‘Of course that’s what he wants,’ I soothed.
‘But Glenn just walked out one day. He’d been in a funny mood for months before. Distant. And picking rows with me all the time. Then suddenly things seemed to improve. They were great for a few weeks, until…’ She shrugged. Her eyes were wide, appealing to me desperately. ‘He just walked out on me. Packed a bag and said he was leaving and wouldn’t ever be coming back.’
A tear balanced on the black rim of her eye, then tumbled down her cheek. She wiped at it, clearly embarrassed.
‘Sorry,’ she sniffed.
‘No, I’m the one who should apologise. I’m sticking my nose in where it’s got no business. I wanted to help.’ I took a calculated gamble, moved as if to stand.
‘No, it’s lovely of you,’ she sniffed again. ‘But… are you sure it’s what Glenn wants? What’s he said?’
‘Oh, well, he’s told me a lot about how much he misses you, but that he feels too ashamed to come back after the way he walked out.’ The lies flew out of my mouth.
She gave a watery smile, sat a little straighter.
‘Honestly? I mean, I know he’s not perfect, and, well, he’d have to make some changes, not take me for granted so much, maybe take me out once in a while, but, well, I might be willing to forgive him.’
‘So, do you mind me asking… What exactly happened between the two of you? It was back in September, is that right?’
‘January,’ she corrected.
‘He didn’t leave you until January? I must have got my wires crossed. I thought he went in September. To go travelling?’
‘Travelling! That takes money. We haven’t even travelled to Skegness for a day trip in years.’
My mind raced at her answer. So Glenn had definitely been lying about being in Australia. I knew it! He had moved straight to Wapentake after leaving his wife in January.
Marcie gave a sad sigh, collecting herself.
‘He’d been out of sorts for about six months. But then there was all that terrible business. You’ve seen it in the news, you know, about that little girl, Tiffany Jones, getting snatched off the street in the middle of the night? Horribly murdered.’ She shuddered. I did too. Another poor girl meeting a violent end. But I couldn’t allow myself to get upset about it, or connect with it emotionally – to do so would give the game away, and it was too important for that. So I forced myself to keep my journalist head on, pleased the subject had come up so easily. Marcie had presented it to me on a plate.
She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if worried she might be overheard.
‘Our neighbour’s girl was mates with the poor mite, you know. Terrible business. Well, she and Glenn have always got on well. Honest, he’s like an uncle to her, buys her presents, gets through to her when her parents can’t; it’s a gift. He even helps her with her phone and computers and stuff – he’s good that way.’
‘Is this Katie? Your neighbour’s girl’s name is Katie?’
‘That’s right! The one you got confused about; thought she was Glenn’s daughter!’ She chuckled at my foolish ‘mistake’. ‘Thing is, Katie was devastated by Tiffany’s murder. I mean, they weren’t close, but they knew each other, texted sometimes, and something like that’s bound to upset a child, isn’t it? So Katie’s parents asked Glenn to keep an eye on her, too, and it seemed to snap him out of his mood. He was like a different person for a while. Couldn’t do enough for me. But then one night he just upped and left me. Out of the blue. Said he couldn’t stand to live here any more. Couldn’t stand me any more.’
She hunched in on herself again. Her hair fell around her face, but I could hear her crying. I took her hand.
‘I’m so sorry.’ I hesitated. ‘Did Glenn know Tiffany? Had he ever met her?’
Marcie shook her head, high forehead crinkled at the question.
‘I thought he might be upset about her death, and that had made him act out of character, leaving you,’ I improvised. ‘He’s, er, really good with kids, isn’t he?’
Her bottom lip quivered as she nodded her reply. ‘Loves them. Has a real way with them, you know? It’s such a shame we never had any. We tried, but we couldn’t. My fault,’ she added hastily. ‘My fault.’
This was all well and good, but how the hell was I going to ask about the notebook, Beth? As I thought, I ran over the conversation, buying time by sipping my coffee. Suddenly a fragment of the conversation floated up. Something that didn’t fit.
‘Did you say Glenn helped Katie with her phone?’
‘He’s a whizz at stuff like that.’ Marcie looked proud. I looked confused.
‘Glenn’s useless with phones, it took him forever to get the ringtone off Roza’s mobile,’ I muttered to myself.
‘Oh, he’s still nicking ringtones, is he?’ Marcie smiled. Shook her head indulgently. ‘He did that with Katie too. Downloaded her ringtone to cheer himself up. Something to do with Bluetooth or something. Oh, I did laugh at him, wanting the same ringtone as a twelve-year-old kid.’
For some reason, that made me go cold. I felt as if I was missing something vital, just at the tip of my fingers. All I had to do was stretch, and I’d be there.
What if Glenn had got Tiffany’s number from Katie’s phone?
‘Did Tiffany come round much? To visit Katie?’ I asked.
‘Don’t know. Got the impression she’d never been round, actually. Like I say, they weren’t close, but close enough for Katie to be hit hard. Don’t expect anyone you know to die, not at that age, do you?’
I blinked rapidly at the inadvertent reminder of your own tragically short life. Chewed hard on the side of my cheek to stop the tears and made myself concentrate on Tiffany. I wouldn’t – couldn’t – think about you.
If Glenn had never seen Tiffany, why would he target her? Then again, maybe Marcie was confused, and the girl had often visited Katie. Maybe Glenn had simply found the notebook on the street and had no idea it belonged to a murdered child. Maybe he knew the person who had hurt her.
That was a whole load of maybes.
Frustration built; I needed to know more.
‘What about the notebook? Glenn’s pink notebook?’ I blurted.
Marcie looked at me like I was mad.
‘The bright pink Moleskine notebook that he always carries with him?’ My voice was urgent now. ‘Do you know where he got it from? When did he start carrying it? It was after Tiffany disappeared, wasn’t it?’
She flicked her yellow hair off her shoulders suddenly. Her eyebrows, so pale they were almost invisible, pulled together sharply.
‘What are you on about? Why are you asking all this? I don’t know anything about a notebook.’
She stood. ‘I’ve, er, just remembered that I’ve got to nip out now. Sorry. Tell Glenn he can call me any time. And, er, I hope your girl gets well soon.’
Damn! I had completely freaked her out with my strange questions. I made myself calm.
‘Thank you,’ I murmured, standing too. ‘I’ll pass the message on to Glenn.’