Someone Like me (12 page)

I closed my eyes, thinking for a  moment, ‘When did Michael go to Belgium?’ I asked. ‘The exact date.’

‘That’s easy,’ she said, ‘it was my birthday. I was really upset that he missed my party. All my friends came and he wasn’t there.’

‘The date?’ I reminded her.

‘May 25th of course.
My fourteenth birthday.’

CHAPTER 22

That was the moment I knew I had to tell her. First I gave her a handkerchief and went into the café. In schoolgirl French I think I managed to order an orange juice and a glass of white wine. The woman pointed to the table which I took to mean she would bring the drinks outside and I went back to
Malika.

She looked more composed now. She was re-pinning her headscarf and managed a sort of smile. Next she picked up my phone and used it as a mirror, reapplying the smudged black kohl around her eyes.

‘Better?’ I asked. She nodded. The woman from the café came out at that moment carrying a tray and put our drinks, plus a tray of green olives down on the table. She tucked a piece of paper under the plate and went back inside.

‘I hope you’ve got enough money for that,’ she said. ‘Is that wine?’

I nodded. ‘I’ve got quite a few bad habits you’re going to find out about sooner or later.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I guessed as much.’

I took a sip of my wine, suddenly thinking of Mum. Had she left for New York yet? I had lost track of time. Maybe she was flying over Paris right now.

‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ I said, taking another gulp of my drink, pushing the
fat  green  olives away. ‘It’s about Michael but you absolutely have to be sworn  to  secrecy.’  She  nodded.  ‘I  mean it,’ I said. ‘It could have serious consequences otherwise.’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’ she asked.

So I told her everything. Different expressions flickered across her face as I told her what had happened since I had seen Michael on
Crimewatch
. At the first mention of the programme she sat very still. Eventually she spoke.

‘I won’t say anything because I absolutely know my father is innocent. He would never do anything like that. He may be a liar and a cheat but…’

‘It doesn’t sound too good when you put it like that,’ I joked.

‘…but he would never do such a terrible thing. And think about it. If he knew he was wanted in England why would he even think about moving back there? We have to find out what exactly he was doing. Why are you smiling? This isn’t a funny situation.’

‘I was just thinking how I had exactly the opposite reaction, but don’t forget when I saw him on TV I had only just found out that Mum had been in touch with him again. Now do you understand why I wanted to meet him? I have to know why he didn’t stay and speak to the police.’

‘
If
it was him.’

‘So what do we do now?’

‘Well, we need to find out exactly what he did that weekend. Why did he say he was in Belgium? Do you think Sara would know anything? That’s the first thing you can do, try and see what she knows.’ I remembered the photograph.  ‘I  also  have something else I need to show you.’

‘Tell me again about this boy Khaled. Do you think he is suspicious?’

‘He  did  lie  about where he was to Fiona but I don’t think that counts.’ Malika pulled a face. ‘I don’t mean his behaviour isn’t wrong but I think hiding the fact that he was two-timing Fiona was his main motivation. However, according to Mark he went somewhere that weekend and came back covered in mud. Where Miriam disappeared was very muddy but so are a lot of places. We need to find out where he went that evening and why he couldn’t even tell Mark.’

‘Did Mark know he had another girlfriend?’

I thought for a moment. ‘That’s a good point. I don’t know. If he did then there would be no reason not to tell him. I can find that out. Tess can ask him for me. The other thing about Michael is why did he leave the scene after finding the body? If, as you say, he is innocent, what did he not want the police to find out?’

Malika
bent down and took her laptop out of her bag, then set it down on the table. ‘Can you show me the
Crimewatch
footage? She opened the laptop lid, then shut it again quickly. ‘This is our father we are talking about – are we really doing the right thing?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Why are we doing this?’

‘I want to clear his name.’

‘And I want to find out the truth.’

‘You’re right,’ she said, ‘so let’s get on with it.’

We sat and watched the footage from the episode of
Crimewatch
which had turned my life upside down. I was holding my breath as it reached the moment where the photograph was shown, suddenly convinced I’d been mistaken all along. Malika gasped when she saw it, her hand flying to her mouth. She turned to me, panic in her eyes.

‘It really is him! I was hoping that you were wrong but there is absolutely no doubt about that picture. Even with the beard.’

‘Let me show you something else I found,’ I said. I pulled out the photograph and handed it to her. ‘This was the first time I saw Sara,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t very pleased either, I’d wanted her to be horrid but she looks lovely. As she is, actually.’

Malika
was staring at the photograph. ‘Have you looked at this photograph since you came to Paris?’ she asked.

‘No, why?’

She held it out to me. ‘Because this isn’t my mother,’ she said. ‘Look closely, there’s a resemblance alright but I’d know this face anywhere. This woman is my aunt.’

The
colour was draining out of her face.

 
‘What’s the matter?’

 
‘This is my aunt, Nora, my mum’s sister.’ She pointed at the photograph and I noticed how her hands were shaking. ‘She is five years younger than my mother and she came to France from Morocco at the same time as my mother. They were very close and I know all about her, yet I have never met her. Nora disappeared before I was born.’

‘What do you mean disappeared?’

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Exactly that. She vanished. She didn’t turn up for work one day and has never  been  seen  since.  Maman  was  devastated,   the whole family were. The police looked into it but you know they say she is an adult, what can they do? Where did you get this?’

‘Gran had it. The nurse found it after Michael visited the care home. He must have dropped it. But at least it’s quite reasonable for Michael to have this picture.’ I was relieved.

‘No,’ she whispered, ‘it’s not  normal at  all.  Look  at this photo! You thought it was Maman. Nora looked much younger than this when she disappeared. This is a much more recent photo. Don’t you see? This means that she is still alive! I have to go and ask Papa where he got this!’

I grabbed her arm.

‘No! You can’t! If you let him know we’re suspicious about him he’ll be on his guard all the time. Please, Malika, don’t say anything, at least not for a while.’

She stared hard at the photograph, as if her gaze could bring it to life. When she looked up at me her eyelashes were wet with tears.

‘I can’t believe this. Maybe you’re right, maybe Papa isn’t so innocent after all.’

CHAPTER 23

‘There’s the fountain,’ Malika pointed to an old monument surrounded by tourists. It was just like the one at Piccadilly Circus. ‘The internet café is there, I’ll meet you back here in an hour, OK?’

I nodded. Ten minutes later I was logged onto my
email account. Tess had replied almost immediately to my last reply.

Hi Jas,

You won’t believe how antsy Khaled has got! He cornered me and made me promise not to tell anyone about Miriam. I said of course I wouldn’t (you don’t count and he doesn’t need to know that you know.) Mark said he seems really distracted in rehearsals, which is so out of character – he normally takes charge of the band. That girl Sadie’s brother has joined the band now; in fact his whole
family have gone on holiday to Ibiza and he persuaded his parents to let him stay home alone while they’re away – just so he can join the band. He’s a good keyboard player so Mark’s pretty pleased. Talking of Mark, he keeps asking about you!!! Is there something you’re not telling me?!! How’s it going in Paris? Have you been up the Eiffel Tower yet?

Details please ASAP!

Tess

So Sadie was on holiday. I pushed the thought away – Sadie was out of my life now – it was ironic that she was creeping onto the edges of our investigation.  I owed Tess a reply. I checked the time; I still had half an hour left, before I had to meet Malika back at the fountain.

Hi Tess,

Paris is not bad so far but I haven’t climbed any towers and have no intention of doing so! I have seen the Eiffel Tower and various other famous places but it is far more interesting where the hotel is. There are cafes everywhere and the traffic is crazy; people honk their horns ALL the time. Most people speak
English  luckily, I never was any good at French!

My family – where to start? It was very awkward with Michael at first but some of the things I have found out about what he did make it easier. His wife Sara is OK, she’s from Morocco originally, very pretty and nice so it’s hard not to like her. I know you will scream loudly when you read this but I have a sister! A real half-sister and she is a Muslim! Her name is
Malika and I am totally freaked out as you can imagine. We get on really well and I have told her EVERYTHING. She didn’t know about me either so there is a lot of family stuff going on and lots of slamming doors, but me and Malika are sticking together. I think she can help with the Crimewatch stuff. Gotta go,

Jas xxx

Ps Quit with the matchmaking, or else….

My time was up now so I logged off and went outside into the fresh air. Tourists strolled slowly down the cobbled street, different languages floating up into
the  air.  I  turned  right  and  made  my way back to the fountain.  Malika  was  lounging  against the wall, gazing into space, her brow furrowed in concentration. I went up and tapped her on the arm, making her jump.

‘Sorry,’ I said. She kissed me on both cheeks,
then gestured towards the river.

   ‘Let’s go this way.’ She linked her arm through mine as we walked slowly past little touristy shops, full of a million different versions of the Eiffel Tower.

‘I can’t get Nora out of my mind. I even dreamed about her last night.’

‘I thought you’d never met her?’

‘I didn’t, but Mum talked about her so much I always felt as if I knew her. She was very different to my mother. Mum is very serious and efficient. Nora was a bit wild. She totally rejected her religion at an early age and caused a bit of a scandal in the family by going out with a non-Muslim boy when she was about sixteen. Mum was close to her and used to pick up the pieces after her various crises. I don’t think Papa liked her, he thought she was unstable and relied on Maman too much.’

We walked for a while in silence.

‘Where are we going?’

‘I suppose we’re heading towards the hotel. Did you want to do something?’

‘I wouldn’t mind seeing that building you showed me the other day when we were at the top of the Pompidou Centre, the funny white one that looks like the sort of palace I read about in stories when I was little.’

‘Oh you mean
Sacre-Coeur! OK, let’s go. I need something to take my mind off everything. We can go on the metro, it’s quicker.’

We headed back towards the fountain and went down into the metro via a steep staircase.
Malika pulled a couple of tickets out of her back pocket and we went through the barrier and headed down towards the platform. There was a strange smell of musty eggs down by the tracks. I wrinkled my nose and Malika started laughing. It was different from the tube in London; you could see the passengers waiting on the other side of the platform for the train going the other way. A man was strumming a guitar with a dopey looking dog at his side. The track started vibrating and people edged forward as the noise of the approaching train filled the tunnel. A man standing near to the busker looked vaguely familiar. The busker stopped playing, stood up and handed a package to the man. The dog started barking as the noise of the train approaching filled the tunnel. Malika and I looked at one another in astonishment. The man was Michael.

‘Papa!’ shouted
Malika, before I could stop her. At that moment the train roared onto the platform in front of us, drowning out her voice. I grabbed her and we edged back towards the wall, as passengers around us pushed urgently onto the train. As the noise of the departing train filled the air I held my breath, willing the train to move out of the way. I hadn’t noticed the train arriving on the other side and when my vision was clear I finally released my breath, but it was too late. The platform opposite was empty.

chapter 24

‘Quick!’ shouted Malika and we rushed to the staircase on the side of the station and galloped up the stairs. She paused for a moment at the top then pointed to a sign saying ‘Porte de Clignancourt’ and raced towards it. She was fast and I cursed myself for wearing heels, they weren’t that high but I hadn’t anticipated racing around a tube station when I chose my clothes this morning. Malika’s boots were far better suited to the occasion. I couldn’t help running into her with a thump as she came to a sudden stop at the edge of the platform.

‘They won’t be here now,’ I gasped. ‘They must have got on the train.’ We both scanned the platform, which was slowly filling up with passengers again, but the busker and dog had gone. And there was definitely no sign of Michael.

‘Let’s go back upstairs,’ I suggested. ‘We don’t know for sure whether Michael got on the train.’

We retraced our steps,
Malika rooting around in her bag and pulling out her phone.

‘You have a quick look around,’ she said, ‘I’m making a call.’ I wandered up and down the platform, but I was convinced Michael had jumped on the train. 
Malika came back over to me. ‘That was Maman,’ she said. ‘I asked her where Papa was working today. She said he  had  a  meeting  out  of  town, he  won’t  be  back  until this evening. And he took the car.’

‘You didn’t say anything did you?’

‘Of course I didn’t! But what happened there? What is he up to?’

‘It was him, wasn’t it?

‘I think I’d know my own father,’ she said.

‘Well some of us aren’t so fortunate,’ I muttered.

‘Jasmine,’ she grabbed my arm, ‘you know I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m wondering who that man was.’

‘Well we’ll never know now will we.’

Malika
and I separated when we got back to the hotel. I thought she’d forgotten to tell me something when there was a knock at my door. I was surprised to see Sara standing outside.

‘Can I talk to you?’ she asked. Her smile was warm, so like
Malika’s.  She followed me into the room and sat down at the desk. ‘I thought we should get to know one another. You are my husband’s daughter after all and my own daughter is very fond of you already, I can tell. Are you missing your mother?’

I shook my head. ‘Mum’s got a very high-powered job. She works long hours.’ A picture of Mum sprang into my head, glass of wine in hand, talking to Clare on the phone. ‘Even when she gets home from work, which is late, she carries on working. I don’t mind, though,’ I added, ‘we get on great. Do you have a big family?’

‘My  parents  live  in Morocco and I have two sisters and two brothers.’

‘In France?’
I asked.

She looked sad. ‘My brother Ali lives in Lille. My little sister also used to live there too, but I don’t see
her  any  more.  She  went  missing  a  few  years ago and we never found out what happened to her.’

‘That’s terrible. Are you still looking for her?’

She smiled sadly. ‘Every time I go out of the house I am scanning the streets with my eyes to see if I can see her, I refuse to believe I will never see her again.’

‘That’s how I felt about my dad when I was little,’ I said quietly, ‘I always expected him to call me, or send me a card on my birthday. Every night when I got home from school I waited.’

‘I understand.’ She patted my hand and I didn’t mind. ‘It’s the not knowing that is so hard. If I knew she had chosen to leave us and she was OK then I could let it go, but…’ at that moment Malika pushed the door open.

‘Can I come in?’ She stood behind her mum and put her arms around her neck. ‘What are you two talking about?’ she asked.

‘I was just telling Jasmine about Aunty Nora.’ Jasmine looked at me in alarm over her mother’s head. I shook my head very slightly. She relaxed.

‘Have you heard from Papa today?’ she asked, sitting down on the bed.

‘He rang this afternoon and said the meeting was going well.’ she laughed. ‘We’re all going out for dinner later.’

‘I’d better have a shower then,’ I said.

‘Come on, Malika, let’s give Jasmine a bit of peace.’

I pulled the photo of Nora out of the zipped pocket in my bag and studied the pretty face. What had happened to her? I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes. Moments later I was asleep,
Malika, Sara and Michael were running around the Paris metro in my dreams, while I tried desperately to keep up with them, a dog snapping at my heels.

A hand was on my shoulder, shaking me. I opened my eyes.

‘It’s time to eat,’ said Malika.

Sara and Michael were waiting outside their room. As we listened to the grinding sound of the lift approaching, my nose started itching. I sneezed loudly.

‘Oh no,’ I groaned. ‘I always sneeze at least five times and I haven’t got a tissue.’

‘Take this,’ said Sara, handing me the passkey to her room. ‘There’s a pack on the table.’ A loud ping announced the arrival of the lift. ‘We’ll wait for you downstairs.’

I let myself into the room and spotted the tissues straight away on the table. I sneezed four times. As I blew my nose loudly I noticed Michael’s battered leather case by the side of the bed. An image of the man holding the case on the station platform flashed through my head. Without stopping to think, I unclasped the catch and opened the case. My hands trembled slightly as I saw the package straight away. This had to be it! It was a large padded envelope. It had been opened already and I put my trembling hand in and pulled out a few sheets of papers. I glanced at the door, but the corridor was silent. I had to be quick.

   The documents were in French. I pulled out my phone and took close-up shots of each piece of paper on both sides. I shoved the envelope back in the case, grabbed the rest of the tissues and ran out into the corridor.

They were standing in the foyer, and Michael stepped forward when he saw me, as if to give me a hug but I swerved him.

‘Sorry I took so long, ‘I said.

Sara smiled. ‘
Malika always sneezes a hundred times too.’

‘How was your day in Paris?’ Michael asked. ‘Is
Malika looking after you?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘We saw someone who looked just like you on the platform at St Michel, Papa,’ said Malika, ‘talking to a busker.’ I watched Michael carefully. Surprise flickered across his face, before he quickly turned his head away.

‘A lookalike!’ he said. ‘I was out in the car today. Let’s go, we don’t want to miss our reservation at the restaurant.’

Malika looked at me. I could read the dismay in her eyes. I squeezed her arm as we walked behind Sara and Michael into the restaurant.