‘Hi,’ she said. Nutmeg went running to his bowl of water and started to drink noisily.
‘Victoria Clarke, I remember those expressive eyes,’ said Colin, standing up and offering his hand. He was a handsome, tall thin man with a full head of dark hair, despite his age, which Vicky knew to be late fifties. He wore a blue woollen three-piece suit with a wine coloured Cravat. His hands were very soft and he carried with him a delicious scent of aftershave. Vicky took his hand. ‘My word, you’re frozen.’
Ray was the opposite of Colin. Short and balding with a grey goatee. He had been the dance teacher at school. He wore baggy jeans and a blue Adidas sports top. He smiled with a set of crooked teeth, and somehow still managed to have a sexual magnetism about him. Vicky wasn’t sure if it made her feel entirely comfortable.
‘Hello. We don’t know each other quite as well, but I remember you,’ said Ray.
‘I didn’t take many dance classes,’ said Vicky.
He tutted and smiled again.
‘Shame on you,’ he said with a wink.
‘We’ve started early,’ said Cilla, holding up the freshly opened bottle of wine. ‘How about a glass to warm you up, Victoria?’
‘I don’t want to intrude.’
‘Nonsense. Here we are,’ said Cilla, pouring her a hefty measure in a tumbler. There was a faint sound of a car engine and it grew louder.
‘You expecting anyone else? Planning on making this a five-way?’ said Ray, winking at Vicky again.
‘Raymond, you need to behave yourself,’ said Cilla, admonishing him with a twinkle in her eye. From outside came the sound of a car pulling up into the driveway. Colin took a sip of his wine and kept his eyes on Vicky, watching her. Doors slammed and Cilla went to the window.
‘Good lord, it’s two police officers,’ she said. The doorbell rang and Cilla pulled her long cardigan around her.
‘I wonder what they want,’ she said, leaving the room. An image came to Vicky, of being chased, out of breath, across the flat wet sand to the water’s edge until she was tackled by two police officers. The image felt so real. She could feel the sweat on her brow with the cold wind, and the feeling of her lungs burning with the effort of running.
Colin and Ray were watching her closely. It was like they could smell her fear. Colin took another sip of his wine, and Ray lit up a cigarette, sitting back as he exhaled.
That’s the problem when you run to the end of the earth, there’s nowhere else to run, but over the edge, thought Vicky, as she heard the police coming into the hallway with Cilla, and her name being mentioned.
Later that afternoon, Erika heard that local police in Whithorn had found Vicky at Cilla’s house, and they put in place a plan to fly Vicky back to London later that afternoon. Erika decided to give Tess an update of events in person, and heard from the Family Liaison officer that Tess and Jasper were at their restaurant, so she drove over later that afternoon.
Goose restaurant was a converted townhouse at the end of the high street in Blackheath. It looked very quiet when Erika pulled up in her car. There was plenty of space to park on the road outside, and she locked her car and went inside.
The restaurant was light and airy. Beautifully decorated, rustic style with wooden tables and benches – much classier than she’d imagined – but it was empty, and she’d expected to see the tail end of the lunch crowd. Erika showed her warrant card to a young man who was standing behind the bar looking at his phone, and he directed her through a door towards the kitchens at the back.
Erika hesitated at the double doors when she heard raised voices.
‘Six is a pathetic amount!’ Jasper was shouting. ‘We need to do eighteen covers at lunchtime, just to break even.’
‘My sister is missing! I came here to see you, and you throw this crap at me!’ cried Tess.
‘I’m not throwing crap at you, but I need you to join me and acknowledge that we have a big problem. We’re in deep shit with money, sister or no sister.’
There was a long silence. Erika took a deep breath, pushed open the doors and went into the kitchen. It was a long, thin galley of stainless-steel work surfaces, and jars of herbs lined the windowsill, injecting a splash of colour. Jasper was wearing spotlessly clean Chef’s whites and leaning against one of the burner hobs with his arms folded. Tess was standing a few feet from him and looked like she was about to leave. She was wearing a scruffy ensemble of baggy jeans and another fluffy fleece and her hair was standing up in messy tufts.