sure she found time for. Work (she was a buyer for a light bulb manufacturer), her twin boys, exercise, and her husband, Trevor: these were her priorities and she took care of them all. It was made easier by the fact that Trevor, a triathlete plumber, was more or less the perfect husband. He insisted that they go out as a couple for dinner once a month, a rule he had not broken even when the twins were only a month old, scooping Gill out of the door between feeds for a rapid fire meal at a sushi restaurant. Add to this his habit of bringing home flowers every Friday – so that his sons would learn good habits when it came to looking after their mum – and his refusal to let her pay for anything when they were out, which was ridiculous as Gill earned as much as him and they shared a bank account, and he was pretty much as good as it got. He was old-fashioned, and Gill teased him for it, but he was also charming and romantic and Gill adored him.
‘She’s out there,’ Julia said. ‘My little girl. Somewhere in the world. I can’t tell you how it feels to know that she might be suffering.’
‘I can’t imagine,’ Gill said. ‘I don’t want to. But she’ll come back, Julia. You have to keep believing that.’
‘And it was my fault,’ Julia said. ‘If I hadn’t been late—’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Gill said. ‘It isn’t. It was a mistake. You couldn’t have known this would happen. We all make mistakes, Julia.’
‘I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking if only. If only I’d charged my phone. If only I’d left the meeting earlier. I could have stopped this. It’s hard to live with that knowledge.’
‘I bet it is,’ Gill said. ‘But that’s not the same as it being your fault. You aren’t responsible for the actions of whatever sick bastard took your daughter. There are always if onlys, Julia, always. But just remember: this is not your fault.’
Gill believed it, Julia could see. The problem was that she found it hard to agree.
‘And now,’ Gill continued, ‘you have a chance to do something to help fix it. Come on. Let’s get ready for this press conference.’
At the police station, Julia and Brian followed DI Wynne into an office. She motioned for them to sit down.
‘Let me give you an update,’ she said. ‘Although I’m afraid that there isn’t all that much to say.’ She sat forward, her arms folded, her elbows resting on her desk. It was spotless, any paperwork filed away. ‘We had officers out all night, as well as the dog teams. I have to say that they are pretty effective at picking up a scent, but there was nothing.’
‘What next?’ Brian asked.
‘We keep looking. Something might show up – some clothing, a shoe, a schoolbook. And … ’ she paused, and swallowed, ‘we deployed the dive teams this morning. They’re searching local waterways. Canals, ponds, rivers.’
Julia felt light-headed, the edges of her vision dissolving into stars. She blinked, trying to dismiss the image of a small, muddied corpse being dragged from a silted canal. She swayed, and gripped the edge of her chair for support.
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