The Moon Spun Round (30 page)

‘No, not at all.’

‘Did she behave any different to usual?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Abbie.

‘She was bit quiet, don’t you think?’ said George. ‘Usually you can’t stop her talking.’

‘A little perhaps…’

‘I see. Do you have any idea why that was?’

Abbie shrugged. ‘It’s a busy time of year for their business. Tired maybe.’

‘How did she seem with her husband?’ He clicked his pen, as if expecting to record something significant.

‘Fine, as always.’ Abbie hoped she hadn’t spoken too quickly. ‘They danced together several times. I noticed they were holding hands when we walked them home.’ So far it was all true.

‘I see.’ He looked almost disappointed. ‘And she never said anything about going anywhere this morning? Visiting family or anything?’

‘Not a thing. When Jack rang me earlier, he said he’d already contacted the daughters and they knew nothing.’

‘And you had no contact with either Mr or Mrs Clifton after you left them last night?’

Abbie shook her head. She was fairly sure the young constable used to play in the school football team along with her Philip. Somehow that made it easier, knowing it was him she was lying to and not some anonymous authority. But should she be lying at all? What about Ruth?

‘Not a thing,’ said George. ‘We both went straight to bed. Out like a light, I’m afraid. I didn’t wake till nearly nine. You were up before me, weren’t you, love?’

‘Yes, I’m not used to lying in. I did try to ring Ruth a couple of times.’

‘When was that?’

‘Between eight and nine. Couldn’t get through, the line was engaged. Then Jack rang me and said he didn’t know where she was. What do you think’s happened to her?’

‘Probably nothing. People are reported missing all the time, then turn up right as rain. It’s only been a few hours and we wouldn’t normally be concerned at this point. Only Mr Clifton is a fellow member of the cricket club and I…er…’

‘Yes, well it’s good of you to take the trouble,’ said George. ‘As you say, there’s bound to be a logical explanation. Is there anything else we can do to help? Perhaps I ought to go round and be with Jack. What do you think, Abbie?’

‘I think he could certainly use some support right now. Yes, go on, George. Unless you need us for anything else, Constable?’

‘No, not at the moment. But I’ll need to speak to the other lady who saw them home. That’s the old cottage that sold recently, isn’t it? What did you say her name was?’

‘That’s right. Sally Lavender.’

‘Well, thanks for your help. Please get in touch if you remember anything else, even if you think it’s unimportant.’

The constable left and George followed him out immediately, stopping only to give Abbie a peck on the cheek and tell her not to worry.

Sally takes the stairs two at a time and shakes Naomi awake.

‘Oh God, what time is it? What’s happened? Is she all right?’

‘Claire’s fine, but Ruth’s still missing.’

‘What? You mean she hasn’t been home since last night?’

Sally nods. ‘Abbie just rang. There’s a policeman on his way round here.’

‘Oh, shit.’ Naomi is on her feet. ‘What did Abbie tell him?’

‘Nothing. We left Ruth and Jack at their gate and haven’t seen or heard from either of them since.’

There’s a knock at the front door.

‘That’ll be him now. I’ll have to let him in.’

‘I’ll warn Claire, tell her not to make a sound.’

‘Good idea. Then come down. We’ll say you’re visiting. He’ll want to see you anyway.’

There’s another knock, but Sally is already running downstairs and heading towards the door.

‘Please come in, Officer.’ She’s out of breath, which must look bad. She tries
to smile then realizes how inappropriate that is under the circumstances. ‘It’s about Ruth, is it?’

‘That’s right Miss, er…’ He consults his notebook. ‘Lavender, is it?’

‘Yes, Sally Lavender.’ She pulls out a chair for him and sits down herself.

He places his cap carefully on the kitchen table before sitting. ‘I understand you walked home with Mr and Mrs Clifton after the disco last night?’

‘Yes. We took Fran and Naomi home first. Naomi’s here, by the way. She’ll be down in a moment.’

Constable Farrow clicks his pen and writes it all down in his little book. ‘And what time would that have been?’

And so they go over it again. And when Naomi joins them he hears the same story for a third time. They’re not exactly lying to the police, are they? Simply omitting certain facts. But they avoid looking at each other for fear of giving something away.

‘So you all went to your address first, Miss Walker? And where would that be?’ Naomi tells him, even though she’s quite sure he knows where her workshop is. ‘I see. So you haven’t seen Mrs Clifton since you arrived home in the early hours? Have you heard from her at all since then?’

‘No.’

‘And you are visiting Miss Lavender because…?’

‘When Abbie told me Ruth was missing,’ says Sally, ‘I let Naomi know. She came round to see if there was any news.’

‘I see. Right.’ He closes his book and clicks his pen before tucking it in his top pocket. ‘Thank you for your help. And try not to worry too much.’ He gives them the obligatory speech about missing people turning up unharmed. ‘I’m sure I won’t have to call again.’ It sounds more like a threat than a message of hope.

From her bedroom window, Abbie is watching Wicker Lane. As soon as she sees the police vehicle come around the bend from Sally’s place she runs downstairs, grabs her coat and heads across the stable yard towards the copse. She has to knock on the back door, which is being kept locked. At least they’re doing something right.

‘I managed to get through to Fran,’ she says. ‘She’ll drive over to Ruth’s daughters, see if there’s anything she can do there. She’ll see us later.’

‘Great. Now, will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?’ Naomi looks from Sally to Abbie.

So, seated round Sally’s kitchen table, they go over everything yet again. Naomi learns little more than she has already gathered.

‘You’re saying she left this room without anyone noticing? And she hasn’t been seen since?’

‘That’s about it,’ says Abbie. ‘When Jack first asked me if I’d seen her, I said no. I didn’t realize then that she hadn’t been home. And when I did…well…We were trying to protect Claire, weren’t we, so it seemed easier to stick to the same story. But now I’m really worried. She’s been gone—what—nearly six hours? Where the hell can she be?’

‘It’s starting to look bad,’ says Sally. ‘Shouldn’t we come clean and tell the police?’

‘She went out into the night and no one knows where she is,’ says Naomi. ‘I can’t see it makes much difference if she left from home or from here. She’s still missing.’

‘More to the point, why did she leave without telling us?’ says Abbie.

‘I think it’s obvious why she left.’ Naomi slaps her hand on the table. ‘Claire was hurt and we all know who was responsible.’

‘Even more reason to tell the police,’ says Sally. ‘We’re digging ourselves into a hole and soon we won’t be able to get out of it. Meanwhile anything could be happening to Ruth.’

‘Look, the police are already onto it. We’d have to tell them about Claire and it would all come out. You saw how scared she looked.’

‘Naomi’s right,’ says Abbie. ‘Let’s talk to Claire first. We need to know exactly what it is she’s hiding from.’

And so they talk around in circles until it’s agreed that they will wait a little longer and see what happens. Meanwhile they have to talk with Claire. ‘Sally, I’m going to ask you a big favour.’ Naomi gets up from the table and stretches her back.

‘What’s that?’

‘You’ve been brilliant, letting me stay here all night. I know it’s an imposition, but I couldn’t possibly stay a few more days, could I? Just until Claire starts to mend?’

‘Of course you can. In fact I’d like you to. Then we can keep a permanent watch on her. We can take turns sleeping in the spare bed, if that’s all right.’

‘More than all right. Oh, you’re an angel.’ Naomi gives her a hug. ‘I’d better go home and collect a toothbrush and a change of clothes. Perhaps I ought to do that while Abbie’s here. I’ll only be gone a few minutes.’

‘Good idea.’

‘I’ll go up and check on her now,’ says Abbie. ‘The poultice needs changing
again anyway. We can do that while you’re gone. And when you come back we’ll need to sit down with her and find out what the hell we’re getting ourselves into.’

Abbie leaves the room and Naomi looks for her car keys.

‘Here, I think these are yours.’ Sally finds them on the kitchen counter. ‘Naomi,’ she says, ‘before you go I need to say something.’

‘What’s that?’ Naomi finds her coat.

‘It’s just that…Well…You and Claire. Fran explained to me how you feel about her.’

‘Did she?’

‘I’m sure she was trying to help. I probably would have guessed anyway, sooner or later.’

‘Claire has no idea, you know. I mean, she realizes I’m gay, but that’s all. It’s my problem, she has enough of her own.’

Sally lays her hand on Naomi’s shoulder. ‘She obviously values your friendship.’

‘Yes, she does. And right now she needs all the friends she can get.’

As soon as she parks the car, Naomi feels uneasy. Something has changed, even though there’s nothing to be seen. No sign of a break-in, no damage to the windows or the doors to her flat and workshop. She reaches out her hand, tracing the air a few inches from the door. The seals she has placed around the building, discernible only to herself, are still intact. She checks the workshop first, where nothing appears to have been disturbed, then goes upstairs to her flat. Again, everything is as it should be.

Still feeling uncomfortable, she gathers a few clothes and some things from the bathroom and stuffs them into a holdall. The answerphone is flashing, announcing she has eight calls. There may be something urgent. When she presses playback there’s one business inquiry followed by a stream of Happy New Year messages that would have delighted her at any other time. She carries on with her packing while listening. Should she take her magical implements, just a few basic things? A bunch of very drunken friends are singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ all the way from Scotland. She makes sure her credit cards and chequebook are in her bag.

And then her blood runs cold.

‘Naomi, is it? Naomi the witch? Naomi, witch, bitch!’ His voice is soft, almost a whisper. ‘My wife with you, is she? Gone running to her little friend? Yes,
well, I know what sort of games you play and I don’t want that sort of filth in my bed. So don’t think you can send her back to me when you’ve finished with her. No man would touch that slut after she’s been with you. You’re welcome to her. Just tell her to keep her mouth shut if she knows what’s good for her.’ Naomi’s first instinct is to wipe the tape clean and clear the air of his voice, but she makes herself play it back again, memorizing the words and taking note of the time. She remembers his reaction last evening when he saw her touching Claire. His property, he owned her. Why would he give up his prize possession so easily? 9.30 a.m., the recording says. So what had he been doing between the time Claire ran away from him and the time he made the call? He might have been drinking, but he doesn’t sound drunk. He knew exactly what he was saying.