Page 17

CHAPTER 17

MATTHEW – D AY T WO

Back at home, Matthew checks his watch for the umpteenth time. Seven minutes to the main evening news. Six. Five. He glances across the room to Sally, who’s sitting, legs crossed, with her right foot flicking up and down.

They’re in the kitchen extension, both with iPads in hand, scrolling to check all the news updates online since the press conference. The amount of coverage is good but it’s still harrowing and utterly surreal to see Amelie’s smiling face on so many news sites, her bright blue eyes looking straight at the camera. Not just the local papers but national papers too. And although they know that this is the best way to get their little girl back safely, the reality of it is still a shock, even to Matthew, who knows more than Sally how these things usually play out.

‘Will it make the national news, do you think?’ Sally seems to feel his gaze but doesn’t lift her head as she speaks, eyes still fixed on her iPad as she continues to scroll.

‘Yes, I think it will. Which is good from Mel’s point of view and ours. The more people who are helping the better.’

‘So you really think this might help find her?’ Sally has looked up now, her face drawn. Eyes exhausted, Amelie’s pink rabbit alongside her on the sofa while Matthew is sitting on a wooden chair at the dining table.

‘We have to hope so. We have to stay positive, Sal. For Amelie. You were very brave up there and a lot of this coverage is thanks to you. You heard Mel say how many calls were coming in.’

‘Yes. But I was a bit surprised she disappeared so sharpish. Has she texted since?’ Sally looks wary as if trying to read his face as he answers.

‘No, but I expected that.’ This isn’t entirely true and he feels himself colour. Fact is, Matthew was equally surprised by Mel’s hasty exit but he’s trying to work through the range of positive explanations. She said she’d text an update but there’s been not a whisper. ‘She’ll be working through all the calls. Sifting through the information and prioritising what they need to act on first.’

‘Act on?’

‘Investigate. It’s just how it works after an appeal.’

‘Right.’

The silence is interrupted by Sal’s phone ringing, which startles them both, eyes wide. They react to all texts or calls like this now. Mouths dry. Hearts pounding.

Sally stares at the screen of the phone on the sofa.

‘Is it Mel?’ Matthew can’t help himself.

She shakes her head. ‘No. It’s Carol. ’

Sal’s expression is one of apprehension as she takes the call. Carol is the old school friend Matthew helped her find all those years ago when they first met. Carol lives in one of the adjoining cottages but is on an extended break in France. They haven’t seen her in over a month.

Is it true, my darling? I’ve just seen it on the BBC website. Can’t believe it ...

Sally has the volume up high and Matthew can hear Carol’s voice, all alarm, bleeding into the room.

‘Yes, I’m afraid it is.’ Sally starts to cry and has to clench her eyes tight and clear her throat before she can continue. ‘We can’t believe it either. Matthew’s here with me.’

Oh, Jeez. I’m sending you all my love and I’m going to come back home to be with you. Soon as I can get a flight ...

‘No, no. There’s no point doing that. We’re busy with the police and everything. There’s going to be an appeal on the news tonight. We’re hoping it will make the national news. Get more people helping.’

So who else is with you? Beth’s in New Zealand still, isn’t she? Does she know?

Matthew watches Sal’s face in the long pause. He’s torn. Beth and Carol are Sal’s closest friends but both have been away travelling lately. Sal could do with more support. Sal’s mum moved into a nursing home six months back. She has a heart condition and dementia and they’ve agreed not to tell her about Amelie yet, worried about the effect of stress on her health. The staff have been warned to keep her away from the news tonight.

‘It’s OK,’ says Sally. ‘I have this family liaison woman. She’s a bit – I don’t know. She means well. And it means I’m never alone.’

Right. It’s decided. I’m getting a flight first thing in the morning. No arguments. I’ll get there as soon as I can, darling.

Sal starts to sob, reaching into her pocket for a tissue.

‘Thank you,’ she manages.

They’ll find her. Stay strong, my darling. They’ll find her.

‘OK. I’m going to have to go now. We need to watch the news.’

OK. I’ll message tomorrow when I land. A pause . All my love to you both. I’m thinking of you constantly and wishing I was there already.

‘OK. We’ll see you tomorrow.’

Sally ends the call and puts the mobile back on the sofa alongside her before Matthew has any chance to share his misgivings. No time now to work out what to say; what to do about Carol. He uses the remote to turn on the television, quickly adjusting the volume. Too low at first.

He moves to sit next to Sally on the sofa, transferring her phone to the side table to make room. The first story is flooding, which has killed more than fifty people abroad. And then the second story ...

Sally gasps as Amelie’s face is full frame on the television. Police are appealing for help to find an eight-year-old girl who vanished while shopping with her mother.

Matthew reaches for his wife’s hand and they sit in silence through the coverage, including a live link, on the flooding story. The misery on-screen is terrible and Matthew feels uncomfortable that he can feel only agitation. No emotional bandwidth left to connect with this other tragedy. He finds he is tapping his hand on the arm of the sofa until at last the newsreader turns to the story of the missing little girl.

There is a picture of a smiling Amelie behind the newsreader. A quick summary of the story and then a full report with pictures and clips from the news conferences and several more photographs of Amelie. The one they first gave police and then more snaps that Sally chose later for the appeal, including a favourite of Amelie in her ballet outfit, dancing.

Matthew can see a tear rolling down Sally’s cheek and can hear her strained breaths. He squeezes her hand a little tighter as the reporter’s voiceover suddenly mentions his name. They now show his picture and the narrative references his work history – leaving the force after a ‘tragic case which involved the death of a child’ and then the recent coverage of his decision to rejoin the force and work again alongside his colleague DI Melanie Sanders who is now heading the inquiry to find Amelie. There is now a piece to camera, the male reporter in a dark navy coat in the pouring rain outside the police station. Black umbrella.

Police are not commenting on whether past cases may be at issue with this inquiry. Or whether reaction to Matthew Hill’s decision to rejoin the force is in any way a possible line of inquiry ...

Matthew feels the blood drain from his face and there’s suddenly a strange tingling in both his arms. The reporter continues to summarise details of Matthew’s career, the pitter-patter of rain on the umbrella increasing so that he has to raise his voice.

‘Why are they saying this? I don’t understand.’ Sally’s tone is genuinely incredulous. She turns to look at him briefly and then moves her gaze straight back to the television, frowning. ‘This isn’t helpful. Surely this isn’t helpful?’

The report then returns to shots of the news conference. A close-up of Sally holding Amelie’s rabbit. A clip of her speaking and then shots of her slowly leaving the room. The voiceover repeats the appeal for information of any kind and there is a graphic with Amelie’s picture alongside the dedicated phone number.

‘That’s good. It’s good they’re repeating the appeal with the phone number again.’ Matthew tries to keep his tone positive for Sally but his heart is still racing. Mel will be as upset as he is; she’d hoped by keeping him away from the press conference that his background wouldn’t be mentioned. The only relief is the reporter didn’t detail the threats that were made at the inquest. Lawyers would have vetoed that, he suspects. Libel risk.

‘It’s not good, is it?’ Sally repeats. ‘It’s not good that they mentioned you rejoining the force as potentially relevant? Showed your picture. What if Dawn Meadows is watching?’