The Silent Ones: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller(73)
Despite her bleak thoughts, she smiled to herself as she got into her car and headed towards nearby Kirkby-in-Ashfield. She was looking forward to this evening. She and Lizzie had decided to have a pizza and movie night.
It felt so good to have someone to chew the cud with at the end of the working day, instead of staring at the wall with only a glass of red and a Spotify playlist for company.
Lizzie had said she liked spending time in Dana’s house, describing the small village terrace as cosy and comfortable in comparison to her own place.
Dana felt a warm glow when she said things like that. She liked being in a position where she could offer Lizzie a homely place to spend time together. Orla had been a high-flying lawyer with a fancy duplex pad in Nottingham’s expensive Lace Market district. Dana had never felt quite good enough, nor quite clever enough, when she’d been with her.
Now it was the other way around. Lizzie made her feel competent and protective, and Dana found she very much liked feeling that way.
She took a right turn onto a side road and pulled into a small parking area behind a new low-rise office building. The words Ashfield Angels were picked out in a fancy bronze-coloured script against the black background of the large rectangular sign that spanned the building. Quite unfortunate, Dana thought, that something about it was reminiscent of a funeral parlour.
She entered the building and walked across the small waiting area to a smart beech desk, where she announced herself to the young receptionist.
‘Dana Sewell to see Stephen Wade.’
She presented her lanyard ID, signed the visitor book and then took a seat as requested, looking around the foyer.
The walls were freshly plastered in sparkling white and hung with monochrome prints of various cities of the world. Leafy potted plants prospered and quality home interior magazines and Ashfield Angels leaflets were fanned attractively on low tables.
It occurred to Dana that home care for the elderly was the business to be in these days. She reached for a glossy leaflet.
Seconds later, a tall, rangy man with black hair and a grey-flecked beard appeared breezily from a door at the side of the reception desk.
‘Dana? Come through.’ They shook hands as she followed him through the door. ‘Stephen Wade, MD. Good to meet you, hope I can help.’
‘Thanks for agreeing to see me.’ They entered a spacious office to the right and Stephen indicated for her to take a seat. ‘I shouldn’t take up too much of your time.’
‘No worries. It’s nice to take a break from rota spreadsheets, if I’m honest.’ He wafted a hand at the giant slimline iMac monitor in front of him.
‘Nice place to work.’ She glanced approvingly through the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked fields at the back of the building. ‘Everything’s so nice and new.’ She gestured at the computer. ‘No expense spared.’
He nodded. ‘Business is good. People are living much longer, you see, and generally have a good quality of life. But they start to struggle with the day-to-day tasks like cleaning, laundry, light gardening. That’s where we come in.’
‘It’s a real need you’re filling,’ Dana agreed.
‘And I could fill it three times over if I had the staff.’ Stephen rolled his eyes. ‘That’s the rub, getting reliable people.’
‘Speaking of staff, that’s why I’m here today. I’m involved with the Bessie Wilford case.’
Stephen’s expression turned grim. ‘I know all about it. Heartbreaking stuff. Bessie was one of our regulars, and none of the staff had a bad word to say about her.’ He frowned. ‘You know I’ve already spoken to the case detectives about this? I gave them a list of names, staff who’ve visited Bessie in the last three months.’
‘Yes, and I appreciate you giving us a bit more time. Did she have a named employee who was her regular home help?’
‘No. We can only guarantee the same person if they book someone at least three times a week. Bessie was more ad hoc than that. In fact, she hadn’t put a help request in for about three weeks.’ He pressed a button and the printer behind him began to whirr. ‘Here’s the list I gave the police. There are only four names on it, and I’ve included their work mobile numbers.’
‘Thanks so much.’ Dana was delighted he’d volunteered the list without her having to ask or be creative about the reason she needed it. ‘I won’t take up any more of your time.’
In the car park, she looked at the note in her hand.
Four names that meant nothing to her and the police had already spoken to them all. But she’d done her bit for Juliet.
Maybe they would mean something to Juliet or Chloe.
Fifty-Seven
Dana sighed as she took in the queue of traffic in front of her. The council had been working on widening this stretch of the road for what seemed like months, and yet there appeared to have been little progress. Every time she drove by, three or four workers in reflective jackets seemed to be standing around having some kind of tea conference.
She had about an hour to herself before she had to get back for Maddy Fletcher’s final interview. Before joining the gridlocked traffic, she’d stopped off at the small artisan bakery in Papplewick village and bought one of their delicious four-cheese pizzas, which she’d plate with a tomato salad later. She hadn’t been able to resist a rather splendid-looking lemon drizzle cake for dessert although she knew Lizzie would put up a weak complaint about the calories she’d be consuming.