Silent Voices

They’d remember her from the night before. Any minute now they’d be calling the police. Neighbourhood Watch would be big in Tynemouth. It was that sort of place. Just as she was thinking she’d cut her losses and head straight off to meet up with Charlie, she heard footsteps on the stairs and the door was opened.
    She saw immediately that Morgan had been drinking. Maybe all night, or maybe he’d had a couple of hours’ sleep and woken up with a hangover that hadn’t quite kicked in yet because he was still pissed. She was an expert. He was wearing loose jogging pants and a hooded sweater and he stank of alcohol and sweat.
    ‘My God, man, I thought you were into clean living.’ She pushed the door further open and he stumbled back a little before following her upstairs. She drew the curtains and opened windows at both ends of the room. There was an empty vodka bottle on the floor, a tumbler beside it. Without speaking, she went into the kitchen and made two mugs of instant coffee.
    ‘Did Freya buy this?’ She held up the jar of Fair-trade instant and shook it at him. ‘You’re into the real stuff, aren’t you? You and Danny Shaw were both snobby about your coffee.’
    ‘Freya’s gone,’ he said.
    ‘What happened?’ Inside she gave a little cheer, but she kept her voice sympathetic. You could have taken her for a social worker.
    ‘She’s fallen for someone else. One of the other drama students. Brilliant actor, apparently. Destined for stardom.’ With each phrase he grew more bitter. Vera wondered how much of his reaction was grief that Freya had left him and how much was shock that she’d dared choose someone else over him. Like Danny, when Hannah had dumped him. Pride was something else the two men had in common.
    ‘Well, she’s very young,’ Vera said. ‘Too young to settle down maybe.’
    ‘But I wanted to settle down!’ It came out almost like a scream. ‘I wanted a home and a family. I wanted all those things everyone else has.’
    ‘It’s not all about what you want though, is it, pet?’ She thought he was like one of those toddlers she saw occasionally in the supermarket, lying on the floor and kicking and shouting because his mam wouldn’t buy him an ice cream. ‘Besides, I’ve got more important things to talk about than your love life. Drink that coffee and get yourself sorted. I need some questions answering and I haven’t got all day.’ She lowered herself on the futon in the living room and waited for him to follow her.
    Later, when the interview was over and she’d heaved herself to her feet ready to go, he said: ‘I really cared for Freya, you know. It wasn’t just about me.’
    And Mattie Jones really cared for you. But she didn’t spend a night getting pissed on cheap vodka; she killed her child. Vera looked at him and said nothing. Perhaps after all she couldn’t blame him for that.
    Charlie was still in the business park when Vera arrived there. She slid into his car on the passenger seat. Holly and Joe were already in the back. The complex was smart and landscaped, the visitor parking hidden from the office blocks by a row of trees and shrubs.
    ‘That’s Connie’s car.’ Charlie pointed to a far corner, which was still in shadow. ‘I nearly missed it.’ He didn’t smell quite as bad as Morgan, but he was on the way. It looked as if he hadn’t shaved for days and there was a mound of cigarette ends in the ashtray.
    ‘Has Eliot gone in?’
    ‘Well, I’ve never met him, but the car you described arrived at eight-thirty, parked in a reserved space near the door and a tall gent with grey hair went inside.’
    ‘That’ll be him then.’ Vera looked at her watch. It was not long after nine. ‘Joe, you come with me. Holly, you stay here and get the CSIs all over that car like a rash. Charlie, you go home and shower.’
    He started to argue. ‘You’re the hero here,’ she said, ‘and we won’t forget it. Shower, shave, an hour’s kip and you can come back. You won’t miss anything exciting. We’ll keep you posted.’
    ‘What do Fenham and Bright do then?’ Ashworth asked. She was walking fast towards the office building and Joe was trotting to keep up with her, so his question came out in short bursts.
    ‘Set up phone and Internet services, mostly in developing countries. That’s why Christopher Eliot travels so much.’ She’d googled the company after meeting Eliot in the White House.
    ‘You think he’s involved in Connie’s