I watched people gathering for the vigil from the walkway, bundled up in my coat and mittens. I heard the door to number seven open behind me and Sandy appeared. She was wearing only a thin T-shirt and some leggings and her bare feet were in slip-on plastic mules, the sort of thing you might wear round the pool on holiday.
‘Sandy,’ I said, ‘you need a jumper on and a coat. It’s chilly out.’
Her arms were stick-thin and covered in old scars, which made me feel a bit funny looking at them. There was an awful lot I didn’t know about her.
‘Jodie said they were going to have a vigil for Mina down there. She said I should think about going.’ She joined me, looking over the edge, leaning on the concrete parapet.
‘There’s already quite a crowd.’
She sniffed. ‘Nobody will want me there, Kath. I’m public enemy number one. The world’s worst mother.’
‘It might feel like that, Sandy, but it’s just the press whipping things up. Most people, normal people, will feel for you. It’s any parent’s worst nightmare.’ She folded her skinny arms across her chest, which didn’t stop her shivering. I’d judged her as much as the next person, but what I said was true, too – I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Losing a child is just so unimaginably awful. ‘You can light a little candle, add your prayers to everyone else’s.’
‘It’s not going to bring her back, though, is it? Nothing’s going to bring her back.’
My blood ran a little colder in my veins. ‘Why do you say that? Everyone’s looking, Sandy. You mustn’t give up hope.’
‘It’s been two days now. She’s not coming back. There’s no reward or anything.’
Again, the reward thing. She seemed strangely calm and clear-sighted. If I hadn’t heard her with my own ears, I wouldn’t have believed it.
I had no idea what to say. Was I in the presence of evil or just an inadequate young woman who became a mum too soon? I guess I was gaping like a goldfish because she looked at me and said, ‘I’ve shocked you, haven’t I? Well, sorry about that, but I’m just being realistic. All this hope and prayer. I can’t do it. It would be like pretending and I can’t.’
‘Sandy—’ I said, but at that moment I heard movement behind us and Jodie came out of number seven. She was holding Sandy’s parka.
‘Thought you might need this,’ she said.
‘Oh, ta.’ Jodie put the coat on. ‘I was thinking I might go out somewhere. It’s doing my head in stuck in that flat.’
Jodie glanced at me. ‘Sure, where are you thinking?’
Sandy shook her head. ‘Dunno. Just out. Go for a walk or something.’
My lips pursed. I couldn’t help it.
‘You can go anywhere you like, Sandy, as long as we can contact you in case there’s news. Don’t you think it might be a good idea to go to the vigil, though? You don’t have to make a speech, just spend a few minutes there quietly.’
Sandy sighed. ‘I can’t face it.’ She sounded like a sulky teenager. The internet had told me she was twenty-seven, but honestly, she seemed an awful lot younger. Immature.
She sent me a look of appeal, wanted me to back her up.
‘Sandy was just saying that she would find it difficult to be at the vigil.’ I was choosing my words carefully. ‘It’s a lot of pressure.’
That got a rare, grateful smile. ‘I’d go with you, though, Sandy, and Kath, too – wouldn’t you, Kath?’
Why can’t I say ‘no’ to people? It’s always been a problem. ‘Yes, of course,’ I said, automatically, even though I’d just about had enough of things for one day. I’d got a lot to think about and I needed to put my poor old legs up.
Sandy caved, and so I locked up the flat and off we went, down the stairs again and out into the yard. Although there were more people there than for the press conference, it was quieter, almost eerie. People looked at Sandy as we made our way to the front past a little field of candles and flowers, but nobody shouted out, thank God, although there were cameras trained on us, clicking away.
We stood near the low wall and watched as people came forward and lit candles. All those people there and I hardly recognised anyone. I was scanning around for a friendly face when I spotted Den, from the shop. He was heading our way, with his mum and dad next to him and that’s when it all started kicking off.
A great tall slab of a man – one of the organisers of yesterday’s search party – stepped in front of them and seemed to barge Tony. Voices were raised and there was a ripple effect in the crowd, people being pushed backwards and forwards.
Everyone was looking now. Jodie jumped onto the wall, so she could see what was going on, but she didn’t dive in. I got a glimpse of Linda’s face through a gap and didn’t hesitate. I left Sandy by the wall and plunged into the crowd.
It didn’t take me long to get close. I’d never have done this when I was younger, but when you get into your eighties, I think you stop caring so much about what people think of you. I took as deep a breath as I can manage these days and bellowed as loud as I could, ‘That’s enough of that. Pack it in!’
Guess what? It worked. Tony and the big guy with the high-vis jacket on both stopped and looked at me. I told them to have some respect. The big guy told Tony that he wasn’t welcome but he backed off when I gave him a little tap with my walking stick. Tony, Den and Linda wisely decided not to push things and left and that was that. A nasty little incident which could have exploded was over and I felt – what do they say these days? – epic!
I took myself back to Sandy and there were people smiling at me and there was a little ripple of applause. I tried to shush people, because that’s not what we were there for, after all. We stood together, looking at the candles and flowers and messages from people and then Sandy said, ‘I’ve had enough. I’m going back up.’
‘Not for a walk?’ I said, unable to keep a touch of sarcasm in my voice. She didn’t appear to notice.
‘Nah, Jodie’s convinced me it wouldn’t be a good look. Are you coming? We could, I dunno, watch some telly or something.’
‘I’ll stay for a little while, then I think it’s an early night for me.’
‘Suit yourself,’ she said and walked towards the stairs.
I stayed at the vigil for longer than I expected. They started singing – hymns and pop songs – and I found myself joining in. It felt good to be part of something communal, gentle and positive. When things started to break up, I was approached by that lovely reporter from the local news, the one with fifty smart coats in primary colours. Today’s was bright red with rather nice military-style buttons.
‘Can we talk to you for a minute?’
‘Of course.’
She told me to say my name and age into the camera, like a sort of screen test. Then she started talking. I wasn’t sure if I was being interviewed or if this was just a chat.
‘We saw you step in just now to defuse a sticky situation. Why did you do that?’
Daft question, if you ask me, but I didn’t want to make her look stupid so I did my best to answer. ‘We’re here for Mina. It’s all about her. I just wanted people to calm things down and focus on that.’
‘I think a lot of people will admire you for that.’
I couldn’t help feeling a little proud. I mean, you would, wouldn’t you? ‘I’m just doing what I can.’
‘You live here, in this block?’
‘That’s right, love. Next door to Mina and her mum.’
‘This must be very upsetting. What are they like?’
She might be a bit dim, but she had such a nice way about her. So easy to talk to.
‘Well, you know how it is with most kids. They’re noisy, charge about. Mina’s not like that. She’s very quiet. She’s a good girl. Her mum’s working a lot and I know how hard that is, so I sort of look out for Mina. Keep an eye on her.’
‘But you didn’t notice when she didn’t come home on Wednesday?’
‘I didn’t hear her on Wednesday and I was worried. I thought she might be with friends or something. But I got really worried when she didn’t come home on Thursday. That when I went looking for her.’
‘You went out looking? How old are you, Kath?’
I didn’t know what that had to do with things. ‘I’m eighty-five.’
‘That’s marvellous. Did you see anything at all?’
‘I found a scrunchie, you know, a hair thing.’ I stopped, not sure if I should mention where I found it. Things were already pretty inflamed.
‘Where was that?’
Like I said, she was so easy to talk to. It just seemed natural to tell her. I didn’t mean to make anything worse for Den and his family. ‘In the café.’
‘So you’re quite the Miss Marple, aren’t you?’
‘I wouldn’t say that. Like everyone round here, I just want that little girl back safe and sound, and I’m not going to stop until she is.’
We chatted for a little longer, then she wrapped things up with a ‘Thank you, Kath. God bless.’ What a lovely woman. You can’t always judge a book by its cover, or a TV presenter by their coat. I could tell that this wasn’t just a job to her – she really cared.
The yard was almost empty now. The rest of the press people had gone and there were just one or two folks still looking at the candles. The group of lads was hanging around by one of the benches. I could see them out of the corner of my eye.
I headed into Nelson House and climbed the stairs slowly. Would they never fix that lift? I took a breather at the top and looked out over the yard, just as a police van and two cars pulled into the entrance. A dozen or so officers piled out of the van and surrounded the lads. They targeted two of them, pulling them away from their mates and quickly bundling them into separate cars. And just like that, they were gone. The whole thing had taken a couple of minutes.
Officers stayed talking to the ones who were left for a minute, then they, too, left. I watched as the yard emptied and felt a little surge of satisfaction – a word here, a word there, it was surprising how much good you could do.