Woman Last Seen(18)

“Is that usual?”

“They are very close. They are on the phone to each other all the time. So yes, I’d say so. You should probably talk to Fiona.”

“And family members? We’ll need a list of names and numbers of anyone she might have contacted.”

“Okay.”

“Can we just have a look around?”

“If you like.”

“You mentioned Sebastian, do you have other children?”

“Yes, Oli.”

“How old are your boys?”

“Oli is sixteen next month and Sebastian is twelve.”

“Has she been in touch with either of them?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. They would have told me.”

“Can we talk to the boys all the same?”

“Well, I don’t want them worried.”

“But you do want their mother found?”

“Of course.”

“Then it would be best if we talked to the boys. See if they have anything to add.”

Mark follows the officers into Seb’s room. He’s on his phone. Mark feels a flash of embarrassment, believing his parenting is under scrutiny, when Clements comments, “Oh, what are you playing?”

“Brawl Stars.”

“My nephew likes Subway Surfers, have you tried that?” Seb nods. He isn’t fazed by the police; he has been brought up to trust and respect them. “Are you looking for my mum?” he asks.

“Yeah, we are. You could help with that.” Seb’s face lights up. He is a big fan of Sherlock Holmes. More the TV series than the books, much to Leigh’s disappointment. She is always trying to get the boys to read more. Mark thinks Seb is most likely imagining working with the detectives following them around, dusting for fingerprints, putting taps on lines.

“Can you tell us when you last saw your mum?”

“Monday morning, she dropped me off at school. She doesn’t need to—no one else is dropped off at my age. It’s embarrassing.” He blushes. The ongoing family discussion about whether he needs picking up or dropping off is a constant in the house. Mark doesn’t believe Seb needs the parental drop-offs and pickup, Seb can more than manage the tubes himself. Mark believes Leigh insists on doing them because she needs it. She misses the boys and feels guilty about the fact she is away half the week. She tries to suck up as much of them as she can when she’s at home. “She even picks me up on the days she’s not working.”

“Does your dad pick you up when your mum is working?”

The Fletchers have taught their boys not to lie. Specifically, not to lie to people in authority. “No. Mum thinks he does but I just get the tube home. Dad’s always here waiting. It’s our secret.”

DC Clements looks at Seb for a long time. Mark can see she wants to ask if they have any more secrets, but she is aware that he’s a young boy, worried about his mother. “Has she sent you any messages while she’s been away?”

Seb shakes his head; his eyes fill up with tears. He blinks hard.

“Well, here is my card. It has my telephone number on it. Be sure to tell me if your mum does get in touch, won’t you? Don’t feel you need to have secrets from me.”

Oli is more concerned when the policewoman knocks on his bedroom door and asks if she can come in. “Hide the skunk,” she jokes. Oli blushes. Both boys inherited the habit of blushing from Mark. They all three turn pink if they are angry, embarrassed or even sometimes simply happy. Mark thinks it’s frustrating. It isn’t a very manly habit.

Oli isn’t blushing because he smokes joints, it’s just he finds adults embarrassing.

Clements takes a different approach with Oli than the one she used with Seb. She doesn’t chatter about e-games or try to ingratiate herself. She gets straight to the point; she knows how to talk to teens with limited concentration levels or interest. “Have you seen your mum since Monday? Heard from her at all?”

“Leigh’s not my mum,” mutters Oli sulkily.

“Oli, stop it,” Mark warns. DC Clements looks quizzical. “Technically, Leigh is Oli and Seb’s stepmother but she’s the only mother they’ve ever known,” Mark explains.

“That’s not true. I remember my real mum,” mutters Oli. There is a darkness in the room. You can almost taste it.

“My first wife died of cancer when Oli was five years old. I suppose he remembers Frances a bit. But Leigh has been his mother since he was not quite seven.” Mark hated this conversation. It made him feel awkward and disloyal, to his first wife, to his second, to his son. Oli and Seb belonged to Frances but they belong to Leigh too. Also, he never knew how old to say Oli was when he and Leigh married. Today he has gone for “nearly seven” because then the mourning period sounded a little more respectful. Other times he’s admitted to six to show that Leigh had picked up the reins a long time ago. It’s complicated.

Initially Oli and Seb had known Leigh as Aunty Leigh. Then she became Mummy. She didn’t push the title on them. They elected for it soon after the wedding. And for years Oli had referred to Leigh as Mummy, then Mum, but recently he’d started to call her Leigh and insist she wasn’t his real mum. It had come up when they were rowing on Sunday. Mark knew this was just a phase his eldest son was going through—he was simply testing boundaries, like teens do. And yes, boundary testing could seem cruel, wounding.