of moving that was calming to watch.
‘I should be going soon but, before I do, I wanted to say thanks for letting me come round, especially on Christmas Eve.’ He focused his gaze on Jason. ‘I know that, after what happened, you’re well within your rights to say you don’t want anything more to do with me.’
Jason nodded, unable to make eye contact.
‘I’m sorry about the way you found out,’ he continued. ‘I never meant for it to happen like that. I realise I should have told you as soon as I knew things between me and Vicky were getting serious.’
‘Apology accepted,’ said Jason, clearly wanting to bring the subject to a close.
We sat there in the silence, each of us nursing a different set of secrets. We were like safety deposit boxes, locked next to each other in the bank, oblivious to what our neighbours actually contained.
Martin shuffled himself to the edge of the armchair. It seemed he wasn’t quite done.
‘Also, I wanted to come by because I know that this is always a hard time of year for you both.’
At this I felt Jason tense and, as I didn’t want there to be a scene, I decided to be the one to respond.
‘It is,’ I agreed. ‘But we struggle with it together.’ I took hold of Jason’s hand and kissed it. ‘That’s what makes us strong.’
I thought back to the last image I had of Barney. Shivering in the early-morning sun, he’d pressed himself flat against the small brick wall that bordered Carla’s front garden. As soon as he’d seen Tommy’s jeep approach, he’d leapt forward, his face opening into a smile. Tommy had got out along with a woman. She’d changed her hair and had aged somewhat in the last five years, but it was definitely her: the woman from the photofit. Jenny.
Barney had run to her with blind abandon and Jenny had hugged him tight, her kisses lost in his hair. They’d stood like that for a while, eyes closed, taking in each other’s smell. And in that moment I saw it. She loved him, truly, and he loved her. After helping him into the back seat, she gave me a quick nod of gratitude and then they were gone.
‘I’ve obviously not been allowed any further access to the case,’ said Martin, his cheeks pinking at the allusion to his ongoing suspension. ‘You’ll be assigned a new family liaison officer soon but, until then, I wanted to make sure you know that, despite the disappointments of this year, I’ve got it on good authority the team are still one hundred per cent committed to the investigation.’
I squeezed Jason’s hand and kept my face fixed firm. The last three nights I’d woken at dawn to discover him on the old nursing chair next to our bedroom window, his face bathed in the blue glow from the laptop. He was scouring missing persons forums. Then, this morning, I’d found him sat cross-legged on the living room floor with Barney’s fire engine. I’d watched as he repeatedly extended and retracted the ladder attached to the vehicle’s roof. Each time he’d let the ladder collapse back into its metal casing, it had made a loud aluminium crash and each time I’d felt my heart catch in my throat.
But life is a series of trade-offs, of choices considered and choices made.
I have made my choice.
The detective fiddled with the cuff of his shirt, pushing his watch under and then over it.
‘Actually, Jason,’ he said, his voice now swollen with emotion. ‘That was the main reason I wanted to come and talk to you. I wanted to promise in person that they won’t stop looking.’ His eyes were wide and unblinking. ‘I swear to you, as long as I’m still living and breathing, Barney’s case will be kept open.’ He held his hand to his heart. ‘I wanted to tell you, they won’t ever give up searching for your boy. I wanted to promise you that.’
Acknowledgements
This book’s journey to publication has been long and complicated and certain people along the way have helped and supported me immeasurably.
Nicola Barr. Finding the right agent is like finding the right husband. You need someone who gets you totally, who always tells you the truth, who is tough when they need to be and who believes in you no matter what the rest of the world may say. Nicola is in my corner. For that I am and always will be grateful.
Kate Rizzo and the team at Greene & Heaton.
Joel Richardson. I like clever people and Joel is really, really clever. He makes me a better writer. I’m lucky to have him as my editor.
Kate Parkin and the team at Twenty7.
Emily Burns and Carmen Jimenez. Publicists extraordinaire.
Detective Inspector Steve Roche. For lending me his expertise and for reality-checking my various early drafts.
Chris Sussman, who is as smart and brilliant as he is kind. Chris was one of the first people I told I wanted to be a writer. His friendship and critical feedback helped me become that writer.
Tom McDonald. I mentioned I like clever people. Tom is next-level clever. Not only does he continue to give me early gold-dust-like editorial feedback but he was also pivotal in helping me get this book out into the world. Thank you for stepping in at just the right moment and for telling me to give myself a fair fight.
Naomi Kelt and Sam Gardiner. For your first readings, friendship and unfailing support.
Team Twenty7. The most unexpected and wonderful part of being published by my imprint are the other debut writers. I now have this whole new set of friends. They make me laugh almost every day (reader, we have a secret twitter group) and whenever I have a question or a crisis they are the literary equivalent of calling 999. Team Twenty7 you are a sheer bloody delight.
Louise Doughty and The Faber Academy.
Kate Norbury, for her rigorous editorial eye and careful, intuitive notes.
CPL Productions. Barry, Charlie, Luke, Quincy, Amanda, Arabella, Danielle, Murray, Janet, Heather, Alex, Charles and Jess. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful home these last three years. I basically get to go to work every day and hang out with my friends.
Daisy Goodwin. For her generosity in everything.
My English teachers: David Litchfield, Les Robinson and Ray Honeybourne. My Director of Studies at Newnham, Jean Gooder. For fundamentally changing the course of my life.
Barbara Johnson, my mother. Who, against all odds, raised me so well. She’s also a top-notch first reader and stepped in whenever I needed help brainstorming a tricky plot point or character.
Danny O’Connor, my brother. For being there with me every step of the way and for the best pep talk emails known to man.
But most of all thank you to my husband and best friend, Alan Wray. For the time, for the absolute belief.