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Taking a deep breath, Lena does exactly that. She talks about the tuna sandwiches she made for Elissa’s packed lunch, how they left the house ridiculously early and decided to stop for breakfast en route.
‘Where was that?’
‘A place called Wide Boys.’
Mairéad knows it – an American-style eatery on the A338 approach road. ‘Do you remember anything particular about your visit? Anything at all that stands out?’
Lena shakes her head. Then she blinks. ‘Actually, thewaitress was … She was a little odd. I mean, friendly, but … now I think about it, she took quite an interest in Elissa. Even asked if she got her green eyes from her dad.’
‘What did she look like?’
‘Big woman, early fifties, blonde hair. I’d recognize her, definitely. She was wearing contact lenses – at least that’s what she told us. Green, the same colour as Elissa’s.’
Mairéad notes it down. She’ll send officers to Wide Boys to interrogate the waitress and also to review any available CCTV. ‘After your breakfast, you drove straight to the hotel?’
‘Yes.’
‘How long did that take?’
‘I don’t know. Ten minutes? Fifteen?’
‘What did you and Elissa talk about on the way?’
‘The tournament, mainly. How she was feeling.’
‘Which was?’
‘Nervous. Excited.’
‘Do you remember anything about the journey?’
‘Not really.’
‘After you—’
Lena lurches forwards. ‘Stupid Nasty Prat!’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Before we pulled off for the restaurant, we nearly hit some guy trying to overtake us on the inside. I can’t believe Iforgot! He cut in front and slammed on his brakes, almost like he wanted us to go into him.Stupid Nasty Prat’s what Elissa said. She made it up from the letters on his number plate. SNP 12, maybe, or SNP 16. It was a BMW – I remember that much.’
‘This is good, Lena. This is very good.’
Excusing herself, Mairéad contacts the incident room, directing officers to Wide Boys and instructing Halley to trace the BMW. Afterwards, she asks Lena’s permission to look upstairs.
IV
Standing in Elissa’s bedroom, it’s impossible not to feel emotional. The serenity of the space – airy and uncluttered – competes with a terrible silence. There’s a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, a narrow bookcase with volumes neatly ordered. On the wall is a butterfly-shaped clock with a glittery minute hand. Above the bed hangs a framed print of Mount Fuji against a cobalt sky; in the foreground, the branches of a Japanese cherry tree heavy with blossom. On Elissa’s desk sits an antique walnut jewellery box inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Mairéad lifts the lid. Inside, on a bed of red velvet, lies a sea-shell bracelet and a Cadbury Crunchie.
She goes to the wardrobe and opens it. When she sees the clothes hanging up, she can’t help but touch them. The sleeve of a hand-knitted jumper feels warm, as if it’s only just been discarded. The heat is illusory but poignant even so. Mairéad can’t imagine how Lena Mirzoyan must feel when she comes in here. Always, motherhood has struck her as a voluntary expedition into terror. But Lena, sitting downstairs, is dealing with trauma beyond comprehension.
She sits on the bed. With one hand, she smooths the duvet. She thinks of the journalists outside, smoking their cigarettes. She thinks of her team, back in Dorset; the officers in neighbouring forces; staff from the NCA, from charities and external agencies. She thinks of Scott, his love and his kindness and his extraordinary patience. And finally she dares to consider the tiny scrap of life in her womb.
Mairéad puts her hands on her belly. Her gaze wanders to the wardrobe and Elissa’s rack of clothes. Impossible, now, to escape the feeling that these two lives are interwoven.Hold on, she thinks,please hold on.
In her pocket, her phone starts buzzing.
When Mairéad stands the room sways around her. She tastes bile and fears she’ll vomit, but within a few seconds the feeling passes. Hauling out her phone, she strides from Elissa’s room.