Her Perfect Family(77)

Instead she ‘wakes’ always to the sound of the sea. Soft and whispering. But she’s not awake, is she? That’s the cruelty of it here. Every time she opens her eyes, she’s trapped in the same limbo. The same dream? The only new thing is that sometimes now there are distant voices too, as if coming from the sky.

One time, it was like an audio book playing on the breeze. When she listened more closely, it sounded like her mother’s voice as the narrator. Strange. Impossible. She felt her ears for earbuds and her pocket for a phone to turn up the volume but there was no phone. So where was it coming from?

She called out – turn it up; I can’t quite hear – but no one answered so she closed her eyes and strained to keep very, very still to listen. Familiar words. Familiar names. Maggie Tulliver. The Mill on the Floss. It took her back to school, reading in the library at lunchtime, and she felt a shiver, remembering how the story ends so badly. So sadly.

She thinks again of the sea, always stretching so far in front of her in these dreams. Waves rolling in the distance. Sometimes she wonders if she’s supposed to swim. Is that it? But she’s afraid of the currents and the rip tides. She remembers her mother at the beach when she was little – watch the flags; there are rip tides. And she thinks again of Maggie Tulliver. The water. Sinking down, down.

She wants so badly to go home but she just can’t work out how. She still can’t feel one of her legs properly, as if she’s slept on it awkwardly. She waits for the feeling to return but how can she swim meantime? Will her arms alone be strong enough?

In the last dream or waking, or whatever this is, when she opened her eyes there was this huge flash of light in the sky. Not blue. No clouds. Just this huge expanse of blinding light. She must, by mistake, have looked straight into the sun. It hurt and so she closed her eyes.

And then, in the darkness, she felt that lovely thing again. Warmth on her skin. Like the soft spray from the sea on to her forehead. Only somehow she knows that it isn’t the sea mist . . .

Suddenly she aches for her mother. For the voice on the breeze. And she misses her so very, very badly that it physically hurts deep inside her. She wants to cry but can never find any tears.





CHAPTER 58


THE PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR


Nearing the cathedral, Matthew pulls into a parking space as his phone rings. Mel.

‘I’ve got a uniformed team there but no armed response. I’m not happy. Think we should leave it to the locals. They can liaise with the cathedral.’

‘Wendy and I have a plan. We can do this, Mel.’

‘Wendy? No way. I don’t want that woman anywhere near this, Matthew. Have you gone mad?’

‘Mel. You have to trust me. We’ve talked it through on the drive. If Laura is there, she’ll respond to her. I know she will. This will work. Laura must know what I look like. Wendy’s our best bet. If Laura sees uniforms, she could panic.’

Matthew thinks of the message in the note given to Amelie, now in the forensics lab. You have to help me, Matthew. No one believes me. He’s not who he says he is.

‘Did you get through to Laura’s mother?’

‘Yes. And she confirms that Laura’s been talking about the anniversary – silver wedding. Obsessing again about finding the real Ed. But she didn’t take it seriously.’

‘Right. So this could be more than a hunch?’

There’s a very long pause during which Matthew gets out of the car and moves to his boot. He signals to his backpack and Wendy nods. He watches her take out his bulletproof vest and take off her jacket to put it on underneath. He’s worried it will show but thankfully Wendy’s jacket has a high collar.

‘Any progress with Sam’s wife?’ Matthew checks his watch as he moves off, Wendy following as she buttons up her jacket. Eleven o’clock. They need to move.

‘Her car’s been picked up on motorway cameras. We’re on it. Local car tailing.’

‘Good. That’s good. So will you message uniformed to let me take charge of this here? Please, Mel. I’ve got this.’

There’s another pause.

‘I want you both in vests. Do you have a spare?’

‘Yes.’ Another lie. But he needs to be there too, albeit out of sight. He’s thinking of Amelie. The doll with the bleeding eyes. Laura at the school boundary. He needs this to be over.

‘We need clearance from the cathedral.’

‘There isn’t time, Mel. Laura could get away.’

‘I can’t have the public put at risk.’

‘If Laura’s about with a gun in her bag, they’re already at risk. I can handle this, Mel. I’ll keep everyone else away. Keep it nice and calm.’

‘It’s risky, Matt.’

‘Look. You need to trust me. Message uniformed to stay out of sight – and let me know where they are. And can you tell them they answer to me? Can you do that?’

‘OK.’ She pauses. ‘Matt. Good luck.’

Matthew releases a breath and can feel his adrenaline pumping. Wendy has a good plan but if it backfires, it will be Mel’s head on the block.

He puts his phone back in his pocket and updates Wendy as they head to the cathedral. There’s a market en route; a lot of people about. He remembers the chaos at the graduation ceremony. Everyone running . . .