‘Charlotte says hello,’ Mike said, dunking a biscuit in his coffee. ‘She’ll come next time, she’s busy studying for her first lot of exams next week.’
Maggie put her mug down at the mention of Mike’s sister, one of the two abducted girls she’d helped find in the summer. Her heart ached as she thought of the other girl, Jane, Chloe’s sister. They’d all been shocked to hear what had happened. She must have been suffering more than they’d thought, to even contemplate suicide. ‘How are you doing, Chloe?’
A tear fell over her eyelashes, and she dashed it away with the back of her hand. ‘I-I’m okay. Mum’s pretty torn up about it.’
Maggie reached over and patted her arm. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s okay, honest. If Charlotte hadn’t phoned her right at that moment, I’m not sure Jane would still be with us. She said she had the pills in her hand, and she was going to take them.’ She sniffed. ‘Mum’s at the unit with her now, she goes there once a week to see how they’re doing. She sent me a text, says Jane’s looking much better and she’s interacting more with Daisy.’
‘It’ll take time, but Jane will get there. She’s a tough cookie,’ Maggie said. Her heart broke for both Jane and Charlotte and what they’d been through, what they were still going through, months after being safely returned to their families. She still had nightmares herself about that time, she could only imagine how they were feeling. And poor Jane had a baby to add to the equation, as well. Pregnant when they’d found her, she’d given birth to Daisy shortly after. The doctors blamed postnatal depression for her suicide attempt, but Maggie guessed it was more complex than that.
‘What about Charlotte? How’s she coping?’
Mike cleared his throat. ‘She’s fine. She was cut up, she hadn’t guessed what Jane was going to do, but I think she’s accepted it wasn’t her fault. She was going through her own shit.’
‘That’s good. I think we all feel guilty, none of us had a clue. The last thing Charlotte should do is blame herself. You said she’s studying for exams?’
‘Yeah. She decided to go back to college, get some A-levels, then go on to uni. Says she wants to be a psychologist. I told her she needs her head examined.’
Maggie groaned.
Chloe grimaced. ‘You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that one,’ she said, rolling her eyes.
‘Oh, I can imagine,’ Maggie reassured her.
‘So, what about you, Mags? Working on anything interesting?’
‘Nice change of subject, Mike.’ Maggie laughed out loud, making the other customers turn in their direction. The old man tutted and sipped his tea, frowning at them.
‘Oops.’ Maggie lowered her voice. ‘No, just the same old. Roger wasn’t happy with me taking all the limelight, so he’s put me and Andy on the most boring stories he can find.’
‘I can’t believe that, he got the exclusive. After everything you went through. Grumpy old git,’ Chloe said.
‘Yeah, I know, but we went behind everyone’s back. We didn’t tell him what was going on until afterwards, I didn’t want to get the police involved, and we dragged you two along with us, putting you in danger. We were lucky your parents didn’t sue the paper and Roger didn’t fire us.’ Maggie stared down into her coffee cup, remembering how Roger had bawled her and Andy out in his office.
‘I think they were just happy to get Charlotte and Jane back.’ Chloe took the last biscuit and dunked it in Mike’s coffee, smiling at his annoyed expression. ‘And if I remember rightly, Mike and I insisted on coming with you up to Butterton, we didn’t give you much choice. Anyway, you were in more danger than the rest of us. You went back in there to save that psycho while the place was in flames.’
Maggie fixed her gaze on the table. Those last few minutes in the farmhouse were a confused jumble of images in her mind, but she definitely hadn’t gone back to save a madman intent on dying in the fire. After she’d found out he murdered her nephew, Thomas, she’d only had one thought on her mind, and it hadn’t been at all noble or heroic. It would only have taken one shove to push him into the flames, and she’d almost done it too. No, she didn’t deserve the heroic label the press had given her.
‘I reckon Roger’s jealous you got all the fame and glory, while he was stuck in the office scratching his balls,’ Mike declared, oblivious of her silence. ‘So, you going back to that investigative journalism stuff?’
‘You have such a way with words, Mike.’ Maggie rubbed her eyes and smiled at him. ‘I don’t know yet. I stopped mainly because of my illness, not because I didn’t want to do it anymore. I’d like to do something along those lines, though. Apart from almost getting blown up, I enjoyed the adrenaline rush again. It all depends on whether Roger will let me.’
‘Well, let us know how it works out.’
‘Of course. So, how’s the studying going?’
‘Don’t ask,’ Chloe groaned. ‘Mike’s coaching me for a maths exam I’ve got to take… I hate maths.’
Mike glanced at his phone. ‘Speaking of which, we’d better get going…’
‘Okay, okay, I know.’ Chloe gave Mike a dirty look, then grabbed her coat and started putting it on. ‘Bloody taskmaster,’ she muttered.
‘At least you’ve got a good teacher,’ Maggie said.
Chloe patted Mike on the shoulder. ‘When he’s not telling crap jokes.’ She smiled at him. ‘Come on then, let’s get going.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He saluted her and jumped to his feet. ‘Christ, the nagging’s started already, we’ve only been going out a year.’
‘You love it really,’ Maggie teased.
‘Yeah, I’m a masochist, me. Say hi to Sally for us.’
‘Will do. Take care of yourselves. And keep in touch.’
‘You too.’ Chloe gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘How about we all go and visit Jane soon? She’d like that.’
‘It’s a date. Just let me know when.’ She gave them both a hug, ignoring Mike’s embarrassed face, and waved as they left the café.
Maggie started on her second coffee after they had gone, and signalled the waitress to bring her a cream bun she’d been eyeing ever since she arrived. She bit into it and closed her eyes in ecstasy as the flavours hit her tongue.
Licking her fingers, she remembered the envelope in her bag. She rummaged about and fished it out. The handwriting on the envelope was unfamiliar, and she noticed it was high-quality paper. Maybe Laura had been right and it was an invitation from Number Ten or Buckingham Palace. She slid the sheet out and started to read.
Dear Maggie,
You probably don’t remember me, my family was one of your many success stories from your time as an investigative journalist. I hardly remembered you, until you were on the news recently after having found those poor girls.
I admire your tenacity, not many people would have done so much for complete strangers. I’d forgotten that about you too, your tendency to carry on when others would have given up.