‘I just know something’s happened,’ I say, my voice shaking. ‘She isn’t the kind of person to disappear like this. Not unless something really bad has happened.’
Reza sighs. ‘Do you know how many people go missing each year?’
I shake my head.
‘Ten thousand people. Just in Europe.’
‘Wow,’ I mumble. How is that possible? Where do they all go?
‘And eight hundred thousand children go missing every year. Total.’
My jaw drops open. That’s a truly astonishing number. ‘I had no idea,’ I mumble.
She points at a board behind me on the wall of the waiting area. One side is covered in missing posters. I walk over to it. There are dozens and dozens of posters. I scan all the faces – mostly teenagers and young women. Where are they all? Where do they go? Are they dead? Are they runaways? Have they been trafficked? How can this many people just vanish into thin air?
Reza comes up behind me. She reaches past and tacks up another poster. I glance at it. The photo I emailed five minutes ago of Kate fills half the page and her name is printed underneath, along with her height and a description. A lump rises up my throat as I stare at Kate’s smiling face. It’s so surreal.
‘Is that all you’re going to do?’ I ask.
The woman looks at me, not unkindly, but a little wearily. ‘We will circulate her description. It’s all we can do. You said she has her phone and bag with her. Probably her passport also. She possibly has left the country by now, rented a car or left by train. She could be anywhere in Europe. If she tries to leave, the country border police will know. They’ll tell us. And if we hear anything we will let you know. Likewise, let us know if you find her.’
If. If. ‘But she left all her things,’ I protest. ‘Her suitcase. Her clothes. Why would she leave her stuff?’
‘OK,’ she says, ‘I’ll look into those two men.’
‘Good,’ I say, feeling a rush of relief. ‘Please call me if you find anything out.’
She nods but I’m uncertain if she’s saying this to get me to go away or if she really is going to take it seriously and look into Kate’s disappearance.
Shaken, I head outside to find Konstandin still smoking. ‘I need a cigarette,’ I say to him.
Wordlessly he hands me one and lights it for me.
‘They aren’t doing anything,’ I tell him, taking a huge inhalation of smoke. Instantly my head spins and I feel like I’m going to throw up.
‘What do you mean?’ Konstandin asks.
‘They just added her picture to a wall,’ I say. ‘But there are dozens, hundreds of missing people. They treated me like I was making a big drama. As though she’s decided to run away from her life, as though her going missing isn’t a big deal.’ I’m pacing up and down, drawing on the cigarette as though it’s feeding me life.
‘It isn’t a big deal for them,’ Konstandin says. ‘They won’t care unless there’s a body.’
‘What?’ I say, almost dropping my cigarette.
He shrugs, his expression cool. ‘She’s an adult. There’s no evidence she’s been hurt. She wasn’t depressed or mentally ill. Unless the police have an actual crime to investigate they won’t look for her.’
I shake my head, refusing to believe it. ‘How?’ I splutter. ‘How can they not care?’
Konstandin shrugs again. ‘Come,’ he says. ‘We have an appointment.’
‘What? Where?’ I ask him.
‘Emanuel called back. I’m meeting him for coffee in forty minutes’ time.’
Chapter Fifteen
Joaquim and Emanuel walk in, dressed casually, both wearing sunglasses, and my breath catches in my chest as though someone is twisting a corkscrew into the gap between my ribs. Seeing them in the flesh brings memories swimming to the surface: Joaquim putting me to bed, sliding off my shoes, his fingers brushing the back of my neck. As though I can feel the ghost of his hand still pressing there, a shiver runs down my spine. I thought I’d managed to convince myself that nothing happened between us but seeing him brings all the doubt and anxiety flooding back.
They don’t notice me when they walk in as I’m lurking at a corner table, holding the menu up to obscure my face. I peek over the top of it and watch Konstandin stand and wave them over. They shake hands with him, both of them smiling and chatty, trying to impress someone