Janine paused at the traffic lights in Fallowfield. Student territory here – the halls of residence that lined one side of the road were home to some of the thousands of students who came to study in the city. She watched pedestrians cross the road: an old man with a dog, both white-haired and skinny; a trio of girls, Rosa’s age; a man on his own, baseball cap and jacket, a bounce in his gait. Where was Rosa’s killer? Could he sleep? Could he eat and swallow and carry on with his daily life? Did he dream about what he had done? Was someone harbouring him – uneasy at his
mood, at his reaction to the news coverage or his sudden interest in doing the laundry?
She was late getting back – again. She’d already rung Pete to warn him but as usual her estimate was far too optimistic. ‘Sorry, sorry.’ She found him in the lounge with Charlotte who was dozing in her carrycot. ‘It always takes longer than I think. Kids all right?’
Pete nodded. ‘Fine.’
Janine looked at Charlotte; the sleeping infant made suckling motions with her mouth, gave a little sigh. Janine drank the moment in. Then she sat down heavily beside Pete. ‘God, what a day!’
‘It’s hard to believe.’ Pete said. ‘Ann-Marie…’
‘She didn’t make it,’ Janine said quietly.
Pete exhaled, sat back bracing his hands against the front of his thighs.
Thoughts of the Chinleys swamped Janine’s mind. ‘Has Tom said anything?’
Pete shook his head. ‘You going to tell him?’
‘In the morning. They’ll probably send a letter round from school…’ She faltered. ‘How the hell you explain…’
‘I don’t think I remember her.’
‘Skinny,’ Janine told him, ‘curly, black hair. Her mum always did a stall at the summer fair. They had a dog. Probably still got the dog.’ The ridiculous statement moved her to tears. She closed her eyes, covered her face, felt his arms go round her.
‘Oh, Pete… could have been us… Tom.’ She rested there for a moment then pulled away, wiping at her face. ‘I’m OK.’ She couldn’t afford to indulge her grief – not with Pete, anyway. ‘This week – it’s going to be all hours. And Connie – she deserves her evenings off.’ She didn’t want to jeopardise things with Connie. She’d struck lucky there. Most people said finding a nanny was a complete nightmare. When Janine had first met her she’d been impressed by the young woman’s enthusiasm. ‘Manchester is just fantastic,’ she’d said. ‘Lots going on: the Bridgewater Hall, the theatre. Do you go much?’
