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  For Bethany and Joseph.

  Dream big and believe in yourselves.

  NOW

  My name is Charlotte Reynolds.” I lean forward to speak into the microphone, though I’m not sure why. It just feels imperative that I at least get my name across clearly. Reaching out for the glass in front of me, I grip it between my fingertips, pushing it slowly in counterclockwise circles, watching the water inside ripple.

  The clock on the otherwise bare white wall flashes 9:16 p.m. in bright red lights. My children should be in bed by now. Tom said he would stay the night and sleep in the spare room. “Don’t worry,” he told me when I called him earlier. “I won’t go anywhere until you’re home.” That isn’t what I’m worrying about, but I didn’t say as much.

  Home feels so far away from this airless, whitewashed room with its three chairs and desk and the microphone balanced on one end of it, and I wonder how long I’ll be here. How long can they keep me before they decide what comes next? Ever since the school fair two weeks ago I’ve dreaded leaving my children. I’d do anything to be tucking them into bed right now so I can breathe in their familiar smells, read them that one more story they always beg for.

  “They’re not holding you, are they?” Tom had asked me on the phone.

  “No, they just want to ask me a few questions.” I brushed off the fact I was in a police station as if it were nothing. I didn’t tell Tom the detective had asked if I’d wanted someone to be with me, that I’d refused and had told her as breezily as I could that I didn’t need anyone as I’d happily tell her what I knew.

  My fingers begin to tingle and I pull them away from the glass to hide them under the table, squeezing them tightly, willing the blood to rush back into them.

  “So, Charlotte,” the detective starts in a slow drawl. She asked me if she can use my first name but hasn’t offered me the privilege in return. I know her name is Susanne because she said as much for the recording, but I expect she knows I won’t call her that. Not when she introduced herself as Detective Rawlings to reinforce who is in control.

  My breath sticks tightly in my throat as I wait for her to ask what I was doing there tonight. In many ways, the truth would be the easy option. I wonder if I told her, if she’d let me leave now so I can go home to my children.

  The detective is interrupted by a knock on the door, and she looks up as a police officer pokes her head into the room. “Captain Hayes is on his way from Dorset,” the officer says. “ETA three hours.”

  Rawlings nods her thanks and the door closes again. Hayes is the Senior Investigating Officer of what has become the Alice Hodder case. He’s been a constant fixture in my life for the last two weeks, and I wonder if they’ll keep me here until he arrives because I assume he will want to speak to me. The thought that I could be cooped up inside this room for another three hours makes the walls close in tighter. I don’t remember ever feeling claustrophobic, but right now the sense of being trapped makes me feel light-headed, and my eyes flicker as they try to adjust again.

  “Are you okay?” Detective Rawlings asks. Her words sound rough. They give the impression it would annoy her if I weren’t. She has dyed blond hair scraped back into a tight bun, which shows the black of her roots. She looks young, no more than thirty, and has plastered too much bright red lipstick onto her very full lips.

  I hold a hand against my mouth and hope the nausea passes. I nod and reach for the glass of water to take a sip. “Yes,” I say. “Thank you, I’ll be okay. I just feel a little sick.”

  Detective Rawlings purses her red lips and sits back in her chair. She’s in no rush.

  “So,” she begins again, and asks her first question, but it isn’t the one I was expecting. “Let’s start by you telling me what happened thirteen days ago. The day of the fair.”

  CHARLOTTE’S STORY

  BEFORE

  CHARLOTTE

  At exactly ten o’clock on Saturday morning the doorbell rang, and I knew it would be Harriet because she was never a minute late. I emerged from the bathroom, still in my pajamas, as the bell sounded a second time. Flicking back the curtains to be sure it was her, I saw Harriet hovering on the doorstep, her arm tightly gripped around her daughter’s shoulders. Her head was hung low as she spoke to Alice. The little girl beside her nodded as she turned and nestled her head into her mother’s waist.

  My own children’s screams erupted from downstairs. The two girls’ voices battled to be heard over one another. Evie was now drowning out Molly with a constant, piercing whine, and as I fled down the stairs, I could just make out Molly crying at her younger sister to shut up.

  “Will you both stop shouting!” I yelled as I reached the bottom. My eldest, Jack, sat oblivious in the playroom, earphones on, zoned into a game on the iPad that I wished Tom had never bought him. How I sometimes envied Jack’s ability to shut himself in his own world. I picked Evie off the floor, wiping a hand across her damp face and rubbing at the marmalade smeared upward from both corners of her mouth. “You look like the Joker.”

  Evie stared back at me. At three she was still suffering from the terrible twos. She had at least thankfully stopped bawling and was now kicking one foot against the other. “Come on, let’s play nicely for Alice’s sake,” I said as I opened the door.

  “Hi, Harriet, how are you doing?” I crouched down in front of Alice and smiled at the little girl who continued to bury her head in her mum’s skirt. “Are you looking forward to the school fair today, Alice?”

  I didn’t expect an answer, but I plowed on regardless. Besides, once Molly took Alice under her wing, she would happily follow my daughter around like a puppy. In turn, my six-year-old would have an air of smug superiority that a younger child was finally looking up to her.

  “Thank you again for today,” Harriet said as I straightened.

  I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “You know it’s a pleasure. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve begged you to let me watch Alice.” I grinned.

  Harriet’s right hand played with the seam of her skirt—balling it up, then pressing it down flat—and for a moment I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I’d expected her to be nervous; I’d even thought she would cancel.

  “But with four of them, are you sure—” she started.

  “Harriet,” I cut her off. “I’m more than happy to take Alice to the fair. Please don’t worry about it.”

  Harriet nodded. “I’ve already put sunscreen on her.”

  “Oh. That’s good.” That meant I now had to find sunscreen for my own. Did I have any?

  “Well, it’s so hot and I don’t want her burning . . .” Her voice trailed away, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  “You are looking forward to your class today, aren’t you?” I asked. “You don’t look like you are, but you should be. It’s exactly what you need.”

  Harriet shrugged and looked at me blankly. “It’s bookkeeping,” she said flatly.

  “I know, but it’s what you want to do. It’s great that you’re planning your future.”

  I meant it, even though I’d originally turned my nose up when she’d said it was bookkeeping. I’d tried to convince Harriet to do a gardening class instead because she would make a lovely gardener. I could picture h
er running around town with her own little van and told her I’d even design a website for her. Harriet had looked as if she was mulling the idea over, but eventually said gardening didn’t pay as much.

  “You could do my garden for me,” I’d said. “I need someone to come and give me some new ideas. I would—” I stopped abruptly because I’d been about to say I’d pay her more than the going rate, but I knew my good intentions weren’t always taken in the right way when it came to money.

  “How about teaching?” I’d said instead. “You know how wonderful you’d be. Just look at the way you were with Jack when I first met you.”

  “I’d have to train to be a teacher and that won’t get me a job this September,” she’d replied, and averted her gaze. I knew her well enough to know when to stop.

  “Then bookkeeping it is,” I’d said, smiling, “and you’ll be great at that, too.” Even if it wasn’t what I’d do, at least Harriet was thinking past September when Alice started school and she could concentrate on something for herself. I had another two long years until Evie started and I could get back some semblance of a career instead of the two days a week I worked now for the twenty-something who’d once reported to me.

  “Oh, I haven’t packed a lunch or anything,” Harriet said suddenly.

  “I’m not bothering with lunches.” I brushed a hand through the air. “We can get something there. The PTA invests more in food stalls than anything else,” I joked.

  “Right.” Harriet nodded but didn’t smile, after a moment adding, “Let me get you some money.”

  “No,” I said firmly, but hopefully not too sharply. “No need.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  “I know it isn’t.” I smiled. “But please, let me do this, Harriet. The girls are excited Alice is joining us and we’re going to have a great day. Please don’t worry about her,” I said again, holding my hand out toward her, but she didn’t take it.

  Harriet bent down and pulled her daughter in for a hug, and I watched the little girl melt into her mother’s chest. I took a step back, feeling like I should give them some space. There was such a tight bond between Harriet and her daughter that felt so much more raw than anything I had with my children, but I also knew what a big deal today was for her. Because despite Alice being four, Harriet had never left her daughter with anyone before today.

  I’d been thrilled when I’d first left Evie overnight with my friend Audrey, when she’d been barely two months old. I’d had to coax Tom into coming to the pub with me, and even though we were home by nine thirty and I had crashed on the sofa half an hour later, it was worth it for a night of undisturbed sleep.

  “I love you,” Harriet whispered into Alice’s hair. “I love you so much. Be a good girl, won’t you? And stay safe.” She lingered in the hug, her arms pressing tighter around her daughter. When she pulled back, she took Alice’s face in her hands and gently pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead.

  I waited awkwardly for Harriet to eventually pull herself up. “Do you want to go play with Molly in her bedroom before we go to the fair?” I asked Alice, then turned to Harriet. “Do you still want me to drop her back at your house at five?”

  Harriet nodded. “Yes, thank you,” she said, making no move to leave.

  “Please stop thanking me.” I smiled. “I’m your best friend, it’s what I’m here for.” Besides, I wanted to watch Alice, and Harriet had been there for me more than enough times over the last two years. “You know you can trust me,” I added.

  But maybe we were a little more on edge than usual since a boy had been taken from the park last October. He was nine—the same age as Jack had been at the time—and it had happened only on the other side of Dorset. Close enough for us to feel the threat, and still no one had any idea why he’d been taken or what had happened to him.

  I reached out and took hold of my friend’s arm. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll take good care of her.” Eventually Harriet stepped off my doorstep and I took Alice’s hand and brought her into the hallway.

  “You’ve got my number if you need me,” Harriet said.

  “I’ll call if there’s a problem. But there won’t be,” I added.

  “Brian’s fishing. He has his phone with him but he rarely answers it.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll get hold of you if need be,” I said. I didn’t have Brian’s number anyway. I wanted Harriet to hurry up and go. I was conscious I was still in my pajamas and could see Ray from the house opposite staring as he mowed his front lawn in painfully slow stripes. “Harriet, you’ll be late,” I said, deciding I needed to be firm with her now or I’d find her dithering on my doorstep for the rest of the day.

  • • •

  WHEN HARRIET EVENTUALLY left, I closed the door and took a deep breath. There was a time when I would have called out to Tom that Ray was watching me and we would laugh about it. It was at the oddest times it struck me that I had no one to share those moments with since we’d separated.

  “Ray caught me wearing my pajamas,” I said, grinning at Jack as he emerged from the playroom.

  My son stared at me. “Can you get me a juice?”

  I sighed. “No, Jack. You’re ten. You can get your own juice, and can you say hello to Alice, please?”

  Jack looked at Alice as if he had never seen her before. “Hello, Alice,” he said before disappearing into the kitchen.

  “Well, that’s as good as it gets, I’m afraid.” I smiled at Alice, who had already taken Molly’s hand and was being led up the stairs. “Everyone, I’m going to have a shower and then we’ll get ready for the fair,” I called out, but my words were met with silence.

  When I reached the bedroom, my cell was ringing and Tom’s number flashed up on the screen. “We agreed seven p.m.,” I said as I answered.

  “What?” he called out over the noise of traffic.

  I sighed and muttered under my breath for him to put the damn car roof up. “I said seven p.m.” I spoke louder. “I assume you’d forgotten what time you were coming to sit with the kids tonight?” Even though I’d only told him yesterday.

  “Actually, I just wanted to check if you definitely still need me?”

  I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. “Yes, Tom, I’m still planning to go out.” I didn’t ask him often. I didn’t go out enough to have to. In the two years since we’d separated I had gradually realized I didn’t need to show him I was still having fun, and most of the time I wasn’t anyway. Now I was comfortable enough in my single life to only go out when I wanted to. Though if I were being honest, I didn’t really fancy drinks with the neighbors tonight, but I wasn’t going to give Tom the satisfaction of letting me down at the last minute.

  “It’s just something’s come up with work. I don’t have to go, but it would look better if I did.”

  I rubbed a hand over my eyes and silently screamed. I knew what my night would be like: awkward conversation over too much wine with neighbors who I had little in common with. Yet I should go. Not only had I promised them, but I’d let them down the last time they’d had a party and probably the time before that.

  “You told me you were free,” I said flatly.

  “I know, and I’ll still come over if you really need me. It’s just that—”

  “Oh, Tom,” I sighed.

  “I’m not backing out if you still want me. I was just checking you definitely want to go, that’s all. You never usually want to.”

  “Yes, I want to go,” I snapped, hating that he still knew me so well. I wouldn’t get this hassle if I used a babysitter, but I knew the kids loved having him over.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll be there,” he said. “Seven o’clock.”

  “Thank you. And come on your own,” I said before I could help myself. I knew he would never bring his new girlfriend. He hadn’t even introduced her to the children yet.

  “Charlotte,” he said. “You know you don’t have to say that.”

  “I’m just making sure,” I said sharply,
before putting the phone down and feeling irritatingly guilty because, despite the way he still annoyed me, I couldn’t fault Tom’s parenting. And we muddled through surprisingly well.

  As I turned on the shower, I tried not to think about why I was rattled by his latest relationship news. It wasn’t as if I wanted him back. Fifteen years of marriage hadn’t ended on a whim, we had gradually grown too far apart. Maybe I just didn’t like change, I thought, stepping into the shower. Maybe I had gotten too comfortable with the easy flow of my life.

  • • •

  THE TEN-MINUTE DRIVE to the school took us through our village of Chiddenford toward the outskirts where the small village park and quaint little shops made way for expansive areas of countryside. St. Mary’s school grounds rivaled that of some private schools. Opposite the school sat its impressive field, which backed onto parkland.

  It was here that I first met Harriet five years ago when she was working as a teaching assistant. I’d always thought she’d end up sending Alice to the school, but the drive from their house was a nightmare. It was a shame because it would have helped Alice’s confidence having Molly two years above.

  It must have been well past noon by the time we finally arrived for the fair, joining the long snake of cars as they approached the corner of the field that had been cordoned off as a makeshift parking lot.

  Underneath the brightly colored bunting across the entrance was Gail Turner waving cars through as if she ran the school rather than just the PTA.

  When Gail saw me she gestured to wind down my window, her white teeth flashing brightly in the sun. “Hello, lovely. How lucky are we with the weather?” she called through my open window. “I feel like I’ve been personally blessed.”

  “Very lucky, Gail,” I said. “Can I park anywhere?” Four-by-fours ahead of me were already squeezing into tight spaces they’d unlikely get out of easily. “Why’s it so busy?”

  “My marketing, probably.” She beamed. “I tried to speak to as many parents as possible to make sure they were coming.”