and previous address.
I feel dizzy and elated.
At last it looks like I might have a chance to find out who Sophie Taylor is.
40
Back at the apartment, I sit and comb through the personal details on the optician’s form.
Aside from Sophie Taylor’s own details, it’s the next of kin I’m really interested in.
She’s named as Linda Gent, relationship: sister.
Before I can get cold feet I rattle off a short email.
Dear Linda,
I’m so sorry to send this unsolicited email but I am an old friend of your sister’s, Sophie.
Would it be possible to meet for a coffee or have a chat? I’m sorry to intrude but it’s really important to me that we speak.
Best wishes, Freya Miller
There’s only a little fib in there, that I’m an old friend of Sophie’s. If she agrees to meet me or chat on the phone, I’ll come clean right away and hope she’ll understand why I’ve had to stretch the truth to find a way forward.
I feel so desperate to speak to Linda right now. Email is less intrusive than a phone call, but perhaps if I texted . . .
I pick up my phone and fire off a brief text explaining I’ve sent her a longer email, but asking if she could meet me ASAP as I’ve just found out about Sophie.
I don’t know where the rest of the morning goes. I feel lethargic and out of sorts and I just lie on the couch, unable to rest, unable to get anything done in the apartment.
When my phone dings signalling a text message, I grab it and see it’s a text from Linda Gent.
She’s agreed to meet me at 1 p.m. at a café just two Tube stops away.
The door of the café opens and a short, thin woman stands dithering there before stepping inside.
She reminds me of a frightened bird, the way her head is jerking this way and that as if she’s looking for danger nearby before she is willing to hedge her bets and step fully into the café.
She looks like I have started to feel myself.
I just know that this woman is her. This is Linda Gent, Sophie’s sister. She sees me looking and tentatively approaches my table.
‘Hi, is it Linda?’ She nods, relieved. ‘I’m Freya. Thanks so much for coming.’ I offer to get her a coffee, but she’s in no mood for small talk.
‘Not for me, thanks. How do you know Sophie?’
I can tell that if I admit to blurring the truth too early on in our conversation, Linda is nervous enough to walk away.
‘I think she’s the Sophie I knew a few years back but what’s reminded me, is that I think I might have moved into her old apartment on Palace Gate.’
Linda frowns. She’s going to stand up and walk out any second, I can feel it.
‘A letter came for her from an optician and your name and phone number was on there as next of kin. I just—’
‘I need to check if it’s the same place. You said you’re living on Palace Gate. Is the building called Adder House?’
‘That’s right.’ I swallow hard. ‘I live in a small top-floor apartment with my daughter, Skye.’
‘Oh God.’ Linda’s hand flies to her mouth and she squeezes her eyes shut as if she can’t bear the pictures that are flooding in. ‘This is important, Freya. How did you find out about it, the apartment? How did you know it was up for rent?’
‘It was totally by chance. I was in—’
‘A coffee shop? And Marsden happened to sit at your table by chance? Showed you his rental flyers? Asked if you wanted to view the apartment, despite it being something you could never afford to rent in a million years?’
‘Something like that, yes.’ I swallow again, wiping my damp palms on my jeans.
‘That’s exactly what happened to Sophie, and I can assure you that chance had nothing to do with it. Every single word he uttered to you was planned.’
41
This is all just starting to feel more than a bit paranoid now. Had Brenna been right about Dr Marsden all along? Linda has obviously had the most terrible experience involving her sister and young niece.
‘I’m Melissa’s legal guardian now. She’s still not sleeping through the night, still having the most awful nightmares.’ Linda stands up, wringing her hands and scanning the windows of the café. ‘Do they know you’re here? You might have been followed.’
‘It’s OK, Linda, please relax,’ I say as calmly as I can while my own heart