The phone feels slippery in Beth’s fingers. She fumbles for it, but it drops, hitting the table with a bang. Four teenagers dressed as elves turn to look at her. Mark is in hospital? What’s wrong with him? And why hasn’t Simon acknowledged any of DC Stone’s calls? Suddenly she doesn’t want him to know that she’s listened to the voicemails. Simon has never kept secrets from her, or demanded any sort of privacy, but she still feels like she’s stepped over a line, broken his trust. She picks up his phone between her finger and thumb and drops it back into the rucksack.

Beth pushes her hands through her hair. It feels greasy and she realises the skin on her fingers is now mired by it. She needs to wash them but there’s no sink in the marquee. She pulls a wet wipe from the packet in her bag and wipes furiously at her fingers. But now they feel worse. Sticky. She needs running water, piping hot. She takes a long breath. Suddenly she wonders if DC Stone could have called her too; her phone is in her pocket, but her coat is thick and it’s on silent. She pulls it out, but there are no missed calls. Just a WhatsApp message from Saskia. She remembers DC Stone’s warning and clicks it open.

Your stalker in hospital. Unconscious.

Not drugs. Did you know?

PS Hope PP Santa grotto fun xx

God, why does that woman have to know everything first? And how does she even know where Beth is? She blows out some air and focuses on the content of Saskia’s message. Mark isn’t just in hospital; he’s unconscious. The man who has followed her, threatened her, stripped away her daughter’s precious belief that the world is good. For a moment Beth allows herself to wish he would die. Be gone from her life. But then she shakes her head and tries to process what it means. Why is DC Stone so keen to talk to Simon? Even if Mark’s injury is violence-related, surely the detective is more likely to suspect another rough sleeper, or gangs, rather than a respectable banker with no history of violence?

She can see the girls now, standing at the grotto’s exit, each with an identical present in their hand, staring at a tree trunk wound tight with fairy lights and wiring. A camera flashes. They’ll be by her side again soon; she needs to get her head straight, reapply her happy face. She visibly jumps as another message buzzes through on her phone. It’s Saskia again. Her eyes widen, her breathing stops. What the fuck? Colour drains from her face.

‘Mummy? Are you okay?’

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Saskia