‘Nate, sweetheart, I need to get up.’ I gave him a squeeze. ‘Try to get back to sleep.’
He rolled onto his back and looked up at me with a hopeful expression. ‘Is Immy home?’
I kept my voice light. ‘Not yet. But I expect the police are already back out looking for her. They’ll find her soon, I promise.’
Nate rubbed his eyes. ‘I had a nightmare that she jumped into the river without her armbands on and she sank to the bottom because she couldn’t swim, and then she turned into a mermaid and tried to get me to jump in the river to be with her. But I didn’t, because I didn’t want to leave you and Dad.’
I bent down and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. ‘I’m glad you didn’t.’
‘Because I’m your favourite?’
‘Mums don’t have favourites. It’s the law,’ I said.
Stuart was sitting at the kitchen island, dressed in the same cargo shorts and T-shirt he’d been wearing yesterday. His face was grey with exhaustion and his hands were wrapped around a mug of coffee. He climbed down from the stool. ‘Want one?’
I shook my head. Just the thought of it made my stomach churn.
He sat back down. ‘Did you get any sleep?’
‘Not much. What about you?’
‘I gave up trying at two and went out looking for her.’
I stiffened. ‘You did what?’
‘I went out in the car and drove around looking for Immy.’
‘Oh, Stuart. The police said we should leave the searching to them.’
‘I can’t sit here waiting for news. It’s killing me.’
I went to straighten the messy pile of magazines, kids’ comics and letters on the island, then stopped. What was the point? ‘How long were you out?’ I asked.
‘A couple of hours. I haven’t been home long.’
‘Why don’t you go to bed now? I’ll take Nate to school.’
He turned to me in disbelief. ‘You’re not suggesting he goes in today?’
‘Why wouldn’t he? We should keep things as normal as possible for him.’
‘Normal?’ Stuart gave a bark of laughter. ‘Things couldn’t be less normal if we tried.’
‘He needs his routine, and he loves school.’ Instinct told me I was right, and I was prepared to fight my corner. ‘I’m not arguing about it. He’s going.’
‘Whatever you say.’ Stuart stared into his mug. A single tear rolled down his cheek and splashed onto the marble worktop. It was joined by another and then another until tears were streaming down his face.
‘Come on, Stu,’ I said. ‘You need to pull it together.’
‘But it’s all my fault,’ he mumbled.
I looked up sharply. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m the stay-at-home dad. I should have been looking after the kids. But I didn’t, I…’ He was crying properly now, his entire body juddering. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’
He made no effort to wipe the tears away, which I found unnerving. He was supposed to be the strong one, the protector, and yet here he was, sobbing like a child, drowning in self-pity. As much use as a chocolate fucking teapot.
I slammed a box of tissues on the worktop and stomped out of the room.
A rap on the door just after seven o’clock sent my heart rate soaring. It could only be the police with news of Immy. As I ran down the stairs, I played out the possible scenarios in my head. They’d found her curled up asleep in a neighbour’s shed, or a well-meaning but absentminded pensioner had found her wandering the streets and had taken her in but hadn’t thought to call the police. By the time I reached the front door, I was thinking the worst. They’d found her body in the Stour or discovered CCTV footage of her being dragged into the back of an anonymous white van.
My mouth was dry as I turned the latch and opened the door. A woman in a navy trouser suit was standing on the doorstep. She had a blonde pixie cut and a shrewd gaze, and although she was smiling, I was immediately on my guard.
‘If you’re a reporter, you can bugger off.’
‘Good morning, Mrs Cooper…’ she began.
‘Did you hear me?’ I knew I sounded belligerent, but I couldn’t care less. ‘Contact the police if you want any information. We’re not giving interviews, all right?’
Her mouth twitched. ‘I am the police.’ She pulled a warrant card out of her trouser pocket. ‘DC Sam Bennett. I’m the family liaison officer. I think the late turn sergeant told you to expect me?’
‘Not this early, she didn’t.’ I shook her proffered hand. ‘Sorry about the welcome. I didn’t get much sleep last night.’
‘There’s no need to apologise. I understand.’
I was too frightened to ask for news. She’d have told me by now if they’d found Immy, wouldn’t she? Instead I said, ‘I suppose you’d better come in. But you’ll have to forgive the state of the house.’ I led her into the kitchen where Stuart was still sitting slumped at the island. He raised bloodshot eyes to the newcomer but didn’t bother to stand.
‘This is the family liaison officer. I’m sorry,’ I said, turning to her, ‘I’ve forgotten your name.’
‘DC Sam Bennett,’ she said again, stepping forwards and offering Stuart her hand. ‘I’m here to support you during the search for Imogen.’
‘She’s called Immy,’ Stuart said. ‘And since when did the police have their own counsellors?’
‘I’m not a counsellor, although I am specially trained to work with families at times like these. I’m also your link with the investigation team. If you have any questions, I can raise them directly with the officer in the case.’
‘Investigation? Case? It sounds more
