The man’s hair is short and Luke recognises those eyes. Is it Craig? Luke doesn’t want to stare but he’s sure it’s the same man he saw at the end of Erica’s street last week.
The car is an old Renault Clio, dark red. It’s only a few feet away.
Luke stops.
What’s Craig doing here? Has he followed Luke? Alan Lucas will have told him that Luke was asking about him. And now they will both know that Luke lied about knowing Craig to get information.
Shit. He must’ve seen him with his children. Luke feels dizzy, like he’s going to be sick. He rests his legs against the garden wall on his right.
Car horns sound from behind the Renault.
Craig shakes his head at Luke.
Luke sits fully on the wall. His hands are shaking as he gets out his mobile phone, taking a picture of the car as it screeches away.
Oh God , thinks Luke.
Now Craig knows where his children go to school. He might even know where they live.
Luke is breathless by the time he almost collapses through his front door.
‘What happened to you?’ asks Helen. She’s standing at the bottom of the stairs in her dressing gown, a cup of tea in her hands. ‘Are the kids OK?’
‘Yes, yes. They’re fine. Got to school fine.’ He walks to the kitchen and sits on one of the chairs, breathing hard. Helen follows him. ‘I saw Craig Wright.’
‘He’s up early.’
‘It’s not funny, Helen. He stopped at the crossing… looked straight at me. That girl’s missing and he was at our daughters’ school.’
‘There can’t be anything in it, though. It’s a coincidence, that’s all. What would he want with you? If he went after all the reporters who covered his story, he’d be busy for the rest of his life.’
‘But I was at Erica’s house yesterday, and he could know that I lied to his father to get information. I said I knew him.’
‘OK, OK, calm down. Well, it’s not as though you’ve done much wrong. I bet this whole town is talking about him. You’re too invested in this case, but the man probably doesn’t even know you’re writing a story about him.’ She pours the cold tea down the sink and refills the kettle. ‘Listen. Phone the police and tell them what you saw. Perhaps you could hang around the house for a bit, just in case. You were up until two last night on that laptop. I’d say that more than makes up for having a few hours off this morning and the sleep will calm you down.’
She’s putting on a brave face, he can tell. Trying to stay calm because she’s trained to. Or is it because she doesn’t care? Too invested , she said. Isn’t it right that he should put all his efforts into getting the best story he can?
Luke opens his laptop and brings up the police non-emergency number. After several minutes, they answer, and he gives the details of what he saw.
‘Shall I email you the photo of the car?’ he says.
‘Just the description of the vehicle and its registration, please, and I’ll make sure it gets to the relevant person.’
Luke gives the woman his details before hanging up.
‘It’s like she wasn’t really interested,’ he says to Helen.
‘People report sightings all the time and they turn out to be nothing.’ She sighs as she pours boiling water into a fresh mug. ‘I bet they’ve had hundreds.’
Luke walks into the living room, going straight to the window. He waits for several minutes. He almost jumps when he hears a bang, but it’s only the couple from next door leaving the house for work. They do everything together, those two.
‘No, you’re probably right,’ he says. ‘There’s no one out there.’
But Luke can’t shake the feeling that he and his family are being watched. He’s seen those cold eyes close up now. Craig is capable of anything.
29
I need to go outside today. I can’t just lie around while my son has gone off God knows where. I haven’t spent so long waiting for him to let him get into trouble again. Perhaps Denise knows where he is – Craig tells Jason everything.
Sleeping has made me feel so much better this morning. The pain is still there, but it doesn’t seem as bad. The only knocking last night came from the house opposite. About midnight, there was someone banging on his door for about ten minutes – didn’t even glance in my direction when I peeked through the curtains.
It made a change for there to be goings-on with someone else. Perhaps Jason was true to his word and he’s made sure that no one bothers me at this house. There has been nothing through the letterbox, no bricks through the windows. I can only conclude that people are afraid of my son.
I knew Craig wouldn’t return last night. I don’t want to think about what he’s up to, but I have to face it. Like Lucy, I’ve met Leanne Livesey. It changes everything. She’s not just a pretty, silent face in a photograph. She’s a living, breathing human with problems of her own, and by the sounds of it she’s had a terrible childhood. She must have suffered, too, in her seventeen short years. Life can be so unfair.
I’ve tried ringing Denise’s landline, but there’s no answer. I don’t have her mobile telephone number, so I have to go round there. I must be brave.
I get my coat from the back of the under-stairs cupboard. I haven’t been to Denise’s since the day the police searched my house. She sat me down, made me cups of tea that she had laced with whisky and sugar. They helped, then. I’ve nothing to bolster me now. I should’ve taken to drink years ago. I wouldn’t be going through this – I probably wouldn’t be here at all.
I grab the packet of co-codamol from the cupboard, taking two out of the blister packet and washing them down with a handful of water. They should keep the pain away for the next couple of hours.
The sky is clear; I think it’s cold because some of the cars have a dusting of ice, but I can’t feel it. I don’t need my scarf, though the ends of my fingers catch the icy breeze.
There are no cars outside Denise’s house. Jim must be at work. He must have a good position now. If I were in their situation, I’d have moved from here years ago.
I knock three times, but there’s no answer.
Their letterbox is at the bottom of the door and I’ll be damned if I’m kneeling on the ground to shout through.
I put my ear to the front window and there’s a faint murmur from the television. I tap gently on it – it doesn’t take much to make a lot of noise.
‘I know you’re in there. It’s me, Erica. Can you let me in?’
A figure stands, walks out of the living room. I wait at the front door, the footsteps getting closer. It opens, but it’s not Denise who answers: it’s Jim.
‘Erica!’ he says. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m looking for Denise.’
He leaves the door wide open and walks back into the lounge. I step inside, closing it behind me. They’ve changed the carpet in the hallway. It used to be dark brown, the hardwearing type. Now it’s laminate – all the way through to the kitchen. It’s the same layout inside as mine, but it seems bigger. On the window sill at the bottom of the stairs is a glass vase with real flowers in. They don’t look fresh. Some of the white ones are browning; petals litter the base. Next to it are five, six photos in paper frames of numerous children in their school uniforms.
I’m waiting for Denise to appear when Jim shouts, ‘Come through!’
I walk through to their living room. It’s so modern, with its flooring and red rug near the wood-burning stove. The television’s on low, it’s a wonder I heard it. At least there’s nothing wrong with my ears.
‘Will Denise be down in a minute?’ I say.
‘I doubt it,’ says Jim.
He’s sitting on their plush grey sofa that looks as though it’s made of velvet. He’s wearing a denim shirt and black jeans. I can see that underneath his slippers, his socks don’t match.