chain and the door. Wearing a faded Levellers T-shirt that went all the way to her knees, she’d swaddled her shoulders in the red silk kaftan she used as a dressing-gown.
‘Heidi?’ she said, her voice croaky with sleep.
‘I need to talk to someone.’
She blinked twice, not quite awake, and closed the door. For a moment I worried she was turning me away, that after all her ignored calls she’d finally lost patience and decided to wash her hands of me. But then I heard the metal jingle of her releasing the chain and the door reopened. She motioned for me to come in.
‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
I found I needed a few moments’ peace ensconced round her kitchen table before I could relay the evening’s events. Despite the hour and the fact I’d just knocked her out of bed, Carla didn’t press for details. Instead, she sat there yawning, drinking her tea and reaching down to where Jasper slinked by her shins. It was one of the things I loved about her: she never felt compelled to fill our time together with noise; she never made me hurry out my words before they were ready. Sometimes I would lie on her osteopath’s table while she manipulated my shoulder, and I would want to chatter and gossip and she would talk just as much as me. But then, there were other times I wanted to lie there quietly, or maybe even close my eyes, and then she would just do her thing, reaching her cool hands underneath my ribcage, trying to loosen the constriction there, and the silence between us never felt awkward or tense the way it often can.
‘I went back to that shop,’ I said, at last.
Giving me a look that said, oh, so that’s what this is all about, she put down her mug and drew the kaftan around her chest.
‘The one with the boy?’
I nodded, and then, suddenly desperate to tell her everything, I spoke quickly, expelling the sentences as fast as I could.
‘I went there last week. I saw him coming home from school. I managed to get some photos, but they were no good. I went back but there was this man and I fell over –’
‘Hang on,’ Carla interrupted. ‘You were there just now, in the middle of the night? By yourself?’
‘There was a photograph of the boy and some other people,’ I explained, impatient to continue. ‘In the house. You could see it through the back window.’
‘But why in the middle of the night?’
‘I needed to get a better look. Without being disturbed. I needed to see if I could identify any of the other people in the picture.’ I realised I was babbling and slowed down. ‘But then there was this bloke. He thought I was on the game and when I told him I wasn’t, he got angry and he chased me.’
‘Chased you? Chased you how?’
‘Down the street. He had a brick.’ I mimed the way he’d held the weapon in the air.
Her eyes widened.
‘I think we should call the police.’ She went to get up, but I put my hand on her arm, stopping her.
‘I don’t want them involved. You know how the copper grapevine works. It would take five seconds for word to get to DS Gooder and he’d almost certainly mention it to Jason.’
‘And where does Jason think you are right now?’
‘I waited until he was asleep before I went out.’
Her face flashed with an anxiety I’d never seen before. Edging her chair in close to mine, she took hold of my hands. ‘It sounds like everything has got a little out of control.’ She gave them a squeeze. ‘Maybe what happened tonight was just the fright you needed to make you stop.’
‘To make me stop?’ This I hadn’t expected. ‘What if I don’t want to stop?’
Covering her eyes with her palms, she took a breath, lifted them up to her forehead and smoothed back her curls.
‘How can I put this?’ she said flatly. ‘When you first told me about the kid in the shop, you said you showed Jason the boy and he stated definitively that the child was not Barney, right?’
‘Right, but –’
‘He was sure he wasn’t Barney,’ she reiterated. ‘Listen to yourself. You spent this afternoon spying on a child on his way home from school and tonight were almost attacked. Now you’re in my kitchen ranting and raving about a kid you’ve seen up close what, all of once, twice?’
‘Does it matter how many