Diana felt John place a light kiss on the top of her head. She turned over to find him stood by the bed, adjusting his tie.
"What time did you get in?" She asked him, her voice tired and hoarse.
"Just after one. "
"What time is it?"
"Quarter to six."
"Ouch! Why so early? Do you want me to go and make you some breakfast?" Diana opened her eyes slowly and squinted in the glare of the artificial light.
"No, stay here in the warm. I'll grab something at the office. The trial run found a few last-minute coding errors that need to be fixed today."
"So I'll see you at dinner tonight?" Diana asked hopefully.
"We'll see. I'll call you as early as I can to let you know."
"Okay," she said, disappointment in her voice barely disguised. John had hardly been home the last few weeks. She didn't doubt that work was busy, after all, the new program his company was about to launch had taken months to fine tune. But his absence seemed to become more noticeable and prolonged since Hannah had moved in. It sometimes seemed to Diana like he didn't want to be around their daughter and that she couldn't fathom at all.
"Have a good day," he said, securing his cuff link. The bedside lamp was turned off and he left the room. Diana listened for the front door to close, then for the car engine to gurgle in to life and as the sound of the car faded into the distance, she lay staring up into the muddy darkness of the room. The luminous hands on the face of the alarm clock on the table next to John's side of the bed advanced slowly. It was close to six o'clock and already she felt the unrelenting burn. She sat up and rubbed at her throat. The wedding ring on her finger felt heavier today than normal. She'd never liked the ring. It was too bulky, with far too many diamonds than was good for one person. Lately, everything seemed to be weighing her down, or maybe that was just her guilt.
Diana sat for a further five minutes, trying not to do the one thing her body was willing her to... She told herself that she was over it. That all of this was just a temporary setback and it didn't mean anything. She tried to distract her thoughts by going over the list of errands she needed to run later in the day. But like the many times before, the burn got a little stronger. Whilst shaking her head at her own stupidity, she reached over and turned the bedside lamp on again. Leaning forward, she ran her hand behind the bedside table and touched at the recess behind it. Her fingers made contact with the cool glass. Wrapping them around the neck, she brought the bottle up onto the top of the bed covers and rotated the base of the bottle. The clear liquid lazily began to swirl about at the bottom and then began to roll and sweep up the sides. The need took over and Diana wrenched at the lid, twisting it off and brought it up to her lips. She took a large glug and the slow burn in her throat transformed into raging flames as the alcohol flooded into her mouth. She welcomed the fire as it moved down her body, seeming to temporarily fill the void. Diana closed her eyes, leant back against the head board and switched off.
"Mother." Diana heard someone calling out.
"Mother." This time the call was louder and much closer.
"Mother!" Diana jumped in fright and saw Edward standing at the foot of the bed, smirking down at her.
"What time is it?" She asked.
"Too early for that!" Edward pointed to the empty bottle lying on the floor beside her. "Does my father know you've taken up drinking again?"
"I am not drinking, Edward. I had a small glass before bedtime to help me sleep. You know I don't sleep well when your father's not here. There was hardly a drop in there. Anyway, what do you want at this hour?"
"It's nine am."
"What?" Diana stood up shakily, her legs feeling like they belonged to someone else.
"It's nine am, Maria has the morning off and I'm hungry."
"You could just make yourself something to eat," she suggested. Edward replied with a look.
"Okay, okay, I'll be down in a couple of minutes."
Edward tutted and left the room. Diana went to her wardrobe and grabbed some underwear and a grey jersey dress. In the bathroom, she winced from her penance of a cold shower; the icy water chastising her skin and blasting away at the fug inside her head. A few minutes late, hair tied up in a bun and more casually attired that normal, she left her room and went down to the kitchen.
"You look good," Edward sniggered.
Diana ignored him and took out a heavy-based pan from the cupboard. She then busied herself cooking pancakes, bacon and eggs. The simple task of preparing the food was a satisfying and welcome distraction and she wondered why she didn't cook more often. She was actually quite a good cook. Nothing special, just good, hearty food, but John had more sophisticated tastes and therefore Maria's haute cuisine was preferred.
Diana served the food onto three plates, her own portion consisting of a single poached egg white and a rasher of bacon. She took the plates over to the table. Edward snatched at his and proceeded to coat his food in butter and syrup. Diana brought over a jug of squeezed orange juice to the table, picking up the unopened mail that John had left on the counter top.
As Edward gorged himself on breakfast, a sight so ghastly it put Diana off her own food, she went through the mail. The first was an invitation to a dinner, the second being the bi-annual report from the local warden on their property and gardens.
The property and general garden area satisfies the required standards, however the length of the lawn was 3mm longer than the permitted length when viewed. You have therefore been given one demerit mark. Another visual inspection will be carried out in four weeks. A further demerit mark will result in a considerable fine being levied.
Diana carefully folded up the report and placed it back in the pile for John to deal with, knowing that poor Mr McCarthy, the gardener, wouldn't be getting paid this week.
The sight of the last letter made her palms clammy and her stomach begin to jitter, just like every letter she had ever received from the government. She wanted so very much not to open it, to throw it in the rubbish and pretend that she'd never received it. She carefully peeled back the flap, took out two pieces of white paper. She unfolded them and read the first.
Dear Parent.
Recently, your daughter, Hannah Page had her first SPR review. It is with great pleasure that we wish to inform you that Hannah achieved a score of one hundred. This puts her in the ...
Seeing Hannah's score written down, didn't bring her the joy she'd expected. All those years lost. Her perfect daughter, lost to her forever. Diana knew instinctively that even though they now lived in the same house, Hannah would never accept them as her family. Why should she? After all, they had given her up, tossed her aside like a piece of refuse. Diana looked over at Edward, the son they had quickly welcomed into their lives to fill the void. Her love for him was once immeasurable, but now it didn't feel like anywhere near enough. Not like how she felt about Hannah. Edward, oblivious to her scrutiny and his plate empty, reached over to Hannah's plate and speared the bacon with his fork.
"Edward! Leave that food alone, I made that for Hannah." She admonished. "In fact, I best go and wake her." Diana pushed her chair back and stood up.
"You'll be lucky." Edward replied, lifting the plate and scrapping the contents onto his own.
"What do you mean?"
"She's not here."
"Oh," Diana said, "did she leave early?"
"Nope!"
"Well then, where is she?"
"She never came home last night."
"Yes, she did. I saw her go up for the night."
"Yeah, but then she went back out."
"When?" Diana asked. Every muscle in her body seemed to tighten, her throat especially.
"Not long after I went up. She snuck out like some common thief. Have you checked your purse or your jewellery, mother?"
Diana sat down heavily in the chair.
"You're telling me your sister left the house last night, hasn't been seen since and you only telling me, now!" The tightness in Diana's voice, made her voice too high and too screechy.
Diana, reached across the counter and grabbed for her phone. She thumbed through till she found the number of the phone they had given Hannah. It went over to answer phone. She turned back to Edward who was now filling his face with her daughter's breakfast.
"Don't you even care," she shouted.
"Nope!"
"You stupid, selfish, self- centred boy!" Diana spat at him. "Have you any idea of the risk to Hannah's life? She is a one-hundred," Diana said, throwing the SPR letter at Edward. "A hundred! She's unique, Edward and she's in grave danger, especially when they find out her score."
Edward scanned the letter and then looked his mother straight in the eye.
"I am glad she's gone, I hope she never, ever comes back." Edward tore the letter in two. "What about my score, mother? Don't you want to know what that is?" Edward said, spying the second piece of paper on the table.
"Right now, Edward," she replied as calmly as she could, "I am going to go and try and find Hannah. Your father and I will speak to you later about you attitude, young man."
"But..."
"But what, Edward?" Diana stood up. "Right now, Hannah is my priority, not you," she said and ran out of the kitchen, ignoring his calls.
In the hall, she put on some flat, black boots and grabbed her coat, and threw her phone into her bag. She retrieved her keys from the glass bowl on the table by the door and stormed out of the front door. In her car, a sleek black coupe, she took out her phone and dialled the first person she thought of, Scott. The call went straight to his answer phone.
"Agent Scott. Hannah is gone. She left last night and hasn't been seen since. Please help me find her. I'm now coming to the Council office." Diana started the engine and then shot off down the driveway. Halted at the top of the drive, she waited as the two heavy gates parted frustratingly slowly. Once open, she floored the accelerator pedal, the torque of hers tyres struggling against the gravelled surface, leaving a burnt rubber smell behind her.
"You don't understand, I need to see Agent Scott, now!" Diana yelled out to receptionist at the front desk, all sense of decorum long since forgotten about.
"As I said, according to my screen, Agent Scott isn't available at the moment. If you wish to leave a message, I will be happy to pass one on for you." The receptionist's badge said her name was Jenny and beneath that, the words, Trainee.
"You're not listening to me. My daughter is missing and I need help." Diana looked at the emotionless receptionist and felt like slapping her. Why wouldn't this woman help her? "Ok, then get me, Mr Matheson instead."
The receptionist typed on her keyboard and then checked her screen, her brow furrowing as she read.
"I'm afraid, Mr Matheson is also...unavailable right now."
"No, no, this is just not good enough."
"Madam, teenage girls, have a mind of their own. I'm sure if you go home now, she will be sat there oblivious to your distress, having spent the night at some boys."
"My daughter is not like that! Someone has taken her, I know it."
"Madam, why would someone want to take your daughter? Please you must calm down, or I will have to ask you to leave."
"I will not calm down, Madam," Diana replied. "My daughter is Hannah Page and she is grave danger. Let me see General Briggs then."
The receptionist laughed in response. "No, Madam, I am very much afraid that I cannot arrange for you to speak to General Briggs." The receptionist pressed a button and two security guards walked over.
"Could you please escort Mrs Page from the building. She is not to return."
The two guards turned to Diana and one spoke in a calm tone, "please miss, this way."
"You're making a huge mistake. When General Briggs finds out about this your heads will roll!"
The guard that had spoken, took hold of Diana's right arm and the other guard clasped her left. They then pulled her to the door and gently extracted her from the building.
Diana stood alone at the top of the stone steps. Deep in her heart she felt Hannah was in trouble. She tried calling Scott again, then Zeke's number. On the third attempt she dialled John's number and was met by his voicemail as well. She ended the call without leaving a message, remembering his phone was probably stowed away in a locker somewhere, given that portable devices were banned from his offices due to security regulations.
Racking her brain for what to do next, she tried to think of anyone who might be willing to help her. One name finally came to her. She didn't have a number for him, but she had memorised his address. The same address, Hannah had lived at for most of her life. With a clear destination in mind, Diana set off at speed for the home of Dan and Lynne Green, praying that they would be able to help.