Nick felt his blood pressure rising, the pulse in his temple ticking, his jaw clenching. ‘I already told you I’d contacted the council about this, that we should just proceed. Those were my instructions, Trev.’ His heart thumped as he paced around Claire’s kitchen. He thought everyone was out, but had he just heard a noise? Was someone back? He didn’t want to be overheard, not with everything else going on.

‘You didn’t need to check with them, Trev. Just continue with the cellar as we agreed.’ Nick’s throat tightened around the lie. He breathed out heavily, wondering if his lungs might collapse from stress. If he didn’t get the basement into a useable, basically habitable state, he didn’t know what he’d do. He stepped out into the garden. The sun flared out from behind a cloud, making him squint. He didn’t want to get Trevor into trouble, but what choice did he have? Money and time were running out.

‘You’ll have to trust me on this one. I’ll take any flak.’ There was a pause as Trevor thought about the implications. Nick could never reveal why he wanted the work done. No one would understand.

‘Fine. How much?’ he said, knowing when he was beaten. ‘Yes, it’ll be cash. Just get the job done, Trevor. I want it tanked, wired and hooked up to mains drains with a water supply as soon as possible. And make sure it’s fully soundproofed. I’ll give you the money when I return.’ Then Nick stifled an incredulous laugh. ‘How am I supposed to get it to you today? I’m in Cornwall.’ A pause. ‘Today, then. I’ll call you when I’m in London.’ And he hung up, red-faced, deflated, angry and absolutely terrified that his plans were falling apart.

---

‘Let me fill you in,’ PC Wyndham said to Maggie, pulling out a chair for her in Claire’s kitchen. Nick had just left, looking concerned, and Maggie sat down, struggling to hold her head up. It felt as though it had doubled in weight.

‘We’ve managed to speak to several of Rain’s friends, but none of them have heard from her since Saturday evening. Katie has been away in France but is back now, confirming that Rain hadn’t replied to her most recent texts. She said it was out of character, and she was planning on calling her soon. Phone records confirm all this.’

Maggie nodded, her eyes fixed on nowhere. Until there was good news, she didn’t see how she’d be able to carry on.

‘More significantly, though, we believe there was a sighting of her at the surf shop yesterday.’

‘Yes, I already know,’ Maggie said quietly. ‘Shouldn’t you be widening the search, doing something else?’

‘I can assure you that we’re doing everything to find your daughter, Maggie.’ She touched her arm. ‘It’s still relatively early days, don’t forget.’ She paused, but Maggie said nothing. ‘Is there any reason why Rain might have gone off with someone outside the surf shop, Maggie? Do either of you know anyone with a white van, a builder or tradesman, perhaps?’

Maggie narrowed her eyes, focusing on the picture PC Wyndham showed her. It was a big van with rusty wheel arches. Her mind was all over the place, trying to work out who they knew with such a vehicle.

‘Blake at the surf shop thought it was a Ford Transit, much like this one. From his description, we believe it’s an older model, quite battered.’

‘She’s just a kid,’ Maggie said flatly. ‘Of course she doesn’t know any tradesmen.’

‘What about you? Have you had anyone do any work for you who she could have got close to?’

‘She’s not like that!’ Maggie’s eyes pooled with tears. Rain wasn’t here to defend herself. ‘She’s a good girl, a good student and has lots of friends. Her own age,’ she added.

‘I’m just asking if it’s at all possible that she could know someone well enough to go off with them. Someone who drives a van like this.’

‘No. Definitely not.’ The truth was, Maggie didn’t know. With Rain away at boarding school much of the year, it felt as if she was answering questions about a stranger.

‘OK.’ PC Wyndham nodded. ‘Then we need to consider she might have met someone who owned a vehicle like this since you arrived, or…’ She slowed before continuing. ‘Or, if it was indeed Rain that Blake saw, then we have to consider the possibility that she was forced into the van against her will.’

Maggie let out a whimper. They were finally considering kidnapping. ‘She’d never go off with a stranger. And she’s not really had a chance to meet anyone down here.’

‘What about on Saturday night when she went to Newquay? Did she tell you much about the evening?’

‘No, and I didn’t ask. She was out all night, but that’s not uncommon. I trust her to be sensible. If she’s in trouble or needs to get home, I know she’ll get a cab or call me.’ Maggie was defensive, but suddenly felt like the worst kind of mother.

‘Does she drink?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘I have to ask about drugs too, I’m afraid.’

‘No!’ Maggie said, palms on the table, half standing up. ‘She goes to a good school. She is feisty, yes, and strong-willed, yes. She likes a drink and it’s not uncommon for her to be out very late or crash at a friend’s house. I know she smokes cigarettes sometimes because I smell them on her. She does her schoolwork and she’s popular with her friends. She’s had boyfriends in the past, but there’s no one special right now. I had an affair with her father, an MP, as you know, and apart from paying her school fees, he wants nothing to do with her.’

Maggie was shaking, her eyes fixed across the room. She just wanted to numb herself until they figured it out. Peter’s non-responsiveness was starting to get to her and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up. The door opened and Claire was there, looking concerned after hearing Maggie’s raised voice.

‘OK,’ the officer said gently. ‘Mrs Rodway, would you mind if I had a word with you in private now?’

Claire swallowed. ‘Of course.’ She led the way through to Callum’s study and shut the door, trying to remember exactly what he had told her to say. And to decide if she should even say it.