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The midwife squirts gel onto Belinda’s stomach and starts the ultrasound. Luke grips Elliott’s hand tighter, his expression a mix of excitement and worry. Elliott envies his husband, wishes he felt something in this moment other than numb.
As the midwife talks them through what they’re seeing on-screen – the baby’s growth, her heartbeat, and the estimate of her current weight – Elliott finds himself zoning out. Lottie had texted him earlier to tell him about the candlelit vigil she’s organised in the park this evening. He’d said he didn’t know if he could make it, but Lottie had kicked off – calling him and crying down the phone that he had to be there. She said it wouldn’t be right if he didn’t come; that he’d be letting Hannah down. And in the end, she’d guilt-tripped him into saying he’d be there.
He regrets it now. God knows how he’s going to get away.
There’s also the fact the police have asked him to go in for a formal interview. Lottie mentioned they’d interviewed her and that she’d had a message from Rob saying he was going in to see them earlier today, so it seems as if it’s routine, but he doesn’t get why they need to talk to him again; they’ve already questioned him once. It’s strange, but Jennie must have a reason. She’s always been smart.
Luke squeezes his hand hard, and Elliott looks up, pulled back into the maternity room. Belinda is wiping the gel off her stomach. The midwife is tapping something onto her computer.
‘That’s great news, isn’t it?’ says Luke, his eyes shining, and his voice overly bright.
Elliott, wrong-footed but trying to cover it, nods vigorously as he forces a smile. ‘Yes, absolutely. The best.’
They order a celebratory supper at Carrot!, a trendy vegan organic place that Belinda is keen to try out. It’s all huge multi-pane industrial-style windows, stripped white oak floorboards, pale oak banquet seating with powder-blue cushions, and slate-grey feature walls with hanging macrame plant holders and trailing green foliage. It’s a bit overly bright for Elliott’s liking, but he doesn’t say anything and nods along as Luke and Belinda get increasingly animated over the modern art canvases on the back wall, depicting stylised vegetables, and the candy-coloured chairs and matching crockery.
They order the hummus sharing plate to start, followed by avocado salads and a side order of sweet potato fries to share. But as Belinda and Luke chatter about the baby, Elliott feels as if he’s watching the scene from afar, like some weird out-of-body experience.
‘So I think we’ve settled on her name,’ says Luke, looking towards Elliott. ‘Can I tell Belinda?’
‘You have to tell me,’ says Belinda, laughing as she removes her napkin from across the lap of the floral maxi dress she’s wearing.
‘Sure, of course,’ replies Elliott. He knows he should sound more excited, and it hurts him to see the fleetingly concerned look that Luke gives him, but he feels so flat, so weird.
‘It’s Martha,’ says Luke, his voice sounding a little nervous as he says out loud the name they’d agreed on. He runs his hand through his blond hair, twiddling the front up into a quiff. ‘Do you approve?’
Belinda reaches out and clutches Luke’s hand. ‘Oh, that’s so darling.’
‘Isn’t it?’ says Luke, grinning, the relief clear on his face.
‘It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect,’ says Belinda, rubbing her belly. ‘Little Martha.’
Luke looks at Elliott and he nods. It is the perfect name.
Still smiling, Belinda gets up from the table. ‘Now, if you’ll just excuse me for a moment. Nature calls, because little Martha insists on sitting right on my bladder.’
As Belinda heads to the loos, Elliott takes a gulp of his wine and tries to figure out how he’s going to mange to leave here in half an hour in order to get to the park vigil on time. Lottie was adamant he shouldn’t be late, but the service in Carrot! is super slow, and he doubts they’ll even have their mains by then.
‘What the hell is wrong with you?’
Luke’s tone cuts through Elliott’s thoughts, jerking him back into the restaurant. ‘Nothing, I’m just—’
‘Don’t give me that crap, you’ve been on another planet the whole day.’ Luke glares at him, accusingly. ‘You were super rude to the midwife, and you’re barely acknowledging Belinda. I mean, after all she’s doing for us, surely you could force yourself to engage?’
‘Yes, I … I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot of my mind at the moment.’ Elliott hates to upset Luke, and he can see from the way his husband’s eyes are watery and his lower lip quivers that he’s really upset. ‘I’m here now. I promise.’
Luke frowns. ‘Are you, though?’
‘Of course,’ says Elliott, but even as he says it, his own voice sounds fake to him. ‘One hundred per cent.’
Luke takes a breath. ‘Look, I have no idea what’s going on with you, whether it’s cold feet, or some kind of regret that we’re not twenty-five and partying, or what. But whatever it is, you need to snap the hell out of it. We’re finally going to be parents. The least you can do is act as if you bloody well care.’
Chapter 23
It’s really quite something. As the sun sinks below the hills and darkness takes hold, hundreds of candles illuminate the park. Jennie padlocks her bike to the park railings and walks across the grass towards the bandstand. It’s amazing how many people have turned out to be part of the vigil. Some are a similar age to her, so perhaps they went to the school and remember Hannah. Some are older, parents of kids who attended the school perhaps. But many are younger, people who would’ve barely been born when Hannah went missing.
There are a few uniformed officers hanging back, keeping an eye on things, and over to the far side of the crowd there look to be a few journalist types. The mood is sombre and peaceful.
Secured to the rail around the bandstand, a huge poster of Hannah looks down on the gathered crowd. Flowers and teddy bears have been laid around the bottom of the poster. There are so many roses, hundreds of them; pinks and whites and yellows. As Jennie watches, a woman in a black maxi dress and silver flip-flops kneels down in front of the poster and places a bouquet of white lilies on the grass. As the woman turns away, Jennie catches a proper look at her tear-stained face and realises with a jolt that it’s Becky Mead, one of her sixth-form nemeses. Despite the situation, she can’t help smiling to herself: Hannah would’ve loved all these people coming out here for her, especially the mean girls.
