work. They’re good decent hard-working people, not criminals.
Belinda Bell
Was it a burglary gone wrong, then? Two scruffy-looking police officers knocked at the house earlier asking if I had seen anything but they were rather cagey about what happened when I asked them.
Tommy Mileham
Right, let’s get a search party together to find the scum that did this! My hounds will hunt them out.
Graham Cane
You going to bring that gun that’s in your profile picture, Tommy?
Tommy Mileham
Don’t tempt me . . .
Rebecca Feine
Guns? Don’t be ridiculous. Boys and their toys.
Kitty Fletcher
Girls like guns too, Rebecca.
Rebecca Feine
Ellie Mileham
This is terrifying. Can we have a comment from PC Adrian Cooper? Isn’t he in this group? If there was an intruder, I’d like to know, please. I live on the next road and I have my kids to think about.
Belinda Bell
Lots of police in the forest at the moment. I can see from my top window, they’re all heading to the west of the woods . . .
Andrew Blake
Hmmmmm, who do we know that lives in that part of the forest . . . ;-)
Rebecca Feine
Andrew Blake, what’s that supposed to mean?
Graham Cane
Oh, come on, we all know who Andrew means . . . and if I’m right, this thread will be deleted by admin as quick as you can spell out R-Y-A-N!
Rebecca Feine
If you’re talking about Ryan Day, you’re barking up the wrong tree, literally. Everyone needs to stop speculating on here. Andrea Cooper, can you moderate this, please?
Graham Cane
‘Wood’ you please stop being such a snowflake, Rebecca Feine? (See what I did there?)
Andrew Blake
Graham Cane, ha ha!
Kitty Fletcher
I can’t believe you’re making jokes about this, Graham Cane and Andrew Blake.
Graham Cane
Black humour. Best way to ‘tree’t a tragedy.
Kitty Fletcher
As a certified therapist, I can tell you it most certainly isn’t. It’s just another way of bottling it up.
Graham Cane
Was wondering when you’d bring up your qualifications, Kitty!
Belinda Bell
Ryan was visiting New Pine Road checking on number 7’s tree yesterday afternoon. I saw his van.
Andrea Cooper
Right, everyone, as much as I’m all for freedom of speech, can I remind you all this is an ongoing investigation so comments CLOSED!
Chapter Nine
Friday 19th April, 2019
10.13 a.m.
Melissa woke to the smell of frying bacon and pancakes, her head throbbing as though she’d spent the whole evening before drinking cider. In the few hours of sleep she’d managed to snatch, her dreams had been filled with the forest, of her frantically running through the trees and trying to find her children. She thought of the old oak in the distance, a cracked branch on the ground, a silver ballet shoe below. It was a nightmare she had often. But it was worse than ever. Something was wrong, very wrong, she just couldn’t figure out what . . . Then the memory of Patrick lying on the floor and the weight of their children’s silence ploughed into her brain.
‘Oh, Patrick,’ she whispered, tears flooding her eyes.
She quickly grabbed her phone, scrolling past scores of texts of support and Facebook alerts to find the one text she really wanted to read – the promised update from Rosemary, who had gone straight back to the hospital when Melissa had returned in the early hours.
No change. Hope you had a good rest. X
She looked at the clock. She’d already rested too much! The sudden urgency to speak to the kids propelled her out of bed despite her throbbing head, the clarity of morning making her desperately regret keeping the disappearance of the knife from the police.
What had she been thinking?
She brushed her teeth and pulled on yesterday’s clothes, rubbing some deodorant under her arms before jogging downstairs. It felt strange to be sleeping here again after all these years. It had once been her sanctuary but now she always felt a little uncomfortable here. The kids and Patrick loved it, though. It was the first house to be built in Forest Grove over twenty-six years before, a sprawling lodge, half brick, half wood, with five large bedrooms. The land around it was huge, with pastures and meadows plus their own patch of private forest. The kids loved it and would have sleepovers there whenever Melissa and Patrick had their monthly date night. They even had a key to the house, always welcome, whatever the time. The kitchen always smelt of something delicious, from the amazing muffins Bill loved to make to Rosemary’s first-rate curries. The large corduroy sofa in the living room was ancient but the most comfortable sofa going, and books