Chapter 1

Note to the reader: This novel is told through two different points of view: Emma's and Ted's.

1st October 2015: 9:00 am.

"We’re late!"

Yesterday, I’d called the school and told them that Barbara, my daughter, had a temperature. I was warned that I wouldn’t need a doctor slip for one day, but for two I would, which meant that it was imperative that she made it in today.

Barbara’s temperature had been normal yesterday, but I’d ramped up the heating just so that we could stay at home. Bad mommy! I must admit that she loved it just as much as I did, and we spent the day watching 'Frozen.' It was one of our favorite Disney movies. No matter how many times we watch it, it just never gets old. We sang 'Let It Go' one too many times, and Barbara wanted to build a snowman by the end of it. It was cold outside, but living in Central London we hardly ever have the pleasure of having extreme temperatures sufficient to build a snowman.

Yesterday was a welcome distraction from my marriage, my blog and my cheating husband; everything that was giving me a headache felt like a thing of the past.

Today was back to reality. I didn’t want my six-year-old daughter, Barbara, to realize that I was panicking. I didn’t want to frighten her.

How could a brand new Audi not start?

The damn thing wouldn’t start, which meant that we would be late. There was only one way for us to be on time, and that was to get on the dreaded Tube like the rest of the London commuters whose approach to getting on the Tube was to act as if they were on a battle field, and the only ones who would make it through to the other side were the fittest and the strongest. We didn’t classify as being strong or fit. I’d never been on the underground before, let alone during rush hour.

But today I promised that I would be brave and join them, otherwise there was no way that she would get to school on time. Driving wasn’t an option, neither was getting on a bus. I wanted us to get there on time, but sitting in a bus would have meant that I was desperate. I wasn’t, but now I was wondering if maybe it was a better option.

I moved to the gate robotically, as my hands stopped sweating and my heart stopped pounding as it echoed through my body.

We made it!

I had a ticket and my child, and in a few short minutes we would be out of this pool of confusion. I didn’t even worry about how I was going to get home. I just knew that I had one chore and that was to get her to school. The assistant at the gate stared at me for a brief second. I glanced down and saw Barbara’s hat with her hand safely in mine. I shook my head at the fact that I wanted to give her a hug right now. She was excited about doing something new, something out of the ordinary, whereas it frightened the life out of me.

I showed the pretty blonde attendant my ticket. She motioned for me to press it against the electric sensor, the one that would allow us to get to the other side. I nodded as I pressed it and then she said, “Go through, love.”

We were on the disabled side of the exit; that was a lesson that I’d learned when I’d left Victoria. The disabled gate meant that both Barbara and I could go through with one ticket, rather than the other, which would require two. Barbara traveled for free, not that I couldn’t afford to get her a ticket, but why should I pay for her to go through this slaughter? I shouldn’t even have been traveling this way anyway. Not when I had a brand new car in my driveway.

“Thank you, we’re late!”

She nodded, obviously not interested in anything that I had to say, and then she turned to attend to another passenger that had a child with a hat similar to Barbara’s. I was thinking that they went to the same school, but the other child had a red uniform and matching blazer, whereas Barbara’s was green with a matching dress. I thought for a second about how the other child’s uniform was nicer than my daughter’s, and wondered if all the schools in Kensington had similar uniform.

We both went through, and I held on to Barbara’s hand once again. This time, the crowd disintegrated, and the fear escaped me as we finally reached the exit of the station. I was a grown woman living in Chelsea scared about taking the underground, I felt pathetic when I was purchasing a ticket. I knew about the Oyster card. I’d heard that they were the cheapest way to travel, but I’d never felt the need or desire to purchase one. I never expected to use public transport, but the saying ‘never say never’ crept through my mind.

My main fear was trying to make it through the herd that took the underground every single day. I watched them at times when I stopped at the lights, flocking into the stations as if there was a fire on the outside and the only means of escape and safety was to get into the station. They would leave the same way. As if there was a fire in the station and they had to escape it by coming out.

I’d always thought of myself as one of the lucky ones, not having to endure the painful experience every single day. I was a woman who was fortunate to have a husband that provided too much for her and I escaped the onslaught every single day. Until, I realized that my precious husband may provide financially, but he lacked the respect for the golden rule of marriage. Faithfulness.

We had just a few stairs to get to outside and I didn’t let go off her hand. I would tell her about how brave she was and how proud I was of her today. She hadn’t deserved to miss school yesterday. We’d had fun, but I’d been exhausted and I hadn’t been acting like the responsible parent, just a selfish one. Between spending all my time on the blog and trying to figure out whether to just move out while Ted was away or to carry on with my original plan… The stress of it all had finally taken its toll. Yesterday, I’d broken down and decided that I needed a break from it all. I had the evidence of his extramarital affairs, and the funds transfer from his company that was unethical. He wasn’t due back until Friday, which was enough time to destroy him, the same thing that he’d done to me. I wasn’t going to leave one stone unturned when it came to giving Ted Rogers the treatment that he deserved.

Just two minutes until the school gate closed and I would have to tell them about the troubles with my car, the brand new car not working and the garage claiming to have called me about it. I didn’t remember seeing any message about the car until today.

Anyway, it was better that we were a little late than that she missed another day of school.

As we reached the top of the stairs, I was thankful that we had both arrived safely, knowing that we were only a few minutes late for school.

It had made me feel so disoriented, being down there. There was a cool breeze, which turned my dress which clung to me through the sweat built up by the heat of being on the underground. I felt calm once again. The sounds of the horns didn’t deter me from giving her the hug that she deserved. Barbara had been brave; so I stopped moving and bent down.

I wanted just one minute to tell her that she’d done so well and we were just a few yards from her school. I hadn’t seen her blue eyes since we’d left Victoria station. But as I bent down, I didn’t see her sea blue eyes. I didn’t see her blonde hair at the bottom of the straw hat.

Nothing about this child was familiar.

I realized that the hand that I had been holding wasn’t my daughter’s.

“Barbara,” I whispered, knowing that wasn’t her name. Everything that had happened on this journey flashed through my mind like a wave hitting the shore.

“Who are you? Where’s Barbara?” I was firing questions at this little girl, and her brown eyes were filling with tears.

My heart skipped a beat and then it stopped. I blinked furiously, hoping that this was a mistake. The last time I’d hallucinated was over four years ago when I’d been taking heroin. That was a long time ago.

I whispered once again, “Barbara?”

The little girl whispered, “I want my mommy,” and then she started to sob. I should have comforted her, told her that it was going to be all right, but I was confused. Upset. Frightened at the prospect that I’d stood near to someone and switched children. I didn’t understand how that was even possible. I found myself speechless, but then I stood up and looked at her hat as I took it off her head and threw it on the ground. The same uniform, the same shoes, the same everything, but she wasn’t my child.

My daughter was lost, and I had to find her!