Carol-Anne had never been without it. She had tried to clean the bunny in the washing machine last year, but Carol-Anne had sobbed at the prospect. As a result, she’d chosen to handwash the bunny since then, with Carol-Anne attentively supervising the procedure.
Alex made a mental note to ensure she collected the bunny from the team scrutinizing her car. She would give the bunny an extra-careful wash, so she would be fresh and clean for when Carol-Anne returned. Taking a final look around the room at the array of photographs on the wall, Alex tried to focus on her positivity; assuming the worst would only invite negativity into their lives; she had to believe that Carol-Anne would be found, and for the first time since the incident, Alex felt a glimmer of hope.
The sound of knocking at the door indicated that Isla’s call was probably over. Galloping down the stairs, and opening the door, Alex was surprised to see Sophie on the doorstep, holding a cardboard tray of coffee cups, and a bag of fresh doughnuts.
‘Oh good, you’re up,’ Sophie said, smiling awkwardly. ‘I wanted to apologize for last night. You needed a friend and I wasn’t much help. I’m here whenever you want someone to talk to or vent at. Okay? You can call on me at any time of the day, and I’ll be there. It’s the least I can do after what you did for me before. Have you eaten yet? I brought breakfast.’
Alex stepped back and allowed her to enter. ‘Aren’t you working today?’
‘I’m not due in until this afternoon. To be honest I didn’t sleep well last night after what you told me, so I got up and went for a run to clear my head. And then I spotted the bakery on my way back and thought you might need something to keep your energy levels up.’
Alex pulled her into a grateful hug.
‘What was that for?’
‘For not telling me I’m a lousy mother who deserves everything she gets.’
Sophie handed her one of the cups. ‘What kind of friend would I be if I did that?’
Before Alex could reply, Isla appeared on the doorstep.
‘Any news?’ Alex asked hopefully.
Isla gave Sophie a cautionary look. ‘Nothing so far … the team have a number of avenues they are going to be pursuing today, which is positive. DI Trent plans to hold another briefing later this evening, so we should know more then.’
Alex introduced the two women.
‘There’s something I need to talk to you about privately, Alex,’ Isla began, giving Sophie another cautious look.
Sophie gave Alex a quick hug. ‘I’d better get out of your hair anyway. If you need anything – and I mean anything – just call me. I’m meeting Noemi at the gym, but I’m only a phone call away.’
Alex had hoped Sophie would stay, but felt awkward asking; the last thing Sophie needed was a neighbour on the verge of a nervous breakdown, particularly if she’d already made plans with Noemi.
‘DI Trent thinks it would be a good idea to make an early public appeal for information,’ Isla said when they were alone.
‘You want me to go on television?’
Isla shook her head. ‘No, we would handle it in-house at this stage: a formal statement released to various UK media outlets, a copy of Carol-Anne’s picture shared for publication in newspapers and regional news programmes. The thing is: the CCTV footage of the area isn’t great, and while the team will continue to search for any images from the surrounding area at the time Carol-Anne was taken, a public appeal might help identify potential eyewitnesses who either saw the act, or maybe can describe anyone suspicious hanging around the car park.’
‘Great. Okay. Do it,’ Alex said enthusiastically. ‘If it helps bring her back sooner, then go ahead. I’m surprised you’ve even asked for my permission.’
Isla’s nose wrinkled. ‘I have to advise you that there can be repercussions from an appeal of this nature.’
Alex frowned. ‘What kind of repercussions?’
Isla considered her next words carefully. ‘For all the benefits of social media connectivity in situations like this, trolling is still a major issue that’s hard to manage. Even if we don’t name you in the campaign, and only share Carol-Anne’s image and story, nothing stays secret forever, and these things can spread like wildfire.’
‘That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I mean if everyone is talking about Carol-Anne and sharing her picture that can only be good.’
Isla ground her teeth. ‘You need to be prepared for an almighty backlash. Given the nature of what happened yesterday, there are plenty of mothers who will empathize with what has happened, and there will also be plenty who will call you names and deride you for leaving your daughter unsupervised in that car. I’m not judging you, Alex, but others will. So, to that end, our advice is for you to delete, or at least suspend any of your social media accounts: Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, or wherever else you have a digital footprint. Such an appeal is going to thrust you firmly into the spotlight, and once it’s out there, there will be no going back.’
‘I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get her back,’ Alex said firmly. ‘Even if it means I get lynched, we’ve got to try everything.’
Isla nodded her understanding. ‘Okay, well can I ask you to find me a recent picture of Carol-Anne that we can distribute? It should be a full-body shot if possible, and preferably something which captures her essence in your eyes. Whoever has her may be using larger clothes and hats to disguise her appearance, so we need something that would shine through disguises like that. Okay?’
Alex raced up the stairs, bursting back into Carol-Anne’s room and immediately scanning the walls for something suitable. As her eyes danced over the images, she heard a noise that chilled her bones: the unmistakeable sound of a little girl giggling.
The bus, packed full of antisocial children on their way to school, finally dropped Ray at the stop at the end of his road. He already had a cigarette between his lips as he stepped off the vehicle, and it was lit before his second foot hit the pavement. Public transport wasn’t his preferred method of travel, most usually bumming a lift home from Owen, but at least he’d managed to grab ten minutes’ kip before the first of the screaming and chattering groups had got on. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than being a school teacher and being subjected to six continuous hours of enthusiastic disobedience. He’d far rather spend a day sitting outside a suspect’s premises waiting for something to happen; surveillance was boring, yet peaceful.
The air felt fresh this morning, and the only clouds that remained in the bright blue sky were thin and white, offering little threat of the downpour they’d experienced yesterday. The surrounding countryside was now firmly in autumn’s grip and winter was only just around the corner. Piles of wet leaves lined the edge of every kerb, and the puddles on the road had yet to evaporate under the bright sun. A cool breeze offset any warmth of the sun’s rays.
His phone beeped to inform him of a new message.
Are we still on for tonight? I miss you x
Why
