Page 80 of The Housewarming

Once the jacket was found, there were no further household searches. The divers went into the Thames, found nothing. Neil and Bella, Ava and himself all gave their statements. Other leads ran to nothing – the BMW, the witness who wasn’t sure, mobile-phone data, CCTV. The investigation was scaled back, put under review. DI Farnham left her direct line:call me if any new information comes to light.

There is no new information.

On its own, the tool bag is not information.

On its own, Jasmine’s recognition of Mr Sloth is not information.

On its own, Neil’s being out all night is not information.

Every detail, on its own, is not information.

But together…

He calls Ava.

Thirty-Seven

Ava

I am alone, alone with my boy and with something rushing in, something taking shape. I am watching the street wake up, watching front doors open, my neighbours walking in the direction of the station, cars drifting away to local jobs. I am watching them and thinking about Sunday morning, talking to Jen on the street. The garage door opening behind her. Johnnie emerging in his car.

I am thinking about that beat-by-beat morning, about Matt returning home for his raincoat just before 8 a.m.

Eight-ish, Jen said she and Johnnie left for work.

His car wasn’t on the drive.

But Johnnie keeps his car in the garage.

If their car was in the garage, it was not visible.

If their car was not visible, their house would have seemed closed, empty.

If they left at eight, and if Matt grabbed his coat just before, it’s possible the Lovegoods were still home.

Which means it’s possible that they were still there when he left the door open.

If Abi left moments later, carrying Mr Sloth, it’s possible they saw her and that she told them his name.

Jasmine would have seized upon the name, put it together with Neil in her mind because Neil had a game going with her cuddly toys.

Neil wasn’t there; he was at home. Which means the Lovegoods, not Neil, were there that morning.

They must have spoken to her.

They must have seen her.

Seen her and said nothing.

My mobile is ringing. I find it in the kitchen drawer and see what I already know – Matt calling, doubtless all hand-wringing and apologies after the fact. I have no desire to speak to him; I need to process all that I’m now thinking and am frankly appalled that he can’t just leave me alone. But if I don’t answer, he will ring again and again. So I pick up.

‘Matt.’

‘Ava. Ava, don’t hang up. It’s not… I’m not calling about us.’

Something stirs within me, something that is not quite premonition.

‘It’s about Abi,’ Matt says, his tone wretched. ‘It’s about Neil.’

---