Without a Trace by Lesley Pearse

since he’d hit her. He hadn’t apologized, not even when her eye was black and swollen and she had weals on her cheek and neck, but he had let her stay upstairs until the swelling went down without saying anything nasty again. It was tempting to think he felt bad about attacking her as, even when she went back to work, he restocked the shelves in the shop, a job he normally left to her, and unpacked several deliveries, too – he hadn’t even admonished her when she’d forgotten some orders, but she thought it was more likely he was just brooding and waiting for an excuse to pounce again.
    ‘I’ve borrowed Dad’s car,’ George said, pointing out the green Austin A40 Devon which was parked by the churchyard gates. ‘He said if I scratch it he’ll wring my neck.’
    Molly smiled. Very few ordinary people in the village had cars yet, and she’d often seen people admiring Mr Walsh’s when he parked it outside the pub or the post office. She felt quite honoured to be getting a ride in it.
    ‘We’ll have lunch at the pub I’m taking you to,’ George said as he drove away from the high street. ‘I always think that after something distressing you need food to lift your spirits.’
    Molly half smiled. George was always making rather odd remarks and she rarely knew how to respond to them. ‘Did you find the funeral distressing, then?’ she asked.
    ‘In as much as there were no family there to mourn Cassie,’ he said. ‘I hardly knew her, unlike you, but it is tragic for someone so young, with so much to live for, to lose their life in such an awful way. As for all the sadness and mystery about Petal, that’s really getting to me. I know you don’t believe we’re doing anything about it down the nick, but I promise you I’ll be keeping it in the forefront of everyone’s mind.’
    ‘So what would be your plan?’
    ‘Well, it seems to me that one thing I could do is to try and find out what Cassie’s real name was. I’ve already spoken to Miss Goddard, the headmistress, and asked her if she saw Petal’s birth certificate when she enrolled her at the school. But she didn’t. Miss Goddard said she asked Cassie to bring it in, but she said she had mislaid it. Unfortunately, Miss Goddard didn’t chase it up. I’d say Cassie had made up both their names, and she’d only do that if she was running from something or someone.’
    ‘What do you mean, “from something”? Something illegal?’
    ‘Possibly, or maybe she got involved with villains and found out stuff they didn’t want her to know. But I have other questions, too. What did she live on? Do you know?’
    ‘No, I don’t. She might have got some national assistance, I suppose, but she always struck me as too proud for that, and as the kind of person who manages on very little.’
    George glanced round at her. ‘However careful she was, she’d still need some money. I think she got it on her weekly trip to Bristol.’
    ‘Out of a bank, you mean?’
    ‘No, Molly, from some kind of work. But what kind of job only requires you to be there one day a week?’
    ‘She did cleaning.’
    ‘I don’t think that would pay enough to keep herself and Petal.’
    ‘So how do you think she got by?’
    ‘Prostitution?’
    Molly was shocked and surprised by him. ‘No, she wouldn’t do that,’ she said indignantly.
    ‘You’re being a bit illogical, not to say naïve,’ he said with a shrug. ‘You told me about Cassie’s lovers, and that she had very liberal ideas, compared with most women. You even said she had sex with a man she’d just met in the library.’
    ‘Yes, but she wouldn’t do it for money.’
    ‘Why wouldn’t she?’
    Molly thought about that for a little while. She had never seen a prostitute, but she had always imagined them as raddled-looking women with tight clothes and too much make-up standing on street corners in slum areas of the cities.
    ‘Cassie just wasn’t the type to do that,’ she said at length.
    George chuckled.