One of tomorrow’s headlines is apparently First Maddy, Now Mabel. Amber shudders. It’s too much, way too much – arguing with Ruby, being besieged by the press; all it does is distract everyone from finding the real culprit.
They’ve been advised not to read any papers, not even the respectable ones, and Amber is going to take that advice. The thought that strangers will be talking about her over the breakfast table or by the office water cooler is incredibly upsetting. Particularly because it’s something she’s done herself in the past – judging others as a way of making conversation. She’ll never do that again. When Mabel’s found, she’s going to change completely, become a better mother.
She puts her hands together and promises the God she’s never believed in that she’ll never complain again about the sleepless nights, the drudgery of washing and making up bottles and changing nappies, the lack of adult company, the boredom, the awful aching loneliness. If Mabel is returned safely, she will never once moan when George has to work late; or argue about whose turn it is to give her a bath. The sound of her daughter waking at dawn will bring her joy, not irritation. She will push the buggy around the park with a smile on her face and a song in her heart.
There’s a knock on the door.
‘Who is it?’
‘Sally. Can you talk?’
‘Er – yes. I’ll come down.’ Amber stands up and goes to the mirror, frowning at her haggard looks. No doubt Sally wants to know what went on between her and Ruby – it could be awkward. As she descends the stairs, she tries to work out something believable to say.
But the family liaison officer isn’t interested in what just happened in the bedroom. There’s been a small development, she says.
‘What kind of development? Good or bad?’ Amber feels her pulse rate quicken.
Sally doesn’t reply, but leads her into the lounge, where her husband and mother are already seated. Their faces are twitching with anxiety. Amber sits next to George on the sofa. He reaches out and grasps her hand.
‘You okay?’ he whispers. She nods, although she isn’t okay. Not a bit of it.
Sally takes the other armchair. ‘First of all, DI Benedict wants me to tell you that he thought the press conference went extremely well. You were both amazing, thank you, I know how hard it must have been. The good news is, we’ve had a huge response from the general public and officers are analysing the data right now. I’m afraid these cases often generate a lot of irrelevant, even mischievous responses, so everything needs carefully sifting through. But one particular thing has come to light.’
‘Has a witness come forward?’ asks Vicky, unable to contain herself a second longer.
‘Not exactly. It’s more a piece of intelligence.’
‘What do you mean?’
Sally takes a breath. ‘We’ve been given a name.’
Amber’s stomach flips. ‘What name? Who?’
‘Just tell us,’ says George impatiently.
Sally glances down at her notes. ‘Does Sonya Garrick mean anything to you?’
‘Hmm … There’s only one Sonya I can think of,’ says Amber. ‘She came to the antenatal class a few times.’
‘Yes, that’s Sonya Garrick. A friend of yours, Polly McQueen, told us about her.’
Amber wrinkles her nose. She wouldn’t exactly call Polly a friend …
Sally looks at her searchingly. ‘How well do you know Sonya?’
Amber huffs. ‘Hardly at all. George knows her from the gym where he works.’
‘Used to,’ he replies quickly. ‘She stopped going when she got pregnant. I only knew her slightly – she wasn’t a client.’
Sally makes a quick note. ‘Has she ever visited you at William Morris Terrace?’
‘No,’ says Amber. ‘Never. I’d be surprised if she knows where I live. I only met her a couple of times, months ago. I probably wouldn’t recognise her any more.’ The cogs in her brain start to turn. ‘Why did Polly … I mean, do you think Sonya might have something to do with … with Mabel’s disappearance?’
‘Apparently she lost a baby last year, quite late on in her pregnancy,’ Sally explains. ‘Your friend says she took it extremely badly, and after that started behaving strangely. Do you know about this?’
Amber pulls a face. ‘Yes, sort of. I mean, I know she had a miscarriage, but as for behaving strangely … I wouldn’t necessarily trust …’ She pauses, not sure how to explain. ‘Polly has a tendency to hijack other people’s dramas. She over-empathises, makes it all about her.’
Sally nods. ‘Okay, that’s useful to know. She’s the one