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‘How did you feel when you heard?’
Mum didn’t look at me. She busied herself chasing a chip around her plate, scooping up the tomato sauce. ‘I felt physically sick. I cried for two days. I just couldn’t believe it. It didn’t make any sense.’
‘What was he like when you were going out with him?’
‘I’m not sure.’ She sighed. ‘I thought he was a sweet boy, but, like I said, he was quite possessive at times. He also…’ She stopped and returned to playing with her food.
‘What?’
‘Once, we were out in his van, and this bloke cut us up. His face just drained of colour. He went mad. I honestly thought he was going to tear after him. I had to tell him to pull over and calm down.’
‘He had a violent temper?’
‘That was the only time I witnessed anything like that in him. I just put it down to him having a bad day.’
‘Something must have happened to him for him to…’
‘Evidently, but I wasn’t in contact with him. His mother made sure of that.’
I looked at the slice of pizza halfway to my mouth and threw it back down in the box. I’d lost my appetite. I needed a drink, not tea or coffee. I needed wine, gin, vodka, turps, anything to numb the raw emotions rising to the surface. Why couldn’t Mum have an emergency bottle of Chardonnay in the fridge or a bottle of Stoli in the freezer, for crying out loud? I went over to the sink and filled a glass with cold water. I took a long drink. It didn’t have the same effect as alcohol, but it would do. For now.
‘What did he do to her?’ I asked, leaning against the sink and looking at my mum at the table.
‘Dawn, you don’t need to know that.’
‘Mum, I’m going to be googling him tomorrow anyway to find out everything I can, so you may as well tell me.’
Mum threw her chips on the plate and wiped her hands on a piece of kitchen roll. She had a pained expression on her face like she was struggling to find the right words to use.
‘He kidnapped her from around the back of the shops in Winlaton.’
I felt sick again. I looked down and saw the water in the glass wobbling. My hand was shaking.
‘Did he… you know… abuse her?’
‘No,’ Mum answered quickly and firmly. ‘There was no evidence of sexual assault.’
‘How did he kill her?’
‘Dawn…’
‘Mum, I need to know.’
‘I think she was strangled. I’m not one hundred per cent sure.’
‘But… why?’
‘Dawn, I’ve absolutely no idea. All this time I’ve told myself that something must have snapped, and he just lost his mind. I don’t know if it’s possible to do that; I’m not a psychologist. I can’t answer your questions. I’m sorry.’
‘Did you ever visit him in prison?’
‘Of course I didn’t.’
‘Did he ever contact you?’
‘No.’
‘Didn’t he want to see me?’
