gotta go. This stinky baby is about to scream.’
Chapter Four
The weekend before
I had no idea when I woke up this morning that things would turn out this way. It felt like an ordinary Saturday. I was following my normal routine, arriving at Lilac Park just before 10.30 a.m. There’s no point getting there earlier. Everybody’s timetable shifts at the weekends: breakfast becomes brunch, lunch is forgotten or collides with dinner. People are more relaxed, less on their guard. And it’s more crowded, which makes it easier to hide.
I popped into the park café, where I ordered a latte and sipped it perched on a high stool overlooking the play area. The place was as chaotic as ever, the tables crowded with inattentive parents who seemed to think it was fine to linger over their smoked salmon and smashed avocado while their bored children played hide-and-seek under other customers’ tables and raided the ice-cream freezer. Not that I had any interest in them. I was only looking out for George.
He usually pops into the café at around 10.45 with Mabel bobbing about in the backpack carrier. He orders a double-shot cappuccino and has it poured into his own insulated beaker, then he strolls around the park drinking it. But he didn’t turn up today. I was disappointed. And curious.
I left the café and took the path that leads to the main gate, virtually opposite number 74. Staying safely on the park side of the road, I strolled up and down for a bit, taking sneaky glances at the house. Amber and George’s car – a white hatchback – was parked outside. The upstairs bathroom window was open. All the signs indicated that they were still at home.
Just delayed, then, I thought. I went back into the park and sat on a bench near the duck pond. If you sit at an angle, you can just about see number 74’s front door from there. I don’t know why, but I started to feel anxious. I hadn’t had sight of them for days and was worrying that Mabel might be poorly.
After about ten minutes the front door opened and Amber and George came out. Amber looked very different. She was wearing a skirt, for a start, with high black leather boots and a dark green coat. The colour made a perfect contrast with her auburn hair, which was all fluffy and bouncy. George was looking smart too, and he was carrying two small suitcases, the kind you can take as hand luggage on a plane. It looked like they were going somewhere special and possibly staying overnight.
George put the cases in the boot of the car then opened the door for Amber to get in. She took a lingering look at the upstairs windows, then climbed into the passenger seat. A few seconds later the car drove away, disappearing around the corner.
I was rooted to the spot, amazed by what I’d just witnessed. Where was Mabel? Had they forgotten to put her in the car? I started to panic, then checked myself. There was no way even dopey depressed Amber would do that. Somebody must be looking after my little precious. Grandma and Grandad, perhaps. A friend? My thoughts went into free fall for a few seconds and I had to pull them back.
A few minutes later, the front door opened again and a girl pushed the buggy out. She was wearing a blue woolly hat with a huge orange bobble on the top. Wisps of black hair were escaping from under it, falling over her eyes and hugging the sides of her face. She had a baggy woollen jacket on, and equally baggy trousers, which tapered at the ankle and were stuffed into big laced boots. She looked like an art student. Underneath all those clothes, I guessed she was quite slim. I wondered whether I’d seen her before. Something about her was familiar, but I couldn’t be sure. She looked very young. Too young for such an important job.
She crossed the road and entered the park. We were no more than a few metres from each other, but she was focused on her destination and didn’t even glance in my direction. Even so, I deliberately walked away, knowing I could re-enter the park by the small gate that opened onto the rose garden and catch up with her without her realising. She was easy to spot in that silly hat, the orange bobble flashing like a beacon. Perfect for me. I