‘The police have your handbag, it was still in Paul’s car,’ he said, thrusting his phone into his pocket. ‘Nina, David says there are reporters camped out in front of the police station, so we shouldn’t go there. Thank God they don’t know you’re here.’
‘Hell,’ said Nina. ‘I suppose should be glad they’re publicising it but being hassled by the press is the last thing I need. I’ll phone The Elms again.’
She called the warden, and was told that Emily was up again sorting photos and they were welcome to join her. Nina smiled sadly. What a treasure Emily was, and what a great pity it was that they hadn’t known each other all this time. A desolate by-product of Claire’s lie.
Emily’s cheeks were pink and there were two rows of snaps on the coffee table in front of her. To Nina’s surprise most of them were from the ‘no-people’ selection; only a few had recognisable figures in them, and none were anyone she knew. Unless Paul was one of those indistinct children…
‘You’ve found something,’ she said, sitting beside Emily on the sofa without taking her jacket off.
‘I rather think I have,’ said Emily, gripping her magnifying glass and staring at one of the photos. ‘I haven’t thought about it for years. Your father and George Wright used to go fishing. It was always a ‘man-thing’, the women-folk stayed at home but sometimes the men took Paul. They went to an old farmhouse belonging to a friend of George’s – there was a stream with bass nearby. There are quite a few photos of the house, and some more with different youngsters and fishermen outside – look. You can see that’s the same building in the background here… and here. George was a keen photographer and the scenery was lovely, but there are… a lot of photos of the place. I’m not sure what to think.’
Nina bent over the coffee table. A couple of images were from the black and white selection, but the rest were colour. Five showed rural scenes, both with and without an old stone farmhouse in the background, and another handful showed various figures sitting around the garden in front of the house. Young Paul was there, and another boy. Had George taken these? Maybe the farmhouse was – what a truly horrible thought – a place where her father and Paul’s had taken children to be abused. Nina began to feel sick.
‘Emily, where is this farmhouse?’ she said, taking her great-aunt’s hand. And how difficult it was not to scream out loud, for this was certainly another place David Mallony would need to check out.
Emily rubbed her eyes, a distraught expression on her face. ‘That’s the stupid thing, I’m not very sure. I was only there once; we had a family picnic one Sunday. It was a long time ago, you were barely toddling around. It’s not far from Bedford, I know, less than half an hour in the car.’
‘I’ll call David. I’m sure they’ll have ways of identifying the landscape,’ said Sam, pulling out his mobile.
Nina listened to his side of the conversation, staring at the photos spread out on the table. How innocent it all looked, English countryside and people from decades ago. But the innocence might have been flawed.
Sam finished his call and gathered the photos together. ‘I’ve to scan them through from the office here,’ he said, leaving Nina and Emily looking at each other.
‘Scan?’ said Emily, and Nina thought how the world had changed since Emily was her age.
‘The computer system here can make copies and send them to the police computer,’ she explained.
Sam returned, having forwarded the images, and Nina hugged her great-aunt.
‘I’ll phone this evening and let you know the latest,’ she said. ‘Emily, thank you so much. I’ll probably see you tomorrow.’
For where else would she go if Naomi was still missing – and if Naomi was found, then Emily would be their first port of call, always provided that Nina didn’t have to keep vigil at her daughter’s hospital bedside.
It was two hours later when the phone call came. Nina spent the time on Sam’s sofa staring into the glass of juice he brought her, knowing how fragile her composure was. The thought of losing control was terrifying, and Naomi might need her soon. Please God Naomi would need her, please God Naomi was alive.
Sam grabbed his phone and held it between them, and Nina could see how his hands were shaking too.
‘We’ve found the farmhouse. It’s near Millburn, to the north of Bedford,’ said David Mallony.
Nina’s heart began to race, thudding behind her ribs. She pressed both hands against her chest.
David continued. ‘It’s called Cummings Farm. The land was sold off years ago, and an elderly couple called Wilson have lived in the house for years. It’s fairly outlying, a long way to the nearest neighbours. Anyway, the people at the bottom of the lane noticed a pale green car going up and down to the farm yesterday, but it’s not there now. The Wilsons aren’t answering their phone, so we’re going in to check.’
‘I want to come too,’ said Nina immediately. This was important, the best lead they’d had, was she wrong to feel convinced this was where Naomi was? Or had been…
‘Nina, there are literally thousands of pale green cars in the area. At the moment this is no more weighty than any of the other leads from Wright’s computer,’ said David. ‘You can’t rush around checking everything yourself, you’d be exhausted in no time.’
‘I want to come,’ said Nina. ‘Please.’ She heard David Mallony sigh.
‘Okay. We’ll pick you up in five minutes. But you must do exactly as you’re told.’
She could hear he was already in the car.
‘I will. Can Sam come too?’
‘The more the merrier,’ said David Mallony dryly, and Nina clicked off her mobile.
The car, an unmarked police vehicle, picked them up and Nina squeezed her hands between her knees as they sped north along the A6. David was right, she’d make herself ill if she went on like this. But surely this must be it – a remote farmhouse known to Paul, an elderly couple not answering their phone – and the pale green car noticed by people in the same lane. Maybe she was driving towards Naomi at last, and there was still no way of knowing what her child had suffered all this time. Nausea, never far away now, welled up again and she leaned back, taking shallow breaths through her mouth.
Millburn was a village, larger than Biddenham, and a mile off the A6. The driver stopped in front of a red sandstone church on the High Street, and Nina saw that two more police cars and a paramedic on a motorbike were waiting. So maybe the police were taking this more seriously than the other leads from Paul’s computer; they didn’t take paramedics to every single check, did they? The churning in her gut increased. David Mallony went to consult his colleagues, telling Nina and Sam to stay put.
Nina sat watching the policemen gesticulate as they conferred. Anger was beginning to replace the nausea. ‘Shit, Sam, how dare Paul do this?’
‘I know. Just – hope as hard as you can,’ he said.
Nina rubbed her face. It wasn’t hope she was feeling now, it was dread, but he was right. She should hope. She tried to concentrate on being positive.
David Mallony returned and bent to the back seat window.
‘The farmhouse is further along the lane beyond the church. There’s a belt of trees between it and the village, so we can’t see anything from here. We don’t want to warn Wright if he’s there, so Kev and Phil are going to scout through the trees and see what’s going on. Then if necessary the rest of us can drive on up to the house.’
He got back into the car and sat with them, and Nina appreciated the gesture although she knew that nothing today could be of any comfort. The other officers stood around outside.
After about ten minutes David Mallony’s radio crackled, and he spoke with presumably either Kev or Phil, but the voice was so distorted that Nina couldn’t understand more than the odd word. David’s contributions were merely short affirmatives. He lowered the radio and turned to Nina and Sam.