It was clear.
Whistling a tune, he strolled back to the car.
There was one more thing he needed to do. He drove the two miles into Bisley, the closest village to where she was buried and pulled over outside the parish church. The sun had begun its descent, but it was still very warm, and he was sticky from the hard work. It would have been preferable to go home first and change, but this couldn’t wait.
Crossing the road, he entered the tranquil confines of the proud, stone church. A recent refurb had seen the scratched wooden floors replaced with shiny new beams and new lighting installations meant it wasn’t as dark as it used to be. He preferred it the old way.
He made his way quickly down the side of the church hall to the pews at the front. Here he veered to the right and knelt down in the front row. He prayed feverishly for about ten minutes, then feeling rather light-headed, stood up and moved, unnoticed, to the side aisle where he lit a candle in remembrance.
There.
He watched it flicker for a moment, before turning away. Then he walked quietly up the aisle to the front door and exited the church.
1
Lisa Wells slumped down at the kitchen table and stared into her cup of tea. Was it only Tuesday? She’d overslept and it had been a mad rush to get Katie off for school. The poor tyke had just had time to scoff down a slice of toast before Lisa had kissed her on the forehead, handed her her pink rucksack and shoved her out the door. Her little friend, Candy, met her at the corner and would be waiting. They walked to school together.
Her neighbour, Margo, said she was too young to walk to school by herself. Was eleven too young? In her day, she’d caught the local bus to school from age ten. Besides, she had a friend with her. The two girls were besties and hung out together all the time. That reminded her, she must phone Candy’s mother, Nelly and invite them round for an early supper on Friday. Frozen was showing and the girls could watch while she and Nelly had a glass of wine and a natter in the kitchen.
She wrapped her hands around the mug and forced her brain into gear. She was still groggy from the sleeping tablet she’d taken last night. Bloody Brian. How could one man cause her so much anxiety? Imagine calling her a bad mother, just because she’d moved on and he hadn’t. Prick. It wasn’t her fault he didn’t have a life.
A rush of sadness swept over her. They had been his whole life. Her and Katie. He’d told her that once, soon after Katie was born. Now they were at loggerheads, screaming at each other whenever they met. They hadn’t had a civil conversation in months. How had it all gone so terribly wrong?
She shook her head and gulped down her tea. Twenty minutes until she had to leave for work. God, she was tired.
The tea helped, and she put the cup in the sink and went upstairs to get changed. Luckily, her job was nearby in Barnes Village. She enjoyed the walk, especially on days like today with the sun already up and the blue sky smiling down promises of a warm June day.
She pulled on her skirt and blouse, freshly pressed the night before, and ran a brush through her hair. It was still luscious and thick, although grey strands were starting to show. That was Brian’s fault. They’d only popped up in the last year since he’d moved out.
She sprayed a touch of perfume on her wrists and checked her appearance. Not great, but it would do. The old-age charity where she worked didn’t require her to be immaculate. She wasn’t client-facing, after all. Her jurisdiction was the office at the back where she did the accounts.
It wasn’t where she’d seen herself five years ago, but it was a decent, steady job and the hours suited her. She worked from nine to three, which meant she was able to pick Katie up after school. Not many working parents could say the same. And it was close by.
She was about to leave the house when the telephone rang.
She frowned. Hardly anyone called her on the home phone these days. Only the doctor, the electrical company and the school. They always tried her landline first, then reverted to mobile if there was no answer.
“Hello?”
She put the keys back down on the side cabinet and slid her handbag over her shoulder.
“Mrs Wells? This is Bianca, the receptionist at Bromley Prep. I’m just phoning to find out if Katie is sick today?”
“What?”
There was a moment when time stopped. All she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears. “No, she’s not. She left for school over half an hour ago.”
A pause. “Oh, I see. Well, she hasn’t arrived.”
“There must be some mistake. I saw her off myself. Is Candy there?” She held her breath.
“Yes, Candice is here.”
Thank God. “Well, Katie must be there. They always walk together.”
“I know they usually do, but Candy arrived by herself this morning. I know because the teacher at the gate was surprised to see her by herself.”
The pounding grew louder.
“She arrived alone?”
“Yes.”
There was an awkward pause. Lisa dropped her handbag to the floor and leaned against the wall. She felt sick.
“Mrs Wells, might I suggest you inform the police. I don’t want to alarm you, but she’s definitely not here. She may have got lost, but the police should be informed.”
“Oh, God,” Lisa whispered. “I’ve got to go.”
She hung up and immediately dialled Brian’s number. It rang for ages before he eventually picked up. “Brian, is she with you?”
“What? Who?”
“Katie. Is she with you?”
“No, why would she be with me?
