Page 80 of Darling Girls

JESSICA

‘I‘ll get the drinks,’ Norah said the moment they walked into the pub.

Anna had another meeting, so they’d decided to grab some lunch before they reconvened in a couple of hours. Jessica had suggested they mix it up, maybe get fish and chips, but Norah wouldn’t hear of it. Desperate to get back to the bartender, obviously. Unlike last night, the place was bustling, and the line for the bar was three deep, but Norah pushed her way to the front, unbothered by the irritated comments from people waiting.

‘Good luck getting a table,’ Hando said, appearing behind them. Patel was by his side.

‘Our lawyer told us we’re not allowed to talk to you,’ Jessica said.

‘Understood,’ Patel said. ‘And we won’t ask you anything about the case. But we can talk about burgers, can’t we? The local cops tell us they’re the only edible thing on the menu. Apparently we need to avoid the chicken at all costs.’

‘Three burgers,’ Alicia called to Norah, who relayed the order to the bartender.

‘Five,’ Hando said, and the bartender nodded and turned to put the order through the window.

As they waited for a table to become available, Jessica and Alicia stood awkwardly alongside the detectives. Jessica received a text message from Sonja, informing her that she needed to speak with her urgently. Jessica reached into her bag for another pill, and turned off her phone.

‘Can I ask you guys something?’ Patel said. ‘Not about the case, promise.’ When no one responded, she pressed on. ‘Why don’t any of you have kids?’

People were jostling them. At the far end of the room, a horse race was playing on a large television and several men stood watching it, beers in hand. Everyone in Port Agatha must have been having lunch at the pub that day.

‘I’m a social worker,’ Alicia said. ‘I have thousands of kids.’

‘Never thought about fostering yourself?’

‘Once or twice.’ She shrugged. ‘But the timing hasn’t been right.’

As far as Jessica knew, Alicia had never considered fostering. Then again, Alicia might have been lying. After all, if crime novels were anything to go by, the only person more likely to commit murder than a foster child was a woman who was childless by choice.

‘What about you, Jessica?’

Jessica offered her usual answer. ‘I would have liked to, but . . .’

She shrugged, as if to imply that she was unable to have kids. She’d found it to be the easiest response, and the one least likely to provoke any supplementary questions. The truth was, Jessica had never tried to get pregnant. Whenever Phil half-heartedly brought it up she told him they would definitely try ‘in a few years’, and he always accepted it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want kids. If one had showed up in her life like a lost dog, she would have scooped it up and loved it and protected it forever. But making the decision to have one, tocreateone, was too big a leap.

Occasionally, over the years, she’d fantasised about Norah getting pregnant. Unlike Alicia, Norah had a lot of sex, and also unlike Alicia, she had a profound dislike of children. In the fantasy, Norah would birth the child and Jessica would graciously step in and raise it as if it were her own, leaving Norah to be the favourite aunty. She would perform every role required of a mother and more. She’d be fiercer, more loving than she’d ever been. Which really begged the question: if she could do that for Norah’s child, why not her own?

‘Have a nice chat with the barman?’ Alicia said to Norah when she finally reappeared. The noise from the crowd and the television were giving Jessica a headache. She was glad she’d taken two pills before coming here.

‘I was getting your drinks!’ Norah said. ‘Talk about ungrateful . . . Hey, there’s a high table – over there!’

Norah hurried towards it, almost knocking over a couple headed in the same direction. When the rest of them – the detectives included – joined her, Norah said, ‘For fuck’s sake.’

‘What?’ Jessica asked.

Norah pointed at the doorway, and the rest of them turned to see Miss Fairchild, neat and prim in jeans and an expensive quilted anorak, glancing around the room with a slight frown. To anyone else, she would have seemed to be assessing whether to stay at the pub or go somewhere else, but Jessica recognised it as a performance. Miss Fairchild knew they were there. Nothing in her world happened by chance.

There was a theatrical moment in which she appeared to notice them, and then she slithered through the crowd towards them as though they were friends.

‘Hello,’ she said brightly, looking at Jessica. ‘Grabbing some lunch? Me too.’

‘Get the chicken,’ Norah said. ‘It comes highly recommended.’

‘We read your interview online,’ Alicia said. ‘Nice touch, putting not only us but all foster children under suspicion.’

Patel and Hando stepped forward, clearly keen to prevent a confrontation.

Miss Fairchild’s face tightened. It aged her, emphasising the tiny lines around her mouth. ‘It’s important to me that this case gets the media attention it deserves,’ she said. ‘I might not have been able to stop what happened to that child, but at least I can ensure justice is done now.’