In Focus (2009) Read online

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  This first world edition published 2009

  in Great Britain and 2010 in the USA by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.

  Copyright © 2009 by Anna Jacobs.

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Jacobs, Anna.

  In Focus.

  1. Television personalities – Fiction. 2. Missing

  children – Fiction. 3. Adoptees – Fiction. 4. Love stories.

  I. Title

  823.9′14-dc22

  978-1-78010-036-4 (ePub)

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-6807-7 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-194-2 (trade paper)

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Epilogue

  This book is for Donna Hay of Western Australia, who’s been a dear friend for more years than we both care to remember.

  Prologue

  It seemed a day like any other. Beth Harding got up at six o’clock and stared out of the window. Another grey London day. Would spring never come? She made a mug of tea and went to check her emails before work. Living alone meant she could do as she pleased in the mornings.

  Today there was an email from someone called ‘lostgirl’. She nearly deleted it, then previewed it and choked on a mouthful of tea.

  Hi, Mum

  I’m all right. I know you’ve been worrying but I had to get my head together. Give my love to Gran.

  Jo

  PS In case you think this is a joke, I still remember my dog, Libby.

  Beth read it again, printed it out and carried the piece of paper into the kitchen, pressing it against her cheek as if that would bring her closer to the daughter who had run away from home at the tender age of sixteen. She’d heard nothing from Jo since.

  Three whole years of worrying!

  Tears welled in her eyes and everything around her turned into a blur. Suddenly she was sobbing, a harsh ragged sound that seemed to echo through the flat.

  By the time she’d calmed down a little, the message she’d printed out was bubbled and blotched with her tears.

  Her daughter was alive! Alive!

  Until this moment Beth hadn’t even known that, though she’d hoped. You had to hope. Three years ago Jo had gone out one day and not returned. She’d taken a few of her possessions, but left most of them behind. The police investigations had got nowhere and none of Jo’s friends had seen or heard from her since.

  Beth’s marriage had broken up the year before Jo vanished, but Shane had joined her in night watches for their daughter, searching places where down-and-outs congregated, visiting hostels. They had both been desperate for anything that might give them a clue, anything at all. They’d even forgotten their differences and grown to be almost friends again.

  Shane now lived in Canada, was married to a much younger woman and had two young children. Beth was still on her own and at forty-three she had no intention of risking another relationship.

  As she made a second mug of tea, she murmured her daughter’s name like a mantra. ‘Jo, Jo.’ More tears welled in her eyes, leaving cool trails down her cheeks. It was wonderful news, but painful. She didn’t doubt that the email was genuine because of the dog’s name. Jo had loved that dog, been desolate when Libby died.

  Beth hadn’t realized how passionate teenage rebellion could be, because she’d never been free to rebel, had always had to be sensible. Maybe she should have gone a bit easier on Jo after the divorce. Or maybe not. She could live with an untidy home, but not a dirty one. And though she could also live with Jo being sexually active from an early age, however much she disapproved, she didn’t want a series of randy young guys bedding down in her flat. She’d freaked out the first time she bumped into a strange man in the corridor. She and Jo had had the first of their bad quarrels over that.

  She sighed. What use was there in agonizing over the past? It was another country. She wasn’t sure who had said that, but it fitted her situation.

  Although she knew the email off by heart, she read it again anyway. The message was painfully short. There was no clue as to where her daughter was, or if she was ever coming back.

  She’d thought it would be enough simply to know Jo was alive, but it wasn’t. She ached to see her only child again, be with her.

  After a quick check of the time, she rang Shane. He’d not received an email from their daughter, but he sobbed at the other end of the line when she told him Jo was still alive.

  One

  Two years later

  Normally the six-storey building was deserted when the cleaning team came in, but Beth was surprised to see lights at one end of the top floor even though it was ten o’clock at night. She waited in the basement car park, only getting out of her car when the two other cleaners arrived, because she always felt nervous if she had to be out alone late at night.

  One of them greeted her with a friendly grin. ‘Hi, boss! Coming to keep an eye on us, are you?’

  Beth smiled back. ‘Pam couldn’t make it tonight and all my relief staff are busy.’ She occasionally filled in when someone called in sick. It kept her in touch with her staff and
she knew they respected her for not being afraid to get her hands dirty. ‘Which floors shall I take?’

  ‘Pam always did the top two.’

  They walked in together, setting more lights blazing.

  On the sixth floor, Beth checked the large, cluttered room in the small corner suite belonging to the IT company Aldeb, since this was where she’d seen lights. It had even more computers and pieces of equipment crammed in than last time she’d been here. The two young owners, Al and Debbie, were hunched over their computers to one side. A guy in a suit was sitting in the corner, drumming his fingers on the desk and looking bored.

  The woman turned to smile at Beth. ‘Sorry. We’ve got a glitch in the new program and we’re still trying to sort it out. Can you clean round us? We don’t mind the noise and it won’t hurt to leave a few metres of floor untouched for one night.’

  ‘No worries. I’m doing the top two floors, so I can start on the fifth and come up here last.’

  Just as she was about to tackle their part of the sixth floor, she heard a yell of triumph from the corner and turned to smile at the joyful faces.

  The woman beckoned to her. ‘We think we’ve fixed it but we need to test it out. Would you mind helping us? It’ll only take a few minutes.’

  ‘I’m no expert on computers.’

  ‘We don’t need your expertise; we need your face.’ She chuckled at Beth’s puzzlement. ‘This program turns older faces back to children’s, or vice versa – and it can be about eighty per cent accurate, as far as we can work out, unless someone’s had plastic surgery, of course.’ She brandished a camera. ‘If we take a photo of you and turn it into you as a child, you’ll know whether it’s a good likeness, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Beth had intended to refuse because she was exhausted, but was intrigued by the idea. ‘Oh, OK. But we usually go out to our cars together for security reasons and the others won’t want to hang around after their shift is over. Could one of you walk me out to my car afterwards?’

  The man in the corner spoke. ‘I’ll do that.’

  She studied him: tall and looked a capable sort. Yes, she’d feel safe with him. ‘Thanks.’

  They photographed her and asked her a couple of questions about herself as a child.

  ‘I had blonde hair, a little lighter than now, and I was scrawny.’

  As they fiddled around with the computer, the man sitting by the window continued to watch. He was good-looking in a quiet way, wearing a smart business suit with his tie loosened. The other two were dressed extremely casually, and the younger man had dreadlocks tied in a bunch at the back of his head.

  Beth was suddenly conscious that it was the end of a long, hard day. What a time to have a photo taken! She must look a real mess. Then she shrugged. As if that mattered!

  But when she sneaked a look at her reflection in the big glass windows, she realized she looked haggard as well as untidy. And for the first time in ages, that did matter, for some reason.

  Edward watched the woman lean against a cupboard and study the two programmers. She was gaunt, looked weary and her clothes were crumpled beneath the cleaning company overall. He’d not have given her a second glance if it hadn’t been for her eyes: big, brown and surprisingly beautiful in a face that was bleached bone-white with exhaustion.

  He was tired too. Managing his celebrity cousin wasn’t the easiest job on earth, though it did pay well and – just as important to him – led him into some interesting experiences. This wasn’t one of them. He’d been marking time here all evening while Al and Debbie fiddled around with their computers.

  He’d read the newspaper from cover to cover, done the crossword, grimaced at the foul taste of coffee from the machine in the corridor and settled for chilled water from the dispenser. He didn’t want to get on his mobile phone and chat to anyone, or even go on the Internet. Given a choice, he’d be sound asleep in bed by now, and was hoping these two would get the problem sorted out soon.

  If their software didn’t have potential for a new segment on Pete’s show, he’d have gone home hours ago and left them to it, but it did. And once his cousin got word of something promising, he didn’t let go. Trouble was, Pete sometimes went overboard over unsuitable ideas, so Edward always checked them out and made sure his cousin didn’t rush into things he’d regret. This more cautious approach had saved the show from a couple of major problems in the past year or two.

  He moved his body again, trying in vain to get comfortable in a typing chair designed for a midget, and ran his fingers through his hair, deciding it was too long and needed trimming.

  Then Al and Debbie got the woman’s photo up on the screen and he forgot his discomfort, leaning forward to watch what happened.

  Beth looked at her image in dismay. She looked far worse than she’d expected. Well, anyone would be tired if they’d been working since five o’clock that morning, first doing the early shift at the office, then filling in for people this evening. The current flu virus had hit the cleaning company badly.

  She watched what was happening, not really believing they could get close to what she’d looked like as a child.

  ‘Here, sit down. You look tired out.’

  She looked up in surprise as the man from the corner rolled a chair towards her. ‘Thanks. It’s been a long day.’

  ‘I don’t think Debbie and Al will be long.’

  Then the program started to change her face and they both turned to watch. Amazed, she saw herself morph into a teenager.

  When the lines of pixels had stopped rippling and changing, Debbie turned round. ‘Well? Does it look like you at about fifteen?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How like you?’ Al prompted.

  ‘Very. I wore my hair long, though, tied back.’

  They adjusted the image. ‘How’s that?’

  ‘Amazing.’

  ‘Give me a percentage.’

  ‘Ninety per cent at least.’

  Al punched the air with one fist and turned back to the keyboard.

  ‘You’re sure of that?’ the man in the suit asked.

  She was surprised by the intensity of his gaze. ‘Of course I am. I should know my own face.’

  Gradually the image changed again, this time turning her into a child.

  ‘Hair?’ Debbie asked.

  ‘Short, just below my ears, parted on the right.’ She watched them adjust that, then sucked in her breath in astonishment. This could have been one of the old family photos. She realized all three of them were looking at her enquiringly, waiting for her reaction, and made an effort to gather her wandering thoughts.

  ‘Well?’ Al prompted.

  ‘I can’t believe it. That’s so like me as a child. How do you do it?’

  The young woman ignored the question. ‘How close is it this time?’

  ‘Ninety per cent again.’

  Debbie beamed at her. ‘We daren’t claim that, of course, because it doesn’t always happen. But sometimes it can be amazingly accurate, as long as we don’t try to make the images too detailed. It’s a fine line to tread.’

  ‘Do you want to see what you’ll be like when you’re sixty?’ Al asked.

  Beth shuddered. ‘No, thanks.’

  Debbie chuckled and dug Al in the ribs. ‘Not many women would want to see that, you dope.’

  ‘What do you use a program like this for?’

  The man in the suit cut across what Al had been going to say. ‘That’s confidential information, I’m afraid.’

  The younger man rolled his eyes at her.

  ‘Well, your program works brilliantly.’ She glanced once more at the screen, shaking her head in disbelief.

  ‘How old were you then?’

  ‘About six.’ She closed her eyes for a moment as memories flooded back. Not a good year, that. Her little brother had vanished while on holiday, kidnapped or murdered, or else he’d simply wandered away and fallen into the sea. Her mother had been distraught.

  Afterwards Be
th had been passed from one relative to another for months while the police searched desperately for little Greg and her father nursed her mother through a breakdown.

  But there had been no further sign of the child, no ransom notes, no body, nothing. It was as if the boy had simply vanished off the face of the earth a week before his third birthday.

  The family had never settled down again. Her father and mother had started arguing a lot. She’d known, even though they tried to keep their voices low. You couldn’t mistake that tone of voice. In the end, her father had left and hadn’t come back. He had a new family now, living in the north of England. She saw him sometimes, but they weren’t close. She was much closer to her mother, had had to be because without her support, her mother might have collapsed again.

  Beth pushed the painful memories away and forced her tired, aching body upright. No way was she going down into that dark basement car park on her own. She looked at the man in the suit. ‘Well, if that’s all you need me for, I’ll go home to bed.’

  ‘Have you much more to do to the program?’ he asked the two at the computers.

  ‘Two or three hours of fiddling, probably.’

  ‘Then I’ll come back tomorrow. Give me a ring when you’re ready to roll again. I’ll need to see a few more successful regressions before we take it any further.’ He turned to Beth. ‘I’ll walk you to your car. Here, let me carry that.’

  ‘I can manage.’

  He ignored her and took the cleaning equipment out of her hands. Clearly, the masterful type, but with beautiful manners.

  As they stood waiting for the lift, he said, ‘We haven’t been introduced. I’m Edward Newbury.’

  ‘Same surname as the talk show host,’ she said without thinking. Pete Newbury had hit the headlines several times lately.

  ‘He’s my cousin, actually. Do you watch his show?’

  ‘Not often. In Focus was on a bit early in the evening for me last season. I’m usually busy at that time of day.’

  ‘And you’re . . .?’

  ‘Beth Harding.’ She didn’t give him any further information about herself. What was the point? They’d probably never meet again.