Tunnels 02, Deeper

but I haven't had a squeak from her for months." Mrs. Burrows's voice fell to a whisper, her face blank and unreadable. "Everyone I know goes away... Maybe they all found better places to be."
    "I can only say how truly sorry I am," Sarah responded in a gentle, consolatory voice. "Your son -- do you think he went off to search for your husband? I read that the investigating officer considered it a possibility?"
    "I wouldn't put it past Will," Mrs. Burrows said, still gazing outside, where someone had made a halfhearted effort to tie some unhealthy-looking climbing roses to the cheap plastic pergola not far from the window. "I wouldn't be surprised at all."
    "So you haven't seen anything of your son since... when was it... November?"
    "No, it was before then, and no, I haven't," Mrs. Burrows exhaled.
    "What was he... what state of mind was he in, before he left?"
    "I really can't tell you -- I wasn't too good myself at the time, and I didn't ..." Mrs. Burrows stopped herself in mid-sentence and switched her gaze from the rose garden to Sarah. "Look, you must have read my case file, why are you asking me all this?" All of a sudden her whole manner transformed, as if a spark had been ignited. Her voice reverted to its usual rather impatient and snappy tone. She pulled herself up in her chair, squaring her shoulders as she regarded Sarah with a fierce intensity.
    The change wasn't lost on Sarah, who immediately broke off eye contact, pretending instead to consult the meaningless notes she'd made on the pad of paper. Sarah waited a few seconds before she resumed, her voice as level and calm as she could make it.
    "It's quite simple, really, I'm new to your case and it's very helpful to have some background information. I'm sorry if this is painful for you."
    Sarah could feel Mrs. Burrows's eyes boring into her as they analyzed her like twin X-ray beams. Sarah slowly sat back. Her outward appearance was relaxed, but inwardly she braced herself, ready for an onslaught.
    "O'Leary... Irish, hmmm? You don't have much of an accent."
    "No, my family moved to London in the sixties. But I go back for the odd holiday to--"
    Mrs. Burrows, her face animated and her eyes sparkling, didn't let her finish.
    "That's not your natural hair color; your roots are showing," she observed. "They look white. You dye your hair, don't you?"
    "Uh... I do, yes. Why?"
    "And is there something wrong with your eye -- is that a bruise? Also your lip -- it looks a bit puffy. Someone take a pop at you?"
    "No, I tripped down some stairs," Sarah replied tersely, injecting equal measures of indignation and exasperation to make her reaction sound credible.
    "That old chestnut! If I'm not mistaken, you're wearing heavy makeup over what I would say is a very pale complexion?"
    "Um... I suppose," Sarah flustered. She was staggered by Mrs. Burrows's powers of observation. Sarah's disguise was being slowly but surely dismantled, like petals being torn from a flower one by one to reveal what lay within.
    She was just wondering how she could deflect Mrs. Burrows's interrogation, which showed no sign of abating, when she caught sight of a clump of balloons painted on the wall just above thee other woman's left shoulder. A swipe of blue sky was washed over the balloons, almost completely obscuring and swallowing them up, turning their vibrant colors into dullness. Sarah took a shallow breath and cleared her throat, then said, "I need to ask you just a few more questions, Celia." She coughed to mask her unease. "I don think you are getting a little... um... personal..."
    "A little personal?" Mrs. Burrows laughed dryly. "Don't you think all your idiot questions are a little personal ?"
    "I need..."
    "You have a very distinctive face, Kate, however hard you try to disguise it. Come to think of it, you have a very familiar face. Where might I have seen you before?" Mrs. Burrows frowned and inclined her head, as if trying to remember. There was more than a little of the theatrical about her -- she was enjoying herself.
    "This doesn't have anything to do with--"
    "Who are you, Kate?" Mrs. Burrows cut her off sharply. "No way are you from social services. I know the type, and you're not it. So who exactly are you?"
    "I think perhaps that's enough for now. I should go." Sarah had made up her mind to call a halt to the meeting and was gathering her papers and replacing them in the folder. She'd hastily gotten to her feet and was retrieving her coat from the back of the chair