‘Now that sounds weird to me already. We need follow-ups on all the attendees. We need to locate this Rhys. I know you’ve made a start, Wyre, but can I leave that one with you? As soon as you have anything, let me know. I’ll be paying Dawn a visit too. O’Connor, will you assist Wyre?’
Gina’s phone beeped again. Thinking it might be Bernard with further information, she snatched it out of her pocket. Her face began to redden as she placed it on the table face down. Chatter began to fill the room as each of the detectives and officers prepared for the afternoon ahead.
Briggs walked over, smiling as he stood beside her. She returned his smile as he passed her a piece of paper. ‘Here you go. I’ve prepared the press release and I’ll pass it to Annie. We really need to put out an appeal for witnesses. Apart from that, Harte, you’re the Senior Investigating Officer. Keep me updated. Call me if you need anything.’ All that remained was the smell of his musky aftershave, the one she’d always loved. After all that had happened, she still thought about him, a lot. She doubted she’d ever stop. She grabbed her phone and replied to her messages.
Sorry Rex, I can’t meet for a drink tonight. Have a lovely time though! Gina.
He’d been a mistake, not like the mistake she made with Briggs, a real mistake. Some mistakes were not made to regret but Rex was. A message pinged back. He wasn’t getting the hint.
O’Connor looked away from his screen and grinned. ‘The council have come up trumps. We have an address for one of our party-going couples.’
Nine
Diane pulled at the creaky wooden gate, trying to force it closed with her stiff fingers. Pain shot through her knees, almost causing her leg to buckle. That old rotten gate was as creaky as she was.
The wood had warped over the years and seasons, and she’d never had it fixed, never had the money or the skill required. Not that it mattered. She’d always felt safe in her little house at the end of a terrace in such a quiet area. She gasped as she reached the back door and turned the key in the lock, pushing the shopping through first.
She dropped the bags on the kitchen table. One from the food bank and one full of all the reductions she could find at the supermarket. Turning up in the afternoon sometimes paid off and today it did. A variety of vegetables for less than a pound in total. With the tin of corned beef and stock cubes from the food bank, a stew was on the menu for later. As she grabbed the fresh loaf, laden with price-reduction stickers, a bright envelope caught her eye.
The post had already been delivered before she’d left for the shops. It had to be a hand delivery. The pink envelope lay on the doormat. It wasn’t her birthday so who would send her a card? At least it looked like it could be a card. She hobbled along the hallway and flinched as she kneeled. The latest flare up of arthritis had been one of her worst.
The envelope wasn’t even sealed. She pulled out a pink card. On the front, the large letters wished someone a happy birthday, but it wasn’t her. If she found out who it belonged to, maybe she could post it to them. It was probably meant for one of her neighbours, someone had obviously posted it through the wrong letterbox.
She gently opened it, hoping to find out who it belonged to. As she read the cut out letters, she gasped. Staggering back into the kitchen, she switched on the main light. ‘It can’t be,’ she whispered under her breath as she lifted up the fingernail from the fold of the card. Seven years ago, that was when she last saw her friend. Since then, her friend had been nothing but a memory, silent in all ways. There had been no calls, no letters, no visits. She’d simply vanished.
There was a knock at the front door. Her heart slammed against her chest and she gasped. ‘Samantha?’ She made her way back towards the front door and peered through the spyhole and held her chest as her heart rate began to slow down. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said as she opened the door.
He walked in with a big smile and a large bag of food. ‘I’m glad to see you’re so pleased to see me. I come bearing goodies.’ She peered into the bag and spotted the crisps and chocolates she loved so much. Any other day she’d be thrilled.
‘I thought you were someone else,’ she muttered.
‘Hey, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ As he led her to her seat at the kitchen table, she knew he’d spotted the card. ‘It’s not your birthday.’
‘It’s not for me.’
‘Shall I take it to where it belongs when I leave?’
She shook her head. ‘That won’t be necessary, bro.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t call me bro. It sounds so silly at our age.’ He began to pack the food away, piling it up in the empty cupboards. ‘You know it pains me to see you like this. You need to get out more, meet up with friends. You do look peaky. You’re not in debt again, are you? You know I’m always here to help.’
And he had been. He’d helped her find a new home, one that her benefits would cover. He’d nursed her through a heavy depression after losing her job. For that, she would always be grateful to him. He began to wipe the surfaces with a cloth and piled the washing-up into the bowl. ‘Look at the card.’ She pushed it along the table, open at the text.
As he leaned over and read it, his mouth dropped open. ‘Your friend Samantha. Who would send a card to her after all this time?’
Tears began to well up in the corner of Diane’s eyes as she shrugged. ‘Maybe someone knows something. What do I do?’
‘Nothing. It’s just someone playing a prank. She knew a lot of people and lots of people knew you were friends.’ He turned the hot tap on and began filling the washing-up bowl. The musty room began to smell soapy and clean. ‘You need to forget her and move on. You’ve been going on a lot lately, about her, and where she might be and I’m sick of hearing about it. I’m sick of hearing about her. She wasn’t the perfect person you always made her out to be. She left you remember.’
‘She vanished. It’s a bit different. And she never got in touch. She wouldn’t do that to me.’
‘Yes, like people never let you down and do things you wouldn’t expect them to do. People abandon people all the time and she was no better than anyone else.’ He threw the little sponge into the soapy bowl.
‘She didn’t abandon me. You can be such a cynic.’ Diane’s brow furrowed. ‘Anyway, why would someone do this? You know, send a card. I searched for her for years. Nothing. And now someone chooses to send me this. They’ve gone to a lot of effort, cutting out all these letters from a magazine.’ Her bottom lip began to tremble. ‘I’m scared and you don’t seem to be taking this seriously.’
He turned off the tap. ‘Look, Diane. I’m not going to say it again, it’s just someone playing a stupid prank. People love playing pranks. Someone out there is having a laugh and you’re falling for it.’ He placed her usual tablets out on the side. They were all ready for her to take. He leaned over and removed the clump of straggly grey hair that hid her face and placed it behind her ear. ‘That’s better, I can see you. I’ve put a new hairbrush in the draw too. Eat the chocolate, put some weight on and sort your hair out. I don’t have to worry about you, do I? I never want things to be like they were before.’
‘No, you never have to worry about me.’ She pulled down the sleeve of her coat, the scarring on her wrist now concealed. She knew he was a worrier and that scar was a constant reminder of what she’d put him through during her last episode. ‘But I am worried over why someone would leave this in the card?’ She held the tiny fingernail in the palm of her hand.
