lying to George, and probably to me too. I get the feeling she’s up to something.’
‘What do you mean?’
She sits up straight. ‘What if it wasn’t a coincidence that I was looking after Mabel on my own last night? What if it was all part of the plan?’
Chapter Sixteen
Day Two without Mabel
Amber refuses to go to bed, even though it’s well past midnight. Eating, sleeping, washing and dressing are of no interest to her right now. She doesn’t care if she stinks to high heaven; she’ll wear the same clothes until Mabel is found.
‘At least go and lie down,’ her mother says. ‘You need to rest. Keep your strength up.’
‘She’s right,’ adds George. ‘We’ve done all we can for today.’
‘But I haven’t done anything!’
‘You’ve been helping the police.’
She sighs heavily. ‘Not really. Not like you.’
After their interviews with DI Benedict, George insisted on driving to Waltham Green to look for Mabel. He wanted her to go with him, but she said she didn’t have the strength. Besides, she knew it would be a waste of time. He was gone for hours, and when he returned, frazzled and defeated, he looked as if he’d aged ten years.
‘Shall I make some hot chocolate?’ her mother asks. They both shake their heads.
‘Just go to bed, Mum. Please.’
‘There’s no point, I won’t sleep.’ Vicky rises from the armchair. ‘It’s getting chilly. If we’re going to stay up all night, I’d better put the heating back on.’ She leaves the room. Amber hears the whoosh of the boiler reigniting, the chink of crockery, the hum of the kettle – the sounds of her mother’s heart breaking. Mum adores Mabel, although she hasn’t been as active a grandmother as Amber expected. Maybe she regrets that now, Amber thinks, blaming herself for letting Ruby babysit when it should have been her job. Or maybe she’s relieved that it wasn’t her in charge.
George and Amber sit in uneasy silence for a few minutes. There’s everything and nothing to say. They haven’t been on their own together since George first arrived and lost his temper. The calm between them now is born of exhaustion, nothing more. Tomorrow, the blame game will doubtless be resumed. Amber has never felt so lonely. She’s standing on an island, surrounded by a treacherous sea of secrets. Nobody can reach her. Only Seth, but she’s afraid to contact him.
She yawns. Her legs ache with tiredness and she feels faintly sick. Hugging herself against the cold, she closes her eyes for a few moments and finds herself back in the interview with DI Benedict. All those questions … It was supposed to be a witness statement, but it felt more like an interrogation. She stepped carefully over his conversational tripwires, and stopped herself filling his deliberate pauses with nervous incriminating chatter. Despite that, she knows he knows she’s lying – although probably not what about. Not yet, anyway.
She doesn’t trust the family liaison officer either. She’s meant to be supporting them, but Amber senses she’s been put in the house to spy and eavesdrop on their conversations. Thankfully, she has gone home now, but she’ll be back first thing in the morning. They need to be careful what they say in front of her; they need to present a united front.
Her mother comes back in carrying a mug of hot chocolate and a small plate of custard creams. She’s done nothing all day but make drinks and arrange biscuits.
‘Are you sure I can’t get you anything?’ she asks for the umpteenth time.
‘No!’ retorts Amber.
‘No thanks,’ says George.
Vicky sits down and cradles her mug in her hands. ‘I expect they’ve packed in the search for the night,’ she says, thinking aloud.
Amber makes an agreeing noise. Part of her wants her mother to shut up and go to bed, but another part is grateful that she’s acting as a buffer zone between her and George.
‘Did the police ask you about people who’d visited the flat recently?’ George says. Amber nods.
‘I can’t think why they needed to interview you together and then all over again separately,’ her mother chips in.
‘It’s in case there’s something we don’t want to say in front of each other,’ explains Amber. Her mother pulls a face to say she understands but still thinks it’s wrong.
‘I felt bad giving names of family and friends,’ says George.
Amber shrugs. ‘They want to test their DNA, that’s all. For elimination—’
‘Yes, I know … Still embarrassing. I don’t want them to think we suspect them.’