VE: Thank you for seeing me again, Mrs Webster. I know this must be a difficult time for everyone.
FW: Do you know how long the press are going to be here? They’re turning the place into a pigsty. Litter everywhere, beer cans, and as for the parking –
VE: I think you said your daughter, Megan, is in the same class as Daisy?
FW: Yes, that’s right. Though how any of us didn’t notice it wasn’t her at the party, I’ll never know. Apparently all the kids knew the two girls had swapped costumes, but didn’t think to divulge the fact to their benighted parents.
VE: I believe one of this term’s projects was to write a fairy story?
FW: Oh yes, they had a lot of fun with that. Even the boys.
VE: What did Megan write about?
FW: Oh, the usual, princesses and dwarves and wicked stepmothers. Rapunzel meets Cinderella with a dollop of Frozen thrown in for good measure.
VE: Funny how the stepmothers are always wicked. It would make me think twice marrying a man with young kids – seems you’re on a hiding to nothing whatever you do.
FW: Oh, don’t let that put you off. In my experience mothers in general are on a hiding to nothing when they get to this age. You can’t do anything right. In fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the wicked witch in Megan’s story is based entirely on me.
VE: Funny you say that. The picture Daisy drew has a woman with shoes just like her mother’s.
FW: Shaz’s stilettos? Oh how funny - did they have the red soles too? Sharon claims they’re genuine Louboutins but personally I think it’s just nail varnish. I’m afraid they’ve become rather her trademark round here – she wears them everywhere regardless of the weather. Or the occasion. I saw her once half stuck in mud on the touchline when Leo was playing football. She did nothing but moan all afternoon. I don’t think she’s been to a match since.
VE: Does Barry Mason go – to the football, I mean?
FW: Sometimes. Not often. He and Leo aren’t exactly close.
VE: But I remember you saying Barry definitely was close to Daisy – the ‘dads and daughters thing’. Something about him carrying her around all the time?
FW: Well, yes. But I haven’t seen him doing that so much lately.
VE: But they’re close?
[pause]
FW: What are you getting at? Are you asking me if Barry could have been abusing his own daughter?
VE: Well, could he?
[pause]
FW: To be honest, it’s not the first time I’ve asked myself that since she disappeared, but I really can’t put my finger on anything one way or the other. He was all over her a year or so ago when they first moved here, but the last few times I’ve seen them together she’s definitely been holding back. But honestly, you could say the same about my husband and Alice. A lot changes between six and eight. Girls just start to get shy, even with their own dads.
VE: And is there anything else – something that may not have struck you at the time, but now –
[pause]
FW: Actually, there was. I’d completely forgotten, but Barry came to pick Daisy up from school about three weeks ago. He doesn’t do it very often but I think Leo had a doctor’s appointment or something so Barry collected Daisy. I wasn’t close enough to hear what happened but she suddenly started screaming and crying. Which is not like her at all. She’s usually very calm, very ‘composed’. Anyway, Barry played the dippy dad card – the whole lost and clueless what-do-I-do-now look, you know the sort of thing. Which at the time I just dismissed as another ploy to get the attention of the yummy mummys. But it was a bit odd, now I think about it.
VE: And what’s he like – more generally? With you, say?
FW: Do you mean, has he come on to me? Then yes, he is a bit on the ‘handy’ side – you know the type, always touching your arm, the small of your back. Not safe in taxis, as my old boss used to say. He’s always very careful to stay the right side of banter, but I know what would happen if you gave him the right signals. The sort of bloke who’s always on the lookout, presumably on the basis that if you try often enough the odds are you’ll strike lucky eventually.
VE: And what does Sharon think about that?
FW: Oh Lord, he doesn’t do it around her! She’s the jealous type. Full-on green-eyed monster. I saw her look daggers at Julia Connor once, just because Barry said something about her looking like she’d lost weight. That’s always a sensitive subject where Sharon’s concerned.
VE: There’s a monster in Daisy’s fairy tale too. One with a snout and a curly tail like a pig.
FW: Well, makes a change from dragons, I suppose.
VE: You haven’t heard anything else about pigs, by any chance?
FW: Pigs?
VE: It came up when we talked to Nanxi Chen.
FW: No, sorry. Rings no bells with me.
VE: I see. Thank you. One final thing, Mrs Webster. Barry’s flirting - is Daisy aware of it, do you think?
FW: Interesting question. She’s very clever. Very observant. It wouldn’t surprise me. It wouldn’t surprise me at all.
*
Sent: 21/07/2016, 17.58
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
CC: [email protected]
Subject: Daisy Mason
Thank you for your email. You will understand there are issues here in relation to patient confidentiality, but I can appreciate the gravity and urgency of the situation. My first duty is to the interests of the child, and that being the case, I don’t see any problem in confirming to you that nothing I saw of Daisy Mason would suggest she was being abused. I would, of course, have taken appropriate action had any such suspicion ever arisen. She was rather agitated when I last saw her (about three weeks ago), but not in any way that would suggest abuse. At the time I put it down to overexcitement.
You did not ask about Leo Mason. He came in for his check-up about two weeks ago, just before I left for my holiday, and I noticed he had some fairly severe grazes and cuts, which Mrs Mason said were the result of some ‘rough and tumble’ in the playground. I spoke briefly to Leo’s school nurse about this just before I left and I will be following up with her next week. I therefore feel able to share this information with you as well.
If I can be of any further help, let me know, but please be aware that I will not be able to provide any further details about either of the children, or Mr and Mrs Mason, without the appropriate authorization.
*
At 6.35 Verity Everett rings the bell at 5 Barge Close. As she waits she smooths her uniform. It was still in the removals box in the spare room and smells more than a little musty after all these months. She shunts the belt down a bit, then back up – whatever she does, it never seems to sit right. She wonders in passing how Erica Somer manages to carry hers off so well. Not sexy, exactly, but at least she doesn’t look like a sack of potatoes. She can hear the press pack buzzing behind her, held back at the end of the drive, and she pulls her cap down a bit further over her eyes. But her face is still going to be all over the late-evening news. At least her dad will enjoy that – she must remember to ring and tell him. Not that he’s likely to miss it: ever since her mother died he’s had the telly on all day. Jeremy Kyle, Loose Women, teleshopping. Anything to force back the silence.
And then the door opens. It’s Leo. Which wrong-foots her for a moment.
‘Hello, Leo. I’m Detective Constable Everett. Verity Everett. Is your mum or dad in?’
She knows they’re in – of course they are. They’re under siege. But what else could she say?
Leo turns. ‘Mum! It’s the police again.’
And then he disappears, leaving her standing at the step, acutely aware of the flashing cameras behind her as the photographers try to get a glimpse of the inside. The killer shot. In both senses. Then Sharon Mason appears. She pulls her cardigan round her. ‘What do you want?’ she says tetchily. ‘I’m not inviting you in.’