‘I went for a walk …’
‘Lucy, you know I’ve told you never to go out of the garden without me. Come on now, it’s bedtime.’ How on earth could one describe to a six-year-old the perils that lurked behind the smiling mask of friendly strangers?
‘Don’t be cross, Mummy.’ An engaging smile, and a small hand tucked in hers, made her sigh and decide that her lecture would have to await a more propitious occasion.
It was only when she was making Lucy’s supper that she noticed that her cake-tin was almost empty. She frowned slightly. She had never forbidden Lucy to help herself to food if she wanted it, but neither had she encouraged her. Lucy was not a greedy child, and rarely asked for food between meals, but she could have sworn that that cake-tin had held far more home-made buns last night than it did now.
NORMALLY HEATHER WAS waiting for them outside the school gates, but this morning there was no sign of her, and Claire couldn’t help feeling concerned. Was the little girl ill? Heather wasn’t her responsibility, she reminded herself, and neither her father nor Mrs Roberts would thank her for interfering, and yet she knew that if Jay Fraser’s reaction to her had been different she would have called at the house on her way home and checked to see if Heather was all right.
She knew that Heather was perhaps becoming too attached to her, needing a mother substitute, and while she had scrupulously tried to avoid encouraging the little girl to depend on her in any way at all, she knew that she herself was growing very attached to her. Heather wasn’t her child in the way that Lucy was, but there was something vulnerable in Heather that cried out for love and attention.
Several times during the morning she found herself worrying about her, remembering her wan little face. Heather was frightened of Mrs Roberts, and while she didn’t think the housekeeper would go as far as to physically maltreat the child, there were other ways of inflicting pain and fear on children.
She had almost decided that after lunch she would call round at Whitegates and brave Jay Fraser’s wrath if he found out, when she heard her doorbell ring.
The sight of Jay Fraser standing on her doorstep, flanked by the village constable and a young woman in police uniform, was so shockingly unexpected that she was robbed of breath.
It was the policewoman who spoke first.
‘Mrs Richards. I wonder if we could come in for a moment.’
Conscious of the curiosity of her neighbours, Claire hurriedly agreed. Her small sitting-room had never seemed more cramped. The local policeman, although not as tall as Jay Fraser, was still quite large. He was an older man, married with two grown-up sons, and he seemed pleasant. Now however, he looked worryingly grave, and Jay Fraser, who had refused her offer of a seat, looked almost ill. The tan she had noticed on his first visit now seemed a dirty yellow colour. His immaculate white shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, his tie askew, and his hair ruffled.
‘Mrs Richards, I believe your little girl is very friendly with Mr Fraser’s daughter.’
A terrible sense of foreboding overcame her.
‘Yes, yes, she is, she agreed in a husky voice. ‘They’re … they’re best friends.’
All that she constantly dreaded for her own daughter suddenly filled her mind, and it was as though Heather was actually her own child. She sank down into a chair, her body trembling.
‘Something’s happened to her, hasn’t it?’
Sergeant Holmes grimaced slightly. ‘We’re hoping not, Mrs Richards. We do know, however, that she’s disappeared. Mr Fraser’s housekeeper reported it to us late last evening.’
‘Late last evening?’
‘Yes, after the little girl didn’t come home from school.’ The sergeant frowned, and looked across at Jay Fraser. ‘It’s probably none of my business, sir, but that’s quite a lonely walk home for a six-year-old …’
‘Mrs Roberts had strict instructions to take Heather to and from school,’ Jay said tightly.
In that instant Claire felt for him, truly understanding how he must be feeling. No doubt he had given the housekeeper her instructions, never imagining that they would be disobeyed. More out of compassion for him than anything else Claire said huskily,
‘I … I … used to walk home with her. I didn’t like the thought of her walking alone. It wasn’t far out of our way …’
Instantly the sergeant’s frown disappeared, and he said eagerly, ‘And did you walk back with her yesterday, Mrs Richards?’
‘Why, yes. I always walked her to the gate and saw her safely inside. I …’
She heard the sound that Jay Fraser made and felt her own throat muscles lock in a mingling of pity and fear.
‘Then you must have been the last person to see her.’ The sergeant frowned. ‘Mrs Roberts says that she didn’t come home from school last night.’
And the woman had waited how long to report that she was missing? Inadvertently Claire looked across at Jay and saw the same emotions she was feeling reflected in his eyes.
‘Mmm. I was wondering if we could talk to your little girl, Mrs Richards. Children sometimes confide things to their friends that they don’t tell adults. We won’t say anything to frighten her,’ he added, correctly interpreting her expression.
‘She and Heather were very close,’ Claire admitted. She bit her lip and glanced apologetically at Jay. He wasn’t looking at her. He was staring down at the carpet, his face set and hard.
‘I don’t know if it’s important, but I know that Heather was … well, she didn’t get on very well with Mrs Roberts.’
She caught Jay’s roughly expelled breath, and hurried on. ‘Of course it might not mean anything … and I’m not suggesting that Mrs Roberts was in any way unkind to her … but Heather is a very sensitive child.
‘And you think that perhaps she might have said something to upset the little girl? Children of that age get odd notions into their heads,’ the sergeant agreed. ‘I’ll never forget when our boy decided to leave home. All of five he was, and luckily a neighbour found him pedalling down the road on his trike.’
‘If Heather had walked off like that someone would have seen her,’ interrupted Jay roughly. ‘God—she’s only a baby … ‘His voice was full of anguish. ‘She’s been gone all night … nearly twenty-four hours!’
Claire felt for him, but she suspected that the last thing he would want would be her sympathy. He must be in hell right now, she thought compassionately. What parent wouldn’t be?
‘Have you informed her … her mother, sir?’ Sergeant Holmes asked.
Jay shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t want to know. I would have given her custody of Heather, but she didn’t want her.’ His back straightened, his face suddenly bitterly angry, as he read the expression in the policeman’s eyes. ‘I love my daughter very much, Sergeant,’ he told him curtly, ‘but that doesn’t stop me thinking that a little girl of Heather’s age needs her mother. I can’t be there all the time for her. God, when I think I deliberately looked for an older woman to look after her, thinking that she would be likely to be more responsible! I have to be away a great deal—there’s nothing I can do about it, at least not at the moment …’
‘No one’s blaming you, sir,’ Sergeant Holmes said quietly. ‘All of us here are parents, and we all know what kids