Me and You - Claudia Carroll

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out and bought together is a big reminder. Not to mention the fact that Simon’s officially about to move in here. And they’re completely fab, one of those couples you point to and think, you see, YOU SEE? True love isn’t just excuse for weak rom-com vehicles tailored around Jennifer Aniston! It actually exists and is out there. And Kitty and Simon are living, walking proof! So there!

      He mimes a ‘sorry about this’ gesture at me and throws his eyes to heaven, like he’s been trying to get off this call for ages now and just can’t. Have to say, though, whoever he’s on to, he’s certainly doing a terrific job.

      ‘No,’ he’s saying calmly down phone, ‘as I’ve already explained, the last time I saw Kitty was early on the morning of the twenty-third, when she was leaving the house for work … Yes, yes, of course, we already tried that, that was the first thing we did, but no joy … Besides, you’re right, I think you’ve got to be missing for a minimum of three days before they’ll finally take you seriously … Though if it comes down to it by this evening, then rest assured, the police will certainly be my next port of call …’

      The police? Hang on a minute. Did he just say the police? Suddenly I’m panicky. I thought Simon of all people could fix this, could find Kitty and make it all go away! So if he’s now talking about going to the worse-than-useless cops, then my whole confidence base just spectacularly imploded. I throw him a sharp, horrified look, but he just makes a ‘calm down, it’s fine, relax’ hand gesture back at me.

      ‘No, she’s most definitely not with her foster mum in Limerick either, I’m afraid,’ he’s saying now. ‘I’ve just driven up from there, in fact. She hasn’t been down to see her in over a week …’

      Another eye-roll at me, though if he’s beginning to lose patience at the daftness of the questions he’s being asked, you’d never know by him. Simon’s always unfailingly polite.

      ‘Yes, yes, of course, we’ve been trying to get in touch with all our mutual friends for two full days now, but you know how hard it is getting anyone to answer their phone on Christmas Day. Or even today, for that matter. No, no, I’m quite sure you’re right and that there’s absolutely nothing for us to worry about, but as I say, if I could possibly get my hands on a list of anyone she was working alongside at the restaurant on the night of the twenty-third, that would be really useful to us at this point … Brilliant. Huge thanks for this … And yes, of course I’ll be sure to call you the minute we do find her … Right, well, see you shortly, then. And once again, I really do appreciate everything you’re doing to help.’

      A big thumbs up sign to me, then finally he wraps it up.

      ‘Well? Any news?’ I ask, on edge of seat, bowels knotted and palms sweating, too antsy even to say hi properly.

      ‘I’m so sorry about that, Angie,’ he says, not answering my question and instead coming over to give me a big, warm hug. I hug him back and for a moment, we hold each other v. tight. And it’s comforting. He smells lovely too, but then Simon always smells delicious. Citrussy.

      Then he slumps down in the armchair beside me and rubs his eyes like he’s ready to flake out with exhaustion. Unsurprising really, given that the poor guy must have left Galway at some ridiculous sparrow fart of an hour this morning, to drive all the way to the nursing home in Limerick, not to mention coming straight on to Dublin.

      ‘Simon, you mentioned the police?’

      ‘It’s not going to come to that, trust me. She’ll have materialised by then,’ he says. ‘But if we’ve no more news today, then I think maybe it’s our best option.’

      Then he clocks the stressed-out-of-mind look on me and softens. Even sits forward and takes both my hands in his. Feels warm and reassuring.

      ‘Oh, now, come on, Ange, you’ve got to keep calm. Chances are she’s safe and well, and, for whatever reason, just can’t get a message through to us. Maybe she’s been staying with someone she works with who lives down the country, where there’s no phone signal, for instance.’

      ‘You honestly think she could just crash out with friends and not even go to see Mrs K.? On Christmas Day? You really think she’d be capable of doing that? Because I, for one, just aren’t buying it!’

      ‘I know, I know,’ he sighs, letting go of my hands and staring straight ahead of him now, the gorgeous green eyes focused, v. on-the-case. ‘Believe me I know that none of this adds up. But all you and I can do for the moment at least, is take this one step at a time. Worse thing is jumping to conclusions. And the second worse thing we can do is panic.’

      I nod, a bit numbly.

      ‘By the way, I guessed you talking to Sacetti just now? Any news?’

      ‘Yeah, that was Sacetti all right. Ever met him through Kitty?’

      I shake my head. Though I’ve often heard her talking about him. Apparently, although happily married with five grown-up kids who all work for him, he has a terrible eye for the laydeez, and Kitty claims he’s an outrageous flirt, particularly with the younger waitresses. Even tried it on with her once, but was swiftly met with a sharp knee to the groin and a stern lecture about how he should try being a bit nicer to his gorgeous and v. hard-working wife.

      ‘Well, like just about everyone else, he hasn’t seen her in a few days …’

      ‘Oh for God’s sake! When will someone turn up with news that can actually help us?’

      ‘No, hang on, there’s more,’ Simon gently cuts across me. ‘I asked him for a full list of all the staff who were working alongside Kitty on her last night there.

      ‘OK. Well … good thinking.’

      ‘And Sacetti immediately agreed, said he was glad to be of help. They’re actually open today and he’s in work, so we can call in, if you’ve time. Then maybe the two of us could come back here and do a ring-around of all her co-workers to see if anyone knows anything.’

      I nod eagerly.

      ‘Because,’ he continues, sounding supremely confident, ‘someone just has to. She could easily have gone to another work colleague’s house after she clocked off her last shift, maybe for a few Christmas drinks and somehow ended up staying there. Maybe she figured Mrs K. was fine, so she just decided to hang out wherever she was for Christmas. She and I aren’t due to go away on holidays till tomorrow, so for now at least, let’s just assume the best. We might even hear from her later on today; you of all people know how scatty Kitty can sometimes be. She’s well capable of just bouncing through the front door this evening like absolutely nothing’s wrong and start flinging stuff into a suitcase for the trip. You know what she’s like. So until then, the best thing you and I can do is stay focused and keep our heads. Just remember, there’s dozens of perfectly reasonable explanations for this.’

      Simon sounds calm, self-assured, completely confident. And, amazingly, given the state I’m in, some of it manages to rub off on me. Even though I know deep down in my bowels this is a big load of horse manure. My best pal in the world would NOT stand me up on my own birthday. It’s unthinkable. Just not possible.

      ‘So, are you free to come to the restaurant with me right now, by any chance?’ he asks, hauling himself up and rooting around for his car keys. ‘Sooner we get that list from Sacetti, the sooner we can start ringing around. Be a helluva lot quicker if we work together.’

      ‘’Course I’m coming with you,’ I tell him firmly. ‘You think I’m going anywhere till all this is sorted?’

      He looks gratefully down at me and smiles.

      ‘You’re a good friend, Angie. Kitty always says you’re the best and it’s only the truth.’

      ‘She’d do exactly the same for me. I know she would.’

      ‘So apart from all this,’ he says, helping me on with my heavy, winter coat like the perfect gentleman he is, ‘how are you doing? Holding up?’

      ‘Been

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