`Can we go now?'
He's staring at her T-shirt. It says BeyoncГ© in pink and blue sequins. She blushes. `The DI was kind enough to lend me this.'
`One of my daughter's,' says Saumarez genially. Which makes Gislingham suspicious, straight away. Because as he clocked over an hour ago, the DI's not wearing a ring.
There's a pause that threatens to become embarrassing, then Saumarez clears his throat. `If there's anything else I can help with, you know where to find me.'
`Talk about up himself,' says Gislingham as they walk towards his car.
Somer flushes a little. `Oh, I don't know. Seems OK to me.'
It's on the tip of Gislingham's tongue to ask what Fawley would think of her making nice with another DI but he stops himself just in time. After all, he doesn't actually know there's anything going on between her and the boss. And what she does in her private life is her business. Obviously. But all the same, there's no getting away from the fact that he's pissed off, and pissed off that he's pissed off, and doubly pissed off that she knows he's pissed off and she probably thinks it's all because she sent them on this bloody wild goose chase.
The journey back is all but silent.
Telephone interview with Stacey Gunn, 9 January 2018, 9.11 a.m.
On the call, DC E. Somer
SG:Hello? Who's that? ES:My name is Detective Constable Erica Somer. The switchboard put you through to me `“ I'm part of the team investigating the fire in Southey Road. SG:Right. Good. I saw the appeal you put out. On the local news. That's why I'm calling. ES:Did you know the Esmonds, Ms Gunn? SG:Just her. Samantha. We did Pilates together. I never knew where she lived so I didn't realize it was her house in that awful fire. But I saw him once `“ her husband. He picked her up after a session. That's why I recognized him on the TV. ES:When did you last see Mrs Esmond? SG:She hasn't come much recently. To the class, I mean. She stopped when she got pregnant and she hasn't really been back since. ES:So you haven't seen her for over three years? SG:Sorry, I'm not making myself very clear. I saw her at the doctor's `“ the one off the Woodstock Road. Must have been about two months ago. She had both the kids with her. But to be honest, I almost didn't recognize her. She looked awful. Hair all rats' tails, no make-up. She'd always been so beautifully turned out before. Even for a Pilates class. I think her husband liked it that way. ES:What makes you say that? SG:That day he turned up `“ he helped her put on her coat, and then he stepped back and looked at her, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a bit creepy, to be honest. ES:Did she ever talk to you about her husband? SG:Not really. Nothing more than general stuff. But looking back at it now it was as if she was being really careful what she said about him. Making sure she didn't say anything out of place. ES:I see. You said you saw Mrs Esmond at the doctor's. Did she say what she was there for? SG:Well, I know it wasn't for the kids. When she went in it was her name they called. But if you ask me, it was pretty obvious. ES:Yes? SG:Post-natal depression. A cousin of mine had it. She looked exactly the same. Like the light had gone out in her eyes.***
Somer puts down the phone and sits there for a moment. Then she gets up quickly and leaves the room. Five minutes later Everett pushes open the door to the Ladies and finds her motionless, staring into the mirror.
`You OK?'
Somer sighs. `Was it that obvious?'
Everett smiles drily. `Probably not to most of the blokes. But if you're still worrying about the Calshot thing, then seriously, don't. It was a good call. Imagine what would have happened if he'd actually been there and we didn't bother checking it out `“'
`It's not that,' says Somer quickly. `I was just talking to one of Samantha Esmond's friends. Or what I suspect was the nearest thing she had to a `њfriend`ќ.'
Everett comes over to join her, leaning against the basin. `You're right. I hadn't thought about it before, but no one else who knew her has come forward, have they?'
`I get the impression her husband doesn't `њapprove`ќ of friends very much.'
`So what did this woman say?'
Somer turns to face her. `She saw her at the doctor's. Samantha didn't say why she was there but her friend thinks it might have been post-natal depression. She recognized the signs `“ she knew someone who'd had it.'
The two women are silent for a moment. Somer has turned away again but Everett is still watching her. Suddenly, several stray observations she's made about Somer since they became friends fall into place.
`You do, too. Don't you. Know someone, I mean.'
Somer glances up. `My sister. She's three years older than me.'
`What happened?' asks Everett softly.
Somer sighs. `It was bloody awful. Kath was always one of those people you struggle to keep up with. Completely gorgeous to look at, for a start `“'
Which might explain something about Somer, too, thinks Everett. For someone so attractive, Somer's never seemed at all fixated by her looks. But if she has a stunner for a sister, perhaps that explains it.
`Kath was always top stream at school `“ she got a great degree, a job in a major law firm, married a guy who adored her. Then she hit thirty and decided that if she was going to have a baby she'd better get on with it. She had all these plans `“ she'd hire a live-in au pair, go back to work, have it all. And the baby was beautiful `“ the most gorgeous little girl you've ever seen. And Kath could hardly bear to look at her.'
Everett reaches out and touches Somer lightly on the shoulder. She knows how much she isn't saying; how hard this must have been. `How old is the baby now?'
`Eighteen months. And it's taken Kath most of that time to crawl back to who she used to be. But she's still not back at work. They had to sign her off on long-term sick leave. Most people have no idea how long PND can last.'
Everett makes a face. `It must have been really tough. Especially on her husband.'
`Stuart? He's a bloody hero. I dread to think how she'd have coped without a partner like him.'
They're both silent now, but they're both thinking the same thing: what kind of partner did Samantha Esmond have?
The door opens again and one of the uniform PCs comes in. She and Somer exchange a nod.
`OK,' says Everett more briskly as the cubicle door closes. `What now?'
`First thing tomorrow I'm going to talk to her GP,' says Somer. `See what they can tell us.'
`It's a bit odd, isn't it, that Samantha's parents never said anything?'
Somer shakes her head. `It was months before Stu told my parents. Sometimes a problem shared just makes things twice as bad `“ especially if people live a long way away and can't do anything practical to help.'
There's a hinterland of pain here that Everett knows better than to trespass on.
At least not now.
I'm in the car when the phone rings. Queuing to get past the ring road. It doesn't matter which way you try to get into this city in the morning rush hour (and believe me, I've tried them all), you always end up waiting in line. I'm not in the best of moods, and in two minds whether to answer the damn phone. Until I see who it is.
`Alex? It's fantastic to hear from you. How are you? How's your sister?'
Too much, Fawley, too much.
There's a pause. This isn't good.
`Alex?'
`Who is she, Adam?'
I'm not sure what freezes my heart more: the question or the tone she asks it in.
`Who's who? Sorry, you've lost me.'
`Oh, don't give me that. You're an awful liar, you always have been.'