the parking lot of Malvern Police Station but anger propelled me out of the car and into the building. God knows what the duty sergeant made of me as I flew up to the desk and demanded to speak to someone urgently. My heart’s still pounding and I babble rather than speak, my voice filling the small, beige room. DS Hope doesn’t say a word. Instead she listens intently, her eyes on me, her pen poised over the notepad on her lap.
‘It happened at Greensleeves Garden Centre near Powick,’ I say. ‘Just before closing. The man’s name is Michael Hughes. I don’t know the girl’s surname but her first name is Chloe. I heard her dad shout to her when he picked her up. I followed them home in my car. Her address is 29, Missingham Road. It’s just off the—’
DS Hope raises an eyebrow. ‘You followed the girl home?’
‘Of course. I was worried about her. I thought if I found out where she lived, then I could pass the information on to you.’
‘Why not ask another employee? You just told me you thought she worked there. That she was wearing the same red polo top as the woman on the tills.’
‘The woman on the tills wasn’t there when I left.’ My chest tightens as the lie leaves my mouth, but what else can I say?
DS Hope is looking at me like I’m unhinged. Did I do something weird? Would a normal person not have followed Chloe home?
‘What did you do after you followed her?’
‘I drove straight here.’
‘Right, okay. So, let’s go back to the start.’ DS Hope lays her pen down on her notepad. ‘You were walking around the garden centre and you saw an adult man kissing a teenage girl?’
I try to swallow but my mouth is too dry. Being in this windowless beige room is bringing back memories I’d rather forget and it’s taking all my willpower not to run from the room.
‘Yes, as I said. He went into a summer house. She was already in there, like she was waiting for him. He looked around to see if anyone was watching and then he kissed her.’
‘And what time was this?’
‘Nearly six o’clock.’
‘And this …’ she glances down, ‘Michael Hughes. Does he work at Greensleeves Garden Centre too?’
‘No. He’s got a delivery company. But I think he does some of their deliveries.’
‘You know him then?’
‘I …’
I can’t tell her the truth. I told the duty sergeant that my name was Lou Smith, not Lou Wandsworth. I don’t want to talk about what happened between me and Mike. I just want the police to stop it from happening again.
‘Lou? Are you okay?’ DS Hope sits forward in her seat, her eyes scanning my face.
‘I’m just a bit hot.’ I grab a tissue from the box on the table and wipe it over my forehead. Mike kissing that girl is all my fault. If I’d testified against him, he might have been given a longer sentence. He might still be in jail. I’ve spent the last eighteen years telling myself that what happened was a one-off, that it was because of me. I wouldn’t – couldn’t – let myself believe he’d do that to anyone else.
‘What is it you’re not telling me, Lou?’ DS Hope asks. ‘What’s your relationship with this man?’
‘I haven’t got a relationship with him. I came here to report what looked like grooming. That’s all. I thought it was the right thing to do.’
‘How do you know his name then, and what he does for a living?’
‘Because I’ve used his company for removals before.’ The lies are coming thick and fast now. Why did I think this was a good idea? I didn’t think it through properly. I never should have stepped foot in here.
‘And you recognised him, when you saw him in the summer house?’
‘Yes. Why are you asking me all these questions?’
‘I’m just trying to establish what happened.’ Her gaze doesn’t waver. She doesn’t say anything for several seconds. She’s trying to get me to talk but I’ve said too much already. ‘The thing is, Lou, we need evidence to arrest someone and if there’s something you’re not telling me you’re going to make my job more difficult.’
‘He’s a paedophile. He’s served time for abducting …’ I pause. My heart’s beating so quickly I feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack, ‘… another girl.’
DS Hope raises her eyebrows as she scribbles in her notepad. ‘When was this? Do you know?’
‘A long time ago. Look, I’ve told you everything I know. I was just trying to do the right thing, coming here and telling you what I saw.’
She gives me a lingering look then stands up.
‘All right, Lou. I’ve got enough to go on for now. I’ll be in touch.’
Tuesday 24th April 2007
Wendy stiffens as two young men glance her way as they walk into the café. Her preferred table, a single-seater in the window, was occupied when she came in and she had no choice but to take a four-seater in the corner. It’s a quarter past one and the café is filling up. Sooner or later someone’s going to ask if they can share her table. What if Louise Wandsworth herself took one of the seats opposite her? Wendy’s stomach clenches with a mixture of fear and excitement.
But there’s no sign of her. When Lou came into the café yesterday just after one, she went straight up to the counter and ordered a black coffee, a chicken roll and a tub of fruit salad. Wendy watched discreetly from behind her paperwork as Lou frowned over her mobile phone and picked at her food.
It was the first time she’d seen Lou up close and she was dumbstruck. It reminded her of the evening she’d been having drinks in the Royal Malvern hotel with Angela when Michael Ball had walked in. Wendy had raised a hand, waved and flashed him a smile. Michael Ball didn’t even acknowledge her. Instead his gaze swivelled across the room, to a large, raucous group of lovies by the bar. Wendy was mortified. Angela told her that she wasn’t the first person to mistake a celebrity for a friend but Wendy insisted they leave immediately. It had been the same when she’d first seen Lou – the surprise and the hollowing in her stomach – only that time she’d managed to grip the table rather than thrusting her arm into the air.
When she’d read on Facebook that Lou was going to start a new job at Consol eLearning, she’d immediately checked out the company online. According to the website, they developed eLearning solutions for the public and private sector, whatever that meant. Lou’s friends seemed to be as surprised as Wendy by her proposed move from London to Malvern. There were lots of ridiculously effusive comments begging her not to go and several ‘we’ll
