‘It’s all fine. Sorted.’
‘I was hoping for a bit more detail than that.’ Seeing my glare, Dom says, ‘Pollard went to 16 Wyddial Lane.’
‘Himself? I thought he was going to send child protection people?’
‘I don’t know. He said he went himself.’
‘Do you think that means he passed it on to child protection and they weren’t convinced enough to do anything?’
‘I’ve no way of knowing.’
‘Try letting Dad speak,’ Zannah suggests.
‘He talked to Kevin Cater and Yanina, and also to the children: Thomas and Emily. Had a nice long chat with them all, he said. In his opinion, all’s well and there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Nothing to worry about?’Don’t lose it, Beth. Don’t scream. Think about how insane Miss Hosmer sounded on Zannah’s video. You don’t want to sound like that.‘What did you say, when he said that?’ I ask.
‘I thanked him for looking into it and for letting me know he had.’
‘That’s all?’
‘Yes. Should I have said something else? He’d done all he was going to do, and, let’s face it, he needn’t have done anything.’
‘But, Dad, you know there’s something to worry about: all the things that still don’t make sense.’
‘Pollard knows about those things too,’ I say quietly.
Dom looks past me into the middle distance, as if listening intently to someone behind me that I can’t see or hear. I’ve got a strong feeling that person is begging him not to lose his temper.
‘You’re right, Beth. Pollard knows everything that’s happened, he’s been to the house, and the net result of all that is what I’ve just told you: he’s satisfied nothing more needs to be done.’
‘And so we should be too? Did he go to Thomas’s school? Did he talk to Lou Munday?’
‘I don’t know. He didn’t say anything about the school.’
‘Course he didn’t go to the school,’ says Zannah.
‘Did he find out if Georgina Braid is dead or still alive?’
Dom looks puzzled – as if this is the last question he’d have expected me to ask. ‘He didn’t mention Georgina at all.’
‘And you didn’t either?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Did he speak to any of the Caters’ neighbours? Did you tell him about the shoes?’
‘The …’ He looks puzzled. Then he remembers. ‘No, I didn’t tell him about Thomas Cater’s fucking shoes!’ Dom snaps. ‘I’m sick of this, Beth. Do you want to know why I didn’t ask all the questions you wish I’d asked? I don’t care any more! Whatever the Braids are up to, I don’t give a shit, as long as I can get my life back – the life that didn’t involve talking about the Braids and the Caters every waking second of every day.’
‘That’s understandable,’ I say. Now that he’s lost his temper, I feel calmer. ‘I’ve been expecting you to share my level of obsession. It wasn’t fair of me. I’m sorry, okay.’
Dom eyes me suspiciously.
‘I promise I’ll stop talking to you about this soon,’ I say, knowing he won’t notice the ‘to you’, or think about what it might mean. ‘I have one more question: did Pollard say anything else, apart from what you’ve told me? Anything at all.’
‘Yes.’ Dom looks trapped. I know how he feels. I also know I’m not prepared to feel it for much longer. ‘He told me Kevin Cater admitted lying to us about his children’s names. Cater told him he’d been reluctant to reveal the real names because he was worried you had a strange obsession with his children.’
‘Did he or Yanina admit that they both pretended she was Jeanette when we went round?’
