Page 67 of The Other Side

He sighed. “I’m not supposed to use this vehicle for anything other than police work.”

“You have to get home when you’ve done for the day, don’t you? I don’t think they’re going to get bent out of shape if you eat on the way back.”

“Yeah, they will. Driving a service vehicle while off duty can lead to disciplinary action. Plus, if I’m seen in the car and in uniform, I’ll be perceived as still being on duty, even though I’m not.”

“So no pub.”

“No, sorry. And pretty soon, probably no more job.”

Osian glanced at him.

Drum shrugged. “I was Matthew’s replacement. Once he’s fit for duty, he’ll have his job back.”

“It won’t be straightaway, though.”

“No. So is that gate any use to us?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t recognise anything but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s a way in we could use, I just wish I knew what sort of reception you’d get.”

“Maybe you should go back on your own and find out.”

“No. We go together.” Though Osian knew Drum could be right.

Drum glanced across. “So who was feeding him and the dog?”

“I don’t know. At least they didn’t hurt him.”

“Nor did they let him leave. Are they going to be pissed off that he’s gone?”

“I don’t know.”

Drum pulled into the garage when they returned.

“Could you make us something to eat while I do my report?” Drum asked, killing the engine.

“I can do that.”

“Maybe you could read it through when I’m done.” Drum leaned back against his seat. “I don’t know what Matthew is going to say, so I need to be careful. They’re more likely to accept my version than his, though. He’s going to come across as incredibly confused. Even if he remembers everything, he won’t be believed.”

Inside, Drum sat at the table while Osian prepared the food: lightly smoked salmon and a brown rice salad. There was a bottle of white wine in the fridge and Osian poured them each a glass. He tossed the base ingredients for the salad into a bowl: pumpkin seeds, sultanas, chopped red pepper, sweetcorn, and toasted cashews, and whisked together a soy sauce dressing. Once the rice finished cooking, he’d mix it all up.

He was just about to check on the rice when Drum’s phone rang. He turned and Drum pressed a finger to his lips.

“Yes, ma’am… I’m literally writing it now… Yes, ma’am… I have no idea… As soon as I can, ma’am.”

He tossed the phone aside with a sigh. “Come and read what I’ve got so far.”

Osian pulled up a chair beside him.

After leaving the wild swimmer, I walked along the riverbank for approximately half a mile. Hearing a dog bark, I moved toward the sound and spotted a man standing in a meadow. As I approached, I realised he was wearing a PCSO uniform. Although I hadn’t been formally notified of Matthew Green’s disappearance, a local resident in Stoney Middleton, Lily Edwards, had previously mentioned it to me, leading me to wonder if this was him.

The individual reacted when addressed as Matthew Green and pointed out that we wore the same uniform. PCSO Green appeared highly confused; he seemed to believe he had been missing for only a matter of days, rather than months, and expressed severe distress at how worried his wife would be. Taking his fragile state of mind into consideration, alongside the fact that he appeared physically uninjured, I determined it would be best to transport him directly home to be interviewed in a comfortable, familiar environment. I proceeded to do so. And returned the dog to its owner.

“That sounds fine.” Osian went back to check the rice.

“Except it might all fall apart if Matthew talks about that house, the food, the meadow, walking in circles…or you.”

“It might but what you’ve written is good.” He drained the rice. “You just have to stick to your version.”