“The police.”

“Paul’s in custody. They’re not looking for anyone else.”

“The police are bound to come sooner or later,” he replies. “They’ll want to talk to Sorrel. There was none of his DNA on her.”

“Of course there wasn’t. Paul’s cleverer than that. Grace told me he was still wearing gloves when he arrived at the house the evening he took her. I thought you knew.”

A day later Sorrel is moved from intensive care to the pediatric ward. Disney animals scamper over the yellow walls, the atmosphere is cheery, there are fewer machines. She is able to sit up and sip fluids. She has just taken a few mouthfuls of orange juice from a glass when the policewoman enters the ward, a pretty woman with a tilted nose and thick fair hair drawn off her face. She sits down and smiles at Sorrel. Eve takes the glass away gently.

“Hello there, Sorrel, my name’s Donna. We’ve met before.”

Eve glances at her, puzzled.

“You were in hospital when I talked to Sorrel the last time,” Donna says softly.

The day Ash drowned; Eve takes Sorrel’s hand. Sorrel stares at the policewoman without the slightest hint of recognition.

“Do you know why you are here?”

Sorrel’s forehead wrinkles; it’s as if Donna were talking in a different language, one she has never learned.

“We want to find out what happened to you before you were brought to hospital; is that all right with you?”

No answer.

“Do you remember going to Izzy’s house recently?”

The blue eyes close.

“I was wondering how you got there.”

Sorrel turns her head away.

“Who were you with, perhaps you can just tell us that?”

Eve wants to tell Donna to leave. There’s no point in these questions right now. She must see that her daughter doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to remember anything at all.

“Well now, Sorrel.” A light sigh. “Have you any questions for us?”

The eyelids flicker open. Sorrel’s eyes meet Eve’s.

“Where’s Ash?” she whispers.

Grace

“Can we see her?”

“That’s the tenth time you’ve asked me.” Grace is squashed between Charley and Blake on the sofa. The television is on; they are watching the news. There are three pairs of bare feet on the table. They had sausages and beans for supper, the children’s favorite. Grace is making an effort to be relaxed. It’s easier than she thought it would be, up to a point.

“Please?” Charley takes another bite of her apple and turns beseeching eyes to her mother.

“Family only, I told you already.”

“She’s getting better; they’ve just said so.” Charley gestures to the screen with the apple. “And the police are allowed, so why not us?”

Grace shakes her head. “The doctors say she needs lots of rest.” She’s explained all this before.

“When, then?”

“She’ll be allowed home soon enough.”

“In time for Christmas?”

“Maybe.” Grace puts an arm around her daughter and pulls her in, kissing the crown of her head. It could have been Charley trapped in that freezer. Paul came so close to them all; thank God he’s been apprehended now. “The main thing is she was found and she’s recovering,” she continues cheerfully. “Let’s focus on that.”