‘Ooh, thank you, Mummy,’ she says, her eyes wide.
I wipe my hands on my apron and pop the tray of cookie dough into the oven. ‘Right, come on, little one. Time to get ready for nursery.’ I set the timer and we go upstairs. The gorgeous smell of baking fills the cottage. It’s incongruous against the horror-backdrop of the situation I’m in.
We still have a bit of time before we need to head out, and Poppy is engrossed in a cartoon on telly – she sulked for a full five minutes when I told her she couldn’t have Daddy’s iPad – so I finally take this opportunity and pluck up the courage to return Maxwell’s call.
‘I was beginning to think you’d dropped off the grid,’ he says. ‘You know I’ve been trying to get hold of you, don’t you?’ His strained voice sounds exhausted. I remind him, wearily, how I’ve had a lot to deal with these past few days. He somewhat huffily informs me that Tom is in a worse position, and maybe the support of his wife would go some way to helping him cope with it. I want to hang up. How dare he take the moral high ground. Poppy and I are the innocent ones in this situation. Whether Tom is innocent or guilty, this whole situation is Tom’s problem – not ours. I never even met Katie. He could be as pure as the driven snow and it wouldn’t make any difference – it’s still me and Poppy at home having to deal with his problems. I think I have every right to be angry; hurt; confused. Scared.
‘Look, I understand how hard this must be,’ he says more softly, obviously taking my silence as a sign he’s been too harsh. ‘It’s not like you saw it coming, is it? You’re well within your rights to feel a whole host of emotions right now. I want to try and help navigate both Tom and you through this.’
‘Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. You’re right – I’m all over the place. But my main priority is Poppy. Tom would want that too. He’s capable of looking after himself; Poppy isn’t.’
‘He is very worried about how this is all affecting her – and you, of course. I want to be able to reassure him, Beth. He’s got zero control over what’s happening outside the custody suite: I’m his only link to the outside world; to his family. I have to try and keep his hope alive, however grim it’s looking.’
‘Oh? It’s looking grim?’ It’s a pointless question, I know, but I had assumed Tom’s own solicitor would at least attempt to make it sound a little positive.
‘The police have found other incriminating evidence, Beth. Still, nothing they have so far is irrefutable proof he had a hand in her disappearance, or murder, or anything else, but with all these separate things mounting up, it certainly helps keep the finger of blame firmly pointed at him.’
I let out a juddering sigh. ‘I understand. A body would be that irrefutable evidence, wouldn’t it?’
‘Depends.’ I imagine Maxwell shrugging.
‘On?’
‘Where the body has been all these years; the cause of death; whether there’s any DNA linking Tom to the body, or the scene. That sort of thing.’
‘But still – if there was a body, and they found evidence of someone else’s DNA on it, that would rule Tom out as a suspect, surely? Every other bit of evidence is purely circumstantial, and a jury couldn’t convict him on that basis. Are the police even looking for her body?’
‘One would assume so. They’ll be trying to find possible locations, but they can’t search everywhere. They’d need a strong lead to begin digging in a particular area. If, indeed, the body was buried, and not disposed of in another manner.’
‘Yes, I suppose.’ My mind wanders and I think of the places Tom and I used to visit when we lived in London. It was only a year after Katie that we got together and I moved into his flat. The flat that Katie had no doubt spent time in. I shiver at the possibilities that I can’t help imagining.
‘Anyway, another reason for my call was to let you know that Tom’s initial hearing is tomorrow. The magistrate will refer the case to the Crown Court because it’s an indictable offence he’s been charged with. There’ll be something called a plea and trial preparation hearing at the Crown Court first, hopefully within about twenty-eight days of tomorrow. Tom is entering a not guilty plea, obviously, and the way it’ll likely go is they’ll refuse bail on the same grounds as before, and he’ll be placed on remand until his trial. Any questions?’
My mind goes blank. This information dump has overloaded my tired brain; I can’t take it all in. So I just say no, I don’t have questions, and that I understand everything. Even though I do have questions, and I understand very little.
‘Okay, great. Well, call me anytime if there’s something you want me to clarify.’ The line goes quiet, and I think this means he’s hung up without saying goodbye. But then he adds, ‘Tom would really like to see you.’ And my limbs go weak.
Do I want to see him?
Chapter 41
BETH
Now
Julia isn’t at nursery; it’s her husband Matt I see instead. Maybe she is nursing a hangover after all. If I’d had someone else to bring Poppy, I’d have gladly allowed them to. Matt doesn’t stop to converse with anyone; he just drops the triplets and rushes off. Not without first casting me a withering look, though. I lower my eyes –
