Every Missing Thing by Martyn Ford

Author:Martyn Ford [Ford, Martyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781542023788
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2020-09-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Watching from a camera on the side table, deep within the plastic casing of an alarm clock, we see room twenty-one. We see Anna. Her suitcase on the floor. The closed curtains. The neat bed. She’s sitting on a chair in the corner, still wearing the same clothes, still unable to settle. Frowning, she looks down into her mobile. As she reads from the screen, she pulls on the blonde curls hanging at the side of her face – three short tugs. Then she rubs her leg, which bounces up and down as though she’s repeatedly pumping a pedal with her heel. Alone, these twitches are at their most severe.

There’s a gentle tapping sound and she composes herself, wipes her face with her hand, then stands. She steps past, disappearing from view. We hear the door.

She returns with a man carrying a black rucksack – he places it on the bed and hugs her. His lower half fills the frame as they hold one another in silence for almost a minute.

Sniffing, gasping as she releases him, Anna descends back into her seat. The man then sits on the edge of the mattress, to her left, our right. When he glances around the room, and we see his face, we recognise him as Daniel Aiden. We see his tanned skin, his thin metal glasses, his dark hair, well-groomed – grey above the ears. He’s wearing a loose, informal blue shirt and beige chinos. Although no stranger to the screen, usually he knows he’s being filmed. Today, he’s not presenting anything beyond his private self.

‘I got a message from Paula, at the foundation,’ Anna says. ‘She’s resigning.’

Daniel shakes his head. ‘Why?’

‘Apparently someone who’s about to be charged with murder isn’t the best president.’

‘No, I mean, why is she contacting you about it?’

‘Courtesy I guess – she’d been considering it for a while, the issue of the missing funds and so on.’ Anna shrugs. ‘She thought I should know before they go public.’

‘So that’s it, the Clarke Foundation is dead?’

‘There are other charities waiting in the wings – the kids we’re helping will be fine. Change of branding more than anything else.’

‘Are you OK about that?’

‘Why the fuck would I care?’

‘No, yeah, of course.’ Daniel touches her knee. ‘Have you seen Francis, since . . . ?’

‘I spoke to him on the phone.’

‘How is he?’

‘Not well.’ She tugs on her hair three times, then rubs her jeans.

‘Have you . . . have you thought more about . . .?’

Anna presses her fingertips into her forehead. ‘He is many things . . . but he’s not a murderer.’

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