The Girls Who Disappeared(34)

The doorbell rings as she’s getting out of bed. Her mum will be in the yard feeding the horses. She hastily pulls on yesterday’s jodhpurs and jumper and makes her way down the stairs, holding on to the banister for support.

Her stomach plummets when she opens the front door and sees Dale with a younger man at his side. Dale’s hair is standing up in peaks and the end of his nose is red from the cold. ‘Sorry to bother you so early,’ he says, blowing on his hands. The air feels icy and swirls around her bare ankles. ‘This is DC Liam Stirling. Can we come in? We’d just like to ask you some questions.’

Her mouth goes dry and she wishes desperately that she’d stayed the night at Wesley’s after all. She doesn’t think she can do this alone. But she has no choice other than to step aside and let them in. They follow her down the narrow hallway and to the kitchen. They look wrong sitting at the little pine table, Dale and his weird socks and this DC Liam Stirling with his bright blond hair and boyish dimples. He looks like he should be at college, not on the police force.

She offers them both a coffee, which they accept. As she’s pouring boiling water into their mugs, Dale says, ‘I’m afraid we’ve got some bad news.’

Her hand shakes as she lowers the kettle. She doesn’t trust herself to bring their mugs to the table without dropping them or spilling the coffee.

‘I think you should sit down,’ suggests Dale. He gets up and helps her carry the coffees.

When he’s sitting, facing her, he says gravely, ‘Ralph Middleton was found dead last night.’ He gives her a moment to digest this information.

She can’t speak. She remembers their last conversation. The hurt in his eyes. Her tears. Oh, Ralph.

She buries her head in her hands as blood rushes to her ears. She can hear Dale’s soothing voice telling her how sorry he is, and asking if there is anyone who can come and sit with her. She lifts her head. ‘No. I’m fine.’

‘I understand you went to visit him yesterday. Around four?’

She nods, her palms sweating. She can’t tell him what they talked about.

‘You were seen leaving his caravan in tears.’

She glances across at DC Stirling. He hasn’t said one word, but has a notebook open on the table and is looking at her intently with his clear blue eyes.

‘Yes.’ She blinks back tears. ‘We had a silly disagreement. It was nothing, really. I was … I was trying to tell him to cut down on the drinking. To eat more healthily. To look after himself. I felt a sense of duty, I suppose. He saved my life all those years ago.’

Can they tell she’s lying? She’s never been very good at deception, at keeping secrets. DC Stirling scribbles something down.

‘How?’ she asks, gulping. ‘How did Ralph die?’

‘We think it was a head injury although we won’t know for sure until the post-mortem,’ Dale says.

‘Could he have fallen and banged his head?’

Dale shakes his head. ‘It’s looking suspicious at the moment. I’m so sorry, Olivia. I know it’s a horrible thought that someone would want to hurt Ralph deliberately.’

Her chest tightens as it hits her that Ralph is actually dead. His animals. Oh, God, she hadn’t thought about them. Where were Bertie and Tiddles and Timmy Willy and all the others? She’d need to find them. She’d adopt them, bring them here. It was the least she could do.

‘Olivia?’ Dale’s voice penetrates her thoughts. ‘I think I should get your mum, or Wesley. I don’t think you should be alone.’

‘I’ll be okay,’ she says curtly, getting up to fetch some kitchen towel to blow her nose. Her voice sounds heavy, strange, like her emotions are trapped in her throat. She swallows. She can’t break down. Not in front of them.

‘Can your mum bring you to the station later to make a formal statement?’ asks Dale, as she hovers at the sink.

‘W-why do I need to do that?’

‘It’s just procedure.’ His voice is gentle. ‘Because you were one of the last people to see him alive.’

‘Can’t I just do it now?’

‘Of course, if you feel up to it.’

The thought of going to the police station makes her feel sick. So she sits down. Dale gets out a notebook and asks her a series of questions about her visit to Ralph. She answers, while clenching the kitchen towel so tightly in her palm that it turns damp.

‘And that was all you argued about? That he wasn’t looking after himself?’ queries Dale. A shadow passes behind his eyes. Suspicion maybe. Or disbelief?

‘Yes, I already said.’ She bristles with irritation. She just wants them to go away and leave her alone.

‘Is there anything else you can think of?’ probes Dale. ‘About who might want to hurt Ralph? Was he in any trouble? Did he owe money?’

He smoked weed and popped the occasional pill, she knew that much, but she feels it would be disloyal to divulge that information to Dale. ‘I honestly don’t know.’

He stands up and College Boy follows suit. Thank goodness they’re finally going.

‘Okay. Thank you for your time.’ She follows them to the door. As Dale steps outside he turns to her and says, ‘Please call me if you think of anything. No matter how small.’

It’s not until she closes the door on them that she breaks down in tears.