‘I don’t think you’re the sort of person who takes kindly to being told what to do, Ellen. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.’
‘I’m fine. I can’t just sit on my hands waiting for news.’ Something occurs to me. ‘But you know where she is, right?’
‘I do, yes.’
‘How about you tell me, off the record? Since I’ve driven all the way out here.’
‘You know I can’t do that, Ellen. It would be breaching about six different rules.’
‘I thought you weren’t bothered about breaking the rules now and again?’
‘I’m bothered about the victim’s family,’ he says. ‘They need privacy.’
We reach my Citroën; his black Alfa Romeo is parked right next to it. He leans against the door of his car and slides a cigarette out of a packet of Marlboros. I’ve been trying to decide for the last few hours whether to tell him what happened at the rooftop car park today. But now we’re here, together, and I can still feel the tingle of relief that he defused the situation with Max. I make a snap decision.
‘I spoke to Dominic today.’
Gilbourne’s eyes widen, the lighter pausing on its way to his cigarette.
I update him – in broad outline – what Dominic told me earlier. ‘He said she’s in danger, she’s a sitting duck. He asked me to talk to her grandparents, persuade them to take her somewhere else.’
Gilbourne blows out a lungful of smoke with an exasperated sigh.
‘Well of course that’s what he wants, Ellen. He tried to take her from you and failed. He’s tried to get to her there, and failed again. So he wants Mia to be out in the open, unprotected, where he can try to get to her for a third time. She’s much better off where she is.’
‘So, should she have police protection at the house, some kind of security?’
‘I offered that to the family but they declined. They’re private people. Her grandfather in particular is quite a . . . strong-willed character. Knows what he wants.’ He gestures at me with his cigarette. ‘He’s not the only one. You don’t give up, do you?’
‘I can’t get Mia out of my head.’
He takes a deep drag, blows grey streams of smoke through his nose that drift and dissipate on the evening air.
‘I don’t get you, Ellen. You don’t have skin in this game, Mia’s not your flesh and blood. You could have walked away, but you didn’t.’
For a moment, I think about telling him a story I have only ever shared with Richard. About the memories I can’t shake, the guilt that pulls me down with invisible anchors. About the first time a complete stranger had put her baby in my arms.
A decade ago, a different time, a different life.
He says, ‘Why are you putting yourself at risk?’
‘Because sometimes you just have to do what you think is right, and damn the consequences.’
‘Amen to that.’
‘So let me help you.’
‘You can help me by staying safe.’ He drops his cigarette onto the tarmac and grinds it beneath his shoe. ‘Listen, I’ve got to get back to the station, let’s catch up tomorrow. And Ellen?’
‘Yes?’
‘Look after yourself.’
‘Thanks for earlier.’ I gesture back over my shoulder. ‘With Max.’
He nods, gives me a half-smile.
‘You’re welcome.’
He drives away and I watch as his Alfa Romeo accelerates into the distance and then, as the road curves away, is gone. I get in my own car and sit for a minute, thinking about what he said. He didn’t specifically say I couldn’t keep looking for Mia. He wants Mia to be out in the open, unprotected, where he can try to get to her for a third time. The least I can do is tell Mia’s grandparents what Dominic is planning.
I resolve to come back in the morning. And even if I have to knock on every door in the village, I’m going to find her.
SATURDAY
48
There is a buzzing by my ear. I jerk awake, wreathed in sweat, a moment of terror as I realise I have absolutely no idea where I am. A dark room, almost pitch black, just a thin line of light to my right side. Not my pillow, not my bed. Not my house. I twist onto my back, heart drumming against my ribs—
The hotel. It’s OK. I’m OK. The door is shut, the room is quiet. No one in the shadows behind the door. No one here but me. My phone, on the bedside table, buzzes again. Two texts from Tara.
Morning. How’s the hotel? Sleep