Read Online Alexandra, Gone by Anna McPartlin - Free Book Online Page A

to Russia when her father died six months earlier.
    They spoke for about fifteen minutes, and before she hung up she promised to call him to arrange to go out for a drink.
    “You see, Deborah! I’m going out for a drink, with a man, very soon!” she shouted at the wall once more. “I am not Crazy Dead Cat Lady, not today and not tomorrow!”
    The cat stared at her from her freshly washed and pine-scented bed. Leslie looked at her watch. It was only nine, so she opened her computer and watched three episodes of Desperate Housewives season one before hitting the hay around eleven thirty.
    “Yeah, happy New Year, Deborah, and up yours!”
    Tom beeped the horn, and Jane appeared within seconds. She ignored her mother’s face pressed to the basement window when she turned to close the gate. Tom had gotten out and opened her door. She thanked him and buckled up while he made his way around to his side of the car. He got in and thanked her for agreeing to come to the Walshes with him, explaining how awkward it was since Alexandra disappeared. She wondered why he put himself through it, and he admitted to having a soft spot for Alexandra’s mother, Breda.
    They got to the house just after nine, and Alexandra’s younger sister, Kate, opened the door. She hugged Tom and said a polite hello to Jane. Kate vaguely remembered Jane. The last time she had seen her she had probably been no older than ten. They entered the hallway, and it was as though Jane had stepped back through time. The carpet was brown with red diamonds, the telephone table still had two yellow telephone books under it, and the walls were still dotted with holiday photos from the seventies and eighties and at least three of them included her. She was ushered quickly into the sitting room.
    There, sitting on the green velvet chair by the window, was Breda. The chair was the same, but Breda had aged well beyond her years. Having begun her family at a young age, Breda couldn’t have been any older than sixty-five, but she looked ninety. Her face was wizened and her tall frame shriveled. Her hair was white and cropped. Her hands, clasped and holding rosary beads, were so thin they were transparent, revealing blue and purple veins and knuckles that appeared knotted.
    She smiled and held out her hand. Jane took it and felt a little weak.
    “Jane Moore,” said Breda, shaking her head, “you’ve grown into such a beautiful woman.”
    “Thank you, Breda. It’s lovely to see you again.”
    “And Tom tells me you’ve been so good helping him find my Alexandra.”
    “I’m only setting up a benefit to highlight her case and the Missing of Ireland.” Jane was embarrassed and wished she was in a position to do more.
    “You were always such a lovely girl. Alexandra will be so pleased to have you in her life again.” She was crying, but her tears were silent.
    Jane noticed Eamonn enter the room from the corner of her eye, but Breda still had a firm grip on her hand, and she felt Breda deserved her full attention.
    “Still so blond,” said Breda, and she flipped some of Jane’s shoulder-length hair.
    “I have some help these days,” Jane said.
    “Do you remember Alexandra’s hair?”
    Jane nodded.
    “She had the richest chestnut hair, thick and glossy,” said her mother. “It was just above her shoulders when we saw her last, but the police say it could have changed now. I hope it hasn’t. She had the most beautiful hair.”
    “Mam,” Eamonn said, “Jane doesn’t want to hear that.”
    Jane turned to Eamonn and nodded hello. “It’s fine,” she said. “I understand.”
    Breda let go of Jane’s hand. “You should get a drink.” She looked at Tom, who was still standing at the door. “Tom, you should get Jane a drink.”
    Tom took Jane into the kitchen, where Kate and her husband, Owen, Eamonn’s wife, Frankie, and Alexandra’s father, Ben, were standing around the counter. Frankie welcomed Tom with a hug and Ben nodded to him. Kate offered him