‘What kind of incident?’ Dev asks, blinking.
Parsons’s gaze shifts from Dev to me and back again. ‘May we come in?’
Dev steps aside without a word, and I move out of the way as they enter. Parsons is tall, her dark hair pulled back into a neat bun, while Lott, a little shorter with a dark blonde bob, watches everything with astute, birdlike eyes.
‘Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?’ I cross my arms in my dressing-gown, pressing the soft fabric of my pyjamas against my skin.
They shake their heads, polite but firm. ‘No. No, thank you.’
We move into the main sitting room, the one Dev insisted we should keep ‘minimalist’. During the day, its main attraction is the expansive view, but in the early hours it’s all chrome and glass with no warmth or comfort. I snap on the lamps and the detectives sit down. The tension in the room is almost palpable, the silence stretching too long.
I break it. ‘What’s happening down there?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘We saw the ambulance. Is someone in trouble in the water?’
Lott and Parsons exchange a glance, and my stomach twists. ‘We need to ask you both some routine questions,’ Parsons says. ‘Can you tell us where you both were last night?’
‘We were here, at home,’ Dev says. ‘We held a small drinks party, just us and four friends.’
I hold my breath. Surely Dev won’t mention that we started off as friends before it self-destructed.
‘What time did the drinks go on until?’
I think about Sarah, rushing out of the house into the rain. Surely nothing happened to her last night. Jack would have told us if –
‘I waved the last people off around nine,’ Dev says, glancing at me for confirmation.
‘Yes, I think it was about that time.’
‘Quite early, then. We’ll need details of everyone who was here.’
Dev nods. ‘My phone’s upstairs, I’ll get it before you go.’
Parsons looks at me. ‘Did everyone leave together, at the end of your party?’
‘Yes.’ I press my fingertips hard into my upper arms. I’m not going to complicate matters by talking about the argument. ‘Whatever’s happened down at the lake, what’s it got to do with last night’s drinks party?’
‘Do you know a young woman named Sarah Fielder?’ Lott’s voice is smooth and not accusing in any way, but the question still hangs in the air, heavy and dreadful.
‘Sarah Fielder?’ I hear myself repeat faintly.
‘Sarah is a friend of ours and she was here last night,’ Dev answers, with a note of confusion. ‘Is she OK?’
Lott’s eyes are like small black holes, boring into me. It’s as if she’s waiting for me to falter. I can’t breathe.
Lott clears her throat. ‘I’m afraid we’ve recovered a body from the lake.’
‘A body?’ Dev’s voice is strained, as if he’s struggling to process the information. ‘Whose … whose is it?’
The room swims before me.A body.
The words hit me like a physical blow. I press my hands into the seat cushion at either side of me to steady myself. Ihear Dev’s sharp intake of breath, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. My mind races, trying to make sense of it, trying to remember if we’d heard anything earlier, if there were signs, anything unusual.
But no – everything was normal. Until it wasn’t.
‘We’re waiting for final confirmation, but there’s a strong possibility it may be Sarah Fielder’s body that has been recovered.’
49
‘Oh, no … Dear God, no.’ My hand flies to my mouth and I look wildly at Dev. I can feel it sinking in, one slow, dreadful beat at a time. ‘That’s impossible … It can’t be her …’
