‘They are?’
‘Yes. It was in the papers. Six since the New Year. All carried out by a young man in black. All involved rough grabbing and groping.’
Elona looks vaguely appalled.
‘I mean, can you see any reason why she might have taken back the claim? Maybe she was scared to go to the police?’
‘I honestly don’t know. I mean, we’ve barely spoken about it. I was sosocross with her for wasting everyone’s time like that, for lying. I was so embarrassed by her behaviour, you know, and I’m a single mum and everything she does feels like such a reflection on me, you know, and she thinks so highly of Georgia and of you and your family.’
‘She does?’
‘Yes. Oh God, yes. So much. She never had a real friend before Georgia. She’s in awe of her. And I think both of us were just a bit, you know, thrown by what happened that night.’
‘Oh, honestly, no! She must never worry what we think. Or what Georgia thinks. Georgia is rock solid. Nothing throws her. She’s really thick-skinned. You must tell Tilly that whatever it was that happened that night, whether it was real or not, she can tell Georgia. Georgia would never judge her. No one in our family would judge her. I promise.’
Elona smiles and puts her hand over Cate’s. She has a heavy gold chain around a narrow wrist; her nails are painted taupe. ‘Thank you, Cate,’ she says. ‘Thank you so much. I will talk to her tonight and see if there’s anything she’s not telling me. You’re very kind to take such an interest.’
Cate smiles tightly. She’s not being kind. She’s being desperate and scared.
She walks home via the supermarket where she buys all the cake-making ingredients on Georgia’s list. At the checkout she glances across the street again at the entrance to the Tube station, subconsciously looking out for her husband, as if the echo of hisappearance there two weeks ago might still be playing out infinitely.
She walks home circuitously, via a couple of the places the newspaper report mentioned, to the estate agent just past the cinema where she sees police tape up around the back entrance, a police car still parked on the street outside. Then to the dogleg in the next road down from her road, the place she sometimes goes to post letters. She doesn’t know the precise location of this attack, but it makes her shudder nonetheless, looking at the hidden places here where a woman could easily be grabbed without anyone seeing.
She walks home quickly after that, all her nerves on end, her breathing coming slightly too hard. As she turns the next corner on to her street, she sees someone sitting on the wall outside her house. It’s a young man, well built. He’s wearing a grey coat with a bright green hoodie underneath. As she gets closer she sees that he is mixed race, very nice-looking. He gets to his feet when he sees Cate turning on to her pathway. He says, ‘Hi, do you live here?’
‘Yes,’ she replies, thinking that she should be nervous, especially in the light of what she’s just been doing, but that she isn’t. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I … I guess. I don’t know. My niece. Saffyre. She was here. I think. You know, Saffyre Maddox? She disappeared … I …’ He pulls at his chin as he talks, as if trying to massage out the right words.
‘You’re Saffyre’s uncle?’ she asks.
‘Yes, I am. Aaron Maddox. Are you Mrs Fours?’
‘Yes.’
‘Roan Fours’s wife?’
She nods.
‘Would it be OK if I asked you a few questions?’
She knows she should say no. She should sayI’ve said everything that needs to be said to the policeand send him on his way. But there’s something in his body language that suggests he’s carrying something with him, and not just the pain of his missing niece.
She says, ‘What sort of questions?’
‘I’ve found something,’ he says. ‘In her room. And I know I should take it to the police. But I just kind of wanted to check in with you first. Because … I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense. Could I come in?’
She looks across the street at Owen Pick’s house. It’s blank and quiet. She looks up at her neighbours’ windows. ‘Sure,’ she says. ‘Of course. Come in.’
In her kitchen, Aaron Maddox sits for a moment in his big grey coat before Cate says, ‘Here, let me hang that up for you.’
‘Thanks, that’s great. Cheers.’
Underneath the coat his hoodie has the Marvel logo and a picture of Spiderman on it. She finds this strangely reassuring.
‘Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Something cold?’
‘Water would be great. Thank you.’