this is a guy who works for the police, I’m not going to lie that it’s a long shot but he’s helped someone before, and,’ she paused, ‘maybe he can help you too.’
‘Help me with what?’
‘If you really think this woman seems familiar and you really think she may be relevant to this investigation, I need more.’
‘So?’
‘So, this guy is a clinical psychologist, and he specialises in using exposure therapy to provoke the trauma and bring back those crucial memories. He’s cracked a case for us before, and you seem a prime candidate for him.’ She hesitated. ‘I know that it might seem far-fetched but let him try? If Amy has been abducted …’
‘If?’
‘I mean we can’t rule out she may have run away, despite both your protestations.’ She breathed deeply. ‘Listen, our records state your friend committed suicide but some of the official documentation doesn’t stack up.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, talk to him? His name’s Darren Fletcher. He’s good.’ A smile crossed her lips for the first time that day. ‘I think we could do this together.’
‘Do you believe me, then?’
She cleared her throat. ‘I would not be doing my job properly if I didn’t listen to everything you’ve told me today.’ She stood up. ‘I’ve also arranged a liaison officer to take you back home. Her name’s Fiona.’
‘Why do I need a liaison officer? Is she there to keep an eye on me?’
‘No, Sophie,’ she said, ‘she’s there to look after you.’
‘What about Paul? You can’t let him go until you get the truth out of him. Surely, that’s a quicker route than therapy?’ I asked, incredulous. ‘I mean he was there today.’
‘Your ex-husband stands by his statement.’ DI Ward hesitated. ‘He says he was out shopping.’ She looked at me, her gaze imploring. ‘Please, try this guy. He’s good.’
‘Do you get something in return for a referral, is that why you’re so keen?’ Even as I said it, I regretted my words. ‘Sorry, I don’t trust therapists, they don’t listen.’
‘Look at it as a way of finding Amy. We can’t rule anything out.’
She patted my arm awkwardly; it was quickly becoming a familiar gesture. ‘We’ve alerted all forces and border controls.’ I could sense she was struggling, again, with the intimacy of the moment. ‘We’ll find her. It’s just up to you to help us as much as you can.’ I nodded and she added, ‘And Paul, of course.’ She opened the door. ‘Is there someone you can call? Someone to come and be with you? Other than Fiona.’
I shook my head. ‘No one.’
She cocked her head to one side. ‘Anyone, Sophie. You just shouldn’t be by yourself right now.’ She glanced at her notebook. ‘What about Faye?’
‘No,’ I said quickly, ‘she’s too old and frail, I don’t want to worry her.’
‘But if she understands you as well as you say she does, this is probably a good time to contact her. You really need someone.’
I shook my head again, adamant. ‘No, I don’t want to worry her even further.’
‘Even further?’
‘She’s always worrying about me.’ I waved my hand through the air, brushing off the unease I felt in the pit of my stomach. ‘I’ve learnt that it’s easier to talk as Sophie the successful lawyer and mother to a beautiful girl, and not as,’ I paused, furrowed my brow, ‘not as the other side of me.’
DI Ward gave a small shrug. ‘Anyone else?’
‘I guess there’s Oliver.’ I fumbled in my bag for a tissue but the detective beat me to it and took one out of her own pocket. She appeared to have a never-ending supply.
‘It’s clean.’
I smiled gratefully and took it.
‘Who’s Oliver?’
‘Oliver Dyers. He’s a guy, a friend. We were reacquainted recently. I knew him at university. He looked me up a month ago. I guess I needed someone, I didn’t want to be alone any more.’ I blushed. ‘Though, nothing’s happened, so it’s not like that.’
The detective nodded. I could see her mind ticking over. ‘He just reappears out of the blue?’
‘He wouldn’t take Amy,’ I said firmly. ‘He barely sees his own daughter, Annabel. His ex-wife makes it difficult. He knows how hard it is to live without a child.’
‘Why’s he back then?’
‘Because he says he thinks about me all the time.’
She nodded, stayed quiet for a moment before she said, ‘I’ll want to talk to him too.’
A handful of forensics officers had been and gone. Fiona, the Family Liaison Officer, bustled in with two steaming mugs of tea.
‘Here you go, Sophie,’ the FLO said, handing me a mug. ‘Could be just what you need.’
I pulled a face but thanked her. She handed the other to Oliver who had made his way over to the house immediately after hearing the news.
‘Do you need anything else? I’ll be back in the morning, if you’re OK?’ The woman, a petite mousey-haired woman with speckles of grey, stood in the doorway to the living room and waited for my instructions.
‘No, you’ve been great, Fiona. Thank you.’ I smiled appreciatively. At times, in the last few hours, I had wanted to tell everyone to get out of my house and for everything to return to normal. But I knew that normal wasn’t an option any more, besides which, Fiona was only doing her job.
‘Right you are,’ the small woman said, shrugging on a biker jacket. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow morning then. If not before.’ She smiled at us both. ‘You know, if there have been any developments. Don’t forget you’ve got my mobile number if you need me.’
I nodded. ‘Doing anything nice tonight?’ I wasn’t sure why I tried to make small talk.
If she was surprised by my attempt at friendliness, she didn’t show it. ‘I’ve just got to make dinner, wash Damien’s football clothes. That kind of thing.’ She grinned, forgetting herself. ‘A mother’s work is …’ She stopped, flushing beetroot. ‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t think.’
I waved it off. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
She looked at me, unsure of what to say.
‘Really, Fiona,’ I said, ‘it doesn’t matter. You can’t stop living your life because
