96. Before

‘Your father seems to have had a long and fulfilling life. It would be a shame if it were to come to an end so abruptly.' Theo pulled a face full of regret as he slid his shirt back down.

A gun? In Cornwall?

I remembered the gun in the school weapons amnesty – a school so different to PES it was laughable they were both educational institutions – and my conversation with the policeman about how a child could possibly get hold of one in this country. I'd thought we were safe here, in the UK.

He had smiled at me. This wasn't America, he had said. We were still, by and large, safe from guns. But it wasn't impossible to get hold of one. Not when you figured in money and corruption, greed and desperation.

My mind was working too slowly. I needed to figure out what to do, but I couldn't stop thinking about the gun.

‘Hmm?' Theo said, still smiling.

There were cameras, but I didn't doubt that he'd disabled them.

Where was God now? Say something. ‘You aren't going to kill anyone.'

He laughed. ‘Maybe I've never killed anyone, but who's to say I won't?' His cheeks flushed – was he aroused? His grin widened. ‘Or maybe I've killed before. Maybe, if you look at the small print, it's part of my job description.' He shrugged. ‘You just don't know what you don't know.'

‘Where are the girls?'

‘Which ones?'

A thrill of fear rushed over me. This was the man who Jenna couldn't figure out if she loved or feared and hated, all the while trying to ignore her love for Rose. I could see it now. From afar, he had just seemed like every other slick and shallow PR brat. Up close he had charisma. But surely she could see through that?

I realised he thought I'd kidnapped the girls, that I'd had the tape, that whatever Lydia had done at Trevethan was down to me. But he had found Jenna and Rose here, probably asleep on the sofa, not restrained, not particularly pleased to see him, and then what? They hadn't told him everything or he wouldn't still think this was all me.

Where were they?

His car bonnet had still been warm. Were they in the trunk? That's where the thud had come from, wasn't it?

But why would he have put them in there?

Because they'd refused to speak and he'd hurt them and needed to hide them, or… or was I mad and he had just given them the bus fare home?

God, I didn't want any more harm to come to those girls. But, more than anything, I just wanted this nasty young man gone.

I got out my phone and handed it over. ‘Lydia's the one who had the tape. She only sent it to me a few hours ago. I don't have any more copies.'

‘Sure,' he said, smiling. He took the phone. ‘It's on here?'

I nodded. ‘Text message. From an unknown number. But it's Lydia.'

He opened it and his eyebrows raised as he realised what I'd just said was true. He tapped a few times and slipped the phone in his pocket. ‘Just to be safe,' he said. He leant back on the counter, careful to keep his hands in front of him. ‘So, you didn't take Jenna and Rose,' he said.

I shrugged. ‘They came here. I said they could stay.'

‘So, when I leave, are you going to call the police?'

I took a gamble. ‘I'm afraid I already called them.'

His jaw stiffened. ‘When?'

I shrugged. ‘Ten minutes ago?'

He started tapping my phone.

‘You must know, emergency calls don't show up in call history,' I said. I'd learned that watching Casualty.

His cheeks went bright red. He might have been more deranged than me, but he wasn't as good at acting. I could see he had got this way through being spoilt, more than through being damaged.

He seemed to float over to me and suddenly he was too close, pressing a cold muzzle under my jaw.

But he couldn't kill me with the police en route – no time to hide my body.

He sniffed my cheek like I was cocaine. ‘Clever girl,' he said, and then he stalked past and walked out, and I locked the door behind him and drew across the latch.