Somer smiles. `I'll get you a tea.'
`Three sugars,' he calls to her retreating back. `And a Twix.'
* * *
Fiona is spooning cereal into bowls when she looks up to see Patsie at the kitchen door. She's still in her pyjamas and has her phone in her hand. But that's nothing unusual. She always has her phone in her hand. Like Sasha did `“
Not `did', she tells herself, `does'. Like Sasha does.
`You want milk or yogurt on this, Pats?'
The girl shrugs. There are dark circles under her eyes and Fiona suppresses the urge to ask if she's getting enough sleep. She's not Patsie's mum. Though sometimes, these last few months, she might as well be, the amount of time Patsie spends over here. Sasha hinted more than once that there might be a problem with Denise's new boyfriend, and Fiona was in two minds about asking Patsie if that was true, but she didn't want Denise to think she was interfering. And now `“ well, now she has more than enough troubles of her own.
She takes the bowls to the table and sits down. She isn't hungry `“ hasn't been hungry since it happened `“ but she'll be no good to Sasha if she doesn't eat. Something else she keeps telling herself. Along with how she's going to cut down on the red wine as soon as Sash is back. It'll be easy then, but today, this minute, it's the only thing that takes the edge off. Patsie comes slowly to the table and slides on to a chair, then reaches for the carton of milk in the centre of the table. Fiona's stillness must have communicated itself to her because she looks up and smiles, a weak, brave, sad little smile. Fiona feels the tears burn her eyes and reaches out and grips the girl's hand. Thank God for you, she thinks. Thank God you're here. Because if you weren't, there'd be no one to stop me going over to the cupboard right this minute and opening another bloody bottle.
* * *
Everett is the only person in the ladies' loo on the first floor, staring at her reflection in the mirror. There's an odd distortion in the middle of her left eye that's been getting worse ever since she left the flat. Not blurring or double vision `“ it's more elusive than that. Almost as if there's nothing there at all; even though that makes no sense and she couldn't begin to describe what it looks like to someone else. But it's like that, all the same. She's never had a migraine before, but she's guessing that's what this must be. She doesn't have a headache as such `“ not the Nurofen-grabbing kind anyway. No flashing lights either, just a vague but heavy sense of unease. There's a noise at the door and Somer comes in. She smiles when she sees Ev, but something in her friend's face brings her up short.
`Are you all right?'
Everett does her best to smile. `Yeah, just feeling a bit off. Must have been that curry last night.'
Somer frowns a little; she can't remember Everett ever eating curry. `You sure?'
Ev nods. `Absolutely. What about you, everything OK?'
Somer gives a wry smile. `Just dumped another crap job on poor old Baxter. He's exacting intravenous confectionery by way of recompense.'
Everett manages a smile. `What is it this time?'
`We just got a new witness who saw a white van on the Marston Ferry Road the morning Faith was abducted. She remembered it had some sort of logo but it isn't giving Baxter much to go on. I mean `њa bit like a shell`ќ could mean just about anything.'
Everett turns from the mirror. `What sort of shell?'
`A snail, apparently. All I keep thinking is Brian from The Magic Roundabout `“' She stops, mid-smile. `What?'
Ev fishes her phone out of her pocket, swipes to the web, then holds it out. `Is it possible it was this?'
Somer's eyes widen. `Oh my God. Shit `“ yes.'
Ev takes a deep breath. `Email this over to your witness and ask her. And then we need to find Fawley.'
* * *
Adam Fawley
5 April 2018
09.19
I'm still in the shower when the doorbell goes. By the time I make it downstairs ten minutes later Somer and Everett are standing awkwardly in the kitchen as Alex fiddles about with the kettle. Fussing is not like her, but it's obvious enough why she's doing it now: she wasn't expecting company and she's wearing a favourite but now tight-fitting jumper which makes it quite obvious she's pregnant. When Somer catches my eye she looks quickly away, her face flushed; she must be remembering what she said a couple of days ago. About the reasons people might not tell the whole truth.
`Oh, Adam `“ there you are,' says Alex with manifest relief. `I'll leave you to it.'
`Sir,' says Somer as soon as the kitchen door closes, `the other day, I didn't mean `“'
`Forget it `“ it's not important. What is it?'
`We may have something,' says Everett. `Remember Ashley Brotherton?'
I frown. `I thought we'd discounted him?'
`We did.'
`So what's changed?' I look at Somer and then back at Everett. `He had an alibi, didn't he? His bloody van had an alibi.'
`A woman rang in first thing this morning,' says Somer. `She said she saw a van on the Marston Ferry Road the morning Faith was attacked. She didn't remember much apart from the fact that the van was white and had a logo like a shell on the side. Baxter's been trying to track it down but it was looking like a wild goose chase. Only then `“'
`Only then Erica mentioned it to me,' says Everett. She holds out her mobile. It's a picture of a van, and even though the logo on the side isn't a shell, I can see why you might remember it that way, especially if you only got a glimpse. It's a ram's head with a huge curling horn. In profile. And below it a five-bar gate surrounded by daffodils that looks like something out of Enid Blyton.
Ramsgate Renovations. The same company Ashley Brotherton works for.
`I emailed it to the witness,' says Somer, `and she's fairly sure this is what she saw. Not a hundred per cent, but pretty certain.'
`And the only Ramsgate van that could have been on the Marston Ferry Road that morning is the one Ashley Brotherton drives,' Everett reminds me. `All the rest are accounted for.'
`But even if it was his vehicle,' says Somer, `it can't have been him. Fifty different people put him at the Headington crematorium that morning.'
`So either he's worked out how to be in two places at the same time or he let someone else borrow that van.'
`It's the most obvious explanation,' says Ev. `Though he told me point-blank that no one else could have been driving it that day.'
`Then it's someone he cares about `“ someone he's prepared to lie for. A relative? A mate? A mate who could be that mystery boyfriend of Sasha's we still haven't ID'd? Maybe that's the connection between those two girls.'
`It wouldn't even need to be a boyfriend,' says Somer. `It could just be someone she met once or twice `“ someone she thought it was safe to get into a vehicle with.'
`Or he could have just attacked her from behind and dragged her off the street,' says Ev grimly. `Like he did to Faith. He didn't have to actually know either of them. They could simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.'
But I'm not so sure.
`Sasha, yes, absolutely. That had to be random `“ there's no way anyone could have known she'd be in that precise spot that night. But Faith was different: I think that was premeditated. I think the person who assaulted her planned it very carefully, and that may well have included making damn sure he wasn't in his own vehicle when he did it.'