‘And you know he won’t be giving her access to any food or water. How long do you think she’ll last, Sam?’
He looked at me. This wasn’t exciting any more. ‘She wasn’t depressed, or lonely. You heard her friend, this morning. She was happy, looking forward to going on a night out. He’s only ever gone for – well. You know.’
‘I just think the fact that he knew her is too much of a coincidence, don’t you? I think he’s got her somewhere. He’s waiting for her to die.’
I’d been thinking about telling Sam what I’d found out this morning, about Colin’s apparent visit to Grayswood Lane on Saturday, but that would have been crossing a whole new line beyond the one I’d already crossed by performing unauthorised searches on the system. Besides that, Sam had just given me an idea. Audrey wasn’t depressed, not the way I had been – without even fully realising that I was that bad, without even giving it that name. It had been the shock, really, but also the loneliness and the frustration at work and the feeling that I was slipping away, beginning to disappear. It had been like evaporating, as though I was going to cease to exist and nobody would even notice. And seeing Colin, outside his house, had brought back memories of things he had said to me. The words he’d used – release – choice – acceptance. It had been my decision. He’d not made me do anything I hadn’t already considered, already wanted to do. I had wanted it all to go away, and he had said that was alright, it was a decision I could make. He gave me the guts to do it, I think. Permission, if such a thing was needed. And he told me it wouldn’t hurt; it would be peaceful, quiet, on my terms. He told me I could sleep and wait for it to happen and that I would not be afraid.
If anything, Sam had been the one in the wrong. He’d hauled me back from a place I’d gone to willingly. But now, of course, I knew he’d been right to do it. There were still moments, though, when I thought of being alone, of closing the door, and waiting for the quiet and the stillness and the word he used a lot – transformation. Becoming something better, more beautiful, with no striving or effort. Just peace.
It still crossed my mind that maybe he was an angel after all.
The only thing that really made a difference was the thought of all those other people he’d done it to. They couldn’t all have been suicidal. And, by the sound of it, Audrey wasn’t – she hadn’t chosen his path, had she? He’d taken it upon himself to shove her down it, for whatever private gratification he was going to get. And how had he felt, when he’d realised I hadn’t transformed at all? When there hadn’t been a news report about me? When he’d realised that I’d escaped? Had he been pissed off, cross, upset?
And how would he feel if he saw me again? Would he even recognise me?
‘If he comes out…’ I said out loud, and then didn’t finish my sentence.
‘If he comes out what?’
‘I want to talk to him.’
Sam looked at me, alarmed. ‘What? No. I don’t think so.’
I turned to him, trying to make sure I had his full attention. ‘I’ve got an idea, Sam. I know how we can find Audrey.’
‘How?’
‘He can take me to her.’
‘What? What do you mean?’
I hesitated, wondering whether to tell him, what he would say if I did. And in that moment’s hesitation the chance passed, because Colin Friedland came out of his house and shut the front door firmly behind him. He got into a dark blue Fiesta which was parked on the driveway and reversed out into the road.
Sam had already started the engine. He waited until the Fiesta got to the end of the road and helpfully indicated left towards the town centre, and pulled out to follow.
‘Don’t start,’ he said, even though I’d said nothing. ‘I just want to see where he goes. Alright?’
‘That’s fine,’ I said.
‘Really?’
Once we were on the main road, a white van was between us and the Fiesta. We slowed down at the lights and I could just about see the side of the car, and Colin’s wing mirror.