Page 66

CHAPTER 66

SALLY – D AY F IVE

Sally thought she had known the worst that fear could be. But standing on the high ground, looking down at the caravan, she realises that only now does she understand the true darkness fear can deliver.

It’s so paralysing, this new terror, that she can imagine her heart stopping. The blood unable to pump. All the muscles and all of her insides numbed. Inert.

On the drive, Matthew sent a voice message: ‘Sally. I am so ashamed and so sorry. I will never forgive myself for what I said to you. I didn’t mean it. I lashed out because the truth is I blame myself. Not you. Myself. I failed to keep you both safe and that is completely unbearable to me. I love you, Sally. And I’m so sorry.’

She played it over and over as Molly drove them here. To this awful place. This vantage point. The grim and dilapidated caravan below them in a clearing near a wood.

The helicopter has just moved away. There are police marksmen positioned all around. Uniformed teams too.

Matthew is several yards to her right, being guarded by an officer. He’s already tried once to surge forward and been restrained. Molly has warned her too that she mustn’t move forward.

Sally looks across at her husband and takes in the agony on his face. She thinks of his message. Of so many pictures of him with Amelie over the years. Up on his shoulders at the beach. Him swirling her around in her dance tutu. Something inside her breaks and so very slowly she walks across to him. Molly follows.

For a moment Sally and Matthew just stand side by side. Tears start dripping down Sally’s cheeks as they just stare at the scene, numb and terrified. Waiting and willing a glimpse of Amelie. And then very slowly she reaches out with her hand. To take his.

They don’t say anything at first. But after a time he turns his head. ‘I’m so sorry. What I said—’

‘Shhh. It doesn’t matter. None of that matters now.’ She squeezes his hand, and he grips it back tightly and lets out a sort of moan.

‘Is he armed?’ Sally asks at last. She looks at the caravan again. A rusty and neglected structure. She imagines it cold and damp and dirty inside. Imagines Amelie cold and damp and dirty inside. Seeing the police all around she thinks that the kidnapper must have a gun. All ... these ... marksmen .

‘Yes. He’s armed,’ Matthew whispers. Then suddenly he tries again to surge forward but this time the officer intervenes much more firmly. Holds him tight.

‘I told you, sir. You must stay here. DI Sanders’ orders. This is your last warning. Or I’ll take you back to the cars.’

Sally reaches again to take Matthew’s hand. Understands better. If she had been given Dawn Meadows’ address, she would probably have gone there too. This waiting and this watching – this sense of being so helpless and useless – is completely unbearable.

Truth is she wants to run down there herself. To pound on the door of that dilapidated caravan. Tell the man that if he wants to shoot someone, shoot me. Not her. Take ... me.

She looks down and sees wildflowers in the grass. Their delicate colours – pink and yellow against the myriad of greens – all wrong. She puts her left foot over them and twists her heel. Turns back to the scene.

Every now and again the loudhailer voice punches through the silence.

‘No one will be hurt. If you come out slowly with your hands up. All of you.’

It is not Mel’s voice. Matthew whispers that it’s a trained negotiator. John Miles’ phone is either out of battery or he is refusing to pick up. He’s been getting snippets of information from the police guarding him. In touch by radio.

‘They’ve spoken to the farmer who owns the land,’ Matthew adds. ‘He says the caravan has no electricity now. Hasn’t been used in years.’

‘Oh no. She’ll be so cold.’

Matthew puts his arm around Sally’s shoulder and meets her eyes. She doesn’t pull away. He tells her more of what he knows. That the farmer used to let it to John Miles and his wife when their daughter Olivia was small. He had known Miles’ father, also a farmer, when they were younger.

The caravan was left on site while the owner’s family made a decision whether to diversify. Invest in more caravans and a shower block. Or clear the old one away. No one noticed the Volvo. No one noticed that anyone was on site at all.

‘How long will they wait before going in, Matthew?’

‘I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.’ This time he doesn’t look at her as he speaks. His gaze fixed on the caravan.

Sally watches Mel, in the middle of a police huddle behind a van some distance from the caravan. The command position? Mel seems to be on her radio and Sally wonders what she’s saying. Terrified they will storm the caravan. Imagines gunshots and screaming.

There was a drone earlier when she and Molly first arrived. They watched it float on the air like a hawk, circling the caravan after the helicopter left. Matthew tells her it was trying to get a view inside the caravan but there’s been no word what it found. All the curtains drawn.

Now the loudhailer again. ‘We can send a drone to the door with a phone. What else do you need?’

There’s no reply. One minute. Two. Three. And then suddenly a man’s voice. ‘We don’t need anything!’ He shouts something else but they can’t make it out. Matthew asks the policeman to check on his radio. What did he say? But the policeman puts his finger to his lips.

Then very suddenly the door of the caravan swings open.