I left the house and turned left towards Malling Fields, crossing the large park at an angle towards the bridge. I used to bring Edie to play here when she was little, pushing her on the swings as she’d sat stone-faced and unmoved.
One day she’d asked me why I kept on bringing her back to the park when she hated it, and I’d turned to her and said sweetly, ‘Because if we don’t get out the house your mother will lose her fucking mind, darling.’
Over the bridge, past the lido; shimmering in the summer like polished turquoise but now, deep into the autumn, the untreated water had turned malachite green beneath the heavy grey sky. On the corner of St Mary de Castro there was a single police car parked, but no officers anywhere to be seen. I pulled my hood up, hoping not to draw attention to myself. I didn’t want them to know what I was doing. I walked quickly past, angling right and down Hillman Terrace towards the school.
It was nearly three. They’d be coming out soon. There were other parents at the gates, but only a handful. Our kids were grown up now, didn’t need us the way they used to.
As the bell rang I stood across the road and craned my neck towards the entrance. I was still feeling the effects of the Valium I’d taken at lunchtime, but there was a rawness to it; my thin resolve had been stripped away. My hands in my pockets, I itched for a cigarette.
Then I saw them. Just two Rattlesnakes arm in arm. Moya and Charlie, moving through the crowd like eels, glossy and sinuous in their tight dark clothes. Moya was a lot shorter than Charlie, with wild curly hair and glossy doe eyes. Charlie was tall and angular and noble-looking, like royalty. She was cover-girl pretty, with a wave of thick black hair over her shoulder. I watched them go through the school gates, heads close together, talking as if in a secret language. Something made them both laugh, Moya with her head thrown back, Charlie as if she was imparting a great secret, looking askance at her friend, one hand over her mouth to hide her secretive smile. I followed them for a while until the crowd thinned out and we were nearing the railway bridge, a tunnel of metal girders criss-crossing overhead, flaking grey paint and rust and graffiti.
I waited till they were on the covered bridge, empty except for the litter blown into the corners, and called out, ‘Hey!’
They both looked back at me, turning slowly. I saw, very clearly, Moya mouth Oh shit. Charlie, of course, was unfazed. She put a hand on her hip and jutted it out, tilting her head and smiling sweetly.
‘Mrs Hudson. We were just talking about you.’ She looked at Moya from beneath her long eyelashes. ‘Weird!’
‘You know something,’ I said abruptly. ‘About Edie. You know something happened to her, and I know that you know that Peter Liverly had something to do with it.’
‘Who?’ Moya said. She looked frightened, but I was too overwrought to be gratified by it. I kept my eye on Charlie, who was still smiling and looking at me with her head on one side. It was like that day back at the beginning, in those numb, strange hours after Edie had disappeared and I’d tried to talk to them in the headmaster’s office – tried to talk to them like an adult would a child, cajoling, patient. I wasn’t going to do that any more. They didn’t deserve my consideration.
‘You mean the old guy from the church? That pervert?’ She said the word ‘pervert’ like a cat purring, rolling her ‘r’s. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s kidnapped her. You should ask Moya, she’s been inside his house.’
Moya looked from Charlie to me and back again. She was wearing a tight skirt of a rubbery material, like PVC, and torn fishnets. Her ears were pierced in neat little rows following the curve all the way to the top.
She pouted crossly. ‘Don’t tell her that, Charlie, you dick.’
‘When? When were you in his house?’
Moya shifted uncomfortably.
Charlie gave her a nudge with her sharp, pointed elbow. ‘Tell her, Moya. She won’t tell on you. Will you, Mrs Hudson?’
‘No,’ I said immediately, unsure if that was true or not. ‘Of course not.’
Moya considered, and when she did finally answer she wouldn’t look me in the eye. ‘Everyone dared me to.’
‘Dared you to what?’
‘Go into his house. There’s a window. I was the only one small enough to go through. I used to bring things out to show them.’
‘Things? What things?’
‘You can see if you like,’ Charlie said brightly, and held out her hand for me to take.
They took me to the back of the churchyard. It was the first time I’d been there since Edie disappeared. My blood roared in my ears. My baby. My little girl. She had been here. Right here.
‘Come on then,’ Charlie said, laughing now. She turned towards me and pressed her face against mine. It was so intimate I could smell her perfume, the powder on her skin. When she spoke her breath fluttered along my cheekbones. ‘We’ll show you our treasures.’
Then she was walking away, swinging her schoolbag by the handle. Moya hustled to catch up with her. I’m drawn to trouble. That’s what my mum always said. So of course I went with them, through the large wrought-iron gates, veering off the
