CHAPTER 33
CERYS
I wake in the night sweating, confused at where I am; and when I catch up to the reality, the nausea grips me. Hotel room. Italy. Every night since Ella was taken, this happens. Liam always wakes and holds me, stroking my hair in an attempt to soothe but I can’t stay in bed.
I let Ella down.
The painful hole in my heart gets bigger every day she isn’t in my life. Does Ella think I don’t care? What has Craig said? Has he told her I don’t want her?
I dreamt of coming to Rome years ago, fascinated by Italy when I saw pictures in encyclopaedias and holiday brochures. When I was young and stupid, or stupider than I am now, I wanted to bring Ella to show her the Italian roots that gave her glossy brown hair and olive skin. Craig stuck with holidays to Greece, saying Italy was too expensive. His connections to his roots were non-existent, although now it seems they’re there when he needs them.
How do people cope without the money and resources I have through Liam? Within hours, we discovered he recently applied for an Italian passport for himself, and is travelling on that. A breadcrumb trail leads to Italy then ends. We discovered his grandparents’ address but he isn’t there. Liam has organised private investigators to search the country for any sign of him. If Craig came to Italy, I don’t believe he’ll leave again, or will be able to without being detected.
Craig didn’t plan this properly; otherwise, he’d have covered the tracks leading us to Italy. Somebody Craig knows must be helping him because he’s not using his credit cards or bank accounts. I’m unsure whether the methods Liam’s using to find Craig are entirely legal, but then what Craig is doing isn’t either. I don’t care as long as I get Ella back.
The only positive thing I hold in the middle of this living hell is that he’s fucked up any custody chances now.
Based in a hotel in the centre of Rome, Liam attempts get me to visit the local sites to stop me sitting in the room all day waiting for news. I won’t leave. Everything around is occurring on the periphery of reality; I may as well be in a dream. After no news about Ella or the investigation for two weeks, Liam’s going stir crazy with my refusal to leave the hotel. His calm nature can only stretch so far; and when I get growly and he gets grumpy, we head out.
We return after less than an hour. Within minutes, a couple with a little girl around Ella’s age wanders by happy, on holiday. The fragile walls I’ve built against the outside world are smashed to the ground. Holding in the hurt means holding in the tears because once I let go, I can’t stop. The pain in Liam’s eyes grows when I do, so I barricade as much inside as I can. The only way to keep strong is to keep away from anything that reminds me of Ella.
How is that possible? I’ve lived and breathed for her for over five years. She is my world. What angers me is Craig’s action demonstrates he doesn’t care for her; he’s neglecting her emotional needs and treating her like a possession.
Liam spent this afternoon on the phone to his lawyers again. I also heard a hushed conversation with somebody, possibly his manager, about how he can’t return to the UK or the States yet. Liam has paused his life for us and the depth of the love this man has for me and Ella is insurmountable.
As each day passes, I imagine Craig another step away and further hidden. He’s smarter than I gave him credit for. But what can he do? His life isn’t in Italy; his spoken Italian is average at best. Why do this? I didn’t once prevent him from seeing Ella; I was prepared to be reasonable. I hate myself for refusing to let him take Ella overnight; is this the reason why? Or would that have made it easier for Craig to take her and sooner?
Managing to stop myself vomiting for the first time in days, I creep out of bed so I don’t wake Liam. In the other end of the suite, I fire up my laptop then scroll through the latest messages on a chat board I’ve joined. This group for people with abducted children has members whose situations are worse than mine.
“Cerys.” Liam places a hand on my shoulder and I startle. “I told you not to go on that site; it upsets you.”
He stands next to me in his black briefs, hair mussed from sleep. His tired face demonstrates the effect this is having on him too. I close the lid.
“It helps,” I say.
“No, it doesn’t. You feed your mind with horror stories.”
The sun pushes through gaps in the heavy curtains of the hotel suite, the sound of birds welcoming another day where I have no idea where my daughter is. I flinch as Liam holds me because every time he does, I think how I should hold Ella. When he kisses me good night, it’s the same because I want to scream ‘why can’t I kiss my daughter good night’?
“Cerys, eat something today.”
I shake my head, tears springing again. I don’t deserve to feel okay; I’m a bad mother letting this happen to her. “I can’t keep anything down.”
“You need to have energy for when we find her.”
“When will that be, Liam? Two weeks and we’re no closer.” Foolishly, I believed Liam could help me find her straightaway, deluded myself into thinking Craig was too stupid to hide properly.
“I think there’s a new lead.” He strokes my face. “Don’t get mad, I didn’t say anything last night in case you tried to bundle me into the car at 2 a.m.”
“What? What is it? Have they found her?” I stand. I need to get dressed. Packed. “Is she in Italy?”
Liam leans over me and twists the laptop toward him. “I’m waiting for photos.”
The unread email in the inbox contains picture files, and my heart stops beating, for every second it takes for them to appear on screen. I squint at them, grainy pictures of a dark-haired girl and a man around Craig’s build.
“I don’t know! How am I supposed to tell from that?” I say, pushing back the chair and storming away.
Liam follows. “I know, but we can still go? It’s a couple of hours drive from here.”
“But what if we go there and it isn’t her? And in the meantime we miss something here?” I rub my arms, the familiar throb aching my head.
“And what if it is her and he’s gone tomorrow?” asks Liam gently.
But he isn’t gentle Liam. He doesn’t know how I’ve seen his barely contained anger focused on walls, cupboard doors, and shouted phone calls when he thinks I’m asleep at the opposite end of the suite.
I worry what will happen to Craig when we see him.