Blink(81)

Her brown, curly hair has turned white. She still wears spectacles but seems almost blind, peering closely in order to see my features.

‘Toni?’ she whispers.

I don’t answer and she stands aside, watching me, in awe that I am actually here, in front of her, after all this time.

When I get inside the house, I screw up my nose. The air is fetid.

‘It’s the drains,’ she says slowly. ‘I’m used to it now.’

Nobody could get used to that smell, it’s impossible. She must have dead rats blocking the sewers, waste must be backing up. It can’t be healthy, breathing it in, but that’s the least of my concerns. I’m certainly not here to advise her on hygiene.

‘Please, come through,’ she says, like I’ve arrived for a tea party.

We move into the lounge. The room is dark and smells fusty. The carpet looks as if it hasn’t been vacuumed for months.

She offers me tea and I decline.

‘I came to tell you that I know,’ I say, watching her. ‘I know everything.’

‘You know everything about what, Toni?’

‘I know you helped Joanne Deacon. You helped her take Evie away from me.’

‘I – I didn’t know who she was,’ she stammers. ‘Until I saw the newspaper, I didn’t know she’d lied to me all that time. She asked me lots of questions, but I swear, I didn’t know the reason why.’

‘I just want to know where she is. Harriet, where is Evie?’

‘You don’t understand,’ she says. ‘I didn’t help her take Evie, I just told her things, provided answers to questions she asked.’

‘Questions like what?’

‘I can’t remember. I’m so sorry about what happened but I didn’t do anything on purpose. I want to be your friend, I want your forgiveness.’

She’s babbling, confused. Her eyes dart around as she speaks to me and she keeps looking at the ceiling. It’s unnerving, but I have to remind myself I am here to find Evie and that I have to play a clever game.

And I have to remember that Harriet Watson has managed to fool the police once before. The worst thing I can do is underestimate her.

‘Could I use your bathroom?’ I say, standing up.

She jumps out of her own seat. ‘No, I’m afraid you can’t because of the drains, you see.’

‘Is it OK if I just get a glass of water, then?’ I change tack.

‘Of course, I’ll get you one.’

I follow her into the kitchen. We pass the steep, dark stairs on the right and I swear the smell is worse. I hold a tissue up to my face.

The kitchen is tidy but old and the cupboards are falling to pieces. There is a faint smell of damp. She runs the tap and fills a glass. While her back is turned, I slip a key that is hanging from a hook by the table into my pocket. It looks like a back-door key.

She turns and hands me the glass.

‘I’m sorry for your loss, Toni, I am. I don’t know—’

I don’t answer, I just walk out of the kitchen. She rushes in front of me, shepherding me past the stinking stairs.

‘Do you think we could talk?’ she says, her eyes glistening. ‘I’m so sorry for everything. I liked Evie, she was my favourite.’

I look at her and I think about the kitchen knife I slipped into my bag as insurance. But it’s too soon. If I find out the worst about Evie, then someone is going to pay. I don’t care what they do to me after that, I’ll only want to die myself if I find out she’s gone.

The only thing keeping me going is the feeling I am getting closer to finding Evie. The police seem to be retracing their steps, regurgitating old investigations that haven’t led anywhere.

But maybe, just maybe, a different tack could work . . .

‘I’ll give you some time to think about things, write down what Joanne Deacon asked you. Try to remember everything you can. And I’ll be back tomorrow evening to talk. It’s the only way we can ever become friends again.’

‘Thank you, Toni,’ she says in the horribly vacant manner she now has. ‘I will have a good think.’

I leave the house and walk up the street. When she can no longer see me from the window, I stand for a moment, leaning on a gate for support, gasping in fresh air.

She’s hiding something.

Something terrible has happened in that house and I am going to find out what.





72





Present Day





Toni





The next morning, I am up early, before Mum is even downstairs. Overnight, I’d been thinking about that smell in Harriet Watson’s house. What if it turned out to be . . . I can’t even think the words. Would I be strong enough to face the worst?

I close my eyes against the horror of my wild imagination.

I ring DI Manvers. To my surprise he picks up right away. I quickly tell him about visiting Harriet Watson and about the smell.

‘Toni, please, I need you to listen to me very carefully,’ he says firmly. ‘Leave it to us. Do you understand me?’

‘That’s easy for you to say.’ My stomach twists. ‘You haven’t done anything to find Evie for the last three years.’

It was unfair, I know that.