‘No.’ Sarah stopped her. ‘I have to go and pick Ollie up from my friend’s, so I’d prefer to talk in the car, if that’s okay with you.’
‘Fine,’ Laura agreed, her forehead knitting into a frown. ‘Which friend?’ she asked.
None of your bloody business. ‘Someone I’ve known since college,’ Sarah provided vaguely, and led the way to her car.
Once in the passenger seat, Laura turned to her. ‘Is everything all right?’ Her worried eyes skittered over Sarah’s face. ‘Ollie’s okay isn’t he?’
‘Yes, considering …’ Sarah said, and left it hanging.
‘Has something happened? You look a bit stressed.’
‘I am. My house was trashed last night,’ she announced, studying the other woman carefully.
Laura’s eyes sprang wide. ‘Oh my God, Sarah. I had no idea. Was anything taken? Is Ollie—’
‘Ollie’s fine,’ Sarah assured her again, growing irritated. Laura’s every other sentence seemed to be about Ollie. ‘There was nothing much taken, apart from the whale toy you gave him. It appears to have been done out of maliciousness, nothing more.’
‘Mr Whale …’ Laura’s gaze grew troubled. ‘But that’s terrible,’ she said, her eyes flickering down. ‘Why would someone do that? I’m so sorry, Sarah. That must have been awful for you. Are you all right? Does Joe know?’
‘Joe knows,’ Sarah confirmed. She was wondering whether all this was an act, but then, seeing the tears welling in the other woman’s eyes, she thought she would have to be a bloody good actor. ‘He stayed over. Ollie felt more secure with him there.’
Laura nodded. ‘Yes, of course he would,’ she said. ‘If there’s anything I can do to help, anything at all, just let me know. I could have Ollie while you—’
‘No,’ Sarah said, more forcefully than she’d intended. She didn’t want to put her on the defensive before she’d started. ‘I prefer him to be with me,’ she added. ‘Can I ask you something, though?’ she went on before Laura could steer the conversation back to her son yet again.
‘Anything,’ Laura said, her face a mixture of sympathy and innocence. Was she innocent? Guilty of nothing but suffering the legacy of a horrific time in her own life?
‘Have you used Steve’s keys to access my house?’ Sarah said it bluntly.
‘What?’ Laura laughed, her expression now one of astonishment.
‘The wallpaper in Ollie’s room,’ Sarah went on determinedly, ‘it’s the same as the wallpaper in his bedroom at home. Steve doesn’t have any photos, so how could you have seen it unless you’d been in his bedroom?’
Laura stared at her, stunned. ‘You have photos,’ she pointed out incredulously. ‘You showed me photos – when we first met at the pub. I chose that paper precisely because you had. I wanted Ollie to feel at home when he came to stay. I wanted him to be surrounded by familiar things. Wouldn’t you?’
Shit. Sarah cursed silently. She did have photos of Ollie in his bedroom on her phone and she had shown Laura them. But had Laura really studied them enough to take in so much detail? ‘His bunny …’ She gathered herself. She had to ask, even if the woman ended up hating her. She would never stop worrying about it otherwise. ‘How did his ear come to be cut off?’
Laura’s gaze flickered down again. ‘You really have a problem with me, don’t you?’ she said, smiling sadly.
‘I have a problem with why you told me it was sitting on his toy box and all the while it was stuffed inside it with its bloody ear chopped off,’ Sarah replied angrily. It wasn’t her who should be answering questions here.
‘So it was you who took it,’ Laura said quietly, somehow managing to turn the tables. ‘I thought my mother had. She’s such a sssspite … vicious cow.’
Sarah noted the stammer and wasn’t sure whether to feel sorry for her, ashamed that she’d obviously made her so stressed, or suspicious. ‘I did say I wanted it,’ she offered, by way of lame defence for doing what she’d just accused Laura of: snooping around her home.
‘Lucas cut the ear off,’ Laura said after a loaded pause.
‘Lucas?’ Sarah was disbelieving. How was she to verify that? March around to Laura’s neighbour’s house and demand to interrogate her child?
‘I was keeping an eye on him while his mother took her dog to the vet,’ Laura went on. ‘I took Ollie with me, naturally. He had Bunny with him. Lucas’s mum had left scissors on the coffee table. I didn’t see Lucas pick them up. I thought I’d averted a crisis managing to grab them before he hurt himself. Apparently I didn’t.’
Oh no. Sarah closed her eyes. She’d done it again.
‘I should have told you,’ Laura added dejectedly. ‘I was going to sew it back on, but …’
‘He wasn’t there,’ Sarah finished, guilt weighing heavily in her chest. ‘I’m sorry,’ she added, not sure what else to say.
‘It’s okay. You were suspicious. I understand,’ Laura offered magnanimously, ‘especially with my mother turning up to spoil everything the way she does. God, wouldn’t she just love this.’
Sarah glanced at her, her guilt multiplying tenfold as she saw a slow tear roll down her cheek. ‘Why is she so horrible to you?’ she asked.
Laura turned to gaze out of the window. ‘Because she’s frightened,’ she said.
‘Of?’ Sarah urged her.
‘Me,’ she said simply.
Forty-Six
Sherry
‘Do you not realise she might tell him everything?’ Sherry asked irritably as she followed Grant around the stables. He’d been questioning her again, wondering why she insisted on interfering in Laura’s relationships, as if he didn’t know.
‘Tell him what?’ Grant asked patiently. ‘She doesn’t remember what happened that night. She can’t tell what she doesn’t know, can she? There’s nothing she can say that won’t sound highly implausible given her condition. The case is closed. As far as the police are concerned, Jacob went missing. You need to move on, Sherry. It’s dead and buried,’ he said, causing her heart to constrict painfully.
‘We can’t guarantee she won’t recall something,’ she retaliated, as he continued around the stables, lifting his saddle and bridle from the hooks in the tack room, refusing to acknowledge her concerns. ‘There’s always the possibility that something might trigger her memories,’ she went on. ‘That she might confide in this latest man she’s involved with. Doesn’t it worry you that she chooses to have relationships with men who have children uncannily like him? She can’t move on. She’s trying to hold onto him, don’t you see; to keep him alive? She’s reliving her life with him. She’s desperate to know what happened to him.’
Sighing, Grant turned away, carrying his riding gear across to his beloved horse, a thoroughbred Arabian – a flighty, temperamental mare. Sherry was sure he thought more of it than he did her. ‘Why can’t you just drop it?’ he asked, preparing to saddle up. ‘Leave the girl alone?’