by Alice Hunter
‘So, Beth, how are you doing?’ Ellie gushes. ‘Must be an awful shock. I mean … Tom? Do they really think he’s capable of harming that poor girl?’
‘The papers have it all wrong,’ I say, emphatically. ‘I have no idea how they think they can get away with it. Honestly, I didn’t even want to leave the cottage this morning.’ Tears cloud my vision. I feel sympathetic hands on me again as I bury my head in my arms on the table and allow a sob to escape.
‘Oh, my lovely – we’re all here for you; try not to worry. They’ve not charged him, have they?’ Julia asks.
‘No. And once they realise that he has nothing to do with her disappearance, they’ll release him, I’m sure. But everyone will always say there’s no smoke without fire. He’s in the newspaper. His name is tarnished and so is mine now. Low-life journalists. This could ruin our lives.’ Another sob wracks my body.
‘Look, whatever happens, everyone loves this café – you’ve done such a fabulous job and people will continue to come here. Of course there will be gossip, that’s inevitable. But the truth will prevail,’ Julia declares dramatically, as though she’s giving a speech in court. ‘It won’t stop customers coming through these doors, and you and Poppy will be supported, I promise.’
It’s the most interaction I’ve had with the yummy mummy club for the entire two years I’ve lived here. But it’s all well and good them being supportive and lovely while they think Tom’s innocent. They could turn on me just as quickly if the worst happens and he is charged.
He won’t be, the voice in my head tells me.
Thankfully, for now at least, it seems my fear of leaving the cottage this morning was unfounded. Poppy and me – we’re okay for the time being. And if Maxwell does his job, Tom will be released shortly, and this whole situation will diffuse into nothing more than village gossip. Village gossip that will soon be replaced with something else. And actually, I’m finally interesting enough to have been brought into the circle of friends I’ve wanted to infiltrate since moving to Lower Tew. Tom’s shock arrest has brought something positive after all.
The day drags, my mind replaying the chat with the nursery mums on a loop. I try to busy myself clearing tables, wiping down the counter and stacking cups, but I’m counting down the minutes until it’s time to leave and pick Poppy up. My mobile vibrates in my apron pocket. I reach in to get it, but pull my hand back. It’s irresponsible to ignore it, but the thought of what news the call might bring fills me with dread. I’m sure they’ll call back. I’ll face it later.
I fill Lucy in on what happened. Not in any great detail – the same as I didn’t with Julia and the others. The bare minimum to feed their curiosity, that was all.
Lucy goes very quiet afterwards and hardly speaks for the rest of the afternoon. Absolutely no singing – so unlike her. Initially, I thought it was politeness – she didn’t want to appear overly happy or jolly following my news. But I begin to sense there is more to it.
Just as I’m about to leave, I say, ‘You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet, Lucy. You okay?’
She doesn’t look me in the eye when she answers with a brief, ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ I don’t want to push her. A niggling worm of worry burrows inside me. She seems concerned. Why?
I don’t have time to delve deeper into it now. I put on my coat and she gives me a weak smile and says she’ll see me in the morning. I’m uneasy when I leave, and I can’t ignore the repeating thought in my mind: Lucy doesn’t believe Tom is innocent.
I have a feeling she’s not alone.
Chapter 14
BETH
Now
While I walk, I finally look at my phone. It was Maxwell who’d called – several times by the look of it. Texts, too, asking me to contact him. There’s also a missed call from a withheld number. Could that be from Tom? I don’t know that he’s able to make calls, or what I’d want to say to him if he could. That’s if I even want to talk to him – whatever is going on, the police must have something on him to have made the arrest in the first place. If I do speak to him, no doubt my words will be those of anger, upset, hurt – not support. But then, if I don’t do it now, I have no clue when I’ll get the opportunity.
Although I’m tempted to walk to nursery with my head bowed, I don’t. I force myself to keep looking up, glancing around me as I walk briskly. The short journey will take me past home and I wonder if I should pop in first to return Maxwell’s call, in private. No. I’ll continue on; keep reality at bay for just a little longer – I’ll have to listen to what he has to say soon enough. The strong breeze whips up fallen leaves, and cool air pushes into my face. Long, auburn strands of hair blow across my eyes and as I brush them away, I see what’s up ahead.
I stop short.
In the lane outside my cottage, I see numerous vehicles all haphazardly parked, doors flung open, as if abandoned in haste.
Police cars.
My body shakes as I stand frozen to the spot, gawping at the scene. I force my weak legs to move towards them.
What the hell’s going on?
A car comes screeching up behind me. I turn sharply, almost hoping it might plough into me, but it comes to an abrupt halt. I chastise myself for even allowing that kind of thinking. Poppy needs me.
Maxwell bursts from the driver’s door, his face beetroot red. ‘I’ve been calling non-stop.’ His voice is stern. At first, I’m affronted that he’s telling me off and I want to tell him that I have had a lot of things to deal with today and was just about to phone him, but the situation is clearly grave and I refrain. He slams the door, swoops past me and heads to the uniformed police officers at the entrance to my home. A few words are exchanged, then I see a smartly dressed, stiff-postured woman with strawberry-blonde hair approach him. She shows him a piece of paper, which he rips from her hand, studies for a few seconds, then gives back to her.
He heads towards me. I’ve barely moved. My pulse thuds as he informs me they have a search warrant to seize and retain anything in the property which could relate to the murder charge. I’m numb as I hand over my key.
What are they expecting to find?
Chapter 15
TOM
Now
‘I’ll ask again,’ DI Manning says, his ruddy face displaying his exasperation. ‘Where were you? We know you didn’t show up to work.’
‘No comment.’ I can’t believe I’ve uttered that phrase. I want to hang my head, slap myself. The word ‘guilty’ screams repeatedly in my mind. God, if I were watching this interview on the TV in the safety of my lounge, I’d be about ready to launch the remote at the screen. At my stupid face. I don’t think I have any other choice though; Maxwell is adamant I should shut up from here on in, and although I’ve gone against his earlier advice, now it seems my best, and only, recourse. I mustn’t give them anything further that they can use against me.
‘CCTV footage didn’t show you at your usual train station and your work colleagues had no knowledge of your whereabouts. You aren’t being forthcoming as to whether you had any other appointments,’ DC Cooper runs through the list. ‘It isn’t looking good for you, Tom – all this secrecy the day after you were questioned about Katie Williams just adds fuel to the fire. If you cooperate now, it’ll be looked upon more favourably than if you refuse to speak. This no comment nonsense makes you seem guilty as charged.’ Her cold eyes are boring deep into mine. I wonder if she has a partner. She doesn’t wear a wedding band. Wouldn’t surprise me if she were single, living alone with just a cat for company – if she ever actually leaves this place. Lonely. Bitter and twisted. In need of a good seeing to. I turn away from her.
‘The evidence against you is mounting, Tom. My officers have been to your home and searched through your belongings. What’s the betting they’re now in possession of more evidence to add to our file?’ Manning taps the fat cardboard folder in front of him. It’s probably filled with blank sheets of paper – another game they’re playing to make me talk – but his words do
cause a burning sensation in my gut. Coppers raiding through my stuff. Traipsing through my rooms, trawling through items of Beth’s and Poppy’s and bagging them up for no reason? My nostrils flare as I attempt to control my breathing. I make fists under the table, push them into my thighs until it hurts.
‘Hit a nerve?’ DC Cooper says. ‘Worried about what we’ve secured? Because it’s my guess you hadn’t thought about Katie Williams in quite some time before DI Manning here came knocking on your door. It’s my guess you thought you’d got away with it. Got complacent in your idyllic life with your pretty wife and daughter. You certainly weren’t expecting something you’d escaped justice for eight years ago to rear its head and cause you problems now, were you? Which means you’ve not been as meticulous as you should’ve been – you got lulled into a false sense of security. So, I’m betting you’ve left vital clues. Things you assumed were irrelevant, things you thought only you would know the meaning of, for us to pick up and piece together now. It’s surprising how inconspicuous, innocuous, something can look until you have something else to add. Then the picture begins to take shape.’
Shut up, shut up, shut up! I have to bite the inside of my cheek, hard, to stop the words leaving. The sanctimonious bitch. Why is Manning letting her take the lead here? He’s the superior. My stomach twists at her words. I dumped my work laptop, but I couldn’t find my iPad – I’d rushed out of the house Tuesday morning and assumed I’d be able to find it later on, only they’d got to me before I could. Shit.
If Beth had been home when I’d called from the station that evening, I might’ve been able to get her to agree to get rid of it for me. Although that in itself would’ve caused various issues.
‘What are our tech guys going to retrieve from your phone or from your home computer, I wonder? When did you last communicate with Katie? Will your emails back up your claim she went travelling?’
I open my mouth to launch into a rant, but Maxwell’s hand shoots in front of me – a warning. I hiss the words through my gritted teeth: ‘No. Comment.’ A bead of sweat trickles down my face, and I try to wipe it away without them noticing. The bitch, Cooper – she does though. She smirks and I have the urge to punch her. I look past her, focusing on the wall behind. I visualise Beth, Poppy and me as a family in our perfect cottage. I will have that again. If I keep level-headed.
If they don’t find anything on my iPad.
If they don’t uncover the truth about where I was on Tuesday.
Chapter 16
BETH
Now
The woman I saw earlier is standing stiffly outside my front door as I walk down the path. Poppy is grasping my hand tightly. Or I might be the one holding hers tight.
‘Mrs Hardcastle,’ she says. ‘I’m Detective Constable Imogen Cooper. I’m from Major Investigation Team 8 in the Homicide and Major Crime Command, working with DI Manning. Here’s your key back.’ She stretches out her arm. ‘I locked up – I was going to come and find you,’ she says, dropping the key into my palm. Imogen Cooper is petite, but her stance is assured and I’d bet she’s tougher than she appears. She must have to be in her line of work.
‘Well, no need now.’ I clasp the key in my hand and make to move past the detective.
‘I’m sorry.’ She steps in front of me so that I can’t rush inside. ‘I realise this feels like an intrusion. Has to be done, I’m afraid.’
‘Sure,’ I say. I don’t want to talk about this in front of Poppy really. ‘How … er … is it, in there?’ I nod towards the cottage.
‘Oh, we’ve taken what we need at this time. Tried not to make it look as though a herd of elephants has stampeded through. But you know …’ She smiles awkwardly.
Great. So, it’s a total mess, then. And the words ‘at this time’ sound ominous.
I shake my head and sigh loudly.
‘Has Maxwell Fielding spoken to you?’
‘No, not yet. I was in a rush to get Poppy.’
‘Right.’ DC Cooper puts her hands in her trouser pockets and lowers her gaze to Poppy. ‘We’ve had a little game inside your house,’ she says, attempting a smile. ‘I’m sorry we might have made a bit of a mess that your mummy will need to clear up. Grown-ups aren’t always great at putting things away; they can be a bit clumsy.’
DC Cooper’s face tilts up, her eyes meeting mine. My pulse skips. She side-steps me and I take my opportunity to shoot inside.
I hear her say, ‘I’ll see you soon,’ as I close the door. For a moment, I stand with my back against it, taking stock. Shaking.
From the way she was acting, from what she said, I’m guessing they found what they were looking for.
Chapter 17
BETH
Now
It feels such a violation knowing that police officers have been in my cottage, in my bedroom, touching my things. I didn’t have time to hang around to witness them filing out with plastic bags full of Tom’s things, maybe even my things. I’d had to leave to get Poppy from nursery. It was probably better not to watch anyway. I’d only have been fretting about what they were looking for; what they’d find.
I can’t immediately tell what they’ve taken – each room is in varying degrees of disarray. Rushing around the cottage, all I can tell is that it seems as though they’ve been thorough. Hopefully that means they won’t be back, despite Cooper’s words. Thankfully, they’ve been less careless in Poppy’s room, I notice. I flit around, straightening the toys on her bed, closing drawers and cupboards. I gather some of her discarded clothes and bundle them quickly into the wardrobe. It’ll do for now.
Our bedroom is in a greater state of chaos, as is the kitchen. The main computer has gone, and I can’t see Tom’s iPad – those are the obvious items, the ones I fully expected them to seize. Nonetheless, a violent shudder runs through me. This situation is going to get worse, and I’m afraid of being taken down along with Tom: dragged into a spiralling vortex. I need to think about what I can do to prevent the total destruction of my family. As far as I know, they still don’t have Katie Williams’ body, so I can’t see how they’ve enough evidence to link Tom to her and keep him in custody. Maxwell clearly isn’t telling me everything, but according to him what they have so far is shaky. It must be enough to keep them investigating, though. Enough for a jury to condemn Tom to life in prison? I can’t see it. Unless they have found Katie – and in some way linked Tom to her, although God knows how – then surely they won’t have a case. I must research similar cases, see what the outcome has been for those accused of murder in the absence of a body.
After a quick meal for Poppy, and a microwave dinner-for-one for me, I put Poppy to bed and go back downstairs to continue tidying the kitchen. I managed the lounge and hallway within half an hour of getting home; the utility and the rest of upstairs are next on the list. As I slide paperwork back into the drawer set aside for utility bills and other important post, I realise some bank statements are missing. We have a joint account, but Tom also has another separate one. He’s always had it, and although I closed mine when we married, we kept his to use for emergencies. As far as I am aware, the last time it was used was when I bought the kiln for Poppy’s Place, as I’d run out of money thanks to some unexpected rewiring. I don’t see how recent statements, which probably don’t even show any transactions, would be of any help to the police for something that happened eight years ago.
A knocking at the door jolts me out of my thoughts.
Chapter 18
BETH
Now
Maxwell is sitting opposite me, elbows resting on the kitchen table, his large, amber-coloured eyes trained on mine. My hands are gripped together in front of me, my fingers turning red as I squeeze them while I wait for him to ‘bring me up to speed’.
‘The police have been granted an extension, I’m afraid, Beth. I warned you this might be the case, and of course I fought against it, but after the search warrant, I was expecting it.’
‘I don’t understand, Maxwell.’ I
shake my head, then lower my chin into my cupped hands. He’s not giving me the full picture, I know it. What isn’t he telling me? ‘I thought after tonight, they’d release him, and he’d be back home.’
‘Yes, I know, I’m sorry.’ He looks weary; it’s been a long day for him too, no doubt. ‘It’s not ideal. It’ll be reviewed in the morning then, if they want it, a further extension for the full ninety-six hours will have to be sought from the magistrate. Anyway, DI Manning and DC Cooper will want to question you, Beth. So you should be prepared.’ He’s using a gentle voice – no doubt reserved for distressed relatives and distraught spouses. People like me.
My mouth dries and my tongue sticks to its roof. I take a sip from my glass of water. I’ve made Maxwell a coffee, but I couldn’t face one myself. Even though the caffeine hit might be welcome after this impossibly long day, it would mean I’d be awake all night. ‘Right,’ I say, recovering from the initial bad news. ‘That’s fine. Although, I’m not sure what they think I can add. Surely he’s given them everything?’
‘They’ll ask what you know about Katie Williams: things Tom has told you.’ Maxwell sweeps over my question and I wonder just what Tom has told them. ‘They’ll also want to get a feel for what Tom is like as a person. Answer their questions with as little detail as possible.’
‘As little? Why? Wouldn’t it be better to be as detailed as I can be?’
‘No. The more info you give them, the more rope they’ll have to hang him.’
I sit back hard against my chair, my mouth slack.
‘Oh, sorry,’ he says quickly. ‘Poor choice of words. You know what I mean. Just give them yes and no answers where possible and keep any description succinct. If you waffle on, it’s more likely you’ll say something that could possibly incriminate him.’
