Elizabeth Is Missing by Emma Healey Page B

the ground. “I really can’t believe that Sukey would have gone along with anything criminal,” he said.
    I kept my eyes lowered and fiddled with the handle of my cup, remembering Sukey’s fur collars and new snakeskin bag, the boxes of British Army rations in the old stables and all the extra food we had for dinner whenever she and Frank came round.
    “Well, no, it would hardly be worth running, anyway,” the policeman said, reaching for another bit of cake. “There’s not much of a case, if I’m honest. But if it’s not that, then . . .”
    “Then Frank’s done something to her and made a break for it,” Dad said.
    “Frank never would!” Ma said, jumping up and throwing her teaspoon into the sink.
    Dad lifted his head to look at her and must have caught sight of Douglas in the hallway, because he called his name. “This is Sergeant Needham, Douglas, come about Sukey. Sergeant, this is our lodger.”
    Douglas stepped down into the kitchen, leaning awkwardly against the shelves by the door. He nodded at the sergeant and then shook his head when Ma offered him some tea.
    “Did I hear you talking about Frank?” he said, turning his head sideways and tugging at the hem of his pullover.
    “Yes,” said the sergeant. “Mrs. Palmer here doesn’t think he can have anything to do with her daughter’s disappearance.”
    “Doesn’t she?” Douglas asked, looking at Ma where she stood, still facing the sink. “Well, I do. He’s a jealous man, is Frank. Got a temper on him, too.”
    “Jealous, is he?” said the sergeant. “Why’s that then? Anything to do with you, is it?”
    “No,” Douglas said, pronouncing the short word slowly and carefully. “But Sukey’s told me he can be jealous.” Douglas kept his eyes fixed on the sergeant. His face seemed stiff, like a mask, and I had the mad idea that when he spoke he did it without moving his lips. “Jumps to the wrong conclusions, she’s said.”
    Dad took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them over his face, and Ma turned and leant back against the sink, gripping the edge behind her. I wondered why Sukey would tell Douglas anything and why she hadn’t told me. I wondered if it was true. “When did Sukey say that?” I asked, not meaning to. Immediately, Dad told me I should go upstairs.
    “This is no discussion for you,” he said.
    I left the table, but lingered at the top of the steps up to the hallway. The kitchen looked cosy and bright, the light from the range competing with the overhead lamp. I could almost believe it was a normal family tea, with the cups out and the teapot steaming. Except, of course, there was a policeman in Ma’s usual place, finishing off the cake and writing things down in a little book.
    “Yes, when did she tell you that?” he asked Douglas, turning a page of the notebook.
    “Lots of times. She told me lots of times, Sergeant,” he said. “Over the summer . . .” I could only see a section of him, from chest down, but his arm moved and I guessed he’d shrugged.
    “What, when she came for dinner?” Ma asked, her legs still visible against the cupboard under the sink. “I never heard her.”
    Douglas’s pink jaw jutted out below the top of the door frame as he bent forward, and I thought he was going to say something, but the sergeant swallowed the last dregs of his tea and scraped back his chair.
    “Time I was off,” he said. He pushed his cup away, wrote something in his notebook, and stood up. “Thanks for the tea, Mrs. Palmer. I will let you know if anything presents itself. But don’t worry. People are moving around all the time at the moment. Can’t keep still. More than likely they’ve gone off to try another town for a bit and will be back when they realize everywhere’s the same. Anyway, the law’ll catch up with Frank before long.”
    He stood on the spot for a few more seconds, facing Douglas, before following Dad to the front door. I moved quickly into the sitting room and heard Ma