Page 96 of Cover Story

Bel left Connor eating toast in front of her laptop, watching January’s comings and goings from the Victorian villa in the ironically titled Honour Road.

‘How big is the Tesco delivery the baby shower got? There’s me thinking they were sober affairs …’ Connor saw she was dressed, bag over shoulder and phone in hand. ‘You going now?’

‘Sooner I get this over with the better,’ Bel said. The taxi beeped downstairs and Connor seemed wrongfooted by the speed she took off at. Tamara had told her: if there’s a difficult thing to face, face it fast.

As the car reached the outskirts of Didsbury– pavement tables, awnings dripping with last night’s downpour, Mock-Tudor red bricks– Connor messaged: ‘Free for a quick word in private if I call? Still in taxi?’

Bel replied yes and yes. The driver had earbuds in, Perspex glass between them, and she judged it low-risk.

‘Hi. He’s not on here,’ Connor said.

‘What?’

‘The Mayor. There’s tons of unknown couples of varying ages, and sometimes younger women on their own, but absolutely nothing of Bailey.’

‘Are you sure it’s not that you’re not recognising him? Have you searched in April, when he was there with Erin?’

‘End to end. No Mayor. I am hazy on what Erin looks like, but don’t think she’s on it either. You can see for yourself when you get back. There’s a thing called Event Delete where you can go in and scrub specific sections from Ring Doorbell recordings. They must’ve been extra careful and done that. Or your sources have been spinning you along.’

‘No way,’ Bel said, bringing Erin in Ian’s house to mind. ‘Not a chance.’

‘Afraid those are your two choices.’

‘Shit.I’ve got the prospect of being handcuffed on arrival at Ci Vediamo and now I know it’s for nothing.’

‘How far away are you?’

‘Two or three minutes max.’

‘OK, in five minutes I’ll drop you a WhatsApp saying hi. If you hit any emoji reaction to it at all I’ll assume all’s good. If you don’t respond I will take it that it’s not so good, and come over.’

‘Hah! Connor that’s so considerate, but what would they do? Set Gertie on me?’

‘I don’t take your gung-ho approach to risk, so there we go. Five minutes. Keep your phone close and don’t forget to check, because I’ll take forgetting to mean the same thing as an SOS until I know different.’

‘I won’t. Thank you.’

She was grateful for Connor’s caution, even if it increased her anxiety. She had no idea how Amber would take this. Bel guessed she’d be gracious in the moment and more irritated and suspicious the more she thoughton it. If so, that was fine; Bel only needed the moment.

Bel got out of the taxi and looked up at the tall narrow blue neon letters that spelled out CI VEDIAMO, taking a deep breath of crisp mid-morning, late summer air. The palm trees outside were draped with fairy lights as yet unlit, like cobwebs, the tables and chairs not yet out. She pushed on the door that was usually wedged open.

Ted with the moustache was behind the bar, cleaning glasses, Radio One booming out from unseen speakers. There were no customers.

‘We’ve only just opened if you want to take a seat and I’ll bring the menu? Coffee machine’s waking up.’

‘It’s me, Amber’s friend? Bella?’

‘Oh yeah, hi there,’ he said, as she drew closer.

Amber appeared, in vest top and velour tracksuit bottoms.

‘Hey, good morning, what are you doing here at this hour? How’s the head?’ Amber said, throwing a tea towel over her shoulder.

‘Head is so-so, my knapsack of disgrace is worse.’

‘Knapsack of what? Hope that’s not a euphemism.’

‘I can’t remember anything from about 10.00 p.m. onwards. However– I can’t entirely blame alcohol for my “stealing for no reason” tic, that comes from Grandpa Bob. When he died they found his garage full of fenced goods. I am absolutely crucified over this …’

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