The Sleepover

by Carol Wyer

  Once she’d gone Lucy whispered, ‘Ouch! I think we crossed some line. She’s going to hold out on us now, isn’t she?’

  ‘If she can calm Ellie down, we might find out something else, but I can’t see her giving up any of Roxy’s secrets, even if she knows them. This could be a wasted trip. Listen, why don’t you have a go at questioning her. She might feel more at ease with somebody who’s closer to her own age.’

  ‘If you think so, but I’m not exactly a teenager.’

  ‘You look young enough for her to feel more at ease with you and she might open up if she’s speaking to you rather than me. I’m too much of an authoritative figure. I might be putting her off.’

  The sound of voices drifting in their direction silenced them, and when Ellie came back into the room, Lucy gave her a smile. ‘Thanks for helping us. Do you want any water or anything?’

  The girl refused the offer and sat down again. Her mother dropped down beside her and Lucy took the chair opposite them, brushing the fringe away from her face and uncovering the scar that ran across the bridge of her nose for a second.

  Ellie noticed it. ‘What happened to your face?’

  ‘I got in the way of somebody waving a smashed bottle,’ Lucy replied.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Could have been worse.’ She waited a heartbeat then casually said, ‘Roxy suffered a few injuries too, didn’t she? I bet she had a few scars too.’

  The girl shrugged a response.

  ‘Tell me about her. What was she like?’

  Ellie blinked. ‘Funny. Brave.’

  ‘Brave?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Lots of ways. She wasn’t scared of much.’

  ‘And she was a good friend?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You knew her better than anyone, Ellie. Can you think of who she might have gone to see yesterday?’

  Her head swayed like a slow pendulum.

  ‘Did you see Roxy often?’

  ‘Most days.’

  ‘But not yesterday?’

  Her eyes filled up again. ‘No. I was with Mum all day. We went shopping in Derby, and after we got home, I went to the youth centre to hang out like usual. I thought Roxy might be there but she didn’t show up.’

  ‘Were you a little surprised she didn’t show up at the youth centre?’

  ‘Not really. She only came along when she felt like it. It was too babyish for her. We play table tennis and mess about. She didn’t enjoy it much.’

  ‘But you do?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s okay.’

  ‘Did you text her last night from the centre to ask if she was coming?’

  ‘No. There’s no signal in there and I lost track of time.’

  ‘You can’t think where she might have gone, then?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did Roxy have a boyfriend she might have visited?’

  ‘No.’ The reply was a little too quick and accompanied by a further lowering of the head. Ellie wouldn’t meet Lucy’s eyes.

  ‘Thank you, Ellie. You’ve been really helpful.’ Lucy waited for the girl to lift her gaze, and when she did, she asked casually, ‘What time did you get back home from the youth centre?’

  ‘I dunno – nine thirty.’

  Ellie’s mother butted in. ‘Ellie’s responsible. She’s always back at about that time. She goes every Saturday, and I messaged her on WhatsApp at about ten to check she was at home.’

  ‘You answered?’ Lucy asked Ellie.

  ‘Yes, I was watching telly.’

  ‘She did,’ said Jojo.

  ‘And this youth centre is the one on Park Road?’

  ‘That’s the one. Most of the local kids go there. There’s not a lot else for them to do,’ Jojo added.

  Lucy stood up. ‘We’re really very sorry about Roxy. If you can think of anything at all that would give us a pointer as to where she might have gone yesterday, will you let us know? I’m going to leave my card with your mum. Just call me if you think of anything at all. It might be more important than you think and it could help us find out what happened to Roxy.’

  Ellie wriggled under her regard but nodded.

  Natalie thanked them both and added, ‘I’m sure the school will be offering counselling to fellow students once the news is broken, but if you’d like, I’ll ask one of my colleagues to drop by and visit you.’

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ Jojo replied, putting an arm around her daughter. ‘We don’t need anybody else around here.’ The guard was back up and a hardness had crept back into her eyes. It was time to leave.

  Boo was standing with one foot on her scooter next to the staircase as they walked towards it. ‘Is Ellie going to prison like her dad?’ she asked candidly.

  Natalie shook her head.

  ‘She does lots of naughty things.’

  ‘Really?’ Lucy halted and studied the girl with curly dark hair and large brown eyes who seemed very pleased with the sudden attention.

  ‘Uh-huh. She and her friend were smoking downstairs with boys. I came in with Mummy and she told them off for it. They shouldn’t smoke inside a building. It’s dangerous. They said rude words back. That’s naughty, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, but not bad enough to be sent to prison. Is your mum home, Boo?’ Natalie asked.

  The curls shook side to side. ‘She’s out. Nanna’s looking after me.’

  ‘When will she be home?’

  ‘Don’t know. Later,’ she replied, then hearing her name being called, she suddenly took off, speeding along the landing again.

  Lucy’s brows lifted at the rapid departure and commented, ‘She’s quite something, isn’t she?’

  ‘I wonder if Roxy was the other girl smoking downstairs. Hang on a sec.’ Natalie followed after the girl and rapped on her door.

  A thin-faced woman in her late sixties answered, her hand on the door handle in preparation to shut it quickly. Boo materialised, squashed in beside the woman and the doorframe, and looked up keenly at Natalie, who introduced herself and asked if the woman knew Roxy.

  ‘I don’t live here. I don’t often come here. I’m only here to look after Boo while my daughter’s at work. Normally, Boo comes to our house, but my old man’s got a nasty stomach bug and I didn’t want her to catch it. I don’t know any of the kids around here by name.’

  ‘Not even Ellie?’

  ‘Course you know Ellie, Nanny,’ Boo piped up. ‘Her dad robbed a shop and had a gun.’

  The woman’s face scrunched up in disgust. ‘Oh, her.’

  ‘Roxy was her best friend. You might have seen them together.’ Natalie showed her a photo of Roxanne. The woman squinted hard at the picture. ‘I might have but they all look the same to me.’

  ‘What time is your daughter due back? I’d like to ask her about Roxy.’

  The woman’s demeanour was frosty and her hand remained on the door handle. ‘Teatime – about five.’

  ‘Well, thank you for your time.’

  The woman nodded once and shut the door quickly. Natalie joined Lucy, who was waiting at the top of the stairs.

  ‘No joy there. Might ask Boo’s mum,’ said Natalie as they clattered down the stairs.

  ‘I think Ellie’s holding back on us. She couldn’t look at me when I asked what time she got in.’

  ‘I noticed that too. She might have been out later than nine thirty, maybe even with one of the boys Boo saw her with, or just hanging about with friends. She was adamant she didn’t see Roxy yesterday so we’ll leave it for now and see what else we can uncover.’

  ‘She could have been lying and was with Roxy,’ said Lucy.

  ‘I’m definitely not ruling out that possibility. We’ll talk to her again if we need to. I’ll check with Murry and see if Gavin and Kirk are on their way to the station. If so, we’ll try Daisy at the tea room.’

  As they crossed the street to the squad car, Natalie glanced back towards the block. Ellie had seemed truly shocked by the news of her fri
end’s death but there was, as Lucy had pointed out, something else suspicious. It came to her in a flash: Ellie hadn’t asked how Roxy had died.

  The Vintage Tea Room was jam-packed when Natalie and Lucy arrived. Several bicycles were propped against a lamp post and the shop window, and a group of cyclists had taken residence inside, tables pushed together. The noise of their laughter carried outside. Natalie opened the door and walked in, ignoring the warmth and the sour smell of sweating bodies. Daisy, in the middle of balancing two plates of cakes and a pot of tea on a tray, looked up. ‘They’re not here. They’ve gone to the police station.’

  She slid out from behind the counter and around the tables with practised ease, and after placing the food and drink on the tables, she exchanged pleasantries and gave a warm smile that faded as she returned to the counter where Lucy and Natalie were standing.

  She wiped the tray over with a cloth, placed it back in position and rearranged some cups. When neither woman moved off she said again, ‘They’re not here.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I’d like you to answer a couple of questions for us.’

  ‘You’re kidding. I’ve got work to do,’ she replied, wiping her hands on a plain beige hand towel.

  Natalie craned her head and looked around the room. ‘It appears everyone’s been served. If you could step outside with us for a few minutes, you’ll still be able to see if you’re needed. It won’t take long.’

  Daisy tossed the towel onto the top and marched to the front door. Once outside, she folded her arms and waited for Natalie and Lucy to join her. They stood in a huddle in front of the door. One of the cyclists who’d been observing them made comment to another, who twisted around briefly to stare at the women. A blank-faced Lucy returned the look until both men went back to their tea-drinking. She pulled out her notebook and Natalie began the questioning. ‘Daisy, you told us earlier you had a bath and went to bed at about ten thirty last night.’

  ‘I did. I’d had a long day.’

  ‘You didn’t fancy joining Gavin at Extravaganza?’

  ‘You’re kidding! I never go there these days.’

  ‘I see,’ said Natalie and added, ‘“These days”. I take it, then, you used to go there?’

  Daisy grimaced. ‘You’ll find out anyway, I suppose. I used to work there. I was one of their hostesses. I worked in the private rooms – served drinks, made sure everyone was happy and spending plenty of money.’

  ‘How long were you there?’

  ‘Over a year.’

  ‘And when did you leave Extravaganza?’

  ‘Two months ago.’

  ‘The Vintage Tea Room is a fairly new venture, then?’

  ‘Yes. It opened in May this year.’

  ‘I don’t suppose a nightclub hostess earns a huge amount. How did you finance it?’

  Daisy shifted from one ballet-style shoe to the other. ‘I got some help.’

  ‘From?’

  ‘Gavin. He loaned me the money for the shop lease and the apartment above it.’

  Lucy interjected, ‘That was good of him.’ She was rewarded with a scowl.

  ‘It was a business arrangement. I’ll pay him back.’

  ‘How much do you owe him?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘None of your business,’ snapped Daisy.

  Lucy made a note before responding. ‘Not a problem. I’m sure we can find out the exact details.’

  Natalie pressed on, ‘It must be hard to find time to spend together, what with Gavin at the nightclub until the early hours and you working days in the tea room.’

  ‘He doesn’t work every night. I’m not being funny but what’s this got to do with their house burning down?’

  Natalie side-stepped the question with a quick, ‘Do you know anyone called Roxanne Curtis?’

  Daisy’s mouth turned down as she appeared to think over the question. ‘Can’t say I’ve heard of her. Does she work at the club?’

  ‘No. She’s a schoolgirl.’

  Daisy pulled a face. ‘I’m not likely to know her then.’

  ‘Don’t you get any schoolkids coming into the tea room?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘It’s not the sort of place they hang out in, not unless they’re with their mums.’

  ‘Do you know Cathy Curtis? Roxanne’s mum?’ She pulled out a photograph to see if Daisy recognised her face, but she stared blankly at it.

  ‘No. I’ve not come across her.’

  Natalie paused a second and then asked, ‘How long have you and Gavin been a couple?’

  The woman’s reactions changed subtly; she covered the front of her throat. Natalie had seen such tell-tale signs before in courtrooms when a defendant would suddenly cover their face, throat or abdomen during questioning – a protective gesture and sure sign that the lawyer had hit a nerve. It was human instinct to cover a vulnerable part of the body. Gestures often told a different story to words spoken. Such was the case with Daisy.

  ‘Eight or nine weeks.’ The fact she couldn’t be sure of when they’d started seeing each other struck Natalie as odd. Couples in fledgling relationships usually knew when they met and had their first date.

  ‘So you’ve been together since May?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Was that after you left the nightclub?’

  Daisy rubbed her throat unconsciously as she spoke. ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We’ve been an official couple since May. Unofficially, we’ve been hanging out for a lot longer.’

  ‘How long exactly?’ Natalie asked.

  The woman shuffled her feet but kept her hand in position. She was clearly uncomfortable with this new line of questioning. ‘Almost a year. About two weeks after I started working at the club, he and I got chatting. He said he fancied me and asked if I’d like to get to know him a bit better.’ She fixed her gaze on the pavement, her hand still in position covering her throat. Her shoulders had risen and her voice had weakened, becoming shallow: more signs of nervousness and feeling tense.

  When she’d first started working for Manchester police, Natalie had attended a course on how to spot obvious lies. She’d learnt that people telling lies could often run out of breath because heart rate and blood flow increased when they were lying. No matter how much somebody could try and convince you with words, their bodies might tell a different story, and such physiological indicators had helped Natalie recognise liars quickly. Daisy was anxious about her relationship with Gavin, but why?

  ‘You didn’t have a boyfriend at the time, then?’

  ‘I’d just come out of a relationship.’

  ‘And Gavin was single?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did Gavin ask you out then?’ Natalie kept her questioning light.

  ‘Yes – the first time was to a pub for a lunchtime drink.’

  ‘And after that?’

  ‘We started seeing each other whenever we were both free, about once a week – meals out, films, trips out – the usual. Then, after about six months, we went away for a weekend in Edinburgh.’

  ‘Why keep it unofficial? It sounds like you’ve been going out together for a long time. Who were you hiding your relationship from? Your ex-boyfriend?’

  ‘No. It wasn’t like that at all. We kept quiet about seeing each other while I was working at the club. Gavin didn’t want anyone, especially the other hostesses, to hear about it and that suited me.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Natalie.

  ‘Some of the girls are right bitches. They’d have said I was chasing after him for his money or some shit like that, and would have made life difficult for me… for us both. You know how women can be.’ Her head cocked to one side, and her fingers rubbed at her throat again.

  Natalie suspected Daisy had been the one who’d really wanted to keep a lid on their relationship. The hostesses might have been right that Daisy’s reasons for cultivating the relationship had been purely financial. She pushed further to expose the truth.

  ‘But they’d b
e wrong, wouldn’t they? He came on to you and invited you out. It wasn’t the other way around,’ Natalie said.

  Daisy’s head bobbed up and down but her eyes weren’t lifted to meet Natalie’s. ‘Yeah, definitely.’

  ‘You don’t sound so sure.’

  ‘Of course, I’m sure. What the hell does it matter anyway? We’re a couple now – an official couple.’

  ‘But you don’t live together?’

  Daisy sighed. ‘I’m not ready for that sort of commitment yet.’

  Natalie gave her a long look. ‘When did he suggest buying you this place?’

  ‘He’s invested in it, not bought it. There’s a difference.’

  ‘When did he suggest investing in the business?’ Natalie said.

  ‘When we were in Edinburgh, six months ago. I told him it was my dream to own a tea shop and he laughed at first then said it was a good dream to have. I didn’t want to always work as a hostess and he knew I was saving up. He said he’d help me find and finance a place, and once I packed in working at Extravaganza, we could become an official couple.’ For someone whose boyfriend had helped her achieve her ambition, she didn’t seem especially happy or content with her lot. Natalie was more certain than ever that Daisy had chased after Gavin for his money, and was now regretting being with him. Could Daisy have set fire to the house, and if so, what motive would she have for doing so? She tested the woman with a fresh question.

  ‘Daisy, can you think of anyone who’d want to burn down Gavin and Kirk’s house?’

  She kept her eyes on the pavement. ‘No idea at all.’

  ‘Can you run through exactly what you did after you shut up the tea room?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We need to establish your exact whereabouts to eliminate you from our enquiries.’

  ‘I didn’t do it! Why would I? This is insane!’

  Natalie waited for the woman to calm down, which she did. She removed her hand from her throat and folded her arms. ‘I went upstairs at about six, ate a chicken salad, poured a glass of wine and watched some television, messaged some mates on WhatsApp and then had a bath. It’s hard work being on your feet all day, seven days a week and sorting out orders, books and so on. It’d been a really busy week and I didn’t feel like doing anything much afterwards.’