Colleen smiles her gratitude, and it causes another jolt of guilt to flare up. She’s quick to trust me because I’m a social worker, with similar principles. But I don’t deserve it.
‘I took on their case as soon as I joined,’ she says. ‘A couple of months before they moved to Chinnor. There’d been an incident involving a particular boy, a lad with a bit of a reputation, which led to my predecessor resigning. It absolutely wasn’t her fault, but she felt responsible, asleep at the wheel, that kind of thing. I was given the task of moving the girls out of harm’s way.’
‘Out of harm’s way? So is there a chance this boy could have killed Amber?’
‘I mentioned it to the police,’ Colleen says. ‘But they weren’t that interested, and I can understand why. You see, it was Jess who was thought to be in danger from him, not Amber. To be honest, Amber would probably have described him as a friend; I mentioned her sass, didn’t I?’
‘What did he have against Jess? My daughter says she’s quite shy?’
‘She is, yes, has tended to hide in Amber’s shadow rather than make her own friends.’ Two small lines appear between Colleen’s eyebrows. ‘What happened is complicated. Let’s just say that Jess dug herself a hole that she couldn’t – or perhaps wouldn’t – get out of. She can be very stubborn about certain things.’
I think about the girl I saw in the Co-op. Her vivid blue eyes and flame red hair. Her angry, defiant expression. Will her stubbornness be Lucy’s downfall? ‘How do you think Jess will cope without Amber?’ I ask.
Colleen sighs. ‘She was very reliant on her younger sister, so it’s a worry. And she refused to speak at all for two days after Amber’s murder. But I think she’s emerged stronger actually, almost like she’s taken on a bit of her sister’s personality. Maybe the trauma has given her a new hunger to survive. No, my real concern now is that she’ll run away.’
‘Oh?’ I lean forward. Leaving home with no support network is incredibly dangerous for a vulnerable teenage girl. But the thought of Jess not being in the village lifts my spirits. I despise myself for it.
‘She hates it at her foster home now, which of course I understand. Her dad lives in a small village in the Peak District,’ Colleen goes on. ‘And I think she has notions about moving in with him.’
‘She has a dad?’ I ask, surprised.
‘Yes, and he was around for a year or so after Jess was born. But he’d served in the military in Afghanistan, and there were both physical and mental health issues. When Jess’s mum died, the team contacted him. But there was no way the family court would have given him custody, and he had no interest in requesting it.’
‘But you think Jess might go to him anyway?’ I press.
‘I’ve seen a photo of him. He’s Scottish, and she’s the spit of him. I think that makes a difference, doesn’t it? Being able to see where you come from in someone’s face? That’s why I’m going up to Derbyshire tomorrow, to talk to him. I don’t mean for him to take her on – that wouldn’t be right for either party – but to organise a visit. Because Jesus wept, the girl deserves something good in her life.’
AFTER
Friday 10th May
Rachel
I check my watch for the millionth time. Matt was on the first flight out of Geneva so he should be home by now, but there’s no sign of him yet. I’m desperate to tell him about Jess’s ransom demand; I couldn’t stomach doing it over the phone, without the fortifying effects of physical touch, but we’re supposed to be doing the drop tonight, and I still have no clue what to do.
I hear his car pull into the drive and sigh with relief. I should wait, give him a moment to take his shoes off, but I’m too impatient for that. I leap up from my chair and accost him as he walks through the porch. ‘Thank God you’re back,’ I exhale, wrapping my arms around him and burrowing my face into his neck.
‘Whoa, it’s only been forty-eight hours.’ When I don’t respond, he slowly returns the hug, and we stand like that, in silence, for a few moments. Lucy went to school today – she said it was her choice, but I suspect Milla encouraged it, her mission for us all to appear normal to the outside world – so there’s just the two of us in the house. I suddenly have a crazy urge to go upstairs, to have daytime sex like we did before the girls came along. But that feels like a lifetime ago now, so I pull away.
Matt looks at me. ‘So what’s happened?’ he asks.
I can’t tell whether he sounds worried, or annoyed. But I have to remember that either would be fair. Just back from a two-day work trip, no time to relax, an early morning flight. He’s been drawn into this nightmare like I have, purely as punishment for loving his family. ‘Things have got a hundred times worse,’ I admit quietly.
He rests his hand on the side table. ‘Why?’
‘Lucy did go and meet Amber on Friday night,’ I explain. ‘They argued. Lucy even lashed out with that broken vodka bottle. And that’s when the video ends.’
His eyes widen. ‘What video?’
‘Jess was up there too, hiding – probably planned that way – and she filmed it.’
‘Oh God, poor Lucy,’ he moans, his voice cracking. He walks over to the living area and sinks into the sofa.
‘Poor Lucy?’ My voice rises. ‘She lied to us! And she was flinging a makeshift weapon around. Honestly, Matt, I hardly recognised her on that footage. She was so angry.’
He sighs, lowers his head. He stays like that for a while, but just as I’m about to say something – anything to fill the silence – he looks up again. ‘What were they arguing about? Could you hear them on the video?’
I sigh. ‘Not really. Something about Lucy knowing some truth.’
His head jerks. ‘What truth?’
I sigh. ‘I’ve no idea. But I think Amber stealing Bronwen’s letter was the main issue.’
‘I wonder what it says,’ Matt murmurs, sliding the heel of his hand across his forehead. ‘For it to matter so much.’
I feel awkward, divulging Lucy and Bronwen’s secret, but it’s better that Matt knows, so I tell him about the kiss, and the feelings Bronwen admitted to. How Lucy naturally wanted it to stay private between them.
He’s quiet for a while, taking it in. ‘I wish she’d told us,’ he says eventually. I want to ask whether he’s talking about Lucy kissing Bronwen, or about Amber finding out about it, but his voice is so heavy with regret that I don’t say anything. He’s been telling me not to worry since Saturday morning, getting cross that I could suspect my own children. Seeing him like this, the realisation of the predicament we’re in, has taken that safety net away and I feel like I’m falling.
‘I need to tell you how we got the video,’ I murmur.
‘Go on.’ His expression is calm, clinical now. He’s always been better at self-control than me.
‘Jess emailed it to Lucy. She wrote that she saw Lucy kill Amber – which Lucy has promised can’t be true – but she wants money.’
Matt’s eyes narrow. ‘Blackmail?’
I nod. Tears are rolling down my face now. ‘She wants ten thousand pounds. Dropped in a bin up by Kiln Lakes at midnight tonight. Jesus, just saying that feels surreal, like I’m in an American cop show or something.’
