Disordered Minds

wife last night and she said it would be cruel to raise the Trevelyans' hopes if it isn't Cill.'

Privately, George agreed with him. She was back on night shifts and she'd mulled the problem over during her quiet periods. Without any expectation of William Burton coming through with the name of the detective agency, she had considered hiring one herself to find out who Priscilla Fletcher was. A quick browse on the Internet on her return home gave promises of 'confidentiality,' 'discretion' and 'caution,' with hourly prices and flat fees not entirely beyond her bank balance.

Even so, there were too many ethical dilemmas for someone of George's sensibilities. Whoever Priscilla Fletcher was, she had the same right to privacy as anyone else-unless she'd committed a crime-and George could hardly argue that the theft of a wallet was justifiable grounds for breaking her cover. If she was Cill Trevelyan or Louise Burton, then it was a moral minefield. Both women had chosen to distance diemselves from their families, and George had no entitlement to expose them. Yet that would be the inevitable outcome if a detective agency made a link with Cill, for George had no confidence that the Trevelyans' long search for their daughter wouldn't prompt a sympathetic-but discreet-approach in return for a fee.

Nor, from a selfish point of view, could George see what use the information would be to her. If the woman turned out to be Cill or Louise, George would still have to persuade her to tell her story; and what leverage could she use except threats of exposure? 'Tell me what I want to know or I'll give this information to your parents.' Apart from the absurdly childish nature of the menace, George wouldn't be able to carry it through. It rubbed against the grain of all her principles-namely the inalienable right of every individual to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

In the early hours she'd recognized how much easier it would be if she could approach the Trevelyans' detective agency as a concerned citizen who'd spotted a similarity between Cill and a woman living in Sandbanks. Whatever the outcome, they'd feel obliged to tell her something, if only to stop her pursuing the search herself. Nevertheless, she appreciated as soon as William Burton gave her the agency's details that one avenue had been closed. George didn't believe he'd have given them to her if he thought Priscilla Fletcher was his sister. Or would he? Was it a double bluff? 'Perhaps I should just abandon it,' she said with a disingenuous sigh. 'If it is Cill Trevelyan, then she obviously doesn't want to be found.'

He didn't answer immediately. 'That's what I thought until my wife asked me how I'd feel if one of the twins went missing. You'd never get over it, particularly if you found out she'd been raped and hadn't told you. I've been thinking about it all night and I reckon the parents have rights, too, even if just to know she's still alive.' He paused again. 'If it's any help, I made the point about Cill not wanting to be found to this Bristol agency, and they said she couldn't be forced to see her parents if she didn't want to.'

'What's changed your mind, Mr. Burton?' George asked curiously.

'About what?'

'You've lived with this for thirty years but you're suddenly taking it personally. Why?'

'No one bothered to show me a photograph before,' he said flatly. 'They were looking for Lou, so it wasn't necessary ... but it made me realize how young Cill was. My dad always said she was a flighty piece who was too forward for her own good and, once you get an idea into your head, it's difficult to shift. There wasn't much sympathy for her in our house, not after Lou started refusing to go out. The folks blamed Cill for everything. 'If only Louise had never met that bloody girl...'-that was all they could say for months.' He fell silent.

'Cill seemed to have suffered a lot of abuse,' George said unemotionally. 'Reading between the lines of the newspaper articles, I got the impression her father didn't think twice about hitting her.'

'He was always taking his belt to her. It didn't stop her acting up, though, just made her run away rather than face another larruping.'

'Because of the fight with Louise?'

'Yes.'

George made a pencil tick on a notepad in front of her. 'It seems odd the school only punished Cill for it,' she said mildly. 'You'd think they'd both be suspended.'

'Lou said Cill wouldn't explain, so the head gave her her marching orders. That's how it worked in those days.'

'What was Lou's explanation?'

'Probably what she told our folks-that Cill had tried to persuade her to truant again.'

'It doesn't sound like the truth, though, does it? It's more likely she was teasing Cill about the rape ... maybe even threatening her. Something along the lines of: do what I want in this relationship or I'll tell on you.' She waited through a brief silence. 'It takes a lot of imagination to understand how devastating rape can be to the victim, particularly gang rape. It's as much a violation of the mind as it is of the body. The poor child was probably scrubbing herself raw every day in order to wash off their filth. Would Louise have understood how badly her friend had been damaged?'

'No.'

'Which is why she did nothing to help her?'

'She was too scared. They dragged Cill by her hair, then kicked the shit out of her. There was blood all over her legs ... that's why Lou went back for some trousers.' His voice took on a sudden urgency. 'You don't think about psychological stuff when you're a kid ... you can't ... most of the time you're struggling to understand why your parents never stop arguing. It might have been different if Cill hadn't launched in on us. She kept saying she'd kill us if we blabbed-' He broke off abruptly.

George let the admission ride. 'She must have been very frightened of her father. Have you never asked yourself why she talked sexy? How did she know so much about it? Physical and sexual abuse often go hand in hand.'

There was a long silence. 'Why does he keep sending people to look for her?'

'Any number of reasons. Guilt ... love ... obsession. A friend of mine's convinced he went too far and killed her, so perhaps he's trying to pretend she's still alive.'

'That's what my folks thought at the time-lots of people did-but I remember Dad saying he'd been questioned and let go because there was nothing in the house to show Cill had died. Plus, they never found a body.'

'And when they did find one, Cill was promptly forgotten,' said George with deliberate flippancy.