Текст книги "Jessica Daniel: Think of the Children / Playing with Fire / Thicker Than Water"

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

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Текущая страница: 44 (всего у книги 56 страниц)

11

‘Cheer up, Dave, we’re going to one of your favourite hangouts.’

Jessica was determined to get her colleague to offer something other than a sullen grunt of acknowledgement. She glanced sideways from the driver’s seat to Rowlands, who simply stared ahead. ‘Kid there,’ he said, nodding to the side of the road.

‘I can see him,’ Jessica protested, even though she hadn’t. Her reputation around the station as a bad driver had begun to die down over the past year or so but some people, chiefly Dave, perpetuated it.

‘Cyclist too,’ he added.

Jessica swerved exaggeratedly around the man on a bicycle. ‘Are you going to do this the whole journey?’

‘What?’

‘Point out potential hazards on the road.’

The constable laughed. ‘Maybe.’

‘At least you’re laughing.’

Dave didn’t reply, so Jessica thought she would push it while they were alone. ‘Come on, you can tell me what’s up. I know it isn’t just breaking up with Chloe – that was ages ago.’

‘It’s nothing,’ he snapped.

‘We’re supposed to be mates. I know you’ve told Izzy what’s going on.’

‘I haven’t actually because there’s nothing to tell.’

Jessica sighed noisily. ‘Why are all the men in my life acting mental at the moment?’

Rowlands shuffled in his seat. ‘Problems in paradise?’

Jessica couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic, so she took the question seriously. ‘Not really. Adam’s just being . . . man-like. You know, all “nothing’s wrong” and so on.’

‘That’s what you’re like.’

Jessica stayed quiet, watching the road, knowing the constable was right. She thought of all the times he, Izzy, Caroline, Adam and everyone else had asked her if she was ‘all right’, only to be met with her grumpy-sounding ‘I’m fine’, even when she wasn’t. She was more worried by the fact she had recognised that than anything else.

‘Either way, in all seriousness, have you been to this strip club?’ Jessica asked.

The constable sounded indignant. ‘Why would I have?’

‘I don’t know, before Chloe you were always going on about raucous nights out. I figured this would be the type of place you might be familiar with.’

‘Well, it’s not.’

‘All right. You’re not under caution. I believe you.’

Nicholas Long’s club was along a side street not far from Albert Square. The front was completely blacked out, with silver writing declaring it ‘Manchester’s Premier Gentlemen’s Establishment’.

Because they were only looking to talk to Nicholas in an unofficial way, they had contacted him and asked to arrange a meeting. They told him it was to discuss some of his former employees and hadn’t offered any further information. Given the choice of him coming to the station, or them visiting his house, he had reminded them he was ‘a very busy man’ and invited them to his club instead. Jessica didn’t know if he had done that to put them off but had accepted anyway, not even balking at the fact he wanted to talk in the evening. Cole had told her twice in their briefing to be careful, so she figured meeting on his terms was a good way to start.

From the times on the front window, Jessica knew the club had been open for less than five minutes. Before entering, she rested against the glass, leaning in closely to talk to Rowlands. ‘When we’re inside, just go with it.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘You’ll see.’

Before Rowlands had a chance to reply, Jessica pushed open the door, entering a darkened hallway. She led the way towards the light, where there was a man standing behind a counter sucking his little finger. He stopped as he noticed them approaching and stood taller, eyeing them up and down from a distance. He was tall but not particularly imposing and, on first impression, looked too young to be working in such a place. He had short brown hair that was gelled and spiked and it was only when Jessica got closer that she saw the beginnings of crinkles around his eyes that indicated an age somewhere in the early twenties, as opposed to the teens.

‘All right, Scott?’ Jessica said, noticing the man’s name tag. At first he seemed taken aback, partly by having his name mentioned but also, Jessica assumed, because they didn’t get too many female visitors.

He seemed almost annoyed when he realised how she had found out his name. ‘Are you members?’ he asked tersely, picking up a tissue from the counter and throwing it into a bin in the corner.

‘We’re here to see Nicholas,’ Jessica said. ‘You might want to work on your welcoming strategy, by the way. Sucking your fingers and keeping snotty tissues on the counter surely can’t be good for business.’

Scott scowled as he picked up a phone from the desk and spoke too quietly for them to hear. ‘You can wait there,’ he said, putting the receiver down and pointing towards a sofa on the opposite side of the cramped entranceway.

The room could have only fitted two dozen people in if they were packed tightly. There was the door they had come through, then a second one which presumably led to the main part of the club. Next to that was a closed hatch with ‘Cloak Room’ written over the top. The decor was almost entirely red, with matching carpets and wallpaper and a beech-coloured wooden border running around the walls. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, with fake candles on each of the prongs, and Jessica could almost taste the air-freshener which had seemingly been emptied into the room at some point in the past few hours.

‘Familiar setting this, Dave?’ Jessica whispered.

‘I told you, I’ve not been here before.’

‘Maybe not to this one . . .’

Before she could wind her friend up any further, a brute of a man stomped through the door opposite the one they had entered by. His head was shaven and his dark shirt was bulging from the muscles underneath. Jessica stood but still felt half the man’s size as he stretched out sausage-like fingers to shake her hand. ‘I’m Liam,’ he said before Jessica could check his name tag. ‘I’m the bar manager here. Nicholas is a little busy at this exact moment but I’ve been told I can offer you any drink you might like on the house while you wait.’

His tone was cheerful and didn’t sound forced. Although it wasn’t high-pitched as such, Jessica would have expected something much more booming from such a hulk of a man. He didn’t even squeeze her hand tightly as they shook.

‘I’m all right, thanks,’ Jessica replied.

Liam glanced towards Rowlands, who offered a sheepish, ‘I’m fine too.’

‘We did have an appointment time,’ Jessica said sternly, wanting to remind the man that they weren’t simply people who had wandered in off the street.

Liam scratched his ear and Jessica realised he was wearing an earpiece. A small radio microphone was clipped to the lapel of his suit. She looked into the top corner of the room and saw a green light blinking underneath a CCTV camera that was pointing straight at them. The man said ‘no worries’ loudly, then turned and waved them towards the door.

The inside of the club was decorated in much the same way as the lobby: red carpets as far as she could see, and the same paint and wood effect around the walls. Liam led them past a row of empty bar stools but Jessica couldn’t help but feel her eyes wander towards the half-dozen women sitting in the back corner. None of them was wearing very much but they spun almost in unison to stare at her. Jessica made sure not to turn away but her attention was taken as she heard a clatter behind her, where Rowlands was picking up a stool he had walked into. Jessica would have offered a ‘look where you’re going’-stare, if it wasn’t for the fact Liam had stopped in front of a door just to the side of the bar.

He used his body to shield a keypad from Jessica’s view and typed in a code before turning the handle and holding it open.

She took the hint, squeezing past him into a large corridor with Rowlands just behind. ‘First one in front of you,’ Liam called after them.

There were four doors, with a fire exit sign illuminated at the far end. In contrast to the rest of the building, the corridor was painted in pure white and felt cold. With Liam watching them, Jessica opened the first door without knocking.

Nicholas Long looked pretty much the same as he had in the photos Jessica had seen, although his skin was redder and his hair thinner. His cheeks sagged slightly over his jawbone as he put down a heavy-looking glass of whisky and stood up from a high-backed leather chair, walking towards her offering his hand. His grey suit looked expensive but it also clung to his portly frame, making him look enormous.

‘Ms Daniel,’ he said, ‘I didn’t realise from your voice you would be quite so . . . appealing.’ His eyes flickered up and down her figure, the words slithering from his lips. Whether he was coming on to her, or trying to creep her out, she wasn’t sure. He was like the lecherous bore at the end of a Wetherspoon’s bar, regaling anyone within hearing distance with stories about how great he was while tucking into a pint of bitter at ten in the morning.

Jessica glared into the man’s eyes and shook his hand. ‘I didn’t realise you’d be quite so . . . old,’ she shot back.

Nicholas paused for a moment and then laughed loudly, though his reply didn’t sound genuine. ‘Feisty too. I like that.’

The man’s office was lined on one side entirely by filing cabinets, with two computers on the desk. Jessica noticed a rank of monitors, including one showing a black and white image from the entrance area they had been waiting in. He saw her glance towards the screen and laughed a second time. ‘I’ve got to keep an eye on my empire,’ he said, returning to his desk and sitting, while picking the glass up in one fluid movement and downing the contents.

‘You’re not driving home, are you?’ Jessica asked, sitting in the seat opposite him, trying to make eye contact. She could feel Rowlands hovering nervously behind her.

‘I thought this was a friendly visit?’ Nicholas replied, reaching into a drawer under the desk and picking out a decanter.

‘This is me being friendly,’ Jessica replied.

The man poured himself a drink and then nodded towards her. ‘Want one?’

Jessica didn’t take her eyes from the man. ‘Whisky’s for old men.’

Nicholas’s top lip began to curl but he stopped himself and nodded at Rowlands. ‘You?’

‘No thanks.’

There was a sofa at the back of the office behind the door and Jessica turned to see her colleague sitting down.

‘Suit yourself,’ Nicholas replied, putting the bottle back into the drawer. ‘So, how can I help you?’ His tone was exaggerated and far too sweet compared to the steely look in his eyes.

‘Eleanor James and Kayleigh Pritchard,’ Jessica said, watching for a reaction that didn’t come.

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders dismissively and checked his watch. ‘Who?’

‘They’re two women who used to work for you.’

He stuck out his bottom lip and shook his head, making the flabby skin of his cheeks wobble. ‘I’ve never heard of them. When did they work for me?’

‘In your casino around twenty years ago.’

Nicholas put the glass down and stared at Jessica before bursting into a forced laugh. ‘Do you know how many businesses I’ve run in that time? How many people I’ve employed?’

‘It must take a lot of experience to run a strip club,’ Jessica said.

The man glared at her. ‘I prefer the term “social club”.’

‘It is a strip club though.’

‘I’m surprised a young woman such as yourself is so against the empowerment of women to legitimately earn large amounts of money.’

Jessica didn’t want to get into that particular argument. ‘So you don’t recognise the two names?’

‘No.’

‘How about faces?’ Rowlands leant forward and passed Jessica two enlarged photos, which she held up for the man to see.

Nicholas smiled provocatively. ‘The one on the left is pretty.’

‘I thought you liked your women in their twenties? It is Tia, isn’t it?’ Jessica replied, wiping the grin from his face.

‘What’s my wife got to do with this?’

For the first time, Nicholas’s tone was outright menacing, each syllable echoing around the room with a hiss. He was staring at her, trying to figure out what she was up to but Jessica knew what she was doing – or at least she thought she did. She could hear Cole’s warnings ringing around her ears as she slid the two photographs across the desk.

‘Do you recognise either of them?’

Nicholas didn’t look at the pictures, instead picking up a cigar from the table and putting it into his mouth. He chewed on the end, peering at Jessica and smiling with his eyes. ‘Nope.’

‘You do realise it’s illegal to light that in here,’ Jessica said, picking up the photographs and nodding towards a half-full ashtray.

‘I own this place.’

‘It’s also a workplace, meaning no smoking.’

Nicholas’s eyes narrowed, his brow twitching angrily, before he composed himself and broke into a smile. He opened his top drawer and dropped the cigar into it. ‘It’s heartening to know we have such defenders of the law working for the state.’

Jessica held up the photographs for a second time. ‘Look again.’

She saw his eyes dart from one photo to the other but if he recognised either of them, he didn’t let on, shaking his head once again. ‘If you leave me the names, I’ll look into my records and see if I can find anything out for you. It’s twenty-odd years ago; I don’t know what you expect, I shut that casino down years ago.’

Jessica nodded, figuring it was as good an offer as she was going to get. She handed the photographs to Rowlands and then put on as sweet a voice as she could manage. ‘You could let some of our people go through your records if it makes life easier . . . ?’

Nicholas’s smile was fixed but Jessica could see a vein throbbing on his forehead. His skin had reddened further and he was nodding slightly. He barely moved his lips as he replied. ‘No, thank you. I’ll be in contact if I find anything.’

Jessica thought about standing to leave but couldn’t resist. ‘That’s probably sensible. Who knows what they’d find . . . ?’

She knew instantly she had him. Nicholas glanced sideways at the bank of monitors, then the area around his Adam’s apple began bobbing up and down. She couldn’t see it clearly because of the overhanging flap of skin but he could evidently no longer contain his fury.

He thumped his hands onto the table. ‘Who do you think you are?’ His eyes were narrow with rage, his hands shaking. Jessica said nothing. ‘Who do you fucking well think you are?’

Jessica reached into her pocket and took out a business card, sliding it across and speaking sweetly. ‘Detective Sergeant Jessica Daniel. It’s nice to meet you.’

Nicholas glared at her. ‘Do you know what I’ve done for my community?’ He waved his hands dramatically towards the wall, where there were framed photos and newspaper articles, including the one she had already seen outside the boxing club.

Jessica stood and walked across to them, taking a cursory glance. ‘Very impressive. We’ve all been talking about how clever you are, haven’t we, Dave?’

Rowlands followed her lead, although she would have preferred it if his voice hadn’t faltered as he muttered a slightly unconvincing: ‘Yeah, really clever.’

Nicholas stabbed a pudgy finger at the monitors. ‘Do you know what I’ve done for these lads? Both Scott on reception and my bar manager, Liam, were unemployed kids. I gave them something from nothing. They came in on work experience and look at them now.’

‘Bravo.’

‘I don’t know why you lot are always on to me. Don’t think I haven’t seen you sniffing around my businesses. I can smell you a mile off.’

Jessica walked across to where Rowlands was sitting and took a final pair of photographs from him. She held up the first one, making sure Nicholas was looking at it before speaking. ‘This is Oliver Gordon. Do you know him?’

Nicholas seemed slightly stunned by her change of tack. She saw at least some of the anger drain from his face. ‘No.’

Jessica flipped the photos around until she was showing him the one of Oliver’s dead body. ‘How about this one?’

Nicholas didn’t flinch but he didn’t sound angry either. ‘No.’

Jessica put the photos down and then reached across, picking up the card she had left as well as Nicholas’s pen. She flipped it over and wrote ‘Eleanor/Ellie James’ and ‘Kayleigh Pritchard’ in clear capital letters, then offered him the card and pen. He took both but put the pen down, studying the names and downing the rest of his drink. She was convinced she saw some sort of recognition in his eyes. He didn’t seem the type to forget names or faces of the women he employed.

‘Give me a call when you find out more about them,’ Jessica said.

She started walking towards the door but Nicholas clearly wanted the final word. ‘Ms Daniel,’ he said, his voice now under control again.

Jessica glanced over her shoulder with one hand on the doorknob. ‘What?’

‘If you want to return to see me, you best make sure you either have a warrant or an appointment.’

Jessica gave him her broadest smile. ‘You were lucky this time,’ she replied. ‘I’m not usually an appointment type of girl.’

With that, she left the room, clattering through the door that led into the club. Two men were sitting on stools at the bar and turned to watch as she stomped through the main area. She ignored Liam, offered a ‘see you soon’ to Scott, who was still sucking his finger, and then banged the front door on her way out into the cool evening air.

She was walking so quickly that it wasn’t until she reached the main square that Rowlands caught her up. ‘That went well,’ he said.

Jessica couldn’t help but laugh, although she didn’t think Cole would agree.

12

Although she had not expected Nicholas Long to complain, Jessica spent the rest of the week waiting to be called into Cole’s office for a telling off. When it never came, she realised she had judged the man perfectly. Some rich, well-connected local criminals would instantly get their lawyers on the case the moment the police did anything that wasn’t quite by the book. Jessica knew Nicholas was nothing like that. For one, she suspected he resented paying a lawyer a penny of anything, let alone for something he would deem unnecessary. Secondly, he seemed the type who revelled in fighting his own battles. He wouldn’t want someone in a smart suit throwing around accusations on his behalf, he would rather be at the centre of everything himself.

Jessica had no reason to believe he was involved in anything to do with Oliver’s death but they didn’t have an awful lot else to go on either. Both Eleanor and Kayleigh insisted there was nothing sinister to them leaving their casino jobs and Nicholas had not come back to them with any further information. She realised the dangers of winding him up, not only because the Serious Crime Division were looking into him but also there was a strong likelihood he was a very dangerous man. None of that would be obvious, of course, but the force wouldn’t be putting that amount of time and expense into someone they thought might have been growing cannabis in a back bedroom. The suspicions of weapon trading in particular seemed strong, although nothing had been proven. She had the feeling people above her would settle for anything, even something tax-related, if it meant getting him off the streets.

With that in mind, she had made the decision to put herself in the thick of things. She hadn’t needed to wind him up but had at least seen the real Nicholas Long up close. It wasn’t a pleasant experience.

Jessica wanted to keep Izzy away from any direct contact and had asked her to concentrate on finding anything further that linked Nicholas to any of the Sextons, Gordons, or Kayleigh. She felt sure there must be something under the surface.

In the meantime, all of the test results were back from the scene of Oliver’s disappearance at the Sextons’ house and the break-in at Kayleigh’s. They hadn’t found anything in the way of fingerprints or DNA from either site that was useable. The only useful lead they had helped generate was the discovery of footprints in the back garden at Kayleigh’s. Unfortunately, that had only led them back to a delivery driver who had left a parcel at the rear of the house a few days prior to Oliver’s body being discovered. Kayleigh told them it was something that happened regularly on her estate.

In all, Jessica was not having the best of times at work and Adam was certainly acting strangely at home. It wasn’t a massive deal but, in the past, he would regularly leave his mobile phone on the arm of the sofa when he did things like go to the toilet. Now he carried it with him everywhere. Jessica didn’t need to use any of her skills to know something was going on but, at the same time, didn’t want to accuse him of anything. In some ways it was worse because he acted perfectly fine with her and joked around in the same way he always did. He even arranged for them to have a house viewing and, as much as Jessica had been willing for something to come up at work to get her out of it, the active cases they were working on stayed frustratingly immobile.

For Jessica, buying a house – especially with another person – was perhaps the final aspect of admitting she was definitely old. Well, that and having kids, which was something that was certainly not on her agenda. She had always rented up until a few months ago when she moved into Adam’s. Even though that never felt like her house, it did at least allow her to convince herself Adam was the grown-up, not her.

The estate agent was clearly annoyed to be working on a Sunday, which Jessica wouldn’t have minded if he wasn’t trying to disguise it with an over-the-top cheery voice. People who clearly hated their job she could take, happy people she could not – especially if they were putting it on.

Adam knew her well enough to realise her frustration and squeezed her hand as the estate agent fumbled with the front door and led them inside. The man’s spiky hair reminded her of Rowlands from a few years ago and his breath smelled of mint, which Jessica told herself was to cover up the amount of alcohol he had no doubt had the night before.

‘This is the living room,’ he said enthusiastically, showing them into what was, quite obviously, a living room.

‘I was wondering,’ Jessica mumbled loudly enough for Adam to hear.

‘As you can see, the room does need some work but obviously that’s reflected in the price. How about I give you a few moments alone and then I’ll show you the kitchen?’

Adam nodded an acceptance as the agent left the room while Jessica stared at the wall. ‘“Needs some work”? There’s a bloody hole in the wall.’

‘The ad did say, “needs modernising”.’

Jessica crouched and put her hand into the gap in the brickwork where there was a small feathering of insulation. ‘Did it say, “needs a bit of building”?’

Adam laughed. ‘It’s just an old fireplace that’s been taken out. It’s easy enough to fill in and re-paper.’

‘Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I generally prefer to buy houses that don’t have large holes in them.’

‘How many houses have you bought?’

Jessica couldn’t stop herself from giggling. ‘I don’t know. I can’t keep count, seven or eight? I’ve got a holiday home in Barbados.’

The rest of the tour went largely the same way, with a sink that was hanging off the bathroom wall by a pipe being described as ‘in need of some plumbing work’, and exposed electrical wires where there should have been a light fitting ‘something that will need to be looked at’. Jessica would have been only half-surprised to find there was no roof, something the estate agent would surely have called ‘a minor inconvenience’.

She wondered if they should get him involved with their own destroyed property. The fact large parts had burned down and others had collapsed would no doubt provide ‘a unique living arrangement’.

As Adam offered a degree of interest, Jessica switched off from the tour. She was thinking of ways the agent could come and work for their press office, where he could call dead bodies ‘life-impeded’ and describe stab victims as ‘vulnerable to pointed objects’.

Before she could come up with anything further, she found herself standing at the top of the stairs with both men staring at her. It was obvious one of them had just asked a question.

‘Sorry?’ Jessica said, looking from one to the other.

She saw the moment of recognition in the estate agent’s eyes as he figured out her ‘aah’s and ‘ooh’s of the past ten minutes had not been genuine.

‘I was simply wondering if this might interest you, Mrs Compton,’ he repeated.

Jessica looked at Adam, then the man. She felt Adam squeezing her hand. ‘It’s not Mrs Compton.’

The agent stumbled over his reply. ‘Oh, right, sorry, I just assumed . . .’

‘We’ll let you know,’ Adam interjected before any further damage could be done.

Jessica didn’t need to answer Adam’s ‘I take it you don’t fancy it?’ question as they reached the end of the driveway – she couldn’t think of too many worse ways to be spending a weekend.

Because it had been a nice-looking morning, Adam had convinced her to walk to the viewing. As they cut through a selection of alleyways, Jessica wanted to ask him what was really going on with his phone and their laptop but couldn’t bring herself to completely believe there was a problem. Instead they walked in an uncomfortable silence until they reached the entrance to a park that linked the estate to their destination. The early morning sun had been replaced by the usual grey haze which so often seemed to hang over the city, a breeze whipping along the paths. Jessica was regretting not bringing her pilfered jacket and was about to suggest heading for a nearby shopping centre where they could catch a taxi, when she saw a boy leaning up against the fence.

Jessica had always been terrible with children’s ages unless they were babies, and she barely knew the difference between a seven-year-old and a thirteen-year-old. In general, they were just small, probably annoying, people.

As they passed the child, he caught Jessica’s eye and she could see that, although he wasn’t crying, his eyes were red. There were dirty scuff marks on the palms of his hands and smears of mud on his arms.

‘Are you all right . . . mate?’ Jessica asked, not knowing how to approach a child. Was calling someone ‘mate’ considered grooming according to police guidelines? Probably – most things were. She remembered her mother constantly telling her when she was young not to talk to strangers. Now she was the stranger.

His brown hair was ruffled and dirty and Jessica could see an additional mark over one of his eyes as she crouched onto one knee. ‘Where’s your mum?’

‘I don’t know,’ he replied, his eyes filling with tears.

Jessica was feeling more and more uncomfortable. ‘Did you come here with someone?’

The boy nodded.

‘Where did you last see them?’

He turned and pointed towards a small play park a few hundred metres away. ‘I was playing there and Mummy said she would be waiting by the gates.’

Although Jessica felt confident dealing with most situations, the one thing that always panicked her was children. She looked at Adam, making sure the child couldn’t see her, and pulled her best ‘I don’t know what to do’ face, trying to raise her eyebrows in a ‘have you noticed he’s a kid?’ way, just in case that wasn’t apparent.

Adam took the hint and crouched next to her. ‘What’s your name, pal?’ he asked. Was ‘pal’ more of a grooming word than ‘mate’? Either way, Jessica thought it was a good question, something she certainly would have asked if he had been an adult. She wondered why it had eluded her.

‘Corey.’

It didn’t sound particularly Mancunian, but Jessica assumed at least one of his parents had picked it up from an American or Australian television show. It was one step away from ‘Chad’, ‘Bubba’, ‘Buddy’, or something with ‘the Third’ on the end of it.

‘How old are you, Corey?’ Adam continued.

‘Seven.’

‘Right, shall we go find your mummy?’ Adam held out his hand for Corey to take and then started walking towards the play park.

Jessica felt a little embarrassed at not having thought of the obvious solution herself. As they walked across the grass, Adam kept the boy talking, asking what kinds of things he was interested in and whereabouts he lived. If he offered the kid sweets, she’d probably have to arrest him.

‘What happened to your hands, Corey?’ Jessica asked.

‘I fell off the swings.’

‘Is that when you went looking for your mum?’

The boy nodded, before Jessica realised Adam was trying to steer the conversation away from anything that could further upset him.

The play area wasn’t full but there were a few dozen children running around. Adam walked around the edge with Corey, looking from side to side and asking if the boy could see his mother. After one lap, it became clear she wasn’t there. The child had told them his mum had ‘yellow’ hair and was wearing a red coat. Adam suggested that one of them stay with Corey, while the other went off to check the car park and security office. For a moment, Jessica thought he was going to suggest that she stay but, maybe thanks to the panic on her face, he said he would wait.

Jessica first checked the car park but, aside from a group of men in football kit changing their shoes, there was no one else around. The park’s office was on the far side of the field, leaving her navigating around the wettest parts. To make matters worse, after she finally reached the other side, a large sign next to the door read ‘Closed on Sundays’ and the only person anywhere near her was a man walking a dog.

Jessica used the path to return to the park which was technically a longer route but took less time because she wasn’t having to walk around the squelchy parts of the field.

Any hopes that things would already be resolved were dashed as she arrived back at the play park to see Adam waiting just inside the gate with Corey at his side. She gave a slight shake of her head as he noticed her but, unfortunately, the child saw it too. Jessica watched his face fall as Adam crouched and rested an arm on his shoulder.

‘I’m sure she’ll be along any minute,’ Adam said as hopefully as he could.

Jessica wanted to ask him what to do next but didn’t want to say it out loud. She could feel the wind getting stronger as a few parents passed her on their way out of the gate, clearly worried about the gathering clouds overhead. As Jessica turned to watch them go, she saw a woman with blonde hair and a red coat in the distance. She was strolling, chatting to a man who towered over her.