the more stupid he’s going to look when it’s revealed that he’s not Mabel’s biological father. She suspects the news will leak eventually, like slime from a stinking bin bag. The media will smear it all over them. She ought to tell him before that happens – and she will tell him. But not tonight, not when they’ve only just returned home.
He’s still upstairs. She can’t hear him moving about above her – maybe he’s already gone to bed. She takes out her mobile and checks the time. Half twelve. Too late now to try Seth again, not that she feels inclined to leave yet another message. His lack of response is completely baffling, not to say hurtful. Why have you deserted me? she thinks. Now, when I need you the most.
It doesn’t take long for the media camp to realise that Amber and George have left her mother’s house and returned to the scene of the crime. It ups sticks and descends on William Morris Terrace, where the various news agencies stake out their territory on the pavement opposite number 74. There are no houses there, just the edge of the park, and the railings form a useful crowd barrier, separating journalists and rubberneckers. The park was closed while police made a meticulous search of the undergrowth, but now the gates have reopened.
Amber is up early, although she never actually went to bed in the first place, preferring to lie on the sofa under the TV blanket rather than in the bed with George. She peers through the gap between the blind and the window frame, watching the hungry crowd gather. Even from inside, she can sense the febrile atmosphere out there, the anticipation, even bloodlust. The more appalling the truth, the more disgusting the crime, the better they will like it. She shivers inwardly. God, how she loathes every single one of them.
She goes up to the top-floor bathroom and takes a shower, then enters the bedroom in search of clean clothes. George is already awake, sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone.
‘I missed you last night,’ he says.
‘Sorry. I knew I wouldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to disturb you.’ She takes a long-sleeved top out of the wardrobe and pulls it over her head. ‘Ruby’s coming round this morning, remember.’
‘Okay. I’ll go to the gym.’
‘The gym?’ she echoes. ‘What? Back to work?’
‘No. I need to train. My muscles are really stiff.’
‘Is that a good idea? What will that lot outside think?’
‘I don’t give a toss what they think. I’ve got to expend some energy or I’ll go mad.’
‘Won’t it be misconstrued as …’ she feels for the word, ‘uncaring? Our daughter’s missing but life goes on, that sort of thing. Sally said we needed to be careful.’
‘I’m going out of my mind, Amber. I can’t stop thinking about her, wondering what happened to her, where she is now, if she’s still alive. All these questions are constantly charging around my head.’ He gets out of bed. ‘You know me. I have to do something physical.’
‘Okay, fair enough.’ She’s relieved, in a way, that he won’t be there to see Ruby. ‘Just be careful. And don’t say anything to anyone, not even people you think are your friends.’
‘Yeah, I’m not an idiot,’ he replies tersely.
Amber finishes dressing, then goes back downstairs and into the sitting room. She looks out of the window again. Even more people have turned up. Some are drinking takeaway coffee while others are munching on what look like bacon sandwiches, probably from the greasy-spoon café at the top of the road. There’s almost a party atmosphere. It’s like they’re waiting for a celebrity to come out and pose for photos. She pities George trying to leave the house. Rather him than her.
Sally texts to say she’s been called to a team briefing and won’t be around until the afternoon. Amber feels relieved. She doesn’t want the woman in the flat; it’s too small, they’ll be falling over each other. Nor does she want her eavesdropping on the conversation with Ruby.
Dragging herself away from the window, she goes into the kitchen at the back of the flat. George is eating cereal at the table. He’s wearing his gym clothes and trainers, still flicking through his bloody phone. The scene is so normal that for a nano second she forgets Mabel is missing, but then he lifts his head, and the look of desolation in his eyes jolts her back to reality.