A Model Mother

Chapter 17

Miles was woken up by his mobile ‘phone going off; he had fallen asleep fully clothed on top of the covers and felt stiff and uncomfortable. He suddenly remembered that he had been waiting up, hoping to get a response to his text from Rose. He grabbed the ‘phone.

It was Bill. And it was 0500.

“Miles?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Sorry to call so early but you told me you wanted to know immediately we managed to track down Max.”

Miles sat up.

“Where is he?”

“In rehab for addiction to alcohol and prescription pills. It’s a clinic in Hampshire, England, in the New forest. It’s called Oaklands. Francesca reckons it’s a two to three hour drive from London, tops. I’ve got someone keeping an eye on the place in case he decides to do a runner. Francesca is desperate to go and see him but I’ve persuaded her to wait until you and I had talked. Once he knows we’ve discovered him he may try to disappear."

“OK, what are our options?”

“Well, we can do nothing, just wait for him to dry out and if he does decide to leave without telling us, we can trail him. Once he’s sober we can tackle him over the scam with the ‘photos.”

 “Or we can go visit him and insist on meeting with him whatever state he’s in.”

“We can get the police involved, report what he did with the ‘photos as a blackmail attempt, but I’d prefer to get all our ducks in a row before taking that option. I’m still trying to trace who the people in the photographs are; he may have hired them through an agency of some kind, models or actors. But if we do find them and they are prepared to make a witness statement we may be closer to nailing him legally……..assuming that is what you decide to do.”

“How is Francesca,” Miles diverted. Bill was after all, talking about his future brother-in-law.

“She’s upset obviously, and wants desperately to see him. But if you’re worried about a conflict of interest, don’t be; Francesca understands I have a job to do.”

 “Although”, he conceded, “I anticipate a tense situation should it come to prosecution and jail.”

“Hmmm,” Miles was listening carefully to Bill and trying to quickly assess what was for the best.

“I want to go to the clinic,” he decided.

 “I’ll go with Francesca if she’ll let me, and I’d like to go as soon as possible. Even if I don’t get to see him personally I want to look at where he is, find out as much as I can about what state he’s in and when I’m likely to be able to see him face to face. Once I’ve done that I’ll have a better idea of what steps to take next. Bill, where are you, in London or the US?”

“I’m in London; if you don’t mind I’d like to come with you too.”

“Sure. I’ll have a car pick you both up, I’ll be in it. Just text me to let me know what time we leave.”

“Will do,” said Bill and rang off.

Miles checked his messages and missed calls. Nothing. Rose had not responded to his text from last night. 

Miles punched the bedcovers hard.

“Idiot,” he shouted to himself. What the hell had possessed him to press the send button?