Then She Vanishes(91)

‘I did wonder if Heather knew more than she was letting on,’ Jess says, a blush colouring her cheeks. ‘She was wearing Flora’s ring.’

‘What happened? How did you find Flora?’

The boyfriend steps forward. ‘I found her, Mrs Powell.’ He holds out a hand. ‘I’m Rory.’ And then he proceeds to tell her everything.

The waiting room is remarkably busy for a Wednesday evening, but Margot feels as if she’s been sitting there for ever, even though it can’t be longer than half an hour.

She had sent Rory and Jess home. There was nothing more they could do. She doubts they would be allowed to see Flora, and Jess in particular had looked shattered, unable to stifle her yawns. As Margot hugged Jess goodbye and thanked Rory, she promised to call in the morning with any news.

Flora. Her baby is home. She feels a surge of relief and elation, quickly followed by fear that she’ll lose her again. She can’t let that happen.

She gets up and begins to pace. She’s desperate to see Heather, although visiting hours are long over and she knows she won’t be allowed.

‘Margot?’

She turns to see DCI Ruthgow charging towards her, a determined look on his face, which relaxes as he approaches. He’s wearing a long wool coat with the collar turned up over the top of a suit.

‘Gary.’ Her mouth goes dry. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Jessica Fox rang me. Told me about finding Flora. That’s wonderful news.’ He smiles, although the deep furrows in his brow don’t disappear.

‘But?’

‘But nothing. The main thing is that she’s been found. There’ll have to be an investigation into where she’s been, of course, to determine if there’s been foul play.’

Margot dips her head. ‘I know. Heather … she already knew Flora was alive. She’d found out before the incident with the Wilsons. I was shooed out by a nurse before I could get any more information from her but I need to know … She said she’d found her at Clive’s Bristol house.’ She bites back tears.

The grooves in his brow deepen. ‘I thought Jessica found her?’

‘No. I don’t understand it all.’

He’s silent for a few seconds as he assesses her with those heavy-lidded eyes of his. ‘Come with me,’ he says suddenly, and strides off down the corridor.

‘Where are we going?’ She has to trot to keep up with him.

‘To speak to Heather.’

‘But we won’t be allowed.’

His mouth is set in a grim line as he says firmly, ‘Well, we’ll see about that.’





49




August 1994


Flora stuffed her belongings back into her bag. Her Walkman was broken, and the tape spooled out of her All About Eve cassette, like two shiny brown ribbons. She didn’t understand what had happened to her sister. She was just so angry all the time.

The rain was coming down heavier now, and her hair hung in wet strands around her shoulders. She shivered in her thin white blouse. It was covered with the blood from her lip. She’d never get those stains out and her mum would go mental. She had on a white bodystocking underneath, so she stood up, peeled off the wet blouse and threw it into the bushes, covering herself with her black crushed-velvet jacket.

Despite her good intentions of dumping Dylan, her heart still ached when she thought of him. It had all been going so well until today. And now he’d just stalked off, not even caring how she got home.

She hoisted the bag onto her back and set off down the road towards the lane that led home. It would be muddy now – the rain was already pooling in pot-holes and gushing down drains.

She thought she heard something in the bushes. A rustling, a moan … but she couldn’t be sure and she hurried on, her head down.

She didn’t hear the car approach until it was right next to her.

‘Flora?’ said a voice she vaguely knew.

She looked up to see a large red face peering at her. He had the window down and rain was spotting his forehead, landing on his pale eyelashes, although he didn’t seem to notice. Or care. She recognized him as Speedy’s brother. Clive. That was his name. She’d only met him briefly a few days ago. She thought he seemed a bit leery. Beside him sat an older woman with a fluffy dog on her lap that looked like a bear. She’d seen Speedy with that dog and had raved about it to Heather.

‘This is my mum, Deirdre. Do you want a lift?’

It was so tempting. It was still a good ten-minute walk home, and she was cold and shivery. She didn’t like the way Clive’s eyes travelled to her chest but his mum was in the car. He was hardly going to do anything inappropriate with her there, was he?

‘Okay. Thanks,’ she said, getting into the back. The car smelt strongly of wet dog and there were cream dog hairs all over the fabric, but she didn’t care. She was warm and off her feet. That was all that mattered.

‘You poor thing, you look exhausted,’ said Deirdre.

‘That’s a shame. I was going to invite you to a party at mine,’ added Clive. She could see his eyes in his rear-view mirror. The pupils were huge so it was hard to see any iris. A party? She glanced at her watch. It was gone nine. It would be getting dark soon. She’d be in trouble with her mum if she was late. And Heather … She bristled when she thought about her sister and their fight. She’d never forgive her for breaking her Walkman.