Ann Cleeves - Raven Black

'Have you seen Cassie?'

'No. Is she here?' She took another bottle from the crate which stood at her feet, pulled an opener from her coat pocket and flipped off the top. 'Perhaps that's where he is, then, playing happy families. Cocoa and a story before bedtime, a reformed character!

He was surprised at the bitterness in her voice. 'Haven't you seen him?'

'No,' she said. 'I was in town watching Michael in his moment of glory as Guizer Jarl. Robert following him in the squad, counting the years till he's old enough to do it himself. He's wanted it since he was a boy. He used to act it out, parading through the house with a saucepan on his head.' She was talking to herself, the drink making her reflective, sentimental. 'I'm not sure why it means so much to him. Perhaps sometimes you need someone to tell you that you belong.'

'Was Duncan in Lerwick?'

'No,' she said. 'Why would he be? He never goes to Lerwick' for Up Helly Aa. He's above all that. He couldn't bear dancing with the middle-aged housewives in Isleburgh or the high school. He doesn't realize that he's almost middle-aged himself.'

'Cassie's missing: Jimmy said.

But Celia drank more beer and stared bleakly into the fire. She seemed not to have heard him.

Perez walked over to the crowd by the fire but he could see at once that Duncan wasn't among them. A young man in a long grey coat was sitting on an upended beer crate and playing the guitar very badly. The others gathered round pretending to listen, posing. When he asked about Duncan and Cassie they shrugged. He couldn't tell if they were stoned or drunk or they just didn't care.

He went into the house and started searching, frantic now. Someone had tidied up since his last visit. Duncan had a team of women in Brae he called in to clean for him, in return for a handful of notes and his lost little boy's smile. When the guests had arrived they must have gone straight from the kitchen to the beach, because the long drawing room was quiet and ordered, still smelling of wood smoke and beeswax. The fire was low and automatically he took a piece of driftwood from the bucket and threw it on. It must still have been damp because there was a hiss of steam before it caught.

He continued looking, because he didn't know what else to do and he couldn't go back to town with the job half done. He didn't expect to find anything. He went into rooms he'd never seen before, not even on the weekends when he and Duncan had escaped from Anderson High and had the run of the place. Right at the top of the house there was a whole floor which seemed to be unused. It was cold there, unheated. The floor was bare and many rooms were unfurnished, unsettling in the harsh light of the single bulbs, illuminated briefly as he switched on the light for a flash before moving on. Some were completely empty, some piled with junk. Then he heard a sound and he stood still. There were voices in conversation, a little laugh. The noise came from the last door on the landing.

'Duncan!' His voIce was cracked and breathless.

The voices fell silent, so he wondered if he had imagined them, mistaken the breeze which had picked up outside for human whispers. But the door didn't fit properly and light spilled under it. He walked quietly up to it and threw it open. Inside was an attic with a ceiling vaulted like the roof of a cathedral. A long window was covered by a piece of muslin so flimsy that it moved in the draught from the ill-fitting glass.

There was a bed as wide as it was long with carved wooden posts at each corner and heaped with faded quilts and rugs. And in the bed sprawled two young people, a man and a woman, not cold, apparently, although they Were only half dressed and not covered wholly by a quilt. They were sharing a post-coital cigarette. They were very young – sixteen? Seventeen? His entrance had shocked them but they looked out at him with a smug warmth which made him envy them. He gave a wave of apology, then shut the door behind him. He ran down the three flights of stairs and outside.

At the bonfire, the scene had changed. The guests were making their way back to the house, walking along the tideline. At their head strode Duncan. He wore his coat slung over his shoulders, caught with a single button so it fell behind him like a cloak.

Perez rushed up to him, blocking his process. 'Have you seen Cassie?'

'She's with Fran. The witch wouldn't let me have her tonight. Why?'

'She's missing, she got separated from Fran on the street in Lerwick!

Perez knew he should stay and explain in more detail. Duncan was her father and had a right to know. 'But he was aware of time slipping from him. Ignoring Duncan's shouted questions, he left them to their ridiculous ritual and slithered over the shingle to the house and his car. He slammed it into gear and drove too fast back to the town.

Sally went out of the community hall to get some air. The door swung shut behind her and the music grew fainter. Above her the sky was flecked with stars. The drink had gone to her head and she bent over, not thinking she was going to be sick exactly but wanting to stop that whirring sensation, the feeling that the earth was shifting and she had to concentrate to keep her balance, otherwise she'd tip over. She wasn't wearing a coat. She'd only be out for a minute and anyway it was roasting inside the hall with the heating full on and all those bodies, everyone dancing.

She hadn't seen her parents all night. Not to speak to at least. She'd caught a glimpse of Alex while she was watching the procession, and she'd wondered what he could be up to because there'd been no sign of her mother. Her parents had believed her story that she'd spend the evening with Fran Hunter and Cassie. When she'd told them, they'd seemed almost relieved at the prospect of a night to themselves.

If they'd been around to watch the burning galley, she hadn't seen them on the playing field. She supposed they'd be home by now. Margaret would be making a nice cup of Cocoa before bed, filling their hot water bottles.

Sally stood up and tilted back her head to look at the sky. It made her dizzy again, then the cold started getting to her and she went back inside.

In the hall it was like the first time she'd got together with Robert. A bit rowdier maybe. Some of the girls from school were there, making fools of themselves and she could tell they were dead jealous that she was with Robert.

All thoughts of secrecy were over now. In this mood she wanted the world to know. She was feeling good. Not so self-conscious. She'd lost a bit of weight since Catherine had died and that helped. Maybe she could sell the idea to the teenage magazines – The best friend's murder diet.

She knew it wasn't funny but she couldn't help smiling to herself. She went up to Robert. Her friends were all around him, but he wasn't taking any notice of them. Not flirting anyway, even after she'd left the hall. He hadn't seen her come back in and she'd watched him for a moment to check. Lisa was desperate to get his attention, but he just ignored her. He was still wearing part of the costume but had dumped the helmet and the shield somewhere. The dagger was in its sheath on his belt. When they'd danced that slow dance earlier, she'd been aware of it against her thigh. It had made her feel sexy. She'd never felt quite like that before.

She stroked his neck. He must have had a bit to drink too, but you wouldn't have been able to tell. He'd taken the whole Up Helly Aa thing seriously. She liked that about him. He wasn't like the lads at school who saw everything as an opportunity to take the piss. Now, with the music in the background, she felt she was floating above the scene in the hall, looking down at it from a distance. All the dreadful things that happened, with Catherine and the hassle with parents and the stuff that had gone on at school, all that was over.