Finding Grace(19)

Still, if Barbara Charterhouse’s spiteful comments didn’t bother my husband, then I reasoned I shouldn’t let them bother me, either.

I lay down on the couch and Blake draped the fleece blanket over me.

‘Try to get some rest. I’ve already called your dad, and he says he’ll have Oscar for a few hours.’

Dad loved having the kids, but now I felt like I was imposing on him, because he’d looked after Oscar all day yesterday as well.

‘Can’t you watch him while I nap?’

‘I’ve got one or two things to do, but I’ll be home long before Grace is, so don’t fret.’ He kissed me lightly on the forehead. ‘An indoor picnic and a film later; I’m sure Grace will approve. I’ll get some snacky bits while I’m out.’

He brought Oscar over for a kiss, and then I heard the click of the latch as he pulled the front door closed behind him. The very faint hum of the Audi’s environmentally friendly electric engine started up, and they were away. No doubt Blake was off to do more good in the community after calling at Dad’s, despite the opinion of people like Mrs Charterhouse.

Her words rattled around in my head.

There are plenty of us can see right through the facade.

What did she mean by that? My husband was one of the most caring people I knew, with the purest motivations for helping people.

How could someone like him breed the kind of resentment that puttered out of that woman like toxic fumes?

I pushed the unanswered questions away and concentrated on relaxing each part of me, starting with my fingers, palms, forearms, elbows…

Finally, I felt myself start to drift away.





Thirteen





Sunday afternoon





For the next few minutes, Blake answers the detectives’ questions and I nod my agreement.

I’ve been a bit distracted, thinking through the exact events of the day prior to Grace setting off from Olivia’s house. I haven’t shared all the minutiae with the detectives, of course. Blake has just outlined the main points.

I don’t know how much longer I can stand this feeling. Feelings. Terror, grief, extreme frustration at the lack of control. Conflicting emotions all tangled up in my head like an unravelled ball of wool.

How can it have come to this? Only this morning, we had such an ordinary family life: thoughts of watching a movie later together, hearing all about Grace’s day. Now that’s been replaced by the prospect of a hellish existence without her. It feels like the devil flipped a coin on a whim and we just lost the toss.

Or perhaps this is my own personal penance to pay and not random at all.

I can hear the searching officers’ feet stomping about upstairs in Grace’s room, interspersed with sliding, scraping and thumping noises as they move furniture, peer into spaces, into shadowed, little-used corners.

There’s a marked change in the location of their footfall before the furniture-moving noises begin again. I realise they’ve now started in Oscar’s small bedroom, just above us.

And that’s when it hits me.

They think we’re lying. They think we’ve done something to Grace and hidden her body here, in her own home.

My body feels brittle, as if the slightest movement could break me into little pieces. I sit very still and hold my breath.

‘Mrs Sullivan?’

I pull in air. ‘Sorry. I… I didn’t hear…’

‘I wondered if you could take us through your movements after Grace left the house with her friend for the theme park. In your own words.’

It seems so pointless when Blake has already covered this.

‘I… I just showered and then we went for brunch.’

‘And where exactly did you go?’

‘Copper Brasserie, on Central Avenue.’

DS Paige writes it down. I can imagine him walking into the café to ask for verification we were there this morning.

Suddenly Barbara Charterhouse’s rant seems well timed. Everyone will remember seeing us there, no doubt about it.

But I don’t want to go into that unpleasant incident right now. It really isn’t relevant. Blake has said nothing about it, so I take it he doesn’t think it’s important either.

‘And when you left the café?’ DS Paige prompts me.

‘Well, we came home and I was feeling tired and a bit out of sorts, so I had a nap.’

‘OK. What time was it when you took your nap, and how long did you sleep?’

‘It was early afternoon and I slept for a good two hours. Too long, really.’

I think about how upset I was at the time, and how inconsequential it all seems now.

‘And while your wife slept, Blake, what did you do?’

‘I went out to make a few calls, work-related. I have a lot of things to follow up in the local community. Issues from my monthly surgery, stuff like that.’

DI Pearlman’s phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket and glances at the screen.

Blake and I sit bolt upright. Have they found Grace?’

‘Sorry, I have to take this.’ It’s only when he stands up that he seems to register the odd mixture of hope and fear that must be plastered on both our faces. ‘It’s about another case, sorry.’

‘Another cup of tea?’ the female officer asks tentatively, and I feel guilty for snapping at her earlier.