‘Grace.’ Her voice is taut with suppressed frustration. ‘I can’t come with you, not at a moment’s notice.’

‘You owe me.’

‘For what?’ She sounds incredulous, and I admit, I am pushing it.

‘For not telling me you knew Nick.’

‘Oh for Christ’s sake … All right. Fine.’

‘I’ll come and pick you up. I’m sorry, I’d offer to have Kai here with Lottie, but I know you don’t want to see Tim and Cora.’

‘Kai isn’t a problem. My neighbour will have him.’

‘Thanks. You never know, the trip might be good for you too.’

She laughs drily. ‘If you dare say the word closure, I’m not coming.’

GRACE

Thursday, 26 April 2018

I STRETCH AND YAWN, SURPRISED THAT IT’S NOT DARK outside, that my clock reads not two or three or four, as it has been since Nick went missing, but five forty-five. Blearily I feel along the row of buttons on top of my radio and cancel my six o’clock alarm. I can’t believe I slept so solidly, but perhaps it’s because I’m going somewhere and doing something constructive for Nick. I rub my eyes and sit up, throw back the duvet and swing my legs out of bed. I feel refreshed by sleep for the first time since he left.

I chide myself. Nick didn’t leave. Leaving is something you do on purpose. Nick is missing, absent, vanished.

I make sure everything Lottie needs is easy to find; she’s supposed to organize herself, but now is not the time to stand on principles. The last thing I need is a call from the school secretary demanding I bring in her recorder. I haven’t told Lottie that Anna is coming with me in case she mentions it to Cora and Tim, because they’ll want to know who this Anna is and why I would want her company. It’s ridiculous; Anna’s bound to bump into them soon. I can’t walk across the Common without seeing someone I know; it’s that sort of place. But it’s none of my business.

By seven, I’m parked in Camomile Avenue. Anna gives Kai a hug then propels him towards the neighbour’s door. I wait until he goes in, then we drive away.

Anna is texting someone. She sends it and drops her phone into the canvas tote that she’s settled in the space at her feet, then leans back and closes her eyes. She doesn’t want to involve the Moodys, so we’ve arrived unannounced. If the housekeeper isn’t there, Anna knows where she lives in the village.

‘Too early for you?’ I ask, in a friendly way.

She turns her head. ‘Just a little.’

‘I don’t mind if you nod off.’ In fact, I’d like it, at least until I’ve got used to having her there.

‘No, it’s OK.’