Necessary as Blood

Gemma thought for a moment. ‘Does she have a special blanket or stuffed toy?‘
    ‘A green elephant. She calls him Bob.‘ Alia‘s face relaxed into a half-smile. ‘I don‘t know why.‘
    ‘Okay. Bob, then. Make a game of it, if you can,‘ Gemma added quietly as Alia got up, hefting Charlotte onto her hip.
    When Alia left the room, Hazel moved to clear the dishes from the table, her movements sharp with disapproval.
    Gemma could deal with soothing her friend‘s ruffled feathers later. She turned to Tim, who said, ‘Gemma, do you think — could something really have happened to Naz?‘
    ‘I don‘t know. But I think it would help if I knew exactly what happened to your friend‘s wife.‘
    ‘No one knows. That‘s what I was telling you. She just vanished into thin air. There was a missing-person appeal, telly and newspapers. The police investigated. They even — well, they even treated Naz as a suspect.‘ Tim‘s tone was defensive, and below his beard his exposed neck turned a telltale red. Hazel, her back to them as she dried the baking sheet, had gone still.
    Dangerous territory, this, and Gemma thought she would have to traverse it carefully if she didn‘t want an explosion of hostility between the two, whose cooperation she needed. She sat beside Tim on the sofa, near enough to touch. ‘Let‘s back up a bit. You said your friend‘s wife is called Sandra. Is she not Pakistani?‘ Although the name, combined with the daughter‘s light-coloured hair and eyes and frizzy curls, made this a likely conclusion, she had to ask.
    ‘No. Her name was Sandra Gilles.‘ Tim used the past tense, Gemma noticed. ‘She grew up in a council flat in Bethnal Green, still has family there. A mother, half-brothers and half-sister. The family disapproved of the marriage, and Naz and Sandra disapproved of them. “Layabouts,” Naz said Sandra called them. Or worse. Sandra wouldn‘t let them have any contact with Charlotte. It infuriated her that they criticized Naz, who had worked his way through school and studied law, when none of them had ever held down a decent job. They weren‘t pleased with Sandra‘s success as an artist, either — said she "gave herself airs”.‘
    ‘She was an artist?‘ Hazel had left her tidying up and slipped into one of the dining-table chairs, looking intrigued in spite of herself.
    ‘Textile collage. Naz helped her through art college — Goldsmiths — when they were first married. She‘d become quite successful: gallery showings, some big commissions. Naz said she loved her work.‘
    ‘Any marital difficulties?‘ Gemma asked.
    ‘No.‘ Tim was vehement. ‘They had everything. They‘d been married almost ten years when Charlotte came along. They‘d almost given up on having a child. They were devoted to each other, and Sandra was a fiercely good mum.‘ The tension in the air had risen again, palpably, with the recitation of uncomfortable parallels. Tim and Hazel had also waited a long time to have a child, and Hazel had been a model mum.
    ‘He told you a lot,‘ Hazel said now, with an edge of sarcasm.
    Tim bristled. ‘Why do you have a problem with that? He had no one else to talk to.‘
    ‘How do you know he didn‘t just tell you what you wanted to hear?‘ Hazel retorted.
    ‘Stop it, both of you,‘ said Gemma, exasperated, even though she knew Hazel was right. What Naz Malik had told Tim might have nothing to do with the truth. Whether grieving or guilty, a sympathetic audience gave one the liberty to paint life as one wished it to have been. And although that in itself might be useful, they needed to move on. ‘Tim, you said the police investigated Naz. They didn‘t find anything?‘
    ‘No. Not a bloody thing.‘ He stared at them, as if daring contradiction.
    ‘Okay.‘ Gemma touched Tim‘s knee, giving credence to his statement. ‘So tell me about the day Sandra disappeared. You said it was in May, in Columbia Road?‘
    ‘She and Charlotte were supposed to meet Naz for a late lunch in Brick Lane. Naz had gone into the office—‘
    ‘On a Sunday?‘
    ‘He was preparing an important case. But they always went out for Sunday lunch together. Naz waited at the restaurant for an hour. Sandra didn‘t answer her phone. Then Sandra‘s friend Roy rang Naz and said Sandra had left Charlotte with him at the market, saying she‘d be gone just a few minutes, but hadn‘t come back. He‘d finished breaking down the stall and didn‘t know what to