I gesture towards the living room.
‘OK. OK.’ He shoves his hand through his hair again, before rubbing his palm across his mouth, twelve hours’ worth of stubble scratching his skin. ‘Anna, did you tell anyone I wasn’t at the hospital? Did you tell Fran?’
I frown, shaking my head. ‘No, I didn’t get a chance to. As soon as I hung up DI Dove told us we should come back here. Why?’
‘Nothing.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘Just . . . don’t, will you? Don’t say anything just yet. I don’t think Fran would understand . . . I’ll tell her later, when things are . . . you know.’
‘Right.’ I don’t know how I feel about this and I waver for a moment, before I decide I have to let it go, for now anyway. Fran will be furious if she finds out, and I know the focus for all of us should be on Laurel and getting her home safely. I go to speak, to tell him that I’ll keep it quiet for now, but he’s already pushing past me, headed to where Fran sits in teary silence on the sofa.
‘Dominic.’ She gets to her feet as he enters, and at first I think she’s going to shout, or hit him, fury crossing her face before she crumples into his arms. ‘She’s gone, Dom. Laurel’s gone. Someone has taken our baby.’
I wake with a jolt, without even realising that I have dozed off. It must have only been for a few minutes, as I had watched the sun rise a couple of hours ago and now its light inches its way through the open curtains to create a warm puddle of gold on the parquet flooring. I shift, stiff and uncomfortable from spending the night scrunched into an armchair in the front room, my eyes gritty and sore.
With a rush the events of the previous evening come back to me and I force my stiff body round, placing my freezing cold feet on the floor, the wood warm beneath my bare skin. We had all been questioned separately, but informally, over the course of the evening about what had happened and what we had seen, and it had left me feeling almost drunk with tiredness, reliving those terrifying first moments when I looked down and Laurel was gone. My head aches, and I wince as I sit forward, taking in the scene in front of me.
Everyone is pretty much in the same position as they were last night, when Fran told me roughly to go to bed, that there was nothing I could achieve by staying up. I had refused, wanting to be there if any news came in, wanting to know if Laurel was OK, but her voice had a familiar hard edge to it, one that she uses to remind me that she is the boss, that she is in charge, not me. Instead of doing as I usually would and hurrying away upstairs to my room, I had folded myself into the hard, uncomfortable armchair in the corner of the room, for once daring to disobey Fran. Dominic had given me a tiny smile of solidarity as he watched me tuck my feet up underneath me, making it quite clear that I wasn’t going anywhere, that I would stay awake all night. Obviously, exhaustion had overtaken me at some point, even if it had only been for a few minutes.
Now, my head throbbing so hard it makes me feel queasy, I look to the tableau in front of me. Fran still sits curled into the huge, squashy sofa, while Dominic stares out of the front window. As I follow his gaze I see DS Wright pacing outside the front of the house, mobile phone clamped to her ear. Both parents look exhausted and grey, with slight wrinkles that I’ve never noticed before appearing at the corners of Fran’s eyes.
‘I take it there isn’t any news?’ I ask.
‘No.’ Fran shakes her head and dislodges a tear that runs slowly down her cheek. ‘Nothing.’ The door swings open and a tall, slim girl appears. She gives me a small smile, before asking if anyone would like some tea.
‘You remember DC Barnes, from last night,’ Fran says, her voice dull, as she leans down and picks up the mug of tea, now stone-cold, that I left by her feet an hour or two ago. ‘Apparently as well as a DC, she’s a “family liaison officer”.’ I can hear the quote marks she puts around the words.
‘Would you like a hand in the kitchen, DC Barnes?’ I ask, the atmosphere in the living room suffocating me in the few short minutes I’ve been awake again. She smiles her thanks and I follow her through into the huge, clinically clean kitchen where she looks around for the kettle, confused when she can’t seem to find it.
‘Here.’ I lean past her to the sink, turning on the boiling water tap. ‘No need for a kettle.’
‘Oh, fancy!’ She throws tea bags into the mugs laid out on the counter and starts to fill them. ‘Enough with the DC stuff for now,’ she says, raising her voice over the sound of rushing water. ‘Just call me Kelly. So, you’re Anna? Laurel’s nanny?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you worked for the Jessops for long?’
‘About three years,’ I say, thinking back to the day I got the job. I wasn’t sure if I’d even turn up for the interview, after what had happened before. I didn’t think I was cut out for nannying, not anymore, but working in a bar wasn’t for me as I had soon discovered, and a chance meeting with an ex-boyfriend, where he revealed that an old friend of his was looking for a nanny, meant that I decided to bite the bullet and take a chance. ‘Laurel was a year old when I started working here. It doesn’t seem like that long.’
‘And how is it?’ Kelly slides a hot mug of coffee towards me and leans against the counter, her blonde hair falling over one eye.
‘It’s OK. Good, I mean. I enjoy it.’ I sip at the coffee. ‘Laurel is a little sweetie. It wasn’t meant . . . It was only supposed to be temporary, a stopgap, you know? But . . . I liked it. So, I stayed.’ I’m more attached to Laurel than I ever thought I would get. I was conscious in the beginning that I shouldn’t let myself care for her too much, that it was bound to go wrong. Now look what has happened. I take another, bigger sip of coffee and let it scorch my tongue.
‘What about Fran and Dominic?’ Kelly asks, her eyes never leaving my face. ‘How are they to work for?’
‘Oh, you know,’ I shrug, but she gives a nod as if to say, go on. ‘Mostly fine. Fran is a bit . . . highly strung at times. She’s an actress, she’s always busy learning lines, meeting directors, that sort of thing, so things can get a little stressful for her. Dominic isn’t here a lot of the time. He’s always at the hospital.’
‘So, neither of them is about much?’
I think for a moment. ‘Not as much as they’d like, maybe. Fran loves being with Laurel, she just isn’t able to much of the time, not with auditions and meetings and things. And Dominic . . . well, he has to put his patients first quite often.’
‘And how are they together? Do they get along OK?’
‘Most of the time. Everyone has their ups and downs, don’t they?’
‘And what about you? Have you got a partner, boyfriend, significant other?’
‘No,’ I let out a little huff of laughter, ‘definitely not. I spend all my time with Laurel.’
‘So, did you live in the area before you started working here? Or did you move here especially?’
I snap my head up from where I am staring into my coffee and meet her gaze. I should have known that she wasn’t simply being friendly, I need to remember that she’s not my friend – she’s only here to do a job. I could kick myself for letting my guard down.
‘Am I being questioned?’
‘No,’ Kelly says, a faint blush rising in her cheeks, ‘nothing like that. I’m sorry. I just wanted to get a feel for how things are usually in the house. Obviously today it’s tense, and everyone is under a lot of strain. I don’t think Fran has taken too kindly to my being here.’
I let out a long sigh of relief. ‘She doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s simply the way she is. Prickly.’ I let out a tiny huff of rueful laughter. Fran is unpredictable at the best of times, and I often find myself walking on eggshells around her in case