'And Catherine made a difference?'
'Sally wasn't on her own so much. I'm not sure how close they were: Be paused again. 'Perhaps Margaret was right and Catherine was only using her. But I didn't see it that way. I thought she was unhappy. She wasn't good at making friends either. And she was a teacher's kid:
'Is there anything else you can tell us about her?'
'I don't think so. She wasn't an easy girl to know.
She was always polite. You could tell she'd been well brought up. But she was never relaxed. She wanted to make an impression. Perhaps her father could tell what she was thinking. I'm not sure anyone else could: Perez thought the girl had fascinated him. Those weren't the sort of things you'd normally say about your daughter's friend. Alex had wanted to understand her. 'Did you ever meet her on your own?'
Alex looked shocked. 'No, of course not. Why would I?'
'What were you doing the evening before Mrs Hunter found her body?'
'It was another late night. A meeting of the natural history society. Their visiting speaker had let them down so I gave a talk! He looked up. 'There were thirty people there. It wasn't a brilliant speech, but they'll remember it!
'What time did you get home?'
'I went for a drink with them after. One drink. So it was probably about ten-thirty when I got in. Perhaps a bit later!
'Was it snowing then?'
'No. There was even a gap in the clouds, a bit of moonlight. The snow came later!
'Did you see anything unusual when you drove down the hill?'
'A body in the field, do you mean? I'm sorry, I've thought about it. I didn't notice anything but that doesn't mean it wasn't there. The road was very icy. I was concentrating on getting down the bank in one piece!
'Was there a light on in Hillhead?'
He thought. 'I'm sorry, I don't remember! He paused. 'There was light in Euan's house. There's that big glass extension. The blinds weren't drawn!
'Did you see anyone inside?'
'No. No one!
'Is that all, Mr Henry? Or is there anything you think we should know?'
Alex paused again, so Perez thought this time the open question might come up with something. Occasionally it worked. But the man just shook his head slowly. 'No,' he said. 'I'm sorry I can't help! Which, Perez thought, didn't quite answer the question.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Fran had acquired a dog. One of the mothers at school had turned up with it the evening before. She'd been tentative. 'We don't want to intrude but we thought she might be a comfort. There's no harm to her, but she makes an awful lot of noise when she's disturbed.
We thought, being on your own, and so close to where the body was. . !
Fran had invited the woman in, offered her wine which she refused and tea which she accepted. Fran had intended this as a polite introduction to refusing the gift. In London she'd always hated dogs. They crapped on the pavements and whined. The woman talked about their respective children, about the school. 'Oh, she's a great teacher, Margaret Henry. She stands no nonsense!
Fran didn't offer her own opinion. Neither did she discuss the murder. But when the woman stood up to go, the dog stayed. Fran had the sudden superstitious feeling that if she rejected the offer she would be setting herself up for something dreadful to happen. An attack on the house, on her and Cassie. She imagined the parents talking about it afterwards in the playground. It was her pride, you see.
We offered her the dog to look after her and she turned it down.
So Fran had a dog called Maggie. A mongrel with a lot of collie in her. Black and white. Cassie was delighted - she had pestered often for a pet - and spent the evening tormenting the animal, who accepted the treatment with such equanimity that Fran thought it unlikely she would be much good as a guard dog.
Now it was Sunday afternoon and Cassie was at a school friend's birthday party. She'd dressed in her favourite dress, all pink frills and glitter, working herself almost into tears when her hair wouldn't stay up as she'd wanted it. What will the others think of me, looking like this? Other people's mothers have straighteners and curling tongs. By implication Fran was a terrible parent.
Fran tried to understand the tantrums. It would be Cassie's first proper sleepover. A rite of passage. She'd been given a lift to the party and Fran had stood at the door waving her off, but Cassie didn't notice. She was already giggling and gossiping with the other girls in the car. Maggie was lying asleep in front of the range.
Fran began work again on a pen and ink drawing she'd started earlier in the week. It was inspired by Raven Head, the patterns on the rock face, the shingle beach below. She'd begun with a clear vision of how she hoped the design would work, but now she found it impossible to concentrate. There was a prickly restlessness which felt like caffeine overload. She'd caught Cassie's frenetic mood. In a moment of frustration she screwed the paper into a ball and threw it on to the fire.
She felt she'd been trapped in this one room for days. If I was in London, she thought, I'd call someone.
We'd meet in a bar for a late lunch, a couple of glasses of wine. There'd be people around, noise, gossip. If I’d found a body there, I'd talk it out of my system. The image wouldn't sit in the back of my mind, contaminating every thought. It wouldn't float in front of my eyes when I was trying to draw.
She pulled on a pair of wellingtons and a coat and opened the door. The dog followed. An astonishing change in temperature had occurred outside overnight. It was as if Ravenswick had become a different place, softer, less hostile. The police were still on the road down by Hillhead, but there weren't so many of them on the hill now.
From this distance the men looked like children's stick drawings, like the drawing Cassie had made in the sand on the beach at the Haa.
She could see Euan's house too. His car still stood outside. She thought on impulse she should visit. If she was feeling stifled, how much more difficult must it be for him? She walked down the hill with the dog yap ping at her ankles. When she knocked at the door, Euan opened it immediately and glared out at her. She took a step back in surprise.
'I'm sorry' he said. 'I thought you were a reporter. The police stop them at the top of the bank, but one or two have got through. It's not the locals. The nationals must have got wind of the case now too!
'I wasn't sure if you'd want a visitor. I'm quite happy to go if you like. . !
'No. I should be looking through Catherine's things. The police have asked to see her video recorder. But I'm not sure I can face it yet. Let's have some tea, shall we?'
.
She left the dog in the garden and followed him.
When he took her into the space-age kitchen, she saw what an effort it was for him to hold it all together.
His hand shook as he held the kettle under the tap.
'I want to know about the other girclass="underline" he said, his back still towards her.