trying-to-maintain-some-sort-of-order-despite-the-baby devastation Bonnett’s seen so many times before. The biscuit-coloured sofas aren’t going to last the course, that’s for sure. And the cream satin cushions are already jostling with a bag of nappies, a packet of baby wipes and a discarded yellow and white Babygro. But give the girl credit; at least she’s trying.
Mansour takes a seat without being asked and Bonnett flashes him a look which he doesn’t see, largely because he’s too busy eyeing up the plasma TV. Bonnett sighs. But when she tries to get Rachel to join her in a complicit smile she doesn’t get a response.
‘Can you tell me what this is about?’
‘It’s about Sasha,’ says Bonnett. ‘Your partner’s daughter.’
Rachel frowns. ‘What about her?’
They call Bonnett ‘Cawood’ at the nick, after the Sarah Lancashire character in Happy Valley. And there’s no question there’s a resemblance. It’s not just the hair – though the blonde definitely helps – it’s all of it: the resilience, the shrewdness, the stand-your-ground-and-speak-your-mind.
‘Is she here, Ms Barrow?’
‘What do you mean “is she here”?’ says Rachel. ‘Of course she’s not here. I haven’t even met her.’
Bonnett looks round the room. ‘But Mr Blake has, hasn’t he? Recently, I mean.’
‘I don’t see how you –’
‘The pictures, Ms Barrow. That one over there, for a start – in the silver frame. That’s Sasha, isn’t it? Even from this distance I can tell that’s not a toddler.’
The woman hoists the baby a little higher. ‘Why shouldn’t he have a picture of her? It’s not some sort of secret. We talked about it. Jon wanted to see her. He said they’d been kept apart for too long.’
‘Why now, suddenly? After all these years?’
‘It was the baby. Jon thought we should try to be a proper family. That it wasn’t fair that Sasha didn’t even know she has a brother. Especially now she’s old enough to make her own choices.’
‘Where’s Mr Blake now, Ms Barrow?’
She flushes a little. ‘Down south. Berkshire. He’s the sales manager for a pharmaceutical company. And you still haven’t told me what this is about.’
‘Sasha Blake is missing. And given she’s been in recent contact with her father, Thames Valley Police asked us to check the premises to see if she’s here.’
The woman’s eyes widen and her grip on her baby tightens. The child starts to wail again.
‘So could we do that, Ms Barrow? Check the house? For tidiness’ sake?’
The woman hesitates a moment, then nods.
Bonnett gives Mansour a meaningful look and he gets hurriedly to his feet and goes back out into the hall. A moment later they hear his footsteps on the stairs.
‘He won’t find anything,’ says Rachel firmly. ‘I told you – she’s not here. She’s never even visited. Jon met her in Oxford.’
‘You just said Mr Blake is in Berkshire. That’s not so far from Oxford. Was he intending to contact Sasha? Perhaps try and see her?’
Rachel flushes again. ‘Actually, he did say something about that, but I don’t know if it came to anything. You’d have to ask him.’
‘We’ve been trying,’ says Bonnett drily. ‘But the number his office gave us appears to be off.’
Rachel reaches over and picks up a mobile from the coffee table. ‘I’ve had mine on mute,’ she says, staring at the screen. ‘I was trying to get the baby down.’ She looks up. ‘There’s nothing from Jon but there are four missed calls from his mum. You spoke to her as well?’
‘I’m afraid we had to – we needed Mr Blake’s address.’
Rachel sighs. ‘And now she’ll be on my case all afternoon.’
‘Have you had any sort of contact with Mr Blake today?’
Rachel shakes her head. ‘He said he had a meeting all morning and to leave him an email if I needed anything. I can call him again now, if you like.’
‘No, no,’ says Bonnett quickly. ‘I’d rather you didn’t do that. We’ll make contact ourselves. You don’t happen to know which company the meeting is with, do you?’
‘It’s Dexter Masterson. They’re a private hospital group based in Reading. I can find their number – it’s how Jon and I met – we worked together –’
I bet you did, thinks Bonnett. ‘That’s fine, Ms Barrow,’ she says with a thin smile. ‘Don’t you worry. We’ll take it from here.’
* * *
‘How are you doing?’
Gis is at the door of the Summertown High secretary’s office, where Everett has taken up temporary residence. A line of girls has been trooping in and out to see her all day, and it’s starting to feel rather like