‘Where is she? I’ve been trying to get hold of her for weeks.’

‘Err . . . she’s staying with her sister, I believe. I can give her a message, Mrs . . .?’ I pause, waiting for her to tell me who she is.

‘This is her mother. And did you say she’s staying with Polly? That’s impossible, Fran and Polly don’t speak.’

‘Well, after everything that’s happened with Laurel, they seem to have patched things up. Fran said Polly invited her for Christmas to get away from the press, and she’s decided to stay there for a little while. She’s finding it a bit difficult to come back to the house.’

‘What do you mean, what’s happened with Laurel? And what about the press? I’m sorry, miss, but I really have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘You don’t . . .?’ I stutter, not sure whether I heard Fran’s mother correctly. ‘You don’t know what happened with Laurel?’

‘No, I just said that.’ She is sharp, impatient, and she sounds, for a moment, exactly like Fran. ‘I haven’t spoken to Francesca since the beginning of the summer. She called me to say she would be away for the summer, and then I took a cruise along the Nile and have only been back for three weeks. I’ve been calling her constantly since then, and she’s been ignoring my calls.’

Fran was never away – busy, yes, but not away – and now her mother is telling me that she hasn’t spoken to Fran since early summer. I lean back against the wall, a slightly sick feeling rising in my stomach as it flips over.

‘I’m so sorry, we seem to have our wires crossed somewhere. Like I said, Fran isn’t here at the moment, and I think it’s best she explains things to you. I can give you her mobile number.’ I read out Fran’s number from my phone, stumbling over the numbers and having to repeat them several times before Fran’s mother has the correct number. Finally, she hangs up and I slide down the wall, twisting to end up sat on the bottom stair.

Fran’s mother hasn’t spoken to her since the summer. Yet, several times over the first few weeks of Laurel’s disappearance, I would find Fran whispering into her phone, and she would always tell me it was her mother she was speaking to. I think hard, Fran’s voice coming to me as I hovered outside her room, ‘. . . it will be OK. I promise. I can deal with this.’ If she wasn’t talking to her mother, then who was she talking to? Is Pamela right after all – has Fran been lying to everyone all along?

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 26