The Girls Who Disappeared(54)

I sink back into the armchair, my head swimming. Dale’s taking ages. The fire is still flickering in the hearth and it’s making me sleepy. I can barely keep my eyes open. I’ve been rushing around all day and have barely had time to stop, and those glasses of wine haven’t helped. I need to be clear-headed to interview Dale. I’ll just rest my head against the cushion while I wait.

I must have drifted off, because suddenly there is a loud knocking at the door. Shit. I glance at my watch. It’s nearly eight fifteen. He said he’d be ten minutes taking Olivia home but he’s been almost an hour.

He’s standing in the doorway with a plastic carrier bag and the smell of vinegar and chips emanating from it makes my mouth water. ‘Sorry. I stopped at the chippie. There was a queue. Thought you might need something to soak up that alcohol. It smells like a brewery in here.’ He grins. ‘I haven’t eaten yet either.’

‘Hey, I didn’t drink that much.’ I’m thrown. I want to stay annoyed at him for lying to me but I’m so grateful for the food that I can’t help but soften towards him. ‘Thanks, Dale. I’m starving.’

He takes out two foam boxes. ‘Can you get some plates?’ I do as he asks. ‘Great, cheers,’ he says, as he unloads battered cod and thick-cut chips from the cartons. ‘I hope this is okay.’

‘This is perfect.’ I pick up a chip and stuff it into my mouth.

We carry our plates to the rustic oak dining-table and I get the cutlery from the drawer. Dale has taken his coat off already and he looks at home as he sits opposite me at the table, chomping his food. We eat in silence for a while, with just the sound of the rain hammering against the windows.

‘So,’ I begin. I have to say it now because even though I’m grateful for the food I’m still wondering why he lied about Tamzin. ‘Tamzin. She was your girlfriend?’

He blushes. ‘Olivia said she’d told you. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it last night at the pub. I didn’t want it to … uh … cloud things,’ he says, through a mouthful of fish.

‘Cloud things? I don’t understand.’

‘It’s, well, it feels so personal.’ He blushes. ‘I wanted you to see me professionally. I didn’t want you to think my judgement was impaired in any way.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought that.’ But would I? Would I have looked at him differently? Would I have suspected him of being too emotionally involved?

‘But you were open with me about Gavin,’ he continues. ‘I should have … well, I should have been more honest. Tamzin was my first serious girlfriend. We thought we were in love, but by the time I went to uni it had run its course. Tamzin and I hadn’t seen each other for months before the accident. I’d been up in Edinburgh since September.’ He shrugs. ‘Anyway. We were kids.’

I watch him intently as myriad emotions pass across his face: guilt, embarrassment, grief. ‘Does your boss know?’

He swallows a mouthful of fish. ‘Yes. Full disclosure. Don’t worry. I was never a suspect. I was in Edinburgh the night of the accident. I had an alibi and everything.’

‘I’m sorry. It must have been an awful time. I can’t even imagine …’ I’m trying to put myself in his shoes.

The bravado falls away from Dale, like a cloak, and he transforms before my eyes into someone much more vulnerable. More real. ‘It’s – it’s what made me want to become a detective,’ he says quietly. He lowers his fork. ‘It seemed so unfathomable to me that someone could just vanish like that.’

I reach out and touch his arm. Our eyes meet and something passes between us. It’s so fleeting that I wonder if I’ve imagined it. I look away first, get up and clear our plates. ‘Right. We should get on with the interview,’ I say briskly. ‘Coffee?’

‘Please.’ His voice is lighter again now he’s back in the role of detective.

We take our coffees and move to the living room. I set up my phone again. I can feel Dale’s eyes on me as I busy myself with my equipment. Maybe the wine has gone to my head but I feel as though something has shifted between us and I don’t know how or when it happened.

‘I’ll just start recording. I’ll piece it all together with introductions during the editing stages, okay?’

Dale leans back against the sofa, cupping his coffee and laughs. ‘I have no idea how to make a podcast so, whatever you’re doing, I’m impressed.’

I prop the cushion behind me on the armchair. ‘Can I ask you about Ralph Middleton? Do you think his death is linked to what happened to Olivia’s friends back in 1998?’

‘We’re keeping an open mind at the moment.’

‘Ralph was killed after talking to me yesterday, you said around five thirty. That’s just an hour after I left him. Do you think someone was worried he’d talk to me? Tell me something?’

‘It’s possible,’ says Dale, frowning. ‘And some of the evidence found at the scene does link Ralph to Olivia’s accident back in 1998.’

I let Dale fill in the listeners on the photographs. When he’s finished I ask him to recap the cause of death, which he does. ‘The pathologist report said his death was caused by a blunt instrument to the back of his head. Drugs were also found in his body.’