Ann Cleeves - The Moth Catcher

‘She was killed in the valley?’ Now there was a reaction from Lizzie. Shock and something else. Anxiety?

‘I suppose so. Or her body was dumped there. The police have been nosing around, but they don’t tell us anything.’ The rain stopped as suddenly as it had started and the wipers squeaked on the dry windscreen. Annie shot another quick glance towards her daughter. ‘Where shall we go? Straight home or to Kimmerston? We could have coffee.’ She realized the last thing she wanted was to go straight back to the valley. ‘Dad’s doing a special meal, but he was planning it for later this evening. We know you don’t like to eat early. And you need new clothes. We left most of your old ones in the flat. What about heading into Newcastle for the shops?’ She stopped abruptly, hearing an edge of desperation in her voice.

There was another long silence before Lizzie answered. ‘Let’s go home. I’ve got used to eating early in the prison. And besides, I could murder a proper cup of tea.’

They were driving up the lane towards home when they passed the detective’s Land Rover coming the other way. Annie hoped they hadn’t been in their house bothering Sam again. He’d be tense enough about Lizzie coming home. Anxious about saying the wrong thing and not giving her proper support.

‘Whose car’s that?’ Lizzie had just looked up as they squeezed past, the Land Rover almost in the ditch.

‘They’re part of the police team.’

When they opened the door Sam was already in the hall. He must have heard the car. There was a moment of hesitation, then he opened his arms and Lizzie ran towards him. It was all better than Annie could have expected. After all, Lizzie hadn’t seen her father for several months and she wasn’t one for being held. Never had been. At the back of Annie’s mind there was a niggle. It can’t be this easy. Lizzie has conned us before. Why should I trust her this time? She thought they’d been hurt so many times before that it was sensible to limit her expectations . But she wanted to enjoy this moment too. Lizzie sober and clean, and home from prison. Lizzie being normal.

They’d got the room ready for her. Flowers in a jam jar on the windowsill. A new duvet cover on the bed. A small TV. Everything bright and clean. There was an arched window, formed from part of the old barn door, and the room was full of the sulphurous light.

‘Is this okay?’ Annie stood at the door and showed Lizzie in.

‘It’s lovely!’ Lizzie stood at the window and looked down at the river. ‘Where did you find Shirley?’

‘You can’t see the footpath from here.’ Annie was pleased about that. ‘The other houses must be in the way.’

‘I might go out for a walk later,’ Lizzie said. ‘That’s something else I’ve been looking forward to. The freedom to go wherever I like. Clean air.’

‘Not on your own!’ Annie realized, as soon as the words were out of her mouth, that they sounded controlling and bossy. Not at all how she’d hoped to be with her daughter. Not this time. She took a deep breath. ‘There’s a killer out there. I just want you to be safe.’

Lizzie turned from the window and stared at her. ‘If I stay indoors I might as well be in prison.’

‘Of course. I understand. You’re a grown-up and you have to make your own decisions. Take responsibility for yourself.’ A pause. ‘But let Dad come with you. At least for the first time this afternoon. He’d love to be asked. Otherwise I’ll spend all the time you’re out worrying about you.’

Lizzie gave a sudden smile. ‘Oh, Mum, you do try so hard.’

‘I’m sorry. I can never quite get it right.’

They stood for a moment, separate and apart, looking down at the valley.

Lizzie waited until early evening before heading outside. The rain had stopped and there were occasional bright bursts of sunshine. Everything looked fresh and green. Sam had started cooking the meal. There was a joint of lamb covered in rosemary waiting to go into the oven and a bottle of champagne chilling in the fridge. Lizzie had spent most of the afternoon on her own in her room with her phone. Annie worried that she was catching up with the friends who had caused her trouble before, but resisted the temptation to call Lizzie down for cups of tea and slices of home-made cake, to ask who she was talking to.

She was relieved at first when her daughter emerged into the kitchen and leaned against the bench, watching Sam stirring a pan.

‘I’m going out for that walk now.’ It was a kind of challenge and they both knew it.

Annie took a breath and kept her voice calm. ‘And you don’t want either of us to go with you?’

‘Next time. First time out, I want to enjoy it for myself. Don’t worry. I’ve got my phone.’ And she waved it. ‘I can look after myself. I won’t be long. I’ll be back at seven to eat.’

Annie wondered what numbers were stored in the mobile; even whether Lizzie had arranged to meet someone. Perhaps a car was waiting for her at the end of the track, where the trees hid the road from Valley Farm, and she’d be driven away back to her old life. Perhaps they’d never see her again. Then Annie told herself she was being paranoid and this relationship would never work if she couldn’t trust her daughter. If she kept up this level of worry she’d lose her mind.

Lizzie was already wearing a jacket. ‘I won’t be late. Promise.’ As she walked through the door, Annie thought she should have offered the use of her wellingtons because the grass would still be wet.

Annie stayed with Sam in the kitchen for a while, not helping with the cooking, but enjoying the company. The rhythm of his work relaxed her. ‘How do you think she seemed?’

He was chopping an onion and stopped, the sharp knife poised above the board. ‘Well. She’s put on a bit of weight.’

‘I mean in herself.’

He smiled. ‘Too early to tell, isn’t it? And we can’t watch her as if she’s a specimen in a jar. That would put anyone off.’ The knife sliced through the onion again, so fast that it was just a blur.

Annie laid the table and then went upstairs to take towels into Lizzie’s room. Not meaning to pry, she told herself, but because she’d forgotten to do it earlier. And she didn’t look at any of Lizzie’s things. But that room with its arched window gave the best view of the valley in the whole house. She moved the flowers from the windowsill and perched there. She stared out, hoping to catch sight of her daughter, of the blue Berghaus jacket she’d been wearing, realizing only then that had been her intention all along.

The valley was spread out beneath her. To her right there was the bungalow where Susan lived with her father. Annie didn’t know what to make of Susan. She was a good cleaner once she got going, but she talked too much. Gossip about people in the village. People Annie scarcely knew. Percy’s old Mini was in the lane, making its way to The Lamb. He was there every evening for an hour before his tea.

It occurred to Annie that The Lamb might have been Lizzie’s destination too. She’d grown up in the valley and had been to school with the few young people who remained. The thought comforted her. She’d be safe in the pub, and Percy might give her a lift back.

Annie still didn’t move from her perch. She thought she was like Nigel, staring with his binoculars, pretending to be looking at birds, but following Lorraine’s every movement. There was the sound of barking and the dogs ran out of the O’Kane house into the courtyard. Not Jan with them, but John, hunched into a waxed jacket, calling them to follow him. Annie ran downstairs, into the kitchen and out of the back door. ‘Just popping in to see Jan.’

Sam looked up and gave her a little wave, but didn’t say anything.