The Missing 1

Copyright © October 2024 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author's Notes

This is an entry for the 2024 Halloween Contest. I hope you enjoy and would welcome your comments and votes.

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Prequel

You see, that is what fate does to you... doors close and others open

Sometimes fate took you in directions you never expected.

Events had that unerring habit of happening, and nine times out of ten, you simply moved on. What you never looked at were the consequences... how one event led to another, and another, and before you knew it, there was no turning back.

That was me, Victoria Douglas, Vicky to my friends (not that I had too many that I called close), a green behind the ears, newbie journalist, fresh out of university, eager to make a name for herself, not scared to ruffle a few feathers to make it happen, never one to miss out on an opportunity however far-fetched it might have seemed.

Whatever the story, even the most trivial, somewhere there was a scoop to be had. All it took was an open mind, a fertile imagination, and a knack of being in the right place at the right time. I promised myself I would write that on my gravestone when the time came.

'Here lies Vicky Douglas... all she had was an open mind, a fertile imagination, and a knack of being in the right place at the right time.'

But that was the problem. Sometimes fate had a habit of taking you in directions you never expected, and when it did, choices had to be made, some of which changed every plan you may ever have made.

So, that was me... Victoria Douglas.

I asked the questions; I got the answers.

I made decisions; I understood the consequences.

I had no regrets.

Everything I did was of my choosing.

You see, that is what fate did to you. Doors closed and others opened. Opportunities appeared, and it was down to you to decide whether to take them or not.

Sometimes, you cannot plan for every outcome.

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One

Friday, 6 September 2024 - The call to action

It all started in early September, with the simplest of questions.

"Miss Douglas... can you spare me a few minutes?"

I glanced up from my screen. It was a rhetorical question. When the editor asked you to jump, you replied how high. You never knew. He may be about to give you that big break, the one which would make you a household name... okay, so the one which may put your name in lights within the industry, and that's what I needed at this point in my fledgling career.

Career? Well, maybe you'd be pushing to call it a career in the truest of senses, but for sure I was intent on making it my career. I'd graduated the summer before last, but rather than getting on with working life, I decided to travel for a few months. God, yeah, that was a wonderful time, and I learned so much from the places I visited, but I had to admit, it did set me back a little. The problem was that you could hardly make a fortune writing about your gap-year backpacking across Eastern Europe in search of... and here is the silliest part of all... in search of any semblance of truth behind the myths and legends of times gone by.

Instead of getting myself onto a graduate programme on one of the broadsheets—I still referred to the more serious reads in that way, even though the modern-day press was far from paper based, and most definitely not broad—I found myself starting off as the lowest of the low on one of the smaller city outfits. How long had it been now? Not far off eighteen months, not that I was counting, and still I waited for that big break.

It had been the right thing to do. I needed to get on the ladder, and then I could prove my worth. There was only one problem. News was news, and whilst there was plenty of it, what I got for myself was far from being scoop-worthy material. Out here was hardly the capital was it, where every day turned up a new scandal waiting to be exposed.

What were the highlights here, petty theft, maybe the odd domestic case, or more likely another road traffic accident? They weren't exactly going to get me a table at the British Journalism Awards, let alone any thought of a Pulitzer. But it was a start, and my mother always told me—at least she did before she was so cruelly taken from this mortal world, her life cut short by an unseen killer going by the name of cancer—that every epic adventure began with one small step.

I never knew my father, so losing my mother hit me hard. She'd always been there for me, and somehow, I knew she'd be up there, looking down on everything I did. And, as for me, all I wanted to do was make her proud. So, here I was, taking my own small steps along what I hoped would be a monumental journey, never quite sure on the destination, but always knowing it was somewhere waiting to be found.

Already, Julian was halfway across the room, heading to one of the empty meeting rooms along the far side of the office. That was his style, or maybe it just went with the territory. Julian was friendly enough, in a professional way, but he never struck you as really having time for the personal side of working life. Today seemed no different.

I jumped up from my desk. My first thought was to smooth out the tight pencil-line miniskirt that I had chosen to wear, easing it back to halfway down my thighs from where it had ridden up. I tried my best, to look the part, to fit in. You never knew, maybe a pretty face would get you that big break, just as much as being in the right place at the right time.

No, don't get me wrong. I wasn't that sort. There was no way I would sell myself, sleeping my way to the top—give me some credit—but, if a sweet smile, or a flash of leg, was going to get you noticed, then I wasn't afraid to put myself in the limelight. I wasn't exactly one for blowing my own trumpet either, but if I did, I would have to say that I was a pretty young thing, if you liked them a little on the petite side. For most in this office, being petite translated as not having much up top. For me, I promised myself that an interesting personality more than made up for any lack of size.

I was a blonde—yes, the mid-shoulder length wavy locks were well and truly natural—which seemed to get an element of attention, as did a rather shapely pair of legs, perfectly suited for the short skirts I tended to wear. Being blonde though tended to come at a cost. Even after one of the hottest summers on record, I was hardly glowing in colour. I was, what you might call, on the edge of ghostlike in complexion, so relied on what I wore to add a little warmth. The skirt might have been black, but the deep plum top, with its low-cut, slightly gaping front, added a dash of colour. Smoky make-up tones simply added to the impact, subtly highlighting both eyes and lips.

I flicked my hair back from where it had draped forward, pushing it behind my ears, picked up a notepad and pen, then followed in his footsteps. In his footsteps? Well, almost. Julian was around six five, and I was not far off being a foot shorter. He was wearing brogues, and I had heels—okay, so they weren't exactly killer heels, but they were still heels. He wore the trousers, and I had a rather tight skirt. Enough to say, each of his strides was about two of mine, so I was following in his wake, if not exactly in his footsteps. By the time I reached the meeting room, he was already sitting down, waiting.

"Ah... Miss Douglas... close the door and do take a seat."

Julian spoke with a surety in his tone which had you listening to every word. His suggestion wasn't quite a command, yet I quickly did as he asked.

"Please... sir," I responded, pulling out a chair on the side opposite Julian, and taking a seat.

I crossed my legs, careful not to give an inadvertent flash of red from the knickers I wore under that short skirt.

"Please call me Victoria," I continued.

"Yes, of course... thank you Victoria... thank you for joining me... and, feel free to call be Julian," Julian replied.

I sat there. I had the utmost respect for Julian. He'd been there, done it, and been thoroughly successful. Now in the twilight of his career, the appeal of a slightly lower pace of life had brought him away from that city slicker lifestyle, but he had the contacts, and he could still teach me so much. It was just a case of knowing how to leverage the opportunities, without seeming to be desperate, and without crossing that line, the one I promised myself I would never stoop so low as to do.

"You've been here a while now, haven't you Miss Dou... I mean Victoria?" Julian asked. "And I know you've been looking to take on more."

"I guess so..." I replied, pausing to compose myself. "You know, Julian... I hadn't really noticed. Time flies when you're having fun, they say... and yes, I'd be happy to take on more. I promise you... I'm ready."

It was a little lie. Of course I had noticed, and time hadn't always flown, nor had it always been fun. I had joined immediately after Easter 2023 and today was 6th September 2024. So, that made it three hundred and fifty-seven working days, by my reckoning and assuming I had correctly taken the bank holidays into account... oh, and five and a half hours if you considered it was now two-thirty in the afternoon.

One thing I was good with was numbers, and I had promised myself to get at least one break before the first year was out. That hadn't quite happened, but maybe now was the chance, and I could always say it was before a year's worth of working days had passed. Was it sad that I could honestly admit to having counted the days off?

"I know," Julian replied, "and I always said you would get that opportunity when the right one came along. I know you've been pushing the others to get more involved."

"Well," I replied, a little taken aback at the thought that I'd been pushing. "I was just showing eagerness... you know... to help... to learn... to..."

"Yes, I know," Julian chipped in, "but they don't all see it that way. You can imagine how it appears. You're the newbie with the background in academia, and most of them have been slaving away for years, and here you are trying to muscle in on what they see as their rightfully deserved opportunities. You can be, and don't take this the wrong way, direct at times... and some see it as a little intimidating, maybe even to the point of being just a little arrogant."

By now, my blood was boiling. Intimidating? Arrogant? How could he sit there so calmly and set such aspersions? It was enthusiasm, nothing more, nothing less. I just wanted a break, an opportunity to show my worth. Didn't he see that?

"So, Victoria," Julian continued. "We've been thinking, and maybe it is time for you to spread your wings."

"You want me to leave?" I asked, reading between the lines, and coming to the obvious conclusion.

"No... no... I want you to pick up your own story," Julian quickly corrected. "It's not the biggest, but it will give you that chance... you know... that opportunity to show your worth... to shine."

"I'll take it," I responded, almost snapping back my reply, not even thinking to ask what the opportunity may be. Just the thought of being given that chance, and what's more being my own boss, was worth it, even if this did turn out to be another of those missing cat stories which tended to fill the lesser pages. If nothing else, I would be accountable for my own actions, and then I'd show him just what he was missing out on.

"Look, I need to be honest, Victoria," Julian continued. "It's not really a story per se, but more a secondment... at one of our sister sheets."

"A secondment... sounds interesting," I replied, intent on promoting a positive vibe. Even if it wasn't a story, it was the chance I needed, and given the chance, I knew I could show Julian just what I was capable of... and then... then the next one might be the big one.

"Don't get your expectations up too high, Victoria," Julian responded. "It's not glitz and glamour... it'll be three and a bit months... from now to the end of the year... and they are a bit out in the sticks. We'll get you an apartment up there, so you don't need to commute each week. Is that a problem?"

"No... no..." I lied. It wasn't a problem, but equally the idea of moving away wasn't what I had hoped to be doing. Already my cynical side was thinking they just wanted me out of the way, not that I was going to give them the pleasure of knowing I was a little non-plussed.

"What will I be doing?" I asked.

"Bit of everything," Julian replied, "but mainly investigative journalism. I know they've got a big anniversary coming up, and there'll be an expectation to run a piece."

"An anniversary? What, of the paper?" I asked, suddenly becoming a little more enthusiastic.

"No... no... something more serious... twenty years back, two girls, not far off your age, went missing... rather strange circumstances I hear, but nothing's ever been proven... so they'll need to put something together, you know, to show empathy with the community. I'm sure there'll be other stories to cover as well."

Suddenly the prospect of that secondment was looking up. An unsolved mystery was right up my street. Okay, so the story may have been a couple of decades old, but it was so much better than anything I'd had to date and, yes, it was an opportunity. I was sure I could do it justice, and maybe, just maybe, I could turn up that vital snippet of information which would provide some closure on these missing girls. Call it youthful enthusiasm, but in the moment, I was eager to find out more.

"Who will I be working with?" I asked.

"For," Julian replied. "The editor, Eric, is a friend of mine. He's a bit of a character, but he's a good guy, and I know he'll let you get on with things... which is what you want, isn't it, Victoria?"

I nodded.

"When would I start?" I asked.

"It'll take a few days to sort out the accommodation, so I'd say to move up there the week after next," Julian replied. "I guess you'll need some time of your own to get yourself ready, so feel free to take next week off if you need to."

"Yes, Julian... thank you, Julian... I will, Julian," I responded.

The conversation may not have been what I was expecting when the editor asked me if I had a few minutes, but still it gave me what I wanted... an opportunity... even if it didn't quite sound like the scoop to end all scoops.

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Two

Monday, 16 September 2024 - First day nerves

"Can I help you, Miss?" the receptionist asked.

For a moment I just stared at her. The accent was so strong that it felt like I had walked into another world. All she had done was ask the most obvious of questions, yet I found myself taking time to comprehend just how I should answer. Was it the accent which had me flummoxed, or was it something else?

As I stared back at a pleasant enough looking older lady, I started to feel a little out of place. I was here, of that I was sure, but it wasn't quite what I expected. Yes, it was an office. It had a sign outside which proudly announced the establishment as being the Eastern Gazette. It was exactly where I needed to be, but it wasn't quite what I was used to.

The receptionist smiled back at me.

"I said, can I help you, Miss?" she asked once more.

I composed myself, all the time never letting my gaze move away from the woman behind the front desk. Confidence, I kept telling myself. You're here on merit, and this is your chance. Don't blow it at the first hurdle. It's not like she would be any sort of competition, would she? If anything, she was more like a mother figure than a challenger.

Was that it?

Was that what seemed so odd?

Back in my city office, the receptionist would be dressed in a smart jacket, blouse and most likely a flattering skirt. Oh, and yes, there'd be barely a patch of skin which hadn't been covered in make-up. Here though... well, to say it took me by surprise was an understatement.

For a moment, I found myself metaphorically running my eyes over my own attire, then back at the outfit in front of me. Here I was, dressed as sharp as I could be, in a white blouse, black knee-length skirt and matching black jacket. I'd stayed away from the shortest of skirts or more revealing of tops, just in case, but even now I felt I was standing out like a sore thumb when I considered the appearance which greeted me on entry to the office.

The receptionist's dress wasn't too bad, if a little frumpy, but the cardigan?

I thought back to that conversation with Julian, and how he had described the editor as being a bit of a character. Now I wondered if it was just the editor or the whole operation. I took a deep breath, and tried to convince myself that things could have been worse.

"Is this the Gazette?" I asked, stating what I already knew, but hoping it was a way to start conversation.

"That's what it says above the door," came the reply. "Is there something I can help you with, Miss?"

"Errm... yes," I announced, taking another deep breath, and trying to make myself sound as professional as I could. "I'm Victoria Douglas... here to see Eric Meddlesham."

"I see," the receptionist replied. "That won't be possible though. Mr Meddlesham is occupied today. Has a new report to take care of. Can you come back tomorrow, or if it is urgent, I can take a message and get somebody to call you back."

This wasn't exactly going well. Where was the visitor's list announcing my arrival? Where was the warm country welcome? I guess I was prepared for them to be a bit eccentric out here, but any more laid back and they'd probably be asleep. For sure, this was going to take some getting used to, but I needed to keep calm and at least get my feet under the table.

"Yes... that's me... Victoria Douglas. Would you like to see my identification?" I replied, holding out my headquarters ID card, resplendent with my name, photo, and the group logo.

The receptionist took the card, and stared at the photo, then at myself, then back at the photo again. All the time, there was a look on her face which was not far from disbelief.

"Thank you... Miss... ermm... Douglas. Please take a seat and let me check with Mr Meddlesham that he is expecting you," the receptionist replied.

I took a seat on a rather well-worn leather sofa and waited whilst the receptionist picked up the phone. What should have been the quickest of conversations seemed to last forever. It was a good five minutes before the receptionist beckoned me back across.

"I'm sorry, Victoria," the receptionist apologised. "I guess I was expecting somebody..."

I stood there, a stern expression on my face as I anticipated what she was about to say. Male? Older? More experienced?

"... different," the receptionist concluded. "Eric says to make your way up. You'll find his office on the second floor at the back."

"Thank you," I responded, looking for the stairs.

"Behind the door on the right," the receptionist replied, reading my mind. "Oh, and you'll be needing this," she added, handing me a plain ID card. "We keep it for visitors, but you can have it as long as you are here. Hold it to the pad and it'll unlock the door."

I took the card and walked away from the front desk in the direction of the internal door. As I did, I had that feeling of being watched. Reaching the doorway, I held the card in my hand, but instead of pressing it up against the touchpad, I found myself turning back to face the receptionist. I was right. She was staring at me, smiling. Suddenly I became a little self-conscious. Without thinking I gave my outfit another once over.