Treading softly with bare feet, Tom made his way down the stairs. The kitchen door was closed. He could hear several voices behind it. He stepped into the living room and crossed to the window that overlooked the garden. It wasn’t easy, pulling back the curtain, she would be so much closer now, but somehow he managed it.
Two eyes. Large and brown, with crepey, wrinkled skin around them, wrinkles that made her look old and not old at the same time. Two eyes staring in at him, with an expression he’d never seen before. He’d seen her full of mischief. He’d seen her threaten him and Millie. He’d never seen her scared.
‘Ebba.’ No sound came out, his lips were forming the words.
‘Tommy,’ she mouthed back.
He stepped away, allowing the curtains to fall back into place. She rapped softly on the window.
What should he do?
If he yelled for his dad, she’d go. And he wanted her to go. It was bad enough without Joe, he couldn’t deal with monsters too.
Tap, tap, tap. Louder this time. He had to make a decision before she broke the glass.
Silence. He reached out and moved the curtain. She was still there. When she saw him she pointed at the window lock, her hand jabbing up and down. She wanted him to open the window. She wanted to come in.
Not in a million years. He opened his mouth to yell.
She might have Joe.
He didn’t care, he wasn’t that brave, she wasn’t coming in. He shook his head and took a step back into the room. The curtains fell back but didn’t quite meet. He could still see her. He saw her reach down into the neck of her dress and pull something out. He saw her press it against the glass.
She did have his brother. How else could she have got hold of Joe’s trainer?
Tom couldn’t stop himself taking a step closer to the glass. When he and Joe had got their new trainers they’d customized them. They’d put stickers on the heels and swapped laces, so that Tom’s mainly black trainers had red laces and Joe’s mainly red trainers had black laces. A red trainer with a black lace was being pressed against the glass and the remains of a Spiderman sticker were visible on the back of the heel.
She had Joe. That’s what she’d wanted all along, one of the Fletcher children. She’d tried to get Millie and when she’d failed she’d gone for Joe instead.
She was pointing at the window lock again. She really, really wanted to come in. His dad and Harry were just along the hall. If he let her in he could grab her, then yell for the others, he could hold her until they arrived. Once his dad got hold of her, she’d have to tell them where Joe was. Let her in, yell blue murder and hold tight. He could do that, couldn’t he? He could be that brave?
Without giving himself time to think, he nodded at Ebba and held up one finger. ‘Give me one minute,’ he was saying to her, without any idea whether she would understand or not. He ran from the room to where the keys were kept in the hallway. One of them unlocked the windows.
Seconds later, he half expected Ebba not to be there any more, but she was. He put the key in the lock and turned it. As soon as the handle was pulled up, she was tugging at the window, opening it and clambering through, as though she’d done it many times before. He stepped back immediately, because he really didn’t want to go anywhere near that horrible lump on her neck. Before he’d had time to think, she’d dropped to the carpet and was dashing across the room.
He cried out and ran after her, but she stopped at the door and closed it. She was between him and the grown-ups now, but he could still yell and grab hold of her.
Could he?
‘Tommy,’ she said. ‘Tommy, please come.’
The window was open and the cold from outside was flooding into the room. Tom knew, though, it wasn’t the cold making him shake; cold didn’t get you like this, not deep down inside. Ordinary cold made by wind and rain didn’t turn the most secret part of you to ice.
It took the sound of his brother’s voice to do that; Joe’s voice, coming out of this girl’s mouth like a message, like a cry from a place he could never go to, like a…
‘Tommy, please come.’
… like a plea for help.
‘What I don’t get,’ said Gareth, ‘if you’re right, is why she switched from girls to Joe. She’s breaking her pattern.’
‘She is,’ agreed Evi. ‘And I don’t think she was ever really interested in Joe. It was Millie she wanted. I think she took Millie out of the party in September and up to the church gallery, and it was just sheer good luck that Harry and the boys arrived when they did.’ She turned to Harry. ‘But do you remember, she was there? When you and the children came out of the church, she was waiting for you.’
Harry nodded. ‘She carried Millie home. None of us were in any fit state. You think she’d been hanging round just to see…’
‘I think she realized someone was coming and fled,’ said Evi. ‘She just didn’t go far. There was still a chance it would work, that you wouldn’t get to Millie in time. Then I think she tried to take her again, back in November, when Tom and Joe stopped her. Since then, I think she’s been biding her time. Until yesterday.’
‘What happened yesterday?’ asked Alice.
Evi could feel Harry’s eyes on her. ‘Gillian is seriously infatuated with Harry,’ she said. ‘And yesterday-’
‘She saw me kissing Evi,’ interrupted Harry.
Alice looked at her husband, then back at Evi. ‘But what’s that got to do with-’ she began.
‘Harry and I don’t have children,’ said Evi, forcing herself to look Alice in the eye. ‘But Gillian knows we’re fond of yours. I’m really sorry, but I think taking Joe is about punishing us.’
‘She and I had words earlier today,’ said Harry. ‘I really wasn’t in the mood to be patient, I’m afraid. She didn’t take it well. Oh shit.’ He dropped his head into his hands.
‘If Dr Oliver is right, Gillian took Joe from somewhere miles away from here so that we wouldn’t connect it with what happened to the girls,’ said Rushton. ‘Joe knows Gillian. If she’d told him she’d been sent by his mother, there’s a good chance he’d believe her.’ He looked at his watch again. ‘Where is Jove?’ he muttered. At that moment, his mobile phone rang. He excused himself and left the room.
Silence fell in the kitchen as everyone strained to catch any part of Rushton’s conversation. They didn’t have long to wait. After less than three minutes, they could hear his footsteps coming back along the hall. The door opened. His sallow skin seemed to have grown paler.
‘Not the best news,’ he said, without entering the room. ‘Jove and his lads found what they thought was a crime scene in Gillian’s flat. Blood everywhere. Turns out she made an attempt on her own life this evening.’
Evi half stood up and didn’t have the strength to make it further. She sank back down again. At her side, Harry had gone very still.
Rushton shook his head, as though trying to wake himself up. ‘Her mother found her and called an ambulance,’ he said. ‘She’s in Burnley General now. Slashed both wrists. In a bad way, by all accounts.’
Evi’s hand was covering her mouth. ‘Oh my God,’ she whispered.
‘Is she going to live?’ said Alice. ‘If she dies…’
‘Take it easy,’ said Rushton. ‘I’m going over now. They haven’t been able to talk to her yet, but I’ll see what pressure I can bring to bear on the doctor in charge. And Jove hasn’t been idle. He’s talking to her mother about any connections she and Gillian have in Blackburn – old friends, relatives, places they used to live.’
‘I need to come with you,’ said Evi, forcing herself to her feet.
‘Evi, I don’t-’ Harry began.
‘I’m her doctor.’
‘No disrespect, Dr Oliver, but I doubt you’re top of the list of people she wants to see right now,’ said Rushton, zipping up his coat. ‘If we think a bit of persuasion is needed, we might call upon the vicar. Excuse me now, folks.’