Кара Хантер - No Way Out

`This is why I have this car,' says Saumarez, as they jolt into a rut. `You need a four-by-four to get up and down here in winter.'

It's a steep unmade drive for the first hundred yards and suddenly the trees open out and Somer can see an area of gravel and a line of white single-storey houses. A wooded slope down to the water on one side; on the other, and far closer, the power station: vast unforgiving blocks of concrete and a chimney towering above. And beyond all that, in the distance, the oil refinery, as large as a small town. Metal chimneys bristling with lights and gantries. Low white gas canisters dotted like a gigantic draughts board. Plumes of smoke against the indigo sky.

Saumarez gets out and comes to join her. `What do you think?'

`I can't decide if it's beautiful or obscene.'

He laughs. `Me neither. It's one reason why I live here. Stops me getting complacent. And, of course, it's cheap. Most people don't consider that to be much of a view.'

When he opens the front door, ducking to get inside, she realizes that what had looked like three or four cottages is actually one. Someone `“ Saumarez? `“ has knocked them all together into one huge open-plan space. Stone fireplaces, piled logs, stripped floors, tongue-and-groove walls. White and shades of grey. Pale stripes. Mirrors with driftwood frames.

`I like it,' she says, suddenly aware how filthy she is.

Saumarez is busy turning on the lights. `The bathroom's through at the back,' he says, gesturing. `If you want a shower there are towels, and I can find you something to wear.'

It's all a bit clichГ©d `“ how many romcoms has she seen with a scene just like this? `“ but ten minutes later she opens the bathroom door gingerly to find a T-shirt on the floor outside. Not one of his, that's for sure. She does what she can with her hair and ventures back out. Through one of the windows she can see Gislingham standing by his car, talking on the phone. Probably telling Fawley what a fuck-up she made sending them on a 2oo-mile round-trip for nothing.

`All done?' asks Saumarez, from the other side of the room.

`Thanks for the shirt.'

`Not mine, as you've probably guessed.'

`Thank your girlfriend then.'

He smiles. `My daughter. My eldest daughter, to be precise. Olivia is only ten. But Claudia's nearly as tall as you. Or she was last time I saw her.'

`Pretty names.'

He gives a sardonic smile. `My wife's choice. She said I'd have called them Girl A and Girl B given half a chance.'

`Do they live a long way away?' she asks, wondering about that `last time'.

`Vancouver far enough for you?'

There's something in his face now and she bites her lip. `Sorry `“ I didn't mean `“'

`It's not a problem. Not for me anyway. I miss them, but it's a fabulous opportunity. I grew up on an island twelve miles long. I want wider horizons for my girls.'

He sees her eyes stray towards the window and laughs. `Everyone does that `“ assumes I must mean the Isle of Wight `“ but it was actually Guernsey. A lot smaller and a lot further away.'

`How often do you get to see your daughters?'

He shrugs. `We Skype every week and I get to be Hero Dad once a year when they come over. It works. OK, it's not quite what I had in mind when they were born, but it works.'

There's a knock on the door then and Saumarez opens it to Gislingham, who makes a great show of looking at his watch.

`Can we go now?'

He's staring at her T-shirt. It says BeyoncГ© in pink and blue sequins. She blushes. `The DI was kind enough to lend me this.'

`One of my daughter's,' says Saumarez genially. Which makes Gislingham suspicious, straight away. Because as he clocked over an hour ago, the DI's not wearing a ring.

There's a pause that threatens to become embarrassing, then Saumarez clears his throat. `If there's anything else I can help with, you know where to find me.'

`Talk about up himself,' says Gislingham as they walk towards his car.

Somer flushes a little. `Oh, I don't know. Seems OK to me.'

It's on the tip of Gislingham's tongue to ask what Fawley would think of her making nice with another DI but he stops himself just in time. After all, he doesn't actually know there's anything going on between her and the boss. And what she does in her private life is her business. Obviously. But all the same, there's no getting away from the fact that he's pissed off, and pissed off that he's pissed off, and doubly pissed off that she knows he's pissed off and she probably thinks it's all because she sent them on this bloody wild goose chase.

The journey back is all but silent.

Telephone interview with Stacey Gunn, 9 January 2018, 9.11 a.m.

On the call, DC E. Somer

SG:Hello? Who's that? ES:My name is Detective Constable Erica Somer. The switchboard put you through to me `“ I'm part of the team investigating the fire in Southey Road. SG:Right. Good. I saw the appeal you put out. On the local news. That's why I'm calling. ES:Did you know the Esmonds, Ms Gunn? SG:Just her. Samantha. We did Pilates together. I never knew where she lived so I didn't realize it was her house in that awful fire. But I saw him once `“ her husband. He picked her up after a session. That's why I recognized him on the TV. ES:When did you last see Mrs Esmond? SG:She hasn't come much recently. To the class, I mean. She stopped when she got pregnant and she hasn't really been back since. ES:So you haven't seen her for over three years? SG:Sorry, I'm not making myself very clear. I saw her at the doctor's `“ the one off the Woodstock Road. Must have been about two months ago. She had both the kids with her. But to be honest, I almost didn't recognize her. She looked awful. Hair all rats' tails, no make-up. She'd always been so beautifully turned out before. Even for a Pilates class. I think her husband liked it that way. ES:What makes you say that? SG:That day he turned up `“ he helped her put on her coat, and then he stepped back and looked at her, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a bit creepy, to be honest. ES:Did she ever talk to you about her husband? SG:Not really. Nothing more than general stuff. But looking back at it now it was as if she was being really careful what she said about him. Making sure she didn't say anything out of place. ES:I see. You said you saw Mrs Esmond at the doctor's. Did she say what she was there for? SG:Well, I know it wasn't for the kids. When she went in it was her name they called. But if you ask me, it was pretty obvious. ES:Yes? SG:Post-natal depression. A cousin of mine had it. She looked exactly the same. Like the light had gone out in her eyes.***

Somer puts down the phone and sits there for a moment. Then she gets up quickly and leaves the room. Five minutes later Everett pushes open the door to the Ladies and finds her motionless, staring into the mirror.

`You OK?'

Somer sighs. `Was it that obvious?'

Everett smiles drily. `Probably not to most of the blokes. But if you're still worrying about the Calshot thing, then seriously, don't. It was a good call. Imagine what would have happened if he'd actually been there and we didn't bother checking it out `“'

`It's not that,' says Somer quickly. `I was just talking to one of Samantha Esmond's friends. Or what I suspect was the nearest thing she had to a `њfriend`ќ.'

Everett comes over to join her, leaning against the basin. `You're right. I hadn't thought about it before, but no one else who knew her has come forward, have they?'

`I get the impression her husband doesn't `њapprove`ќ of friends very much.'

`So what did this woman say?'

Somer turns to face her. `She saw her at the doctor's. Samantha didn't say why she was there but her friend thinks it might have been post-natal depression. She recognized the signs `“ she knew someone who'd had it.'