Free Stolen by Rebecca Muddiman Page A

Jen through to the kitchen.
    Abby glanced around, looking for something to do. She picked up the cold cup of tea and poured it down the sink. ‘Tea?’ She stared down at the bowl in the sink, still showing traces of the banana Beth had eaten yesterday morning. She ran her finger over the edge of the bowl. She felt Jen come and take her by the elbow, guiding her to the kitchen table.
    ‘I’ll do it,’ Jen said. Abby took a seat and laid her palms flat on the patchwork tablecloth to stop them from shaking. Jen didn’t say anything and the only noises were from the filling and boiling of the kettle, the cups being dragged from cupboards and the scraping of spoons around the ceramic.
    When she finally took a seat next to Abby she took her friend’s hand. ‘How are you feeling?’ Abby looked into Jen’s eyes and gave a slight shake of her head. How could she describe how she was feeling? Jen shook her head. ‘Sorry, that was a stupid question.’
    Abby took a deep breath and made an attempt to smile. She knew if the circumstances were different and she was the one trying to provide comfort she would’ve opened with the same question, banal as it was.
    ‘I just can’t believe it. I keep thinking that it’s a mistake. That Beth’s fine, tucked up in bed and it’s someone else who’s...’ Abby bit at the loose skin on her lip. ‘I keep checking, going up and looking in her crib thinking she’ll suddenly appear but she doesn’t.’
    ‘I know,’ Jen said stroking Abby’s hand.
    Abby watched as Jen’s eyes filled with tears. She held back a sob and her friend squeezed her hand before letting go. She hadn’t told her friend what had happened to her. What those men had done. She couldn’t. She couldn’t say it out loud.
    ‘What have the police said?’
    Abby rubbed her hands over her face. ‘They have no idea. They thought that maybe someone just took her because she was alone, but if that was true they would’ve brought her back by now, wouldn’t they?’
    ‘I guess...’
    ‘No one has come forward. No one saw anything, or heard anything.’ Abby let her hands drop. ‘They’ll want to speak to you.’
    ‘I’ve spoken to them.’
    Abby paused. ‘When?’
    ‘Yesterday. This morning. They came by yesterday and told me what’d happened. Had a look around. Asked me loads of questions. I wanted to come by last night but...’ Jen said as she pushed her hair back behind her ear. ‘I spoke briefly to that detective, Garner?’
    ‘Gardner,’ Abby said.
    ‘Right. And then I went to the station this morning and spoke to someone else. A fat bloke?’ Abby shrugged. ‘Anyway, they just asked me how long I’d known you, what our relationship was like. They wanted to know who I told about you coming up yesterday.’
    ‘They asked me that too.’ Abby watched Jen, unsure whether to say what she was thinking.
    ‘What?’ Jen asked.
    ‘Did you tell anyone?’
    ‘No. Who would I tell?’
    Abby shrugged. 
    ‘So that’s it? No leads?’ Jen asked.
    ‘No. Not yet,’ Abby said folding her hands around her hot cup. The warmth felt good, it was such a relief to feel something else, something different to the pain. She rocked the cup and the tea swirled around making mini whirlpools. ‘Where were you yesterday when I called?’
    Jen froze with her cup midway between her mouth and the table. ‘Do I need a solicitor present?’ she said, smiling slightly.
    ‘Of course not, I just wondered where you went. I tried you on both phones.’
    ‘I went out to the shop for more milk and tea. Those bloody builders are drinking me out of house and home.’
    ‘Builders?’
    ‘Yeah.’ She looked at Abby, puzzled. ‘What? What’s wrong?’
    ‘Where are they from?’ Abby said.
    Jen shrugged. ‘Someone recommended them to me, I don’t know if they’re in the book.’
    ‘No. Where are they from? Are they local? Are they foreign?’
    ‘The boss is from London I think. I suppose that’s foreign.’ Abby just