Close to Home (DI Adam Fawley #1)(6)

She rings again (the third time) and then steps back and looks up at the house. The curtains are pulled back but there are no signs of life. She checks her list. Kenneth and Caroline Bradshaw, a couple in their sixties. They could easily be on holiday before the schools break up. She makes a note next to their name and goes back down the drive to the pavement. One of the uniforms comes up to her, slightly out of breath. Everett’s seen her about at the station, but she’s only just out of training at Sulhamstead and they’ve never actually spoken. Everett’s trying to remember her name – Simpson? Something like that. No – Somer. That’s it. Erica Somer. She’s older than most new recruits, so she must have done something else first. Rather like Everett, who has a false start in nursing to her name. But she keeps that one quiet, knowing that all it would do is give her male colleagues one more excuse to make her the one to break bad news. Or knock on bloody doors.

‘There’s something in one of the bins – I think you should see,’ Somer says, gesturing back from where she came. She’s straight to the point, no nonsense. Everett warms to her at once.

The bin in question is on the corner where the close turns in from the side road. A forensics officer is already there, taking pictures. When he sees Everett he nods, and the two women watch while he reaches into the bin and pulls out what’s lying on the top. It unpleats like a snakeskin. Flaccid, empty, green. Very green.

It’s a pair of tights, ripped at one knee. And small enough for a child.

*

Interview with Fiona Webster, conducted at 11 Barge Close, Oxford

20 July 2016, 7.45 a.m.

In attendance, DC V. Everett

VE: Can you tell us how you know the Masons, Mrs Webster?

FW: My daughter Megan is in the same class as Daisy at Kit’s, and Alice is the year above.

VE: Kit’s?

FW: Sorry – Bishop Christopher’s. Everyone round here just calls it Kit’s. And we’re neighbours, of course. We lent them the gazebo for the party.

VE: So you’re friends?

FW: I wouldn’t say ‘friends’ exactly. Sharon keeps herself to herself. We talk at the school gate, like you do, and sometimes I go jogging with her. But she’s far more disciplined about it than I am. She goes every morning, even in the winter, after she drops off the kids at school. She’s worried about her weight – I mean she hasn’t actually said so, but I can tell. We had lunch once in town – more by accident than anything - we bumped into each other outside that pizza place on the High Street and she couldn’t really say no. But she ate next to nothing – just picked at a salad –

VE: So she doesn’t work, then, if she runs in the mornings?

FW: No. I think she did once, but I don’t know what. It’d drive me mad, being stuck indoors all day, but she seems totally absorbed in the kids.

VE: So she’s a good mum?

FW: I remember all she talked about at that lunch was what great marks Daisy had got for some test or other, and how she wants to be a vet, and did I know which university would be best for that.

VE: So a bit of a pushy parent?

FW: Between you and me, Owen – my husband – can’t stand her. You know that phrase about sharp elbows? He says she has scythes. But personally I don’t think you can blame anyone for wanting the best for their kids. Sharon’s just a bit more obvious about it than most of us. In fact I think the Masons came here in the first place for the schools. I don’t think they can afford to go private.

VE: These houses aren’t exactly cheap . . .

FW: No, but I just get the feeling things are a bit tight.

VE: Do you know where they lived before?

FW: Somewhere in South London, I think. Sharon never talks much about the past. Or her family. To be honest I’m a bit confused why you want to know all this – aren’t you supposed to be out there looking for Daisy?

VE: We have teams of officers searching the area and checking local CCTV. But the more we know about Daisy, and the family, the better. You never know what might prove to be significant. But let’s talk more about last night. What time did you arrive?

FW: Just after seven. We were one of the first. The invite said 6.30 for 7, and I think Sharon had actually expected people to come at half past. She was really on edge when we got there. I think she might have been worried no one would turn up. She’d gone to huge trouble about it all – I told her, everyone would have been happy to pitch in and bring stuff, but she wanted to do everything herself. It was all laid out on the tables in the garden, under cling film – that stuff is so horrible, don’t you think, I mean -

VE: You said she was on edge?

FW: Well, yes, but only about the party. She was fine later, once it got going.

VE: And Barry?

FW: Oh, Baz was the life and soul, as usual. He’s always very sociable – always finds something to say. I’m sure the party was his idea. And he dotes on Daisy – the usual dads and daughters thing. He’s always picking her up and carrying her about on his shoulders. She did look very sweet in that flower get-up. It’s sad when they grow out of the dressing-up phase – I wanted Alice to wear fancy dress last night but she point-blank refused. She’s only a year above Daisy but now it’s all crop tops and trainers.

VE: You must know Barry Mason pretty well?

FW: I’m sorry?

VE: You called him ’Baz’.