Evi looked as worried as he felt. ‘Gillian must have been mistaken,’ she said. ‘Severe trauma can play tricks with people’s memories. Maybe she gave the pyjamas to someone else and forgot. If they’re unique, they’ll still help identify the body.’
‘Maybe,’ agreed Harry. ‘The trouble is, the cat’s out of the bag now. The police will have to talk to her. I’m not sure how she’ll cope with it.’
‘I can go up now,’ said Evi. ‘I’ve cleared all my appointments for today.’
Harry heard footsteps approaching. When he looked up, Rushton was standing in the doorway. ‘We’re ready to go and see Mrs Royle now, Reverend,’ he said. ‘Are you fit?’
‘Of course,’ said Harry. He stood and turned to Evi. The back of her chair had two handles, one on either side of her shoulders. ‘May I?’ he offered.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ she snapped. ‘Let’s go.’
54
GILLIAN SEEMED TO SWAY IN THE DOORFRAME AS HER EYES fixed on Harry’s. ‘You didn’t tell me you were coming this morning,’ she said, before shooting a sly glance at Evi.
‘Gillian, this is Detective Chief Superintendent Rushton,’ Harry said. ‘I’m afraid we need to talk to you. Is it OK if we come in?’
Gillian’s eyes opened a little wider, then she turned and walked back up the stairs towards her flat. Harry allowed Evi to go up next and then followed. Rushton brought up the rear.
The flat seemed to have been tidied since the previous day. Harry hoped it hadn’t been for his benefit.
‘What’s going on at the church?’ Gillian asked, as they all entered the small living room. ‘There’ve been police cars there all morning.’
Through the window behind Gillian, Harry could see the main road winding its way up the hill towards the church. The rain of the previous night had left a thin mist behind. The edges of the buildings that lined the road seemed to be fading, as though rubbed out by an eraser.
‘That’s partly why we’re here,’ said Harry. ‘Something happened at the church last night.’ He turned to Rushton. ‘Detective Chief Superintendent, do you mind if I …?’
‘No, please go ahead,’ replied Rushton, sinking into an armchair.
Harry waited for both Gillian and Evi to sit. Evi took the other armchair, Gillian sat in the middle of the sofa. Harry dropped down until he was half sitting, half leaning beside her. ‘Gillian, something’s happened which might cause you some distress,’ he began. ‘That’s why I asked Dr Oliver to come.’ Gillian’s eyes drifted to Evi, as if only just noticing that she’d followed them up, then moved back to Harry.
‘Do you remember telling me about the night your old house caught fire?’ asked Harry. ‘About the night Hayley was killed?’
Gillian said nothing, just nodded once, her eyes not leaving Harry’s face. He began to wonder if she’d started drinking again. There was something not quite … ‘Do you remember the pyjamas she was wearing?’ he continued.
At that Gillian drew herself up. Her eyes flickered into focus and she glanced from Harry to Rushton. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked. She was starting to look frightened.
‘Mrs Royle,’ said Rushton, leaning forward. In the small room, they all seemed uncomfortably close to each other. ‘Early this morning we found the remains of a small child wearing pyjamas very similar to the pair you described to Reverend Laycock. Is there any possibility you were mistaken about what your daughter was wearing?’
‘You found her?’ Gillian had pushed herself forward on the sofa, was on the verge of leaping up.
‘A child was found,’ said Harry, putting his hand gently on Gillian’s arm. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see both Evi and Rushton getting ready to stand up. ‘But we don’t see how it could possibly be Hayley.’
‘I knew it.’ Her fingers were clutching his hand. ‘I knew she hadn’t burned. Where was she? What happened to her?’
‘Mrs Royle.’ Rushton’s voice was loud enough to silence Gillian for a second. ‘I’ve seen the report of the chief fire officer who attended the blaze at your house. According to that, your daughter’s remains were found. They were released into your possession shortly after the fire.’
‘No,’ snapped Gillian, glaring at Rushton.
‘No?’ repeated Harry.
Gillian’s head spun back to face him. ‘What they gave me wasn’t Hayley. I know it wasn’t.’ She turned to glare at Rushton again. ‘They were trying to palm me off with a handful of ashes. I know she got out of the house. Stop looking at each other