Page 42

CHAPTER 42

MATTHEW – D AY F OUR

It’s 8 a.m. before Matthew finally makes it home. No way did he want to head home sooner and pretend to sleep. He’s been driving round and also grabbed food in an all-night café.

It’s a relief that Sally now has Carol to support her. He finds them together in the kitchen – dressed but both looking exhausted.

‘Carol,’ he says. ‘It’s good you’re here. Thank you.’

She just nods. Face grave.

‘Any news?’ Sally is at the breakfast bar.

‘Only what I told you in the text. The things from the CCTV we’re following up.’ Matthew takes in his wife’s pale skin. ‘You didn’t sleep again?’ He reaches out to touch Sally’s arm, tilting his head and locking eyes. They’ve stopped hugging this past twenty-four hours. Do you mind if we don’t hug. It was Sally who said it first, lying fully clothed on their bed. A part of him understands – hugging no longer a comfort. A bigger part cannot bear it.

Sitting in that all-night café, he was wondering what will happen to them. Him and Sally, the couple who cannot bear to hold each other, if ...

Matthew closes down the thought. Keeps his gaze fixed on Sally, his hand still rested on her arm. Finally she pulls back and shakes her head. ‘You look as if you didn’t sleep either. Where have you been? I’ve been worried.’

‘Driving. Liaising with the team.’

‘Let me make you a coffee and you can tell me more about this CCTV.’ Sally pushes back her bar stool.

‘I’ll do it.’ Carol springs to her feet and heads over to the espresso machine but Sally moves too. ‘No, really. I’d like to do it.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m here to help.’ Carol flicks the switch on the machine but Sally interrupts again. ‘No really, Carol. Let me.’

There’s an awkward pause and both Sally and Matthew stare at the ground.

‘Oh, right.’ Carol glances from one to the other. ‘No problem. Of course. I’m sorry; I’ll give you guys some space. Grab a shower.’

Both Sally and Matthew keep their eyes fixed on the kitchen floor tiles as Carol leaves the room. They wait for footsteps on the stairs. The sound of the guest room door and then the bathroom door.

‘She’s been great,’ Sally says at last, looking up.

‘Yes. I’ve found it a big help, knowing she’s with you. What about the FLO? Molly?’

‘She’s coming back a bit later. Ten, I think. I told her to take her kids to school today. She has two boys, you know. I feel bad that she’s away from them. The long hours.’

Matthew doesn’t answer. He feels that surge of jealousy which is becoming common every time he thinks of anyone with their own family. It feels bitter and wrong, the jealousy. But he can’t help himself.

He looks at the light on the coffee machine, waiting for it to turn green.

‘I worry about you driving around at night.’

‘I know. But I promise I’m careful.’

‘So, tell me everything. What’s the latest on the car park witness? And the CCTV. So brilliant that you found something on the tapes.’ Sally’s voice is thin. She’s trying to sound upbeat, optimistic, but for all the pretence, the tone is strained. Distant. Just filling the silence between them. The numbness which he is so afraid will swallow up everything he has always loved. Amelie. And now Sally too?

‘It’s being followed up today. The driver saw a man carrying a girl in a green dress. I told you that on the phone.’ He waits as Sally nods. ‘But he didn’t see which car they went to. The cameras didn’t pick it up. Out of their range.’

‘Why didn’t the witness step in? Do something? A man carrying a girl. Surely—’

‘The man gave him a story about diabetes. Said the girl was just a little faint. Needed some sugar. He was convincing. The witness feels terrible. Mel is following it all up again today. She’s holding a big breakfast briefing with the team and will update us. At least it’s something. And I take it they have a description of the guy.’

‘Yeah?’

The light flicks to green and Matthew places two cups under the spout. ‘You want one too?’

Sally nods. ‘Black please. So the description. Does it match Adam Meadows? What’s Mel saying?’

‘The description is quite broad. But they’re interviewing Adam Meadows again and repeating the search of his property.’

‘You think they might have missed something? Didn’t do it properly?’

‘No. Not that. But when there’s a witness update like this, they tend to cross the t’s and dot the i’s. Run the checks again.’

Sally clinches her right hand into a fist and taps her lips with it. ‘I’ve been googling.’

‘Hey. I told you not to do that.’ Matthew looks at his wife, feeling the stab of concern growing. ‘It’s a rabbit hole. It won’t help.’

‘No. Googling stories that turned out OK. Positive stories. Missing people who turned up.’

‘Right. I still think it’s best to stay away from the internet, Sally.’ Matthew turns back to the machine and lets the two cups fill and turns off the switch, carefully passing one cup to his wife, whose eyes suddenly look wilder. He’s afraid to ask what she’s been reading. There’s a huge range of stories out there. Some of them terrible. He knows because he googles every day himself.

‘One of the stories said a girl was found years later. But she was never the same. And I was thinking—’

Matthew reaches out with his left hand to touch Sally’s shoulder. And then her face. He can see that she’s going to cry. Again, he badly wants to hold her tight but instead keeps his hand on her shoulder. ‘That’s what I mean. It won’t help. Raking over other cases. We just have to hang on to hope. Keep ourselves focused on our Amelie.’

And then suddenly his phone rings. Matthew takes it from his pocket. ‘It’s Mel.’

He puts the phone straight to his ear, Sally’s eyes still wide, clearly trying to read his face. He can hardly believe what Mel is saying.

‘They’ve found Dawn.’ Matthew speaks over Mel, leaning in toward Sally and putting his cup on the kitchen surface. ‘Sorry, Mel. Yes. I’m still listening. Just updating Sally. She’s right here with me.’

Mel won’t give details. Keeps the call short. She shares that both Adam and Dawn will be brought in for questioning. She promises the whole team’s in overdrive. She’ll update if there’s any news. Anything at all.

Matthew is putting the phone back in his pocket when it buzzes with a text. He reads it on the locked screen and tries to keep his face neutral.

‘What is it? Mel again?’ Sally’s eyes are unblinking.

‘No. Nothing important.’ Matthew puts the phone back in his pocket and realises he doesn’t have long.

To decide.