It might.
At 11.05 p.m. the police rang to say the phone number was from a public call box in Blossom Street, and had Sarah and Bob been in touch with Emily’s grandparents? Might she have gone there?
They hadn’t. Sarah and Bob each rang their parents, spreading the ripples of anxiety further. No, of course Emily wasn’t with them. Bob rang the police and asked testily what they were doing now? At 1.00 a second police car with a uniformed sergeant arrived to ask many of the same questions, and probe further. Which were her closest friends? When had Bob spoken to them? Had Emily ever been out longer than expected, or with someone they didn’t know? Where exactly did she like to go for walks?
The man was serious, concerned, avuncular. They would make some enquiries of her friends, he said, and if she still hadn’t turned up by morning a proper search would be considered.
‘Considered?’ Bob asked. ‘Meaning what, exactly?’
‘Well, sir, we need to know where to look, really. I mean if you said she had gone out to a particular place we could start from there, but it’s not as simple in this case, is it? But we’ll do our best. Her description’s already been circulated.’
Then he, too, left. Neither Bob nor Sarah smoked so they were reduced to pacing up and down, arguing, drinking coffee. Then at two o’clock Sarah remembered Simon! That was it of course — it had to be! Emily and Simon weren’t particularly close but surely Emily had said something about him that morning. What was it now? ‘I’ll be like Simon — he’s happy, at least!’
‘Why didn’t you mention that before?’ Bob asked, aghast.
‘I don’t know, I just … didn’t,’ she faltered.
‘Didn’t think, more like,’ said Bob angrily. ‘OK, I’ll give him a ring.’
‘No, Bob, I’ll do it. He’s my son!’
‘And she’s my daughter! You’ve done enough damage today already!’ He walked out to the phone in the hall. ‘If she is there I’ll give that boy a piece of my mind. This is the very last time he’s going to screw up our lives, I promise you that!’
Sarah sat down and thought, how could we be so stupid? Of course it must be Simon — why was I blocking it out? Is he so very distant from me as well as Bob now, that we don’t think of him at all in a situation like this? At least I know where she is now. She’s with Simon, she’s not a bloody corpse in some field somewhere. The relief was so great it flooded through her. Prize idiots we’re going to look when we tell the police!
She slumped on the sofa, listening for Bob’s voice in the hall. Why does he blame me for all this — it’s not just my fault, surely? If this is what they call a bad patch in your marriage I hope it doesn’t get any worse. Then she heard Bob talking.
‘You’re quite sure … you’re telling me the truth now, Simon … if I come round there and find she’s been with you I’ll … yes, okay … no, I don’t think you need to do that …’
He stood in the doorway with a wild expression on his face and said: ‘She’s not there.’
‘What? You’ve got to be joking.’
‘No, I’m not. Unless he’s lying, but I don’t think he is. He swears he hasn’t seen her, in fact he seemed quite upset when he got over the shock. He wanted to come over here but I said not to bother.’
‘Whyever not? He might help.’
‘I don’t see how. Anyway she’s not with him, Sarah — he hasn’t seen her.’
‘Oh God, no.’ She moaned as the full realisation hit her.
‘Yes. Yes I’m afraid so. Where the hell can she be?’
‘I don’t know. I wish I did but I don’t.’
And so the nightmare continued. When Terry Bateson arrived just before 9 a.m. Sergeant Hendry was already there. He had sent two officers along the river bank behind the house, and four more were making enquiries round the village. Bob had just come in from the riverbank wearing an anorak and rubber boots. He was pale and unshaven. He gazed bitterly at Terry.
‘And who the hell might you be?’
Terry showed his card. ‘We’ve met before, actually, Mr Newby. At the judge’s ball.’
‘Have we? Well, that doesn’t matter now. What I need is someone to find my daughter.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Terry followed him into the living room where Sarah sat, her hands clasped round a cup of coffee. To his surprise she was wearing black motorcyclist’s trousers, jacket and boots. Her face was pale, with dark bruises of sleeplessness round her eyes. She didn’t appear to notice him.
‘Hello, Sarah. I’m sorry to hear about all this.’
She looked up, startled. ‘Oh, it’s you. Hello, Terry.’
He glanced at Bob. ‘Your wife and I work together sometimes at the courts, Mr Newby.’ Where she shows the world how useless I am. Well, the boot’s on the other foot now.
‘Yes, no doubt. Well, what are you going to do?’
‘I’ve only just come on duty, sir, I’m afraid. I need to know all the facts.’
‘For God’s sake! She’s been missing nearly twenty four hours and they send a complete newcomer on the case!’
Sergeant Hendry intervened. ‘DI Bateson is the most senior officer to be involved so far, sir. If we set up a full scale search he’ll be the man to co-ordinate it.’
‘Yes, all right. Let’s get on with it then. For all we know every minute counts.’ As Hendry explained the details Terry scrutinized Bob and decided that a display of anger and nervous energy was the only way he had of coping with the situation. A cocktail of fear and despair drove him to constantly interrupt the sergeant, creating more confusion rather than less. Sarah, on the other hand, sipped her coffee in silence, apparently withdrawn into herself.
The basic rule in child disappearances was: first look for the child, then look for the problem. If the child hasn’t simply had an accident or got lost then there must be a reason for its running away, and very often the reason had something to do with family conflicts.
Was there a conflict here? The father pacing up and down manically, the wife silent. Neither offering the other any comfort, hardly looking at each other. Probably. After all, he knew from personal experience what a bitch the wife could be.
‘You’re quite sure, Mr Newby, there’s nothing else your daughter might have said or done to indicate where she might be now?’
‘I’ve told you that — no! Not that I can think of.’
‘And there was no unusual quarrel or family row yesterday?’
‘Not with me, anyway. Emily was worried about her exams, and I asked Sarah to talk to her before she went to work. She was supposed to comfort her but I don’t know what she said.’
‘I told her to stick to her revision plan and she’d be all right. I promised to ring her at lunchtime, which I did.’ In comparison to her husband’s voice Sarah’s was perfectly calm and controlled. But that was the danger of it, Terry thought, wryly. It was the same controlled, deadly voice she had deployed against him in the witness box yesterday, when his friendly lunch companion had transformed herself into a razor-tongued witch. If that was how she behaved as a mother, God knows how many emotional wounds her daughter had.
Terry shut his notebook. ‘All right. I think I’ve got the picture. It seems sergeant Hendry has done all the correct things so far. When your men come back from the river, Tom, we’ll put them on house to house enquiries with the others — it’s not a big village, someone must have seen her if she was about yesterday. Get onto the bus company too, see which drivers came here yesterday and show them her photo. Then I want to check that phone box where the call came from …’
‘How on earth will that help?’ Bob interrupted irritably. ‘If it’s a public phone anyone could have used it.’
‘Yes, sir, of course. But it’s our only real clue so far, and unless it’s at the station or in the city centre it probably has its own group of regular users. Most public phones do. So I’ll check that, and then I’ll need to talk to that son of yours, Sa … Mrs Newby.’
It didn’t seem right to use her first name, in front of her husband. But the surname felt awkward too.