She rolls over in the bed, onto her back, and stares up at the ceiling. Something is bothering her. It’s not just her nephew, that’s a given. It’s something else, a separate strain of anxiety. She looks at the clock on her bedside table: 8.45 a.m. She got home at around three. Yvonne and Michelle had taken charge of things, so there wasn’t much point in her sticking around any longer. Besides, she had to get home and change. She called a taxi at 2.30. Her mind freezes for a second. Then she remembers what’s bothering her. Noel. He’d told her outside the house that he had to go and meet someone and would be gone thirty minutes, forty-five at the most, but by the time Gina was leaving nearly three hours later he still hadn’t shown up. Yvonne tried him on his mobile a couple of times, but got through to his voicemail. Catherine really seemed to need Noel and kept asking, in between sobs, where he was, so instead of anyone getting worried about the fact that he hadn’t come back, they got increasingly annoyed about it.
