Val McDermid - The Vanishing Point

Scarlett caught my eye. ‘It’ll be a whole new me,’ she said, not quite managing to hide her sadness. ‘I’ll be like the queen, never seen out of the house without a hat.’

‘You’ll be a style icon,’ I said, trying to reassure her.

‘Maybe. But right now, this style icon needs to go to bed.’ She pulled the hat off, yawning. ‘Poor Jimmy’s going to freak out in the morning when he sees me.’

But he didn’t. He barely registered the change. I was taken aback. Like Scarlett, I’d expected him to be scared or upset or, at the very least, bewildered. I asked Simon about it when I saw him at the next chemo appointment. ‘You’d be surprised,’ he said. ‘Kids respond to the person, not the appearance. I’ve seen cases where the parents were terrified of letting the child see the patient because they thought it would be a nightmarish experience. But that’s not how it works. Even when the cancer or the treatment causes quite serious disfigurement, the patient’s children seem not to be frightened or revolted. It’s an interesting demonstration of their ability to understand that what makes us who we are is what’s on the inside, not the outside.’ He gave a sad little smile. ‘One of the traits I wish we could hang on to into adulthood.’

Scarlett had clearly taken Simon’s point on board. We were driving back to Essex when she brought the conversation up again. ‘I’m glad Jimmy isn’t scared of my new look,’ she said.

‘He knows who you are. And he knows he loves you.’

‘He’s always known who I am. Not like the punters who’ve been fooled by Leanne all these years.’

‘People see what they expect to see,’ I said. ‘It’s why eyewitness evidence is notoriously unreliable in court. Our eyes see a glimpse of something and our brain fills in the rest of the picture based on what we remember and what we know. Punters in a club or at a fashion show or backstage at a gig expect to see Scarlett, so that’s what their brain tells them. You might have run into trouble if Joshu had started running off at the mouth and people started looking for incongruities. Because then they would have found them. But luckily that never came up.’

‘You wouldn’t need Joshu mouthing off now, though. Look at me. I’ve put weight on, my face looks like the full moon, and I’ve got no hair. I can’t have Leanne walking around looking like the old me, can I?’

I suppose I hadn’t really considered the question till Scarlett brought it up. ‘You mean it’s time for her to go back to being a brunette?’

Scarlett sighed. ‘For starters. Yeah. She needs a different haircut too. Short, something that makes the shape of her face look different. More than that, though. I think it might be time for her to bugger off to Spain.’

I was shocked by her casual delivery. Leanne had lived with her for a couple of years by that point. She’d picked up the pieces when Scarlett’s marriage collapsed. She’d played a crucial role in bringing up Jimmy. She’d supported her through the cancer diagnosis, not to mention the exhaustion and depression that came with the chemo. And now Scarlett was talking about sending her cousin into exile with as much emotion as she’d shown when she’d changed window cleaners the year before.

‘You don’t think you’re going to need her help getting through the rest of the treatment? She’s been a real rock.’

Scarlett reached into her bag and pulled out her water bottle. She took a long drink, then smacked her lips in satisfaction. ‘It’s not been as bad as I thought it was going to be,’ she said. ‘Yeah, I feel like shit after I’ve had a session, but I can cope with it. I’ve got Marina looking after the cooking and taking care of Jimmy and running the cleaners.’ She reached over and patted my thigh. ‘And you’ve been fantastic. I couldn’t have got through this without you, Steph. But the last thing I need at the moment is for somebody to see Leanne out and about in Tesco looking like a healthy version of me. All it takes is one happy snapper to post a pic on Twitter or a few seconds of video on YouTube and suddenly the red-tops’ll be asking all the wrong questions.’ She pulled her hat off and scratched her head. ‘I’m not up to handling that,’ she said. ‘No way.’

She had a point. And it wasn’t as if Leanne had any grounds for complaint. She’d done what was asked of her, no question about it. Even when she’d had a drink, even in the small hours when the freelances were pretending to be her friend, even in the ladies’ rooms in the VIP areas when the Colombian marching powder was on offer, she’d kept her mouth shut and never so much as hinted that there was a dark secret lurking in the closet.

But on the other side of the equation, she’d lived a life she could only have dreamed of when she was scraping along the bottom on a scummy Dublin satellite housing estate. She’d been housed and fed, she had money in her pocket for clothes and make-up and spa treatments. She’d been to every cool party and hip club that she fancied and, unlike most of the bimbos on the circuit, she hadn’t had to shag anyone to earn that access. The upside of the childcare she’d provided had been the chance to spend time with Jimmy, a kid who was generally more rewarding to be with than most toddlers.

And it wasn’t as if Scarlett was planning to cast her adrift without a bean. Leanne had already visited the villa in the Spanish hills that Scarlett had bought for her. Scarlett had organised the conversion of the pool house into a nail bar where she could do manicures, pedicures and reflexology. Leanne would walk into a home of her own with a readymade business literally at her fingertips. Really, she could have no grounds for complaint.

And yet. And yet . . . I couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t going to be smooth sailing. But Scarlett clearly shared none of my misgivings.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll give it a couple of weeks then tell her it’s time to start making plans.’

A lot can happen in a couple of weeks. By the time Scarlett’s notional deadline rolled around, getting rid of Leanne was the last thing on her mind.

33

Stephanie paused to drink from her water bottle. Vivian glanced at her watch. She’d missed lunch and it looked like dinner was going the same way. ‘You weren’t lying when you said it was a long story.’

‘I’m sorry. But you did say you wanted to know everything that might have a bearing on Jimmy’s disappearance.’

‘It certainly sounds like he’s had an exceptional run of experiences.’ And will spend most of his adult life in therapy . ‘I think we need to—’ Her attempt to suggest a break for food was sabotaged by a knock at the door. Vivian nodded to Lia Lopez, who opened up to reveal Abbott looking pissed off.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he said. ‘But I need to speak with Agent McKuras.’

Vivian was on her feet before he’d finished talking. She took his arm and steered him back into the corridor. ‘Sorry, but I need to eat,’ she said, leading the way down the hallway towards the concourse. ‘I can’t concentrate for five more minutes unless I get some food in me.’

‘OK,’ Abbott said, trailing in her wake. He was a married man; he knew better than to argue when a woman displayed all the signs of low blood sugar. Vivian strode through the crowds of passengers, making straight for the Burger King on the food court. Once she had two cheeseburgers and a large coffee in front of her, he decided it was safe to speak.

‘We’ve tracked the boy and his kidnapper from the security area. They took the first available exit and emerged on to the landside concourse. They didn’t go near baggage reclaim. Instead they made straight for the parking garage across the way from the arrivals hall. Interestingly, the guy didn’t go to the payment machines. He didn’t seem to have a parking ticket to validate. He just walked straight in with the kid and they got into an elevator. And that’s where it gets interesting. They don’t show up on any of the footage of the elevator exits.’