glances out of the window and sees two patrol cars parked outside the door, blue lights flashing.
‘What’s going on?’
‘We’re looking for George,’ says Sally. ‘When did you last see him?’
‘Um … about three hours ago. He left the house and drove off.’
‘Do you know where he went?’
‘No. Why? What’s happened? Is he okay?’
‘Lewis Chambers was attacked in his flat this morning,’ Sally replies, keeping her tone even. ‘He was severely beaten and is fighting for his life.’
The words punch Amber in the stomach, winding her. She reaches out for support and lowers herself onto a chair. ‘Oh my God …’
‘Your sister thinks it was George that attacked him.’
‘No … no … he wouldn’t …’ She stops. Inside, she knows it’s true. His parting words were along the lines of ‘The next time I see Lewis, I’ll kill him.’ Stupid, stupid man. As if that’s going to make things any better. As if it’s going to help find Mabel …
Sally clears her throat. ‘Do you know where George is? We’ve tried reaching him by phone …’
‘He took the car, that’s all I know.’
‘Did he say anything about going to see Lewis?’
‘No, but …’ She hesitates. ‘It’s possible. He was very upset. And angry.’
‘With Lewis?’
She nods. ‘And me.’ She chews her lip. ‘We had a bad row.’
‘Hmm … You told him, I presume? That Lewis is Mabel’s biological father.’
‘Yes.’ Heat rises to her cheeks. ‘He took it very badly. But I didn’t think—’
‘Have you any idea where he might be now?’
‘No.’ Sally shoots her a disbelieving look. ‘Honestly, I’ve no idea. If I knew, I’d tell you.’
‘Okay.’ The FLO puffs out. ‘We’re monitoring his phone, but if he gets in touch with you, let us know straight away.’
‘I’ll tell him to hand himself in,’ Amber mumbles.
‘You do that.’ Sally walks over to the window and looks down into the street below. ‘You should know that pictures of Lewis being loaded into an ambulance are already flying around social media. Some people are saying he tried to kill himself, others are pointing the finger at George. There are all kinds of theories circulating; it’s getting extremely nasty. You’re going to be besieged, I’m afraid.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.’
‘The patrol cars will stay outside. The officers will make sure nobody gets too close.’
‘Thanks.’
There’s a long pause. Sally turns to her. ‘This must be very tough. How are you? You look … worn to a frazzle.’
‘It’s just going from bad to worse,’ Amber says. ‘Everything’s falling apart. And all this time, Mabel is still missing. Everyone’s forgotten about her.’
‘No they haven’t. We’ve got a huge team working around the clock, processing all the intelligence that’s come through since yesterday. We’ve had an amazing response from the public, we feel very positive that—’
‘Don’t bullshit me,’ she snaps. ‘I know you all think she’s dead.’
‘That’s not true. This is a missing person case, not a murder. Finding Mabel alive remains our overwhelming priority.’
‘For once, can you stop talking like you’re at a press conference?’
Sally stiffens. ‘I was just trying to reassure you that we’re doing …’ She stops, takes a deep breath and starts again. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. I can see you’re under tremendous pressure. The last thing you need is some trite—’
‘Please, don’t say any more,’ Amber sighs. ‘Just find my daughter, that’s all I want.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
Day Eight with Mabel
I can’t get the Nosy Neighbour out of my head. Yesterday evening, I went into the garden, convinced that he was snooping around, lurking in the shadows. I couldn’t see him, but I sensed his presence, creeping towards me in a game of grandmother’s footsteps. When I had my back to him, he inched forward, little by little, but the moment I turned around, he froze, invisible in his country camouflage of tweed and corduroy. I knew he was there, though. I could hear his threatening voice in my head. I’m coming to get you …
Later, as I lay in bed, I kept listening for twigs cracking underfoot and rustling in the undergrowth. The hinges on the side gate were creaking and at one point I thought I heard him trying to get in through the back door. As soon as I got up this morning, I went outside again to check for footprints and patches of flattened grass, but he’d covered his tracks well. If he comes back tonight, I’ll be ready for him. There must be weapons in Dolly’s shed that I can use. Spades, pitchforks, a hammer …