I’d been lying here. The warm towel had cooled off and the mud on my skin had dried and cracked. The noise sounded like it was coming from the en suite shower room.
My heart was thumping in my chest as I approached the closed door, but taking my courage in both hands, I turned the bathroom door handle and flung open the door, a wave of hot steam engulfing me. I coughed as I fought my way across the misty bathroom to turn off the shower, getting half drenched in the process. Had Ulla come in and turned it on? But why hadn’t she woken me?
As the shower trickled and gurgled to a halt, I groped my way back to the door, my dripping hair plastered to my face, and felt for the light, which would activate the extractor fan and clear some of the steam.
I hit the switch and light flooded the shower room—and that’s when I saw it.
Written across the steamy mirror, in letters maybe six inches high, were the words STOP DIGGING.
Monday, 28 September
BBC News Website
Monday 28th September
MISSING BRITON LAURA BLACKLOCK: BODY FOUND BY DANISH FISHERMEN
Danish fishermen dredging in the North Sea off the coast of Norway have found the body of a woman.
Scotland Yard have been called in to assist the Norwegian police investigation into the discovery of a body, dredged up in the early hours of Monday morning by Danish fishermen, lending weight to speculation that the deceased may be missing British journalist Laura Blacklock (32), who disappeared last week while holidaying in Norway. A spokesperson for Scotland Yard confirmed that they have been called in to help with the investigation, but declined to comment on possible links to Ms. Blacklock’s disappearance.
Norwegian police said that the body was that of a young Caucasian woman, and that the process of confirming the woman’s identity was under way.
Laura Blacklock’s partner, Judah Lewis, when telephoned at his home in North London, refused to respond to the speculation, except to say that he was and is “devastated by Laura’s continued disappearance.”
- CHAPTER 17 -
For a second I couldn’t do anything. I just stood, staring at the dripping letters, my heart beating until I thought I would be sick. There was a strange roaring in my ears, and I could hear sobbing sounds, like a frightened animal—it was a horrible noise halfway between terror and pain and an odd, detached part of myself knew that the person making the sounds was me.
Then the room seemed to shift and the walls started to close in, and I realized I was having a panic attack, and was going to pass out unless I got myself somewhere safe. Half crawling, I lurched to the bed, where I lay, curled in the fetal position, trying to slow my breathing. I remembered what my CBT coach used to say: Calm conscious breathing, Lo, and progressive relaxation—one muscle at a time. Calm breathing . . . conscious relaxation. Calm . . . and conscious. Conscious . . . and . . . calm . . .
I hated him even then. It barely took the edge off the panic attack at the time, let alone now, when there really was something to panic about.
Calm . . . and conscious . . . I heard his light, smug tenor in my head and somehow the well-remembered fury anchored me, made me strong enough to slow my shallow, panicked breaths and, at last, to sit up, dragging my hands through my damp hair and look about me for a phone.
Sure enough, there was one on the counter, beside an empty pack of spa mud. My hands were shaking, and crusted with dried mud so that I could barely pick up the phone, let alone dial 0, but when I did, and I heard a Scandinavian-accented voice say, “Hallo, may I help you?” I did not speak, I just sat, my finger poised over the dial.
Then I put the phone down with a click.
The message was gone.
I could see the shower-room mirror from where I sat on the bed, and now that the shower was turned off and the extractor fan was running, the steam had all but disappeared. All you could see were a couple of runnels of water where the bottom of the two Is in DIGGING had been, and that was it.
Nilsson would never believe me.
When I had showered and dressed, I walked back along the corridor. I looked in as I passed the other two rooms,