You Don't Own Me (The Russian Don 1)

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Mark asks, frowning, finally getting the seriousness of the situation.

‘Can you drive me home please?’

‘Of course,’ he says, and springs up instantly.

I get my bra on, quickly button up, and numbly follow him out of his apartment.

‘Have the police been called?’ Mark asks in the lift.

I can’t think. All my thoughts are muddled. ‘I don’t know, but I don’t think so. There must be a simple explanation,’ I insist. I realize I am desperately clutching at the idea that it is all a simple misunderstanding.

In the car I get onto Daisy’s Facebook page. As my mother said, Daisy stopped posting two days back. Her last post was a picture of her and Marie standing outside Olive Pink Botanic Gardens in Alice Springs. I go into Marie’s page. Her last post has a picture of her feeding a tame kangaroo. She is laughing, and I can see a little bit of Daisy in the photo too. I click out of Facebook and go into my email account. Daisy’s last email to me is from five days ago. I read through it carefully. There is nothing in it but a great excitement and happiness to be out in the big wide world. I find Marie’s mother’s number in my address book and call her.

‘Hello, Mrs. Reid. This is Daisy’s sister, Dahlia,’ I say calmly. If she is not worried I don’t want to alarm her.

‘Hello, dear. It’s been a long time. You’re in England now, aren’t you?’

‘Um … yes.’

‘Have you met the Queen yet?’ she titters.

‘Er … no. I was actually calling to see if Marie had called you.’

She pauses. ‘The last time I spoke to Marie was Thursday. They were going to go into the desert and I think she’ll only call again when they get back to Adelaide.’

‘Right.’

‘Is anything the matter, child?’ Worry has climbed into her voice.

‘No. No, I just wanted to contact my sister. Her phone is off.’

‘Oh yes, apparently there is no reception in the desert,’ she says, relieved.

‘Of course. I’ve got to go. Somebody’s calling me. Thank you, Mrs. Reid.’

I end the call.

‘You’ve got to call the police, or the American Embassy in Australia,’ Mark says softly.

‘I plan to,’ I say quickly, but I don’t want to call them yet. That would be acknowledging that she was truly missing. She can’t be. I just want it to be a misunderstanding. I don’t want Daisy to be missing. All kinds of horrible thoughts flash through my mind. They were going to the desert. What if they are lost there? What if they are lying somewhere, robbed and raped? Oh God!

I frown and try to think of where Daisy had told me she was going to stay in Alice Springs. I go back into her WhatsApp messages and find the name there. I Google the budget hotel and call them. A very sleepy man with a thick Australian accent answers the phone.

‘Yeah, yeah, this is the bloody Traveler’s Center. What do you bloody want?’

‘I’m looking for my sister. She should have arrived yesterday.’

‘Do you know what the bloody time is?’

I swing around to Mark. ‘What time is it in Australia now?’ I whisper.

‘Day time,’ he whispers back instantly.

I speak into the phone. ‘I’m very sorry I woke you up, but please, I’m calling from England and I really need to find her. It’s an emergency.’

‘Go on. What’s the Sheila’s name, then?’

‘Daisy Fury.’

‘How you spelling that?’

‘Daisy: D A I S Y Fury: F U R Y.’

‘I got no one here by that name.’

My heart is racing in my chest. ‘Can you check for one more name please?’

‘Is that another sister of yours?’ he asks sarcastically.

‘No, it is the friend who was travelling with her.’

‘What’s her name then?’ he grumbles bad-temperedly.

‘Marie Reid.’

‘How you spelling that?’

‘Marie: M A R I E Reid: R E I D.’

‘Sorry. No one here by that name.’

‘Are you expecting anyone by that name?’

‘Bookings are in a different book,’ he says reluctantly.

‘Please. Could you look? This is an emergency.’

He sighs elaborately. ‘Hang on a minute.’

I hear him put the receiver down and move away. I even hear the thud of the book hit the surface of wherever he has thrown it on, then pages being turned. ‘Yeah, it looks like they booked for five nights but were no shows.’

My heart is in my throat. Now I know without any doubt that it’s not something simple. It’s not innocent. ‘OK. Thank you for your help,’ I say and end the call.

‘It’s time to alert the police, Dahlia,’ Mark says.

‘Just one last call.’ My last hope. I scroll up on my WhatsApp messages from Daisy. I know for sure she gave me the name. Bingo. Koala House. I Google Koala House. An aggressive sounding woman picks up.

‘Hello, I am looking for my sister, Daisy Fury.’