We’re following one of the paths through Pearson’s Wood, past the lake and the deer conservation area, along the narrow tarmac footpath to the Nottingham Industrial Museum.
‘I love this time of year,’ she says. ‘The air is so clean and it’s not too hot and not too cold.’
‘Like Goldilocks.’
‘Pardon?’
‘The porridge – not too hot, not too cold.’
She laughs and looks at me like I’m crazy, but not in a bad way. We’re acting like we’re friends, even though I’m much younger. I don’t have many friends, and I hope I’m making the right facial expressions – smiling when I should smile. I should have practised in the mirror before we came out.
Lilah asks me if I have a ‘special someone’ and what I’m studying at school. I’d rather talk about her. She tells me about her family, which includes a brother and sister, who are both married with kids, which makes them the favourites.
‘I’m the disappointment because I haven’t added to the pool of grandkids.’
‘Do you want them?’
‘Kids? Yes. When I find Mr Right, or Mr Good Enough. I used to have a teacher called Mr Goodenough. We’d tease him by saying, “Do you ever feel you’re not good enough, sir?”’
We stop and take photographs of Wollaton Hall, a big old mansion in the middle of the park, that was once probably owned by a duke or a lord and is definitely haunted. Lilah asks me why I think Mitch is innocent.
‘Because he’s telling the truth.’
‘How can you be sure?’
‘I can tell when someone is lying.’
She laughs, thinking I’m joking. I pull her to a park bench and make her sit facing me.
‘OK, tell me something about yourself. Anything. Make it up.’
She thinks it’s a game and plays along. ‘At school I won a medal for Scottish dancing.’
‘True. Try again.’
‘My middle name is Penelope.’
‘False.’
‘When I was young, I tried to get rid of my freckles by scrubbing them with lemon juice.’
‘True.’
She hesitates and softens her voice. ‘My father has a mistress. I don’t know if I should tell my mother.’
‘You should tell her.’
‘Are you saying it’s true?’
‘Yes.’
Uncertainty fills her eyes, and she looks exposed, as though she’s stepped outside and discovered that she’s not wearing any clothes.
‘How … I mean … you’re saying … that’s impossible …’ She can’t finish, but she shuffles further away from me on the bench.
‘Mitch didn’t attack you. He left your door unlocked because you were always forgetting your keys.’
‘I forgot them once,’ says Lilah.
‘More than that.’
Again, she realises that she can’t lie to me.
‘Trevor didn’t bark. He always barks at strangers.’
‘He didn’t bark at me.’
‘It had to be Mitch.’
‘Why? He found you. He untied you. He called the police.’
‘He knew that would make him seem innocent.’
‘Or he was innocent.’
Angrily she gets to her feet and starts walking. ‘I don’t want to talk about this.’
‘What about the other nurses – Maya and Daniela? Do you think Mitch attacked them?’
‘Maybe that has nothing to do with what happened to me.’ She keeps walking away from me. This is the reason I don’t have many friends. It’s not just that they lie to me – people do that all the time – but I’m not good at letting things go. I scratch at itches and pick at scabs and pull at loose threads.
As we circle back to the lake, Poppy spots a squirrel and takes off, ripping the lead from my hand. I call out to her and give chase. The squirrel scampers up a tree and Poppy circles the base, sniffing and barking.
When I get back to Lilah, she looks different. Pale. Scared.
‘There was a man,’ she says, pointing to the woods. ‘He’s been following us.’
‘Probably some pervert.’
‘No. I recognise him.’
‘From where?’
‘I don’t know.’
I look around us, but the paths are empty. ‘Where did he go?’
‘He saw me looking and he ran off.’ She points back the way we came. I take a few steps, but she calls out, ‘No, don’t go. Stay with me!’
‘What did he look like?’
‘He had a leather jacket, and he was bald, or his head was shaved.’
I wonder if I should call Cyrus. What would he do? Tell us to go home and stay there.
We exit through the western gate and turn along Parkside. As we near the house, I notice a van parked further along the road – a food truck. I’ve seen it before. Where? The hinged sides are folded down, and the cabin is empty.
Lilah is chatting again, asking about what I want to do when I finish school. I’m still thinking about the truck. I do that sometimes – look for things that are out of place. Veejay says I have an enquiring mind, but I know the real reason. I am waiting to see a face in the crowd that I recognise. Somebody from my past, who is looking for me.
62
Cyrus
TV crews and reporters have gathered at Radford Road, setting up lights and cameras in the conference room, checking the sound and the angles. There is a flurry of activity as Hoyle enters wearing his dress uniform, the dark trousers and white shirt with dark blue epaulettes threaded with gold.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. You will all be aware that we are searching for a nurse, Daniela Linares, aged thirty-two, who went missing from central Nottingham ten days ago. She was last seen getting into a car which she believed was a minicab or a rideshare lift.
‘Yesterday evening we filmed a re-enactment of those events. The footage will be released to you today. We will also be providing an artist’s impression of the driver provided by an eyewitness.’
The conference room lights are dimmed. Hoyle steps aside. The first frames show an external view of the Little Drummer. Hoyle gives a running commentary, setting the scene.
‘It was a rainy Friday night. Nottingham Forest had played Blackburn Rovers at the City Ground, a five o’clock kick-off. There were fans on the streets in team colours. The Christmas markets had started in Old Market Square, but the tree hadn’t yet been decorated.
‘There were hundreds of people in the Lace Market area who may have seen Daniela that night, or the driver of the car, a silver Prius, which had been stolen earlier in the evening.’
Evie is in frame, standing on the footpath with the policewoman playing ‘Daniela’。 Both of their faces are clearly visible. Hoyle lied to me.
‘Our actress is wearing very similar clothes to what Daniela was wearing that night,’ says Hoyle. ‘A halter-neck bodysuit with a suede, high-waisted skirt and strappy heels. This is the image of the driver. Our witness only glimpsed him very briefly from side-on, which is why we can’t offer you a more detailed likeness, but it may trigger someone’s memory. If you saw Daniela that night, or if you know the driver of the car, please call our Crimestoppers hotline, or the incident room. Any contact can be entirely confidential.’