Finding Grace(21)

‘I’m dying inside that Grace is missing. And who do you think I blame? Me. Of course I blame myself, for failing to watch her home safely.’ His eyes fill and tears career down his face. He doesn’t look at me. ‘My wife has had the good grace not to blame me, but it must have occurred to her that I allowed this to happen.’

‘Blake…’ I feel shamed by my secret thoughts about his phone obsession, the neglected path.

‘It’s only natural you would, Luce. I’m a fucking idiot. I should’ve realised, I should have…’

He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his hands into fists as he tries to conquer his emotions. I’ve seen him do it before, when his grandfather died.

‘Calm down, Blake. Sit down for a moment, please.’ DS Paige’s friendly tone has gained a bit of an edge. I can understand it: Blake is six foot two; the detectives won’t want him losing it. ‘If you’d prefer not to go down to the station at this stage, that’s fine. We can carry on with our interview here. But I will have to ask you some difficult questions. Try and think of it as part of the process of finding your daughter.’

The more I think about this, the more obvious it is that they must suspect Blake had something to do with Grace going missing. It’s ludicrous.

‘I’d prefer to stay here.’ Blake blows air out of his mouth, seems to pull himself together and sits down again.

‘Right then, sir, time to press on.’ It’s sir now, not Blake. Is it my imagination, or has DI Pearlman assumed a slightly more formal manner? ‘Let’s start with you telling us exactly where you went and who you saw during the two hours your wife took her nap earlier today.’

There are three pairs of eyes on my husband’s face as his cheeks fire up like someone lit a furnace beneath his skin. It’s always been a physical reaction of his when he feels threatened or challenged in any way.

He meets my gaze and I wait for something – an unspoken message, a feeling – to relay between us, like sometimes happens when we’re in tune.

But there is nothing, and his eyes look empty, cold even. It feels as though an invisible barrier has been erected between us.

Then, unexpectedly, he stands up, dusts down his already spotless jeans and gives one of his nervous sniffs. He keeps his eyes trained on DI Pearlman, who looks a little taken aback at his action.

‘You know, I think it might be best if I come to the station after all,’ he says.





Fourteen





I shuffle forward to get up out of my seat, but Blake puts a hand up.

‘No need for you to come, Luce.’

‘But what about Oscar? I’ll have to fetch him from Dad’s and—’

‘Stay here, Lucie,’ he says firmly. ‘Someone needs to be here for news about Grace. Just give your dad a call to explain what’s happened. I can pick the baby up later.’

The two detectives stand up.

‘But… why are you going with them? Why are you… can’t you just talk here?’ My words have ragged, unfinished edges. This change in his attitude doesn’t make any sense, and I don’t know what it’s about. ‘You said yourself the rumours will start flying if you leave in the police car.’

‘I’ve changed my mind, and what does any of it matter really? If it helps find Grace, then it’s better this way. You’re so stressed, and it might keep the newspaper hacks away from the house if nothing else.’

I doubt that very much. The small gathering outside the gate I can see from the window seems to swell every minute Grace remains missing. They’re like jackals, waiting to sense an increased weakness in their prey.

‘DS Fiona Bean is going to stay here with you, Lucie,’ DI Pearlman says hurriedly. He seems suddenly very keen to take Blake up on his offer. ‘Fiona is your designated family liaison officer; she’s here to answer any questions you might have about the police process and to support you through it.’

I’ve seen these officers on plenty of TV crime dramas. They’re put in place to help with the parents’ inevitable breakdown when the missing child is tragically found. They also watch and listen for any clues as to wrongdoing in the family.

My hand flies up to the hot wetness spilling on to my cheek. Blake rushes over.

‘Come on, Luce. It’ll be OK, I promise you. Grace will be back soon. There’ll be some crazy explanation and—’

‘You don’t know that.’ I push him gently away. ‘Nobody knows where the hell she is.’

He tries to pull me close, but my body is rigid with the tension that’s also keeping me upright. If I relax my muscles, I fear I’ll just collapse in on myself.

‘Hopefully he won’t be with us very long, Lucie,’ DS Paige says.

I don’t say anything, but the word hopefully only serves to make me feel worse.

I stand by the window as they leave, watching the camera flashes as Blake reaches the gate. He stops to speak to the press as they drive forward en masse to swarm around him, greedily seeking the smallest nugget of information to base an article on.

DS Bean hovers around my elbow.

‘Would you like a cup of—’

‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘No more tea, thanks.’

‘Sorry.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘They teach us to constantly offer, you know. Tea often helps.’