‘Such a pretty girl, but sullen – I put it down to her mother’s impending death – an awful thing for her to have to cope with.’ Ruth Kinnaird
‘Lark has an attitude, a stroppy teenager. But she has a lot on her plate with her mum dying.’ Finn Kinnaird
‘No, I never met either of them. I was in the farmhouse, working on my graphic novel.’ Julia Collis
‘I can’t believe my sister would go off with Jackson voluntarily.’ Thomas Taylor
‘He’s an extremely good-looking man. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tempted her away.’ Maddie Jenkins
*
It was mid-afternoon when Kate and Gavin were called into the forest. There were five in all – hanging from trees closest to the site – masks depicting the face of a young boy, swaying hauntingly in the light breeze.
Kate swallowed. ‘Christ. Who the fuck put these up?’
‘There’s blood on the bark of a tree, ma’am,’ said a young constable. ‘And wheel marks in soil nearby.’
But there was no sign of Lark or Jackson.
Later, Kate gathered everyone back in the conservatory.
‘You can leave Drummondale House,’ she said, dragging her fingers through her short hair. ‘But don’t leave the country. We may need to talk to some of you again, so leave contact details.’
‘Get the cases, Neil,’ Rosamund said, jumping up. ‘We need to get away from here, for Elise’s sake.’
The girl looked up from her Kindle. And within seconds she was on her feet and following Rosamund through the door.
‘Sorry,’ Neil said to the room, rising too. He leaned in, and kissed Caroline’s cheek. ‘Keep in touch, won’t you? And if there’s anything we can do, just shout. I hope to God you find them soon.’
Once the Green family had left, Kate drifted outside to take a call from traffic police.
‘Jackson’s car has appeared twice on CCTV,’ the officer told her. ‘Once on the A9 at Aviemore, and later on the M90 heading south, and there’s something else.’
‘Go on.’
‘There was nobody in the passenger seat.’ A beat. ‘And the driver had shoulder-length brown hair and was wearing a mask.’
*
‘We’ll do a wider search at first light,’ Kate said; now back in the conservatory, beating down thoughts that the lass may already be dead. She took a deep breath. ‘We’ll grab the locals to help, and get the dogs up here, plus coastal rescue.’
‘I’d like to stay and help,’ Amelia said.
‘Me too,’ Robert said with a sad nod. It was clear the man had been crying.
‘Good.’ Kate rose, and doing her best to sound positive, she added, ‘We’ll do everything in our power to find her.’
Chapter 41
A Year Ago
Amelia
The blood on the bark of the tree was human, but untraceable. The masks had no fingerprints. Neither Ruth’s trolley nor Thomas’s wheelchair had matched the wheel imprints. The wider search had revealed nothing either, and a TV appeal several days later only attracted a few dead ends. Things weren’t looking hopeful.
Amelia returned to London a week later, unable to cope with seeing her parents and Thomas fall apart.
But the irony was, being in London was no easier. The months that followed dragged her down. Pulled her so far under, she could barely breathe.
*
‘She only has a few more weeks,’ her dad said down the phone. ‘That’s what the nurses have said. If you want to visit, now would be a good time.’
Amelia had packed an overnight bag and headed straight there.
Her heart had constricted as she stepped into her mum’s bedroom. Seeing her so washed out, her eyes so heavy, broke her heart.
‘I’m so glad you’re here, Amelia,’ her mum said. Whether it was the cancer or Lark’s disappearance that had caused her mum’s light to fade so fast, Amelia couldn’t be sure.
After kissing her mum’s cheek, Amelia looked about her. This room was where Caroline had worked on flower arrangements after Rosamund’s florist closed. She’d set up a small business, all those years ago – not that it had been particularly successful – and there were still boxes of ribbons, silk flowers and rolls of cellophane piled high on a pine table.
A pale-blue journal and gold pen lay on the bedside cabinet, and rows of photo albums she’d made over the years lined a pine shelf. Watercolours of flowers – bluebells, daffodils and roses – hung on the walls. Her dad had left everything as it was when she moved out with Jackson.
The single bed, where Caroline had spent most of the time over the last few weeks, was new. Robert bought it when she moved back in. ‘Stay,’ he’d said to her. ‘Stay, until Lark and Jackson are found.’
It was a sunny bedroom – cheery, the open window letting in a warm breeze that gently moved the pretty lilac curtains. It was a nice place to spend her final days.
Amelia gripped her mother’s hand, the feel of her skin against hers comforting, yet at the same time tearing her apart to see her mother so ill.
They talked about anything and everything, but avoided any mention of how little time they had left to share those precious words.
‘Could you look in my bag? There’s a letter inside.’
Amelia leaned over and picked up the bag. Handed it over.
‘I need you to post it for me,’ her mum said, pulling out a sealed envelope and handing it over.
Amelia turned the envelope over in her hands. It was addressed to Neil Green. ‘What’s it about, Mum?’
‘Just do this one thing for me, Amelia. Neil needs to get this letter. Don’t ask me why, please. Just post it.’
Amelia knew her mum was getting a little confused due to the morphine, but today, although she was growing tired now, she felt sure her mum knew what she was doing.
‘It’s important.’ Her mum closed her eyes, sighed, and with a voice barely audible, added, ‘That’s all you need to know.’
Amelia had fought down tears
