30

Sarah parked in a suburban cul-de-sac populated by 1930s semis. Children were playing on bikes in the turning circle at the end of the street.

When Katherine answered the door, Sarah realized that, in spite of her bad-tempered attitude on the phone earlier – I’ve only just talked to that other woman from the murder squad! – she had still somehow persisted in imagining Tania’s friend as she had been in 1987. Claire Mills had shown her a photo of the two girls, side by side in school uniform. They were both smiling as if sharing the same joke, unconsciously sexy in their schoolgirl knowing-unknowing way – long hair, ties loose at the neck, arms flung round each other’s shoulders, hips out to the side. But here was a middle-aged woman, older than Sarah herself. She wore jogging pants and a sleeveless T-shirt and had the hard-muscled calves of someone who had remained fit way beyond her youth. Her highlighted blonde hair revealed strands of grey. There were deep lines at her mouth and eyes.

She didn’t say even hello; instead just ‘You’re later than you said you’d be.’

Sarah slipped her warrant card back into her pocket. ‘I’m really sorry. Do you want to reschedule?’

Katherine threw up her hands in exasperation. ‘Reschedule?’ She turned away with a heavy sigh and led Sarah into the house.

Sarah followed her into the sitting room and watched her moving rapidly around, scooping up objects that littered the floor and the furniture – swimming goggles, sweet wrappers, a football.

‘I tell them to put this stuff away, but do they listen?’

She hadn’t offered to make tea, hadn’t offered a seat. She paused from sorting a pile of things under the television, talking quickly as she did so.

‘This is the weekend my ex has the kids. It’s the only time I get to myself. Did you come to ask me anything specific?’

Sarah had hoped to get something perhaps that others hadn’t been able to, but everything Katherine did seemed designed to prevent her making any connection. The only thing was to plunge straight in. ‘You and Tania had agreed to meet up—’

Katherine interrupted. ‘I’ve explained this, feels like a hundred times.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Tania was unreliable.’

‘Unreliable?’

‘You know teenage girls – say they’re going to do one thing and then don’t turn up. We didn’t have mobile phones in those days.’

‘And you didn’t think to call her home, find out what was going on?’

‘Call her mum? Who does that?’

Sarah didn’t sail on, as Katherine’s tone suggested she should, but rather paused to weigh those words. Would no teenager have even considered picking up the phone to find out where her friend was?

‘I think at that age if one of my friends hadn’t turned up, I would probably have called her family.’

Katherine looked at her and scratched the back of her head. ‘Goody two-shoes, were you?’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Look, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to get her into trouble.’

‘Why would she be in trouble?’

‘If Tania hadn’t come to me, that meant she was probably up to stuff.’

‘Stuff? What stuff?’

‘Oh come on! All teenagers get up to stuff.’

Here was the information that had to be unpicked, insisted on.

‘But Tania wasn’t all teenagers. She was one of the rare ones who seems to have come to harm. That’s why I’m trying to find out any detail, any piece of information you might have – even if you don’t know you have it – that might help us to find out what happened to her. If she was up to stuff, then I need to know what that stuff was. That’s why I’m asking you these questions.’

‘And I’m answering. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just I’ve already been asked all this. I really don’t think I can help you.’

Sarah attempted a smile. ‘So, what kind of stuff was she up to?’

Katherine shrugged. ‘I don’t know. We weren’t as close as we had been. She’d stopped telling me what was going on.’

‘Had you fallen out?’

‘Not really. You know how teenage girls are. I’ve got one myself: always in and out with her friends. I lose track. You not got kids?’

There was a look that went with the question, a suggestion that Katherine had guessed that Sarah certainly didn’t have kids.

Sarah said, ‘So you were still friends, yes? Best friends. Confided in each other?’

Katherine shrugged. ‘I s’pose so.’

‘You knew, for example, her dad was having an affair?’

‘Oh yes, she told me about that.’

So, still close enough to talk about personal things. ‘Were you aware of Tania being in any sort of relationship?’

‘Everything you’re asking me, I’ve already been asked. Have you not read the files?’

Of course she’d read the files, but she’d wanted to hear the answers first hand. She nodded, waiting for Katherine to reply.

‘There was no boyfriend I knew of,’ Katherine said thinly.

‘And what about you?’

‘What about me?’

The persistent difficulty of asking the questions was interesting in itself.

‘Did you have a boyfriend?’

Katherine made eye contact, hesitated momentarily, then said, ‘No, I didn’t. I was fifteen. Anything else?’

‘Just one other thing? Your music teacher, Mr Stephenson . . .’ She felt Katherine’s eyes on her and searched for the words. ‘Was he around a lot? I mean more than you’d expect in a teacher?’

‘That’s an odd question.’

‘Still, was he?’

Katherine studied her. ‘Of course we saw a lot of him. We were both in the orchestra, Tania and me. Why do you want to know about Mr Stephenson?’

‘It’s just a line of inquiry. Did you ever go in his car?’

‘I can’t really remember. Look, Mr Stephenson wasn’t a nice man—’

‘Oh, he wasn’t? Could you tell me about that?’

‘He was nasty. A bully . . . But I’m sure he didn’t kill Tania, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘That’s interesting. How can you be sure?’

Sarah noticed something, a stiffening perhaps that was almost instantly interrupted by Katherine relaxing and frowning. She sat on the sofa. ‘Of course I can’t be sure. But I can’t see him killing. That’s too much.’

‘Too much?’

Katherine shrugged.

Sarah said, ‘This bullying?’

Katherine shook her head. ‘He was just a horrid man.’ She stood with an air almost of surprise at having found herself sitting at all. ‘Have you got any more questions? I’m hoping to go for a swim.’

Standing in the hallway by the open front door, Katherine apologized.

‘I’m sorry. If I was rude, I mean.’

Sarah waved her hand. ‘Please, don’t worry.’ But she slowed her exit, hoping for a breach in Katherine’s guardedness. What she heard was not really information, but rather a little nervous outburst.

‘I seem to live my life in a hurry!’

Sarah waited.

‘I’ve got into the habit of doing things at top speed since my useless husband left me . . . OK, it’s not only that. Tania was a long time ago and I prefer not to think about it.’ Her face gave a little twitch. ‘So, that’s probably what made me rude.’ She looked at Sarah directly. ‘But I do pray this new lead, whatever it is, will go somewhere; that you’ll be able to tell me what happened. Even if Tania’s dead. I’d like to have a grave I could visit. Even that would mean a lot to me.’

Sarah hesitated. She was so tempted to ask her outright. This bullying . . . But she was getting ahead of herself. She’d tried, given lots of opportunities. Any suggestion of what she was beginning to allow herself to suspect, would contaminate the evidence. If it was going to come, then it needed to come from Katherine, unprompted. But the moment was already gone. The breach had closed. Katherine gave another one of those smiles that never touched her eyes.

‘So,’ she said. ‘Is there anything else?’

‘Not that I can think of right now. Thank you.’ Sarah made herself stay a second more, even though she could feel the sheer force of Katherine’s will pushing her out of the door. ‘But look, I made a mistake. Coming here at such short notice. I’m sorry about that.’ She offered her card. ‘I’d like you to think you could talk to me. About anything. If you think of something, would you give me a call?’