Think of the Children (33 page)

Although she had memorised the layout of the estate so carefully, converting that into three dimensions while running as fast as she could in her old gym shoes was a different matter. Grabbing a
lamppost, she used it to swing herself around and headed into a ginnel she felt certain would lead to a second passageway that would hopefully bring her out next to Rowlands’s car. She hoped
he had used her distraction to get himself off the property but there wasn’t much else she could do.

She was starting to tire as she hurled herself into the second alley, risking a look over her shoulder but there was no one there and she couldn’t hear footsteps. Instead of slowing, she
upped her pace, sprinting for the car while reaching into her pocket for the key. As her fingers closed around the fob, remote central locking seemed like the greatest invention ever. Without
breaking stride, she pressed the button and saw the vehicle’s indicator lights flash twice. Jessica grabbed the handle, opened it and hurled herself onto the back seat.

She lay in the foot well barely breathing and not daring to move. It seemed like hours but it was definitely still dark when there was a tap on the window. For a moment, Jessica froze, expecting
to look up and see one of the officers peering in. Instead, it was a weary-looking Dave offering a thin smile as their eyes met. She sat up and pressed the button to unlock the door again, allowing
him to slide into the driver’s seat.

‘I didn’t know you had such short legs,’ Rowlands said, shunting the seat backwards while Jessica climbed into the front and passed him the keys.

‘They were long enough to outrun those two,’ Jessica said. ‘You got out all right, then?’

‘As soon as I heard that crash, I looked out and they were running off towards the road. I watched them around the corner of the house. One of them went after you, the other got on the
radio. As soon as he was facing the other way I legged it. Nice job on the car window by the way.’

‘Thanks, it felt ridiculously good to be honest.’

‘Did you get what you needed?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So you were right about everything?’

‘I think so.’

After seeing the photo, Jessica was as confident as she could be that she was correct. Things had not gone according to plan but at least neither she nor Rowlands was in
trouble. In the list of things she had to do, getting access to the picture was the third toughest, so it was hard for her not to feel too relieved as there was so much more to do.

The next night’s task wasn’t as hard but it did need a degree of setting up. Jessica arranged to meet Dave at the allotments at two in the morning but she arrived half an hour early.
She jumped the fence and made her way across to plot sixty-one, trying to avoid the muddiest parts in order to not leave any clear footprints, just in case. The moon was particularly bright, making
the whole area of land clearly visible, except for where the hedges cast their shadows.

The outside of the plot looked the same as before, with mounds of dirt from the excavation. She approached the door and lifted a set of bolt cutters, squeezing hard and eventually slicing
through the thick metal of the padlock.

Jessica’s dad had been keen on DIY when she was younger and always told her it was worth spending a bit more to get the best-quality tools. She had taken that on board at the hardware
store earlier that day, buying the most expensive set of cutters, hoping the outcome would be this easy.

Unlike the outside, the interior of the shed was a total contrast to how it had been. The floorboards in the middle of the room had been torn up, exposing the pit underneath, the table and chair
removed. Jessica had tried to think of a better place than this for her final confrontation but something about this cramped room seemed right.

Rowlands soon arrived with the items they needed and together they fixed the shed as best they could. It was never going to look as it did before but at least they managed to sort out a solid
floor with a combination of the wood Rowlands had brought and the broken floorboards which had been shunted into a corner.

As they left the shed before sunrise, Jessica put on a new padlock and handed Rowlands one of the keys.

Her penultimate task didn’t involve breaking the law but it did call for her to be at her persuasive best. She visited Lucy Martin at a time when she knew the woman would be on her own and
asked for Annabel’s contact details on trust alone. The woman was reluctant to pass on the information, especially as Jessica insisted she couldn’t tell her why she needed it.
Ultimately, as silly as it might have seemed to an outsider, the bond they had made over a mug of tea was enough to swing it.

Jessica phoned in sick the next day, taking the train to London to meet Lucy’s estranged daughter. Annabel was an essential part of Jessica’s plan, but the years apart from her
mother and the bitterness she felt made her reluctant even to listen to Jessica’s idea, let alone help. She kept repeating that she had a new life – she was twenty-seven with a career,
a boyfriend and a flat. Everything that happened up north when she was a child felt as if it had occurred in a different lifetime.

Annabel’s passion for making the most of the life she had created for herself made Jessica wonder if she was doing the right thing. As she watched the woman drink her cappuccino, she saw
herself, albeit a little younger. Annabel was a person who had left home and gone to find out what a big city could hold. Jessica wondered whether finding out the truth was worth it, but then made
a decision she knew she would have to live with for a long time.

Her recent activity involved her breaking and entering twice, committing a burglary and damaging public property. In the next few days she would have to lie and become a thief. As Jessica broke
Annabel’s heart by telling her that over half her life had been a lie, there was no doubt in her mind what the greatest crime from that list was.

Without Adam to listen to her, Jessica wasn’t sure she would have been able to go through with everything. He met her off the late train at Piccadilly Station.
‘Your chariot awaits,’ he declared with a smile. Jessica immediately burst into tears and told him how she had destroyed a young woman’s life. He didn’t say very much,
listening without judging.

After the conversation with Annabel, it was too late for Jessica to retreat from what she had set in motion. In a quiet moment at the station, she told Rowlands that everything was almost in
place. She made the phone call to set up the final meeting and, after their shift was over, Jessica and Rowlands made their way to Deborah Sturgess’s house.

The woman welcomed them in, seemingly unaffected by everything that had been in the news about her husband. Jessica noticed that her roots had recently been bleached so that she no longer
appeared to be greying. Accepting the offer of a hot drink, they were left alone in the living room while she went off to the kitchen.

As soon as the door closed, Jessica sprung to her feet and stepped across to a side table. ‘Can you see it?’ she hissed.

Rowlands was looking from side to side but shook his head. ‘No. Where do you keep yours?’

‘In my pocket.’

‘Yeah, but you’re not really a girl, are you – she must have a bag or something.’

Jessica ignored the first half of the constable’s remark. ‘All right, I’ve got an idea. When she gets back, keep hold of your mug but only take the odd sip.’

Rowlands looked at her suspiciously. ‘What are you going to do?’ Jessica had no intention of answering but Deborah entered the room shortly after with three mugs of tea. She placed
them on a table and then settled into a reclining seat facing them. Rowlands picked up his mug and took a small sip.

‘How can I help you?’ Deborah asked.

Jessica tried to sound as empathetic as she could. ‘We’re just here to make sure you’re okay after … everything.’

Deborah nodded. ‘Oh, right. Thanks for coming. It’s been hard with the neighbours. Some of our old friends have been back in contact and said they couldn’t believe it about
what had happened. You think you know someone …’

Jessica didn’t want it to sound like an interrogation. ‘How long ago did you divorce?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.

‘Around six years.’

‘It must be hard for you?’

Deborah was clearly revelling in the gentle questioning. She put her feet up on the seat, cradling her mug in the same way Rowlands was doing. ‘I just can’t understand why he would
do something like that.’

Jessica slipped her hand into her pocket as she listened to the woman’s response. It was so guarded, so
perfect
, the words were barely worth paying attention to. In the brief
silence after Deborah had finished speaking, a cheery pop song begun playing from somewhere outside the room. For a moment, the woman looked confused, then she hopped up, returning her mug to the
table. ‘Sorry, that’s my phone,’ she said, going quickly out to the hallway, returning moments later with a puzzled look on her face, holding the phone in the air. ‘Um,
it’s you …’ she said.

Jessica put her hand in her pocket and took out her phone, swiping her fingers across the screen with a puzzled look on her face. ‘Sorry, I must have left it unlocked and called by
accident. It’s not the first time, I once called my mum fifteen times in an hour when I was in the cinema. She told me she would pick it up and hear a rustling noise, then she’d hang up
but it would ring again two minutes later.’

Jessica kept hold of her phone as Deborah returned to the armchair, putting hers on the armrest. Jessica hadn’t known if her number had been stored on the other woman’s phone but it
really didn’t matter.

‘I’m not great with technology either,’ the woman said, pointing towards the phone. ‘I’m not sure of half the things it can do.’

Jessica nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’m like that too. I only found out mine could do this a few days ago.’ She turned the phone around so the screen was facing Deborah and
swiped her hand across the front wildly, swinging her elbow back and knocking into Rowlands’s hand. The tea he was holding cascaded over the top of the mug, spilling into his lap. Dave yelped
and jumped up, dripping more of the liquid onto the floor.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Jessica exclaimed but Deborah was already on her feet.

‘Quick, quick, through here,’ she said, beckoning the constable towards her as she rushed out.

With the room empty, Jessica reached across and snatched the woman’s phone from the armrest. She pulled the back compartment off, forcing her nails into the small gap and taking the
battery out to ensure it couldn’t ring before putting everything in her other pocket.

Jessica walked through to the kitchen where she saw Deborah dabbing at Dave’s crotch in a way that would have been hilarious, if what she had just done hadn’t been so serious.

Jessica held her own phone in the air. ‘We’ve got to go,’ she said.

Deborah glanced up and nodded at Jessica. If she was suspicious, she did not show it. ‘Are you going to be all right?’ she asked the constable.

Dave grimaced. ‘I’ll be fine.’

Jessica raised the phone higher. ‘Come on, they said it’s urgent.’ She turned to Deborah. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Sturgess, something’s come up. We’ll come back
another time.’ The woman nodded and led them back to the front door before saying goodbye.

Rowlands didn’t say a word until they were back in his car with the doors closed. ‘Did you get the phone?’ he asked as he started the engine.

‘Yes.’

‘Couldn’t you have thought of something better than that? You could have asked her to show you where the toilet was or something, then I could have grabbed it.’

‘Sorry. That would probably have worked too.’

The constable indicated and pulled out onto the road. ‘Why couldn’t I spill tea in your lap, then grab the phone?’

‘Because if either of us was going to be touched up by a middle-aged woman, I’d rather it was you.’

Dave laughed but Jessica could tell there was no real amusement in it. He changed his tone. ‘Are we ready?’ he asked seriously. Jessica took the pieces of Deborah’s phone and
put it back together, waiting for it to start up. When it arrived at the home screen, she pressed the button to bring up the contacts list.

‘Yeah, we’re ready,’ she said, pointing at one name but knowing her colleague was watching the road.

‘Isn’t she going to realise you took her phone?’

‘I don’t know and I don’t care. She’ll probably think she’s lost it somewhere first of all. By the time she’s checked through the house and called it a few
times, I’ll have used it.’

‘Tonight?’

‘Tonight.’

Over the course of her life, Jessica had taught herself not to be nervous. It was a hard thing to describe to other people because apprehension was such a natural emotion. No
one would have believed it now but as a twelve-year-old, she was a good athlete. She never practised but could run fast and beat other people with little effort at all. Her dad loved coming to
school events and watching her win but, even though she knew she was the best runner, her nerves would become too much for her. She would eye her competitors and wonder what might happen if she
tripped, or if one of them got a better start than she did.

Eventually she taught herself to lock the emotions away. Instead of thinking of what might go wrong, Jessica started every race not caring if anything went awry. Though she had grown out of
sports, that ability to ignore any nerves was something that had stayed with her.

But now, as she sat in a fold-up chair in Benjamin’s shed, she felt the type of anxiety building she had rarely experienced in over twenty years. In the course of her career, she had had
amazing highs and the worst of lows. Nothing compared to the way she had made a mess of things with Adam the first time around and, as she stared at the patched-up floor, Jessica thought of him
waiting at home for her. He was the man who pretty much forgave her anything and was quite happy to support her no matter what the consequences were. She wasn’t sure she had forgiven herself
for everything that happened with him initially but the fact he had smiled and said it was okay amazed her every morning she woke up next to him.