‘A bunny?’ Tracy laughed. ‘I don’t remember there being a bunny in the Christmas story!’
‘Yeah. He’s one of the animals in the stable. He looks really cute. You’ll have to come and see it when it’s on.’
‘I’d love to.’
‘So you’ll come then, on Saturday? I’ll see you at the park, children’s playground at half ten?’
‘Yes.’ Tracy ended the call and sat on her bed thinking. She couldn’t hear Steve moving about in the next room. He was in the lounge; she was sure of that. She could hear the news on the television. He was in a funny mood tonight, sort of hovering. He was bound to guess the call was from Danielle – she never got a call at that time in the evening. Tracy thought she should push for him to meet Danielle and Jackson now. She was sure she was meant to have them in her life. Now that she saw how vulnerable Jackson was and how much Danielle needed all her support, and especially now that Danielle had apologized. She knew that they’d taken a big step forward and Tracy felt a commitment growing. If they were her life – they were in Steve’s.
Steve turned as Tracy came back into the lounge; he was jumpy. He turned off the telly and picked up the car keys.
‘Are you going out?’ Tracy asked, surprised but also slightly relieved that she didn’t have to talk to him about Danielle and Jackson. Not right at that moment.
‘Yep. Work just called – seems there are some deliveries need sorting out before tomorrow. You can’t object surely? You’re hardly here at the moment.’
Tracy smiled. It was her ‘I’m smiling but inside I am bloody angry’ look. ‘Of course, love. If you’re needed then you have to go. I understand. I wouldn’t want it any other way – my man the manager.’
She kissed his cheek and went to turn the television back on. Steve hovered by the door. The news came back on the telly. The photo of Emily Styles, taken by Danielle at the festival, was on the screen. She looked across at Steve; he seemed to be waiting, to be building up to saying something. Tracy couldn’t face it. She didn’t want the criticism, the anger. ‘Oh look.’ She diverted his attention. ‘They’ve found out the identity of that woman those boys found in the Regent’s Canal. What a shame – what a beautiful girl.’ Steve came to stand in front of the television. ‘Steve? I want to see the news. Can you move please, love?’
‘There’s no need to get cross just because I have to go to work.’
‘I’m not cross.’ Tracy blinked at him, even more confused than before.
‘You’re either at work or you’re with that woman and her son.’
‘Danielle and Jackson?’ Tracy felt panic grip her chest as she tried so hard to look in control and to stay calm and happy. ‘I’m not seeing a lot of them, Steve. But… you know? I think it’s time we talked about the fact that they have come into our lives and we have to accept it. I would like you to meet them.’ Tracy looked at his face. ‘Not now maybe…’ He seemed so upset that Tracy decided she’d been right that now was not such a good time to discuss it. She’d made a start at least. ‘Shall we have a proper chat about this when you’re home and you’re free?’
‘Oh I’m home a lot – sat here on my own,’ he said accusingly.
‘Sorry, love.’ Something wasn’t right but Tracy couldn’t work out what was at the heart of it with Steve. He seemed to be doing his best to start an argument. ‘I’ve been working long hours at Simmons; I asked for extra shifts – but then we could do with the money.’
‘Oh, I know. It’s all my fault, isn’t it? I am always going to be blamed for everything in this house. Well I’ve had enough of it. You go and spend as much time as you like with your new-found daughter and I’ll make my own life.’
Tracy was stunned into silence. She heard the front door slam. She couldn’t remember the last time Steve had thrown a wobbly like that; she had no idea what it was all about. She had to admit she hadn’t really wanted to discuss things with Steve because she knew he always reacted badly to stress. Tracy’s attention was back on the television – the tall, sickly-looking blond Detective Chief Inspector Bowie was appealing for the public’s help; they had to phone a number if anyone had any information about the dead woman in the canal. The photo of Emily Styles stayed on the screen.
Danielle was about to switch the news off and look for a film to watch when she froze as she looked at her friend’s face. Emily Styles with her distinctive auburn hair was smiling out of the screen just the way she was the last time Danielle had seen her at the festival. Danielle edged closer to the television and listened to the news report; everything else in the room disappeared as her brain tried to make sense of what she was looking at. She stared at Emily’s photo on the screen and saw the film of the officers searching the towpath in the background. Detective Chief Inspector Bowie was giving a press conference, recorded earlier in the day.
‘We need anyone with any information about Emily to come forward. We believe she was held somewhere for a number of weeks prior to being murdered and her body disposed of in the Regent’s Canal. We believe someone must have information about what happened to Emily. She was a gregarious young woman and a devoted mother to her daughter Sky. She disappeared on the fifth of June in between meeting her friend in Camden and collecting Sky from nursery. Someone somewhere knows what happened to her; if you have any information please ring the number on the screen.’
Danielle reached for her phone.
Chapter 14
Saturday arrived with a warmth to the sunshine.
Great day for it, thought Tracy as she checked her watch – it was nearly eleven o’clock. She had been inside the park for forty minutes. Where was Danielle? The kids’ park was busy with children dressed as Santa’s helpers and elves and fairies. Girls running around in princess dresses that still filled Tracy with a sense of longing. When she was their age she would have gone on and on at her mother to make her the best, the most beautiful dress in the world; and she would have got it too. Things were never the same after she got pregnant. Tracy walked across to a young woman with caramel-coloured dreadlocks, massive freckles over her face and a baby tied onto her back. She was running a stall selling non-alcoholic mulled wine and vegan mince pies.
‘Excuse me. I wonder if you know Danielle, Jackson’s mum?’
‘Of course.’ The woman was briefly distracted serving mince pies then she came over.
‘Yeah. I know Danielle well.’ She smiled. ‘She should be here by now. We were going to run this stall together. She should have been here two hours ago to help set up.’ The woman poured out a mulled wine for a customer. ‘Must have overslept. I’m surprised Jackson let it happen though, he was so keen. One of my friends is dressing up as Santa and we’ve all bought our kids a gift for him to hand out. I can’t believe Jackson’s not first in the queue. He was so excited about it yesterday.’
Tracy looked in the direction of Danielle’s estate.
‘Maybe I should go and see if she needs a hand.’
‘Do you know where she lives?’
‘Yes, I know. I’ve been there before. I’m going to go and knock on her door. If I miss her, tell her I’ll come back. My name’s Tracy.’
‘No problem.’ The woman went back to pouring mulled wine.
Tracy crossed over Seven Sisters Road and walked towards the high-rise blocks. A growing feeling of anxiety was making her walk quickly. What if the three men had come back? What if Danielle or Jackson was hurt? Tracy would never forgive herself. She knew she should have phoned the police. She sprinted up to Danielle’s landing and ran along to the pink door. She could barely breathe. When she knocked she heard a low growl in response. She knocked louder and waited. This time Scruffy answered with a bark. Tracy bent low and looked through the letterbox. Jackson was looking back at her.