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when she'd been talking to her.
    “It's a touchy subject with her.” She stood up and placed her mug on a table. She was careful not to show how angry she was. She could imagine the senior partner's fury if the practice got hit for compensation for 'pain and suffering'. The bloody woman ought to have been locked up years ago. "Do me a favour, Mel. Forget she said anything. She was way out of line .. . shouldn't have done it. You're too sensible to get hung up on anything Fay Baldwin says."
    "She looked shit-scared when I said she shouldn't be shooting her mouth off about stuff like that."
    “I'm not surprised.” Sophie glanced at her watch. "Look, I have to go. I'll have a chat with Fay's replacement, tell her what's been going on, ask her to come out ASAP. You can speak to her about anything she's a great listener and I promise she won't give you any lectures. How does that sound?"
    Melanie lifted a thumb. “Wicked.” She waited for the door to close then pulled her daughter on to her knee. "See, darling'. That's a conspiracy. One silly bitch gives the game away 'cos she's a frigid cow and everyone else makes out they don't know nothing." She recalled Fay's terror as she ran from the house. "But the frigid cow was telling the truth and the rest're fucking lying."
    The message Sophie left on Fay's phone when she got back to her car was a blisterer.
    "I don't care what your problems are, Fay .. . as far as I'm concerned your mental health would be vastly improved if your milkman fucked you rotten tomorrow .. . but if you ever go near Melanie Patterson again I will personally march you to the nearest loony bin and have you committed. What the hell do you think you were doing, you stupid stupid woman ?
    Half an hour later and a mile away in the Nightingale Health Centre Fay Baldwin's hand trembled as she wiped the message from her voice mail Melanie had betrayed her.
     

Three.
    Friday 27 July 2001 - Portisfield Estate midday
    THE CAR WAS parked for twenty minutes outside the Roman Catholic church in Portisfield. Several people walked past it, but none of them gave it a second glance. One described it afterwards as a blue Rover another as a black BMW. A young mother, pushing a pram, had noticed a man inside, but she couldn't describe him and, under police questioning, changed her mind and said it might have been a woman with short hair.
    When the twenty minutes were up, a thin, dark-haired child opened the car door and slipped on to the passenger seat, leaning over to plant a kiss on the driver's cheek. No one saw her do it, although the young mother thought she might have seen a little girl answering that description turn the corner from Allenby Road a few minutes earlier.
    Under the same questioning, she vacillated, saying the girl might have been blonde.
    “All right?” the driver asked.
    The child nodded. “Did you get me the new clothes?” "Of course. When have I ever not kept a promise?“ Her eyes lit with excitement. ”Are they nice?“ ”Just what you ordered. Dolce & Gabbana top. Gucci skirt. Prada shoes.“ ”Wicked.“ ”Shall we go?"
    The child looked at her hands, suddenly hesitant. "You can change your mind at any time, sweetheart. You know I only want you to be happy."
    The child gave another nod. “OK.”
     

Four.
    Friday 27 July 2001 - 14 Allenby Road, Portisfield Estate 6.10 p.m.
    THE SUN WAS still high in the western sky at six o'clock, and tempers grew short as air-conditioned shops and offices emptied into the sweltering temperatures of that July evening. Tired workers, anxious to be home, boiled in overheated cars and buses, and Laura Biddulph's progress along Allenby Road slowed as she braced herself for another round with Greg's children. She couldn't decide which was the more depressing, an eight-hour shift at the Portisfield Sainsbury's or going home to Miss Piggy and Jabba the Hutt.
    She toyed with telling them the truth. Tour father's disgusting .. .
    Don't even think I want to be