Dampness filled the evening air as she crossed the road and headed over to the wall. She stopped outside Alice Lenton’s house and leaned against the lamppost, then she stared over at the Jenkinses’ house. The suspect had been standing on this spot before the break-in, observing, planning his next move. Gina looked up at Alice’s bedroom and then at her lounge window. The curtains were closed. She ran her fingers through her frizzing hair and a few drops of rain began to fall.
She sat on the wall and took her phone out of her pocket. Still no message from Hannah. She rubbed her forehead as she imagined being in Cathy’s position. How would she handle things if Gracie had been the baby found on the library step? How would she sleep at night if her daughter had been missing for years? If a baby sharing her DNA had been abandoned? Would she obsess about the man who made the phone call that led them to check the baby’s DNA?
She reached into her pocket and found a stray lozenge. She unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth as she contemplated all that was happening. She missed her daughter. She needed to hug her and hold Gracie and tell them she loved them. She flinched as a sudden clap of thunder filled the air. She sat on the wall as the rain fell.
Back then, on the night of Terry’s death, as thunder clashed, she had stared at Terry’s lifeless body at the bottom of the stairs as Hannah screamed from her cot. They’d tussled at the top of the stairs before he’d slammed her against the wall.
She wiped the tears and rain from her face. Deborah was going through much worse. Was she imprisoned by fear or shackles? Gina had known the power of fear.
She had to crack the case and bring Deborah home. Avery? Nelson? Who was the hooded man at the school? She’d looked into Avery’s life thoroughly over the past few days. He had no connections to farms, no pets and she’d never seen him in a hooded jacket. He’d lived above the pub four years ago, and he still lived there now. It was his only residence. His parents still lived in North London, hardly rural, and he had a sister who had two children. She hit the wall with the flat of her hand. What was she missing? She would go over the notes from the Angel Arms once again and then look at Deborah’s workplace.
A little further down the street, Devina stepped out of her car. She must have finished with her calls.
‘How are the family doing?’ Gina called as she walked over.
‘Unbelievably well. It’s so awful, what they’re going through. Any news on Deborah Jenkins?’
Gina shook her head. ‘No news.’
Devina looked sympathetic, and waved as she hurried back towards the Jenkinses’ house.
Gina looked at her phone, at Hannah’s name in her contacts list. She pressed the call button. The phone rang twice and was cut off. She tried again and once again the call was cut off.
As she walked back towards her car, she typed out a message on her phone and held her index finger over the send button. She needed some company. She needed Briggs. They could talk about the case, eat together and who knows. A message pinged back.
Come to mine. We can order some food while we work.
She replied.
See you in a couple of hours.
Forty-Three
She watched as Briggs slept beside her. His bedroom wasn’t as comfortable as hers and she still couldn’t believe she’d ended up staying. It didn’t feel right. There was a bed and furniture, but there were no pictures, no cushions and only one flat pillow each. After they’d caught up on the case, they’d enjoyed a takeaway in front of the television. When they’d made love, her mind had been elsewhere. She was sure he could tell.
Briggs wasn’t Terry, she had to keep reminding herself of that. She could leave his house at any time. She gasped and took a deep breath, trying to force her tears away. Deborah’s case was affecting every aspect of her life. She couldn’t get the images of baby Isobel out of her mind, and the scenarios that her mind constantly churned up weren’t pleasant.
She took the crime book Briggs had been reading from his chest and pulled the quilt over his arm. She removed his reading glasses, leaned over and placed them on his bedside table. He stirred and half opened an eye. ‘Are you sleeping over?’ he asked.
Gina hit the shutdown button on her laptop and closed the lid. ‘Do you mind? I’m too tired to drive home.’ He shook his head as he rolled over and nestled into his pillow. She turned off the light. The case would still be waiting for her when she awoke. With heavy eyes, and a heavier heart, she allowed sleep to take over.
* * *
As she sank into a deep sleep, she dreamed she was standing on the landing in her old house. She knew Terry was in the house, but where? Then he ran at her, approaching at high speed. His dilated pupils told her all she needed to know about his current state. There would be no reasoning with him.
Hannah screamed. She needed to get to Hannah’s cot before Terry did. She tried to duck under his arm but he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back. She felt her head crash against the wall.
She smacked the side of Terry’s head, but he didn’t even flinch. A grin spread across his face as he pinned her against the wall and unbuckled his belt. ‘Please, Terry, no. Please,’ she said as she wriggled and twisted.
His zip became jammed. He let go of her for a second to tackle it. As he looked down, he stumbled at the top of the stairs. Then, with a gentle nudge, Gina shoved him over the edge. As he fell backwards, his eyes locked onto hers and his arms reached forward, as if he were pleading for her to grab him. But she didn’t move. She just remained still and watched as his skull cracked against the wall, then his leg scraped the bannister and he finally landed in a heap by the front door.
* * *
Gina jolted up and ran to the bathroom. Acid began to climb up her throat. She turned on the bathroom light and kneeled in front of the toilet. Her heart was whirring. Sweat dripped down her brow as she shivered. As she stared into the bowl, the feel of cold tiles on her legs grounded her and her heart rate began to slow. She grabbed the sink and dragged herself up. She ran the tap and splashed her face with icy water then stared at her reflection.
Her reddened skin was slowly returning to its normal colour. She shivered until her joints ached. As she leaned over the sink, she allowed herself to quietly sob. Had she shoved Terry down the stairs that night? Even if it was just a little shove, did that make her a murderer? She felt a yearning to hold Hannah as a baby in her arms and tell her everything was going to be alright.
‘Are you okay?’ Briggs asked, grabbing his robe from the back of the bathroom door and placing it around her shivering body. ‘Come back to bed. We need to warm you up.’ He led her back to the bedroom and helped her back into bed. ‘Are you ill?’
‘I had a bad dream, that’s all,’ she said as she wiped her face and turned away.
‘It’s not real. Come here.’ He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him.
She reached over and grabbed her phone, hoping that Hannah had texted her, but again there was nothing.
‘Is there anything I can get you? Water?’ Briggs asked.
‘No. I’m fine.’ She pulled away from his embrace. ‘I’m going to head home. I shouldn’t be here, we both know that.’
‘It’s the middle of the night.’
He was right. There was no point in leaving. She turned away from him. He turned off the light and they both lay there in the dark. ‘I’m sorry. That was embarrassing.’
‘Don’t be daft.’ He snaked an arm around her waist. ‘Let’s try and get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day.’
As she closed her eyes, she thought of Hannah again. She owed it to her to be there on Saturday. She was going to attend the service. She’d do it for her daughter. She wiped her face on the sleeve of his robe and enjoyed his warmth as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Forty-Four
Thursday, 7 December 2017
Luke lay there, half asleep and half awake, thinking about everything that was happening. It had been a long few days, getting to know Isobel. His phone buzzed. He grabbed it and saw that he had a text from Brooke.
I miss you.