Page 60 of Too Close To Home

Glen answered carefully, like a man accustomed to being asked a question and giving the information required. He wasn’t even annoyed at being asked the same things again and again.

Then Harrison came to the argument. “What was it about?”

Glen’s jaw tightened. “Same bloody thing everything’s about lately. Her wanting to do what she wants and me apparently being the bastard who won’t let her.”

“What did she want to do?”

“Go to Manchester.”

“To meet Leo Young?”

A flicker of surprise crossed Glen’s face. “You know about him?”

“We do.”

Glen sat back, shaking his head. “Some lad off the internet. She’s never even met him. And I’m supposed to wave her off to Manchester on her own?”

“You said no.”

“Course I bloody said no.”

There was heat there. Harrison watched it rise and disappear almost as quickly.

One officer had already tracked down Leo Young after a conversation with one of Emily’s distraught friends. The boy in Manchester whom Emily had met online and asked to meet her in person. Local police had spoken to him. He confirmed that he didn’t know where she was. But he had admitted they planned to meet the following weekend to attend the Neon Arcade gig in Manchester Arena. Emily had told him she wasn’t allowed to travel without permission. He’d tried to persuade her to come anyway. But since that morning, he’d sent her several more texts. None had been answered. None had been opened. Harrison had screenshots of the conversation sitting in his inbox, the timestamps stark against the blank silence that followed.

Glen rubbed a hand across his mouth. “She’s seventeen. Nearly an adult. She reminds me often enough. But that don’t mean she knows everything, does it?”

“About?”

“People. Lads. Men!” Glen flapped a hand. “Fucking strangers off the internet. She thinks cause she’s nearly an adult she can do whatever she likes. But she’s my daughter, for fuck’s sake!”

His voice cracked and he looked away sharply.

For several seconds he said nothing. Then his shoulders moved once and he pressed the heel of his hand hard against one eye. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise.”

“I should’ve just let her fucking go.”

Harrison stayed quiet.

Glen shook his head. “That’s what keeps going round in my head. If I’d said yes, she wouldn’t have stormed out. If I’d gone and picked her up myself…” He stopped, swallowed hard and looked up at the ceiling. “Christ.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away almost angrily. It looked real. More importantly, it felt real.

Guilt frequently did.

Harrison waited until Glen had pulled himself back together before continuing. “You said you expected Emily home around eleven?”

“Usually, aye.”

“But you went to sleep.”

Glen’s eyes came back to him. “I’d been at work since half six.”

“And you’d argued with her.”

“Aye.”