The girl at the long wooden table is doing something on an iPad. Outside, in the garden, a man with a long ponytail and a Crocodile Dundee hat is weeding the flower beds.
`This is Detective Inspector Fawley, Isabel,' the woman says. `He wants to ask you about Sasha. So turn that thing off and pay attention.'
She shoos at the iPad, as if it will just fold itself up and flap away, like some sort of stiff electronic crow.
Isabel rolls her eyes behind her mother's back, and I catch her eye and endeavour to look conspiratorial, but I'm probably just freaking her out.
Mrs Parker turns to the worktop and the gleaming Nespresso machine. She hasn't asked if I want anything.
`I've just been talking to Patsie, Isabel,' I say. `So obviously I wanted to talk to you as well. Perhaps you can take me through what happened last night?'
The girl shrugs. `I already told the other bloke. The fat one.'
`I know, but it would really help if you could tell me as well.'
`We went for a pizza in Summertown `“ that place on South Parade.'
`Patsie said you got on the bus about 9.45. What time did you leave the restaurant?'
Another shrug. `Nine? Just after? We just hung out for a while after that.'
Like teenagers do. Like I did.
`Then Patsie got off the bus in Marston and Sasha in Cherwell Drive?'
`Yeah. And I stayed on till Headington.'
`And you got back home when?'
`Dunno. Half ten maybe.'
I turn to Mrs Parker. `We were out last night,' she says, flushing slightly as if I've accused her of chronic child neglect. `But we were back by 11.00. Isabel was in here raiding the fridge.'
The girl is looking at her iPad again.
`Patsie said the bus was really crowded `“ a bunch of foreign exchange students, she thought.'
Isabel looks up at me. `Yeah, so?'
`Did you see where Sasha went when she got off the bus?' She looks back at her screen and I dip my head, trying to catch her eye.
`Isabel!' says her mother sharply. `This is important `“ your friend is missing.'
The girl looks at her, and then at me. I've seen that look before. And on better liars than this girl.
`OK, Isabel,' I say, `whatever it is, you need to tell me. Right now.'
She looks distressed. `But I promised `“'
`I don't care. I need to know.'
She sighs loudly. `Look, I think Sash was going to meet her boyfriend, 'K? She'd told her mum she'd be sleeping over at Patsie's but when we were at the pizza place she changed her mind. I reckon she was going to see him. She didn't actually say that, but that's what me and Pats thought. She made us promise not to tell her mum.'
I can't say any of that comes as much of a surprise. But it doesn't do anything to shift my unease.
`Did she get a call or a text or something `“ just before she changed her mind?'
She shrugs. `Maybe. Yeah, actually I think she did.'
`What's his name?'
`I told you, she never said. She wouldn't even admit she had a boyfriend. But there was definitely something going on `“ she's been super secretive for, like, days and days.'
There's a flush to her cheeks now. Her mother smiles. `Don't worry, darling. You're doing really well, isn't she, Inspector?'
`Does the name Ashley Brotherton mean anything to you, Isabel?'
Her eyes widen. `No, should it?'
`Or Faith Appleford?'
`No.'
I sit forward a little. `Now, this is really important. I know you said before that you didn't see what Sasha did after she got off the bus. Can you think about that again and tell me if there's anything you remember now?'
I hold her gaze. She knows what I'm saying: I'm prepared to bet you lied the first time, but I'm giving you another chance.
The flush deepens and she nods. `I think there might of been someone parked there. Meeting her, I mean. We kept asking where she was going and she just kept smiling and saying we'd find out soon enough.'
`But you didn't see anyone when she got off the bus?'
She shakes her head. `I just saw her running up the road and looking, just like, really really happy.' Her eyes fill with tears. `She will be OK, won't she? I know I should have said something but I promised `“'
Her mother rushes to her and wraps her arms about her, stroking her hair. `It's all right, darling, you weren't to know.'
I wait a while, and then a little longer, and when Isabel finally seems calmer, I ask her if she still has the bus ticket.
She sniffs a little. `I think I chucked it.'
Her mother touches her gently on the shoulder. `Why don't you go upstairs and see if you can find it? It might still be in your bag.'
`But I already told him what time it was `“'
`It's not that,' I say. `The ticket will have other information on it as well as the time. Who the driver was `“ stuff like that.'
She flicks her pink-tipped fringe out of her eyes. `OK,' she says eventually. `I'll have a look.'
When she comes down five minutes later she hands me a shred of paper.
`This is all I could find.'
It's crumpled and the ink has run but it's still legible.
`That's great, Isabel. That's exactly what we need.'
* * *
When the lights change, Gislingham signals left and pulls up behind a squad car at the bottom of Windermere Avenue. He's on his way to meet Ev at Summertown High but he thought he ought to drop in and see how the house-to-house is going. He's not expecting much `“ he's not expecting anything, frankly, because if there'd been any news on Sasha, they'd have called him to say so `“ but he doesn't want it to look like CID just hand off all the shit jobs to uniform.
He spots the sergeant in charge a few yards away, talking to a female officer. Gis knows him pretty well. He's a safe pair of hands.
`Anything new, Barnetson?' he says, drawing level.
The man looks up and shakes his head. `We're pretty much done here. We've spoken to everyone between the Blake house and the bus stop. A couple of people recognized Sasha from the photo, but only because they'd seen her round there before. No one remembers seeing her last night or noticed anyone acting suspiciously.' He gestures at a clear plastic sack at his feet. `We've trawled the gutters and verges too, but all we've found is the usual crap. I'll get it sent over to forensics but I'm not holding my breath.'
Gis looks down at the sack. Fast-food wrappers, beer cans and bags of dog shit. `Alan Challow's going to love you.'
Barnetson gives a wry smile. `Oh, I don't know. It might make a nice change from rotting corpses.'
`So what now?'
`There's a team starting on the fields either side of the Marston Ferry Road. I'll pop over there later but the last I heard they hadn't found anything either.'
Gislingham looks up at the sky. The wind has just got up and there's rain in the air.
`Hope they remembered their wellies,' he says.
* * *Jayne Ayre @NotthatJaneEyre 15.07#Oxford folk, does anyone know anything about something happening on Cherwell Drive? There's a bunch of police cars parked up there.Alicia Monroe @Monroe51098 15.09Replying to @NotthatJaneEyreI live on Thirlmere Road `“ just saw a couple of officers talking to people on doorsteps on Windermere Avenue #OxfordMariza Fernandes @Brazilia2012 15.11Replying to @NotthatJaneEyre @Monroe51098They have called here also `“ they are asking about a girl. I think she is missing #OxfordAlicia Monroe @Monroe51098 15.19Replying to @NotthatJaneEyre @Brazilia2012Oh no `“ not again. Her poor parents