The Years Between

James had agreed to give Emma five minutes. They were already in the kitchen. James introduced his mother, Nora, who stood beside the window. He stayed nearby, clearly unwilling to leave a journalist alone with the conversation.

Nora was looking at the garden, but Emma had the feeling that she was thinking about something far away.

“People came to ask questions after Claire disappeared,” Nora said. “Police officers. Journalists. People who knew her. I told them what I thought was important.”

“And now?” Emma asked.

Nora turned round. “Now I think I left something out.”

Emma took a small notebook from her bag. She did not open it yet.

“You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to,” she said. “But I'd like to know what you remember.”

Nora sat at the table. Her hands rested on a folded tea towel.

“It was the evening Claire went away,” she began. “I was walking home. The road was quiet. I saw her near a car.”

Emma waited.

“I knew it was Claire. I had known her for years. She was carrying a bag.”

“Did you see someone force her into the car?”

“No.” Nora answered quickly, then looked down. “That's not what I saw.”

“What did you see?”

“Claire opened the door herself. She got in. The car drove away.”

For a moment, Emma could hear only the clock above the sink.

“What did you tell the police?”

“I did say I'd seen her that evening. But I didn't explain it clearly. Later, everyone was talking about an accident, or someone taking her. I wasn't sure what my little story meant.”

“Did Claire look frightened?” Emma asked.

“I don't know. I wasn't close enough to see her face properly.”

“Then we can't say she wanted to leave.”

Nora looked relieved. “That's what I've been trying to explain to myself for fifteen years. Getting into a car is not the same as having a choice.”

Emma finally opened her notebook. She wrote down Nora's words carefully. She also wrote memory after fifteen years beneath them.

“Is there anything else you're certain about?” she asked.

“Only that I saw her get in,” Nora said. “I remember that because she opened the door before anyone came out to help her.”

Emma closed her notebook. This was important, but it did not solve the mystery. Claire might have planned to leave. She might have been scared. Both ideas were still possible.

Nora looked at her. “You won't write that she left happily, will you?”

“No,” Emma said. “I'll write what you saw. Nothing more.”