uncomfortably in my usual seat. Dr Davies had not changed at all since I had last seen her. She was dressed as immaculately as before and greeted me with her usual, penetrating stare.
After Jack and Rachel had left, I had paced the flat not knowing what to do. I was ready to go after Emma and save her, if indeed she needed saving. The problem was that the whole of Scotland Yard, M15, the FBI and Interpol couldn’t find her so I wasn’t sure I could do much better. I had thought as hard as I could but nothing came to me. Eventually I had to turn my attention to going back to work on the Monday. That wasn’t happening. After working for a few days I didn’t feel like I could just phone in sick, certainly not without having to explain everything. I did however think they would allow me to miss work if I was seeing Dr Davies. My boss was under the impression that it was for my own good, as well as the safety of all the staff/electronic equipment at Hamilton’s, that I kept up regular visits to Dr Davies.
‘I see you came well prepared,’ she noted, glancing at the bag I had brought with me.
I smiled, ready to get down to business.
‘Yeah, thanks for seeing me at such short notice.’
She looked at quizzically.
‘Not at all,’ she replied. ‘It wasn't a problem.’
I had seen Veronica’s schedule regularly and finding any space was difficult. She must have been concerned. I felt honoured. I still wasn’t sure why I was here. That feeling was nothing new. I never knew why I was there. There was the inescapable feeling that whenever I was there, no matter how much I protested, I always found it helped. And right now I was out of ideas. So, with a heavy heart I had gathered up every bit of evidence of Emma, packed it in a bag and made my way to her office.
‘So what brings you here today, Tom?’ she enquired gently.
I had to approach this question carefully. I knew I could never tell Veronica everything and could certainly not involve her in anything criminal but I did want to think out loud.
‘I need to find Emma,’ I said at last.
‘Tom, we have agreed that what she did was awful and, whilst I do believe you need closure on this, do you really think you want to see her again?’
‘More than anything. She might need me,’ I countered.
‘Why, what makes you think that?’ Her question was invasive and I realised how careful I needed to be.
‘It’s just a feeling. I am worried that she didn’t want to leave. Anyway I don’t want to talk about why, I want to look at everything I know about what happened and hope we can come up with something.’
She frowned slightly, but didn’t say anymore. She clearly didn’t agree that this would help me but she was still being paid handsomely.
‘Right. Let’s start at the beginning. What do we know?’
This was tricky. I had to get it all out of my head but make sure nothing slipped about her past. At the same time, I didn’t want to just go over old details.
We spoke for a few minutes, simply rehashing old ground. She knew most of it and looking at the facts wasn’t helping me in any way. Then I said something I thought I never would.
‘Can we use the whiteboard?’
Veronica looked a little taken aback but composed herself quickly and smiled. It was the sort of smile that spoke volumes, saying ‘see I told you my methods always work’.
‘Of course, what a good idea.’ She got to work setting up its stand and moments later I stood in front of the board, pen in hand, feeling like a naughty school kid writing lines.
‘So let’s start from the beginning. You come home and...’ she waved her hand out, asking me to continue. If I was going to do it, I might as well do it properly.
‘OK, so I came in before six. I’m never later than six, even when I’m out late,’ I spoke slowly, trying to write the key facts as I spoke. My writing was slanting and messy and I remember feeling shame. You’re a grown man, damn it, why can’t you write in a straight line?
‘So I shout out, hear nothing and carry on as usual, checking emails and whatever. Emma is normally home first but she was so busy at ‘work’ that it wasn’t a surprise she wasn’t it. I remember deciding to cook her dinner.’
I caught up with my horrendous writing and looked at Dr. Davies. She didn’t reply so I carried on.
‘About fifteen minutes later, I found the note...it’s in my bag there.’ I stretched over, unzipped my bag and pulled out the note. It was a little creased but you could still read her writing clearly enough. I looked at the two words mournfully and then passed it to Veronica to examine. She'd heard about the note but had never seen it in real life. She inspected it in the same way that she inspected me. Clinically.
‘Was this the only thing she left?’
‘Yes. I mean some of her old items were in the house but they were just an old shirt and some magazines, you know. The note was the only thing she intended to leave me. Oh... and her key.’ I plunged another hand into the bag, felt the cold metal and passed it to her quickly.
‘So you are sure there are no messages left behind. Or perhaps a hidden code in the note?’ She was doing her best to entertain my opinions. We both knew how she felt. She believed Emma had left me, not wanting to be found, and I was too scared/sad to move on. I hoped she was wrong.
I glanced over at the note in the hope it was encoded with a secret message just the two of us would understand. I doubted it. ‘I’m sorry’ seemed fairly self-explanatory and I couldn’t see how you could hide a code in it. We had a few attempts at deciphering it but came up empty handed.
The rest of the hour raced by. At the end of the session all I had to show for it was several sheets of childlike print and a sore writing hand. I was no nearer to finding Emma and felt incredibly low. I don’t really know what I was hoping for, but I had pinned my hopes on Dr. Davies.
‘I’m sorry Tom, that’s about our time up for today,’ she whispered slowly. She may not have agreed with me but I did feel she wanted to help me if possible.
I smiled sadly, and stood up readying myself. I grabbed all my useless belongings and began bundling them back into my rucksack.
‘I’d like to see you again Tom. I’m sure we can help you, we are making good progress.’
I couldn’t say I agreed with her but I was too exhausted to argue. I made some non-committal statement about coming back soon. She passed me the note and held the key up, about to give it to me.
‘Why this key?’ she asked innocently.
I was confused. It seemed such a strange thing to say, I literally had no reply. I cobbled together my reply.
‘What?’
‘Well, don’t you have normal door keys?’
‘What?’ I was still no nearer to understanding her.
‘Tom, this looks more like a garage key or window or something. Why has she left this key? That’s not your front door key is it?’
I froze. What was she talking about?
She tossed me the key and I caught it. I stared at it and for the first time I properly looked at it. Holy Shit. It wasn’t our front door key. Of course it wasn’t. How could I be so stupid?
It was the same colour as mine but far too small. As Veronica had said, it looked more like a window or padlock key. It had no recognisable brand on it. I ripped my own keys out of my pocket and compared the two of them. Nothing like each other. I ran it past all of my
other keys, with mounting excitement as I did it. It was nothing like any of them. This was a clue!
‘Of course, it makes sense. I have never given it any attention you know? The note hit me like a bullet and I just assumed... it would be... Shit!’ I flicked my eyes up at her. She had responded well to me swearing. I think she believed it might be a clue for me to follow.
‘What do you think the key is for?’ she asked. That was not just therapist to patient; that was genuine concern. She cared.
‘I have no idea. But it’s got to mean something, right?’
‘OK, well that’s your homework before I see you next time. Find out what that key is for.’ She commanded, further adding to our teacher-pupil vibe.
‘I will. Thank you so much.’ I jumped towards and hugged her before I'd had time to think about what I was doing. I was tempted to add a cheeky kiss on the check but decided against it. I released her after a few moments and could see her visibly shaken up. She wasn’t sure where to put herself.
‘Sorry, and thank you again.’ I smiled at her and ran out of the room and after a swift pause to pay for my session, I was away.
*****
I ran most of the way to the tube station. The weather was pretty sunny for the first time in a while and by the time I had reached the tube, I was wet-through. I didn’t care. The truth was even if I did have a small lead it didn’t really help me. I estimated there must be millions of locks in London alone and trying each one wouldn’t be very time-effective. I needed to work out why she had left it and what it was for. Jack must have been right. This seemed to support his theory at least and as much as I wasn’t keen on the thought of the Kozlov brother’s being alive, let alone after us, I was in love with the idea that Emma still loved me. This was the first bit of hard evidence that she was the girl I loved. However small it was, it was a glimmer of hope.
As I settled on an almost empty tube, I began forming a plan. It wasn’t the most incredible, sophisticated scheme but it seemed a good place to start. I was going to go back to my flat and check every inch of it in case there was a box or a padlock or something I had never noticed before. It seemed logical that Emma may have left whatever she was hiding in our home. It also made sense that she had left it the way she did. If she knew someone was after her she could leave the key as if she was leaving her house key and nobody would suspect anything. It had taken me weeks (and someone spelling it out) to suspect something. Clever girl.
Soon enough I was off the tube and walking through the streets leading home. I was smiling again at last. I was still a million miles away from finding her but at least I felt like I was pointed in the right direction. What was this key for?
I eventually reached my apartment block and was striding towards the stairs when I heard a voice call my name. It was Sophie. I realised it had been several days since I had spoken to her and she must have been worried. She really was a good friend.
‘Tom?’ she called again. I reappeared around the corner, smiling.
‘Hey Sophie, how are you?’ I spoke calmly but cheerfully. She had looked after me so much and I wanted to give her a break from worrying about me.
‘How are you, darling?’ she asked rushing up the stairs and hugging me tightly.
‘Yeah, I’m surviving,’ I whispered as she had choked most of the breath out of me by hugging so strongly. Internally, I laughed darkly at how true to life the term ‘surviving’ was to my situation.
‘Are you free? Come and have a drink and talk; I want to know everything.’
So I told her. It was nice to be completely open with her. I wasn’t going to at first but she deserved to know. She was in this and I wanted to bounce some ideas off her. I told her about the Kozlovs and how much I worried about Emma, and how I was going to find her without getting the police involved. Sophie was perfect throughout. She never once interrupted, save for the odd gasp of astonishment, and let me get it all out. I loved her for that.
‘So now I know this is a message and if I can just find out what this key is for, I can find her. I know I can,’ I finished, exhausted by my efforts.
‘Wow Tom, you sure as hell have an exciting life! Are you sure you don’t want to go to the police? They might be able to help.’
‘No, definitely not,’ I replied, firmly. ‘Jack will help anyway he can, but I can’t risk it. If the police catch up with the Kozlovs they would have no reason to keep Emma alive and that is the only hope I’m clinging on to.’
She nodded with understanding.
‘So now I just have to find what this key is for,’ I muttered, holding it up to show Sophie.
She paused silently and stared at the key. She stood up and rushed to her bag. ‘I know what that is!’ she shouted, rummaging through all her possessions.
‘Shit! You do?’ I replied, buzzing with adrenaline.
She pulled out her set of keys and held them up, showing off one key that looked identical to Emma’s. I took them from her and held them together. They were the same.
‘Oh my god, this is it! What is this key for?’
‘About six months ago Emma came to see me and we chatted. She mentioned she wanted somewhere to store her stuff. Important stuff. Well a couple of years ago, when things with David got bad, he started messing with my things. Items that had real sentimental value. I wanted to hide them and someone told me to get a locker somewhere. You could pay a pound and keep the key, knowing your stuff is safe somewhere in London. Somewhere no one would ever find it. It was quite a cool, romantic idea to me and Emma agreed. I never asked her if she did it in the end. I guess she did.’
‘So where is this locker?’ I begged, almost bursting with intrigue. I needed to know with every fibre of my being.
Sophie smiled at me softly and spoke.
‘Victoria Station.’
Chapter Twelve
‘I always miss out on the good stuff!’
This was beginning to feel achievable. Since the day she left Emma had been like a ghost to me, always just out of reach. But I could feel her near me again.
Victoria Station. As soon as Sophie had uttered the words I was up on my feet and ready to go. It was only early afternoon and I could be there soon. I could follow Emma’s trail of clues all the way to her.
‘Thank you so much Sophie, you have no idea how much this has helped me,’ I said, hugging her as tightly as she had done earlier and making for the door.
‘Wait, are you going there now?’
‘Yeah, of course.’
‘Well... can I come?’
I thought quickly to myself. Why not? I would love the company and as it was her idea to store stuff at the station in the first place, it makes sense that she shows me exactly where.
‘You sure you want to come?’ I asked quickly.
‘Yes please. I always miss out on the good stuff!’ With that she snatched up her bag, slipped on a light jacket and walked past me, out the door.
‘OK... I guess that’s fine then,’ I mumbled and followed her out of the building.
The station was less than ten miles away and even in London traffic, was reachable in half an hour. Sophie offered to use her car and I wasn’t going to argue. She was a safe enough driver and it would allow me time to prepare myself. What if I was wrong about this? What if this was all a coincidence and she had just left me an old key she didn’t need? No. I knew it was a deliberate plan. If she had just flung her keys down, why didn’t she leave her house key, or back door key for that matter? No, this was her way of getting a message to me. It has to be.
‘Do you think it can still work?’ Sophie asked.
‘What?’ I replied, not sure what she meant.
‘Well...you and Ems. I mean even if she didn’t want to leave you there is still the lies about the job and the wedding. Plus the fact that she is one of the best con artists of the twenty-first century. Do you think you can ever trust her again?’
I thought her questions over for a second.
> ‘I don’t know,’ I said truthfully. ‘I guess it depends what her explanation is for all this. It may not help but I need to talk to her and hear her side of the story, you know? I guess it depends what is in this locker.’
Sophie smiled and nodded, it was clear she didn’t want to push the topic anymore.
‘I can’t explain it, Soph. After weeks of thinking she never loved me, finding out she could have this big criminal past, didn’t seem to faze me that much.’ I paused for a brief second. ‘Can I be really honest?’
‘Of course, always.’
‘I kind of like it. I don’t know why but it’s exciting, right?’
‘It certainly is never boring with you guys!’ She grinned.
I had underestimated Sophie in so many ways. As soon as we hit traffic, she dipped down some side roads and sped off impressively fast. She was enjoying the adventure; I could see that in her eyes. We whizzed down roads I had never seen before, weaving in and out of the parked cars. Before I knew it, we were there.
Victoria Station is an impressive building. As we approached you could make it out from a good distance away. It stood tall in the London skyline, the dark red bricks standing out sharply against their paler equivalents. The white clock face appeared to be working and told me the time was not yet two in the afternoon. With Sophie driving, we really had made good time.
We eventually parked and snaked through the queues of pedestrians and traffic into the building. There were many buildings I loved in London but the more I saw of this one, the more I like it. If I found information helping me find Emma it would officially become the best building of all time.
Sophie lead the way, and I followed swiftly behind. Even on a Monday, half way through a working day the station was full of people. People of all ages, races, genders and, no doubt, sexual orientation. It seemed to typify the whole of London inside one building. As I walked, I glanced at the faces of some people and saw that glow of delight when two people who haven’t seen each other for a while finally meet once more. It was beautiful. I wondered what it would feel like to see Emma again. It was going to be perfect.
‘It’s this way, come on,’ called Sophie, taking my hand in hers to avoid getting separated. We moved past the open spaces, through an archway you could easily miss and finally around a sharp corner. Standing there in front of me must have been at least five hundred lockers. All identical, with hard silver casings, and nothing to tell them apart save a small number printed on each one. They were just the same as you would find in any cheap gym or school and, no doubt, in all the railway stations in London.