Thunder rolls overhead and the rain falls even heavier as people dart into shops or quicken their step. I almost run to the car park, grateful when I get into my warm, dry Audi. I wonder if Rita’s opinion on the missing girls is widely shared in the community and make a mental note to ask around, conscious of Wesley’s comment about Olivia being ‘vilified’。 I exit the car park, having to slam my brakes on as three teenage girls dart across my path, giggling and leaning on each other. One is wearing a Santa hat, the other has pink tinsel wrapped around her hair. They look college age. The same age as Tamzin, Sally and Katie were when they went missing. I watch them as they trip along the high street, arms interlinked, my heart heavy. And then I continue driving, my windscreen wipers swishing back and forth trying to keep up with the downpour. I can barely see as I drive along the Devil’s Corridor and have to slow right down so that I don’t miss my turn. When I pull up outside my cabin I turn off the ignition and sit for a while. The trees bend and stretch in the wind, their leaves rustling as though whispering secrets, the rain plopping into muddy puddles.
Reluctantly I get out of the car and scurry towards the front door, stopping briefly to extract my heel from the matting on the drive. As I reach the door I nearly slip on something. I look down at the step, slick and wet, recoiling when I see blood and flesh. It looks like a rat or some kind of rodent, or part of one. I kick it to the side and open the front door, my pulse quickening. Nausea washes over me. I close the door on the dead animal, hoping that a fox or cat has left it and it isn’t some kind of warning.
11
Olivia
It’s nearly 3 p.m. when Wesley’s midnight blue BMW pulls up outside the stables just as Olivia’s exiting the office shed. Apart from a quick chat earlier when she told him about Jenna’s visit and he went haring off after her, she hasn’t had the chance to ask him about where he disappeared to last night. He’s talking to her mum in the car park, their heads bent in conversation. It’s started raining again, the sky a deep charcoal behind them. They look up in unison when they hear her and she holds the gate open for them.
‘Well?’ she asks, letting it slam closed behind them. ‘Did you catch up with the journalist? You’ve been gone ages.’
‘I had to go back to work. I’ve got a job, you know. I managed to leave early, saying I had a stomach upset. Which,’ he says, holding on to his stomach and grimacing, ‘isn’t a lie. It hasn’t been right all day.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ her mother says, winking at Olivia as she strides past her into the office, and Olivia realizes that Wesley must have been filling her in already or she would have stayed to listen. Her mother always has an ear to the ground: she likes to know everything that’s going on in Stafferbury. After the accident Olivia asked if they should sell up and move away. Not far. Maybe to the next town so she could keep seeing Wesley. But her mum had been horrified. ‘I can’t possibly leave the stables. It’s a family business. Your grandparents would turn in their graves.’ So they had stayed, and Olivia had had to put up with the stares, the accusations and gossip, and then, by the time she felt well enough, strong enough even to consider moving away, her life was so interwoven with the fabric of the town that to leave seemed unthinkable.
‘So?’ she asks now. ‘Where did you run off to last night?’
‘Last night?’ Wesley shuffles his feet. He’s wearing a new pair of ugly platform trainers that wouldn’t look out of place on a guy half his age.
‘I woke up and you’d gone.’
‘Oh, that … yeah, I couldn’t sleep. I needed my own bed and you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you.’
She frowns. ‘So you just snuck out in the middle of the night?’
‘It was actually the early hours of this morning.’
Was it? She can’t remember what time it was. All she knew was that it had been dark. But considering it doesn’t start getting light until after 7.30 a.m. he could be right. Either way it was before 6 a.m. as that was when her alarm went off.
‘Did you see Izzy in the café?’ she asks, hating herself for it. She knows she sounds needy and insecure. But she looks so much like Sally. Wesley must notice too. Sometimes, especially in the early days, Olivia would stop in her tracks when she saw Izzy, and for a wild moment, a millisecond really, it was as though Sally had never gone missing, as though she’d been in the town all along and was walking carefree down the high street, her dark glossy ponytail swinging. And it would be so painful it winded Olivia, sending her into a spiral of nostalgia and grief for the only best friend she’s ever had. Olivia tried, about ten years ago, to befriend Izzy despite their eight-year age gap and had asked her if she wanted to go for a drink. Izzy had agreed – her parents might not have wanted anything to do with Olivia but Izzy was delighted to swap memories and humorous stories about her sister. They’d spent a few nights out reminiscing about Sally, but being with Izzy just reminded Olivia that although Izzy looked like her best friend she was an imposter, and it made her miss Sally all the more. Olivia realized then that friendship couldn’t be forced, no matter how much you both might want it.
Now Wesley tries to look nonchalant. ‘Yeah, we had a quick chat. Anyway, when are you finishing up here? Thought we could go to the pub tonight.’
‘About five,’ she replies.
He laughs. ‘God, Liv, at least fake some enthusiasm.’ He reaches over and tenderly touches her face. For a moment she sees rare vulnerability in his eyes. ‘I know it’s a hard time of year. But I do love you, you know, and I’d do anything for you.’
‘I know you would.’ She nudges the concrete with the toe of her boot.
‘I just want to take care of you.’
She doesn’t need taking care of. She’s a grown woman and everyone treats her like a child. But she would never have survived through it all without him. And now she wonders if she does love him or whether she feels like she owes him.
‘I know neither of us wants kids …’ he says, and she looks up at him in surprise.
‘Whoa! Isn’t this a bit of a heavy conversation to be having on a Tuesday afternoon?’
He laughs. He has a wide mouth that is too big for his face. It can make him look happy one minute and sulky the next. ‘I just think maybe we should move things forward. It’s about time. Live together. I can look after you. You need me, Liv. And I need you. We’d be a proper couple.’
‘We are a proper couple.’
‘You know what I mean. You could move into my flat with me. Get away from …’ He inclines his head towards the office where her mother is.
Does she want to get away from her mother? They’ve always been close and Wes gets on well with her. And it’s a big house to live in all by herself. She’d feel guilty leaving her all alone. Not to mention that she hates Wesley’s poky flat. ‘What about Mum?’
‘She’ll be fine. She’s a strong woman. And you’d still work here, wouldn’t you, so you’d see her every day.’
‘Can I think about it?’
He sighs. ‘This can’t be a surprise. We’ve been together for twenty years.’