‘Zoom in on the woman’s face,’ barks Nelson. The young man does so but the grainy pixels give nothing away. The woman has shoulder-length blonde hair, that’s all that is visible.
‘Who is it?’ asks Nelson. ‘Ruth, do you know who it is? Cathbad, do you?’
‘No,’ says Ruth. ‘But I think … I think … it’s Elaine Morgan.’
‘Elaine Morgan’s here,’ says a voice behind them.
Sandy and Tim stand framed in the doorway. Between them is a smartly dressed woman in a black suit. Ruth finds her eyes drawn immediately to Elaine’s shoes. High heels.
‘She’s under arrest,’ says Sandy. ‘Found her at the university, trying to get out by the fire escape.’
‘I didn’t kill him,’ says Elaine tearfully. She looks round the room in search of a sympathetic face and finds Ruth. ‘Please believe me. I didn’t kill Clayton. He was like a father to me.’
Ruth stares blankly back at her. She no longer cares who killed Clayton Henry. She no longer cares about the White Hand, about Pendragon, Guy, Elaine, even about Dan. She only cares about Kate.
‘Thought she might be able to throw some light on this business,’ says Sandy, bending over to look at the CCTV screen. ‘If it’s the same mob involved.’
He hasn’t said one word to Ruth but Tim presses her arm sympathetically. ‘We’ll find your little girl. I promise.’
Ruth turns to him desperately. ‘They’ve got a picture of her holding some woman’s hand. Who is she? What does she want with Kate?’
‘She can’t have left the park,’ says Holly again but Ruth thinks she is sounding less certain. ‘We’ve been watching all the exits.’
But a woman who introduces herself as the community police officer confirms this. ‘I’m certain she hasn’t left.’
‘Then, what are we waiting for?’ Nelson turns for the door. ‘Sandy, have you got reinforcements coming?’
‘I’ve got back-up from three forces.’
‘Then let’s turn this place upside down.’
Ruth allows herself a slight breath of hope. The policewoman says that Kate hasn’t left the park. If she’s here, Nelson will find her. Ruth is sure of that. She sees his dark, intense face across the room and, in that instant, knows something else. That she loves him.
Then her phone buzzes.
It’s a text message, caller unknown:
She is young to fall from such a height. Perhaps she will fly? Who knows?
Ruth turns to the window and sees the roller-coaster, that nightmare railway track across the sky.
*
Judy puts Michael into his Moses basket. If she’s careful, he might stay asleep and she might just get an hour to herself. She could have a cup of coffee, do the Sudoku, maybe even have a sleep. She looks at the clock on the mantelpiece. Two o’clock. It’ll be at least four hours until Darren is home. Four hours until she can speak to another adult. She looks at Michael, sternly asleep, eyelashes fanned out on his cheek. She loves him more than anything in the world but, right at this moment, she wants him to sleep all day, all week, all year, until he leaves home for university. She hardly dares breathe as she leaves the room and goes into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Please, Michael, stay asleep.
Judy stares dreamily out of the window. Usually their garden is a riot of colour by now, but this year Darren has been too exhausted by co-parenting to do more than mow the lawn. Their hanging baskets are empty, the bulbs have all sprouted unseen in the garage. She can hear the laughter of next door’s children in the paddling pool, a radio playing, the far-off call of the ice-cream van. Summer sounds.
And then, suddenly, she is hit by a spasm of anxiety, as sharp and unexpected as the first onset of labour pain. It’s like the time, during police self-defence classes, when Clough hit her before she’d put on her body armour (he’s always claimed it was a mistake but Judy’s never been convinced). She doubles over, clutching her stomach. Someone she loves is in danger. She runs back into the sitting room but Michael is still sleeping peacefully. Darren? But he’s at work, surely nothing dangerous can happen to a computer programmer on a Tuesday afternoon. Her parents? She’d better ring them. She staggers across the room to get her phone but by the time she reaches it she knows.
Cathbad.
*
The Pleasure Beach is swarming with policemen. Nelson and Sandy run ahead. Tim follows and Ruth realises that he’s handcuffed to Elaine. She runs to catch up with them.
‘You know who it is, don’t you?’ she pants to Elaine. ‘You know who’s got Kate.’
Elaine looks at her. Ruth sees fear and – worse – pity in her pale eyes.
‘The woman. Who is she?’ As she asks the question, a picture appears in Ruth’s head. A suburban street and a blonde woman with a dog. The woman she has seen several times outside the cottage on Beach Row, innocent because she was a woman.
‘I’ve seen her before. She’s been watching me.’
Elaine still says nothing. Ruth is about to yell at her, or strangle her, when Sandy calls over his shoulder, ‘What did the text message say again?’
Ruth tells him.
‘And what’s the tallest ride? The Big One?’
‘Yes.’
Sandy looks up at the track looping across the sky. Ruth sees that he has gone quite green. Perhaps he cares more than he is letting on.
‘Bloody hell,’ he mutters.
They run past the Ice Blast and the flying machines and the people eating hamburgers and ice creams. Ruth finds herself elbowing past small children who are staring at the policemen as if they’re part of the day’s entertainment. Giant skulls, leering witches and grinning Cheshire cats seem to lurk on every corner. Above the sound of police sirens the rides still blare out their advertising jingles offering adventure, excitement, thrills to make your blood run cold. Ruth looks up at the towering structure of the Big One and thinks that her blood is already as cold as ice. Is Kate really up there, on the highest roller-coaster in the country? Is she scared? Is she calling for Ruth? And what will happen when she reaches the top?
She is young to fall from such a height. Perhaps she will fly? Who knows?
But Kate won’t fly. She will fall like a stone, like Icarus, onto the unforgiving concrete below. And then Ruth will kill herself.
They reach the ticket booth. ‘It’s impossible,’ the attendant is saying. ‘No one could take a child onto the ride. You have to be over the height barrier.’
‘What if he smuggled her on in a bag?’ asks Nelson.
‘You’re not allowed to take bags on,’ says the attendant.
‘I don’t care what you’re allowed to do. Stop the bloody ride.’
‘I can’t,’ says the attendant. ‘Not in the middle of a circuit.’
‘What if my daughter’s on there?’
‘I keep telling you, she can’t be.’
‘Nelson,’ says Ruth. ‘Look.’ As the carriages go past them, preparing for their vertiginous journey upwards, they see a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair. She is wearing a Simon Cowell mask. As she passes the knot of policemen, she waves.
‘It’s her,’ says Ruth.
‘Is Kate with her?’ asks Tim.
‘I don’t know. I can’t see.’
Nelson grabs the attendant by his lapels. ‘Stop the ride!’
The attendant grabs at a switch. The carriages stop. But it’s too late. The woman is already high. She’s not at the top of the track but she’s above the Pleasure Beach and the surrounding houses. Ruth looks up and sees her silhouetted against the sky, blonde hair like a helmet. She waves again and seems to search for something inside the car. The other riders, realising that something is wrong, start to scream.
Suddenly Sandy’s voice rises above all the rest. ‘What the fucking hell is he doing?’
Ruth turns to look. Cathbad has sprinted past the police and the park attendants and is climbing the steel structure of the ride, hand over hand, his long grey hair flying out in the breeze.
‘Cathbad!’ Nelson calls. ‘Come back, you lunatic.’