`Her mother's right about one thing,' she says softly, `she really does have talent.'
`Who the hell,' says a voice behind her, `are you?'
* * *
`This is Faith.'
The girl moves forward past her mother, into the light. She is very lovely, Somer can see that at once. Even the tangled ponytail and the smeared mascara can't hide how exquisite her features are. She's as skinny as a rake too `“ the huge jumper she's wrapped round herself like a security blanket only emphasizes how thin she is. She must have had the jumper for years: there are holes in the wool and the cuffs are fraying.
Somer takes a step towards her. `Why don't you sit down? Is there anything you'd like `“ tea? Water?'
The girl hesitates a moment, then shakes her head. She moves slowly towards the sofa, feeling her way with one hand like an old woman.
Somer frowns. `Are you in pain?'
The girl shakes her head again. She still hasn't spoken.
Her mother sits down next to her and grasps her hand.
`My name is Erica,' says Somer, taking the armchair opposite. `I know this is difficult, but we really are just trying to help.'
The girl looks up briefly. There are tears still clinging to the clumps of her eyelashes.
`Can you tell us what happened to you?' says Somer gently. `The man who found you `“ Mr Mullins `“ he says you were very upset.'
Faith takes a deep shuddering breath. The tears start to fall and she doesn't bother to wipe them away. Her mother grips her hand. `It's OK, darling. Take your time.'
The girl glances at her and then drops her head again, pulling her hands into her sleeves. But not before Somer sees the grazes on her knuckles and the marks about her wrists. And though her nails are beautifully manicured, one of them is broken; a ragged spike that would draw blood if it caught her skin. She's been home for hours and she still hasn't filed it smooth. And that, more than anything else, with a girl as self-conscious as this, tells Somer something is badly wrong.
`Your mum said you're studying Fashion,' she continues. `Is that what you want to do? Design clothes?'
The girl looks up at her. `Shoes,' she says, her voice cracking a little. `I want to do shoes.'
Somer grins. `They're my weakness too.' She gestures at her boots. `As if you couldn't guess.'
The girl doesn't exactly smile, but there's a sense of the tension easing. Even if only a little. And then she shivers suddenly. Even though the room is warm `“ too warm.
`I think,' says Somer, turning to Mrs Appleford, `that a cup of tea would actually be a good idea.'
The woman frowns. `She said she didn't want any `“'
`I've had a lot of experience in dealing with people in shock, Mrs Appleford. Whatever it was that happened to your daughter, right now what she needs is hot tea with lots of sugar.'
Diane Appleford hesitates, then turns to the girl. `Will you be OK here for five minutes?' she asks softly. `You can tell her to go whenever you want.'
Faith nods quickly. `It's OK, Mum. Tea would be nice.'
Somer waits until the woman is safely out of the room before speaking again. Faith sits rigidly on the edge of the seat, her hands clenched between her knees.
`You're lucky to have a mum who looks out for you like that,' says Somer. `I wish mine had.'
The girl looks up at her with a wan smile. `She worries about me, that's all.'
`That's what mums are for.'
Faith shrugs. `I guess.'
`But sometimes that makes it harder to talk about things. Especially difficult things. Because the more our family love us, the harder it is to say something we know will upset them.'
There's colour in the girl's face now, two red spots in her pale cheeks.
`So, Faith,' says Somer, leaning forward a little, `while there's just the two of us, would you be able to tell me what happened to you?'
* * *
Ev turns sharply to find herself face to face with a girl with greasy dark hair and jeans with rips at the knees. A little shorter than Ev, a little heavier too. And without even thinking, the phrase that lodges in her mind is `no oil painting'. Everett's own mother once said that about her, when she thought her daughter was out of earshot. Ev couldn't have been more than ten at the time. She'd never even thought about her looks before, but once the damage was done it was impossible to go back. She started to notice how people reacted to girls she knew were prettier than her. She started to worry about what she wore, to feel she mattered less because she looked worse. And here she is now, thinking the same about someone else. She feels herself start to go red, as if she said the thought out loud. Did she judge Faith the same way, without even realizing she was doing it?
The girl is still staring at her, her face surly.
`I'm sorry,' Everett says quickly. `You're Nadine, right?'
The girl doesn't bother replying. `Did Faith say you could come in here? Don't you need a warrant or something to poke about in people's stuff?'
`I wasn't poking about `“ I came up for the loo and the door was open and `“'
`No, it wasn't. She never leaves her room open. And I do mean never.'
There's no answering that.
Nadine stands to one side and Everett makes her way past her, doubly embarrassed now. She's never been a very good liar.
* * *
Downstairs in the sitting room, Somer is on her feet, putting her notebook back inside her jacket. When she sees Ev she gives a minute shake of the head. It seems the interview is over too.
Diane Appleford has her arm round her older daughter. `I only left her alone with you for five minutes and you start giving her the third degree.'
`I wasn't,' says Somer, `really, I wasn't `“'
`I told you already,' she continues, cutting across her, `Faith said she was not assaulted. And that's what she told you too, right?'
`Yes, but `“'
Faith's cheeks are red and she's staring at the floor.
`In which case I'd like you to leave. All of you. I'm sure you have much more pressing things you should be doing. Like investigating some actual crime.'
Nadine appears in the doorway.
`Darling, could you show the policewomen out?' says Diane. `They're leaving now.'
As she passes Faith, Somer makes sure they make eye contact. `You know where I am. If you want to talk.'
The girl bites her lip, then gives a tiny nod.
* * *
Out on the street Fawley is waiting by his car, looking at a piece of paper the size of a photograph. But when he sees them approaching, he hurriedly puts it away.
`I'm guessing from your faces that we're not much further forward.'
Somer shakes her head. `Sorry, sir. I was just starting to get somewhere when the mother came back with the tea and decided I was being too `њintrusive`ќ. Not sure how I could have questioned her without being at least mildly intrusive, but there you are.' She shrugs.
`But there was something, sir,' says Everett. `Something Somer spotted.'
Fawley raises an eyebrow and turns to Somer. `Oh yes?'