“We’d like to talk to you all separately. It would be easier to do this at the station, if you would follow us there?”

I risk a final glance at Becca. She’s slumped now, as if in defeat. As if she knows that lying about her tablets is yet another decision we can’t take back.

48.

PAUL

Paul told the ward staff his pain was down to “a two or a three.” Forced himself to sit and stand, eat and drink. All so they wouldn’t protest when he said he wanted to “get some air.”

In reality, his ribs screamed when he walked too fast, and his jaw clicked as if it would never be quite right again. Approaching the Blue Car Park, he clutched his side and glanced in every direction. He thought he’d recognized the writing on the note that had been left for him, but he couldn’t be sure.

Then he saw her, standing close to the overgrown bushes on the far side, wearing a tan leather jacket rather than the scarlet coat from last time.

How had she found him? Why was she here? Up close, Paul struggled to guess what was on her mind and realized he’d never tried to before—never had to. Yvette had done so much for him, knew so much about him, and he couldn’t say the same in return.

His life felt full of one-way relationships. He was never allowed or able to give enough of himself. Even to his daughter, his wife.

Yvette hugged him gently, shaking her head as she took in his injuries. “I should never have given you his address. I should’ve known it would end badly.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Paul insisted. “I was determined to find him. It would’ve driven me crazy if I hadn’t.”

“What happened?” she asked, at the same time as he said, “How did you know I was here?”

“Glover called me in a rage,” she said, “swearing down the phone at me, asking if I’d told you where to find Sanderson, if I knew how much shit I’d caused. Typical Glover—the soul of discretion until he truly loses his temper.”

Paul nodded. He’d always had the impression Yvette shared his dislike of Glover, but as his therapist she’d been too professional to say so. Now all pretense was dropped.

“Anyway, I knew something must’ve happened,” she went on. “I kept looking at Nottingham news online, but there was nothing. Eventually I decided to take the risk and drive to Sanderson’s address. One of his neighbors was outside, all pumped up because there’d been an ambulance on the street. That got me even more worried, of course. I managed to track you down, but I didn’t want to come right to you, in case Glover was hanging around.”

“But how did Glover know anything had happened?”