Free Just What Kind of Mother Are You? by Paula Daly

because, like Joe says, she’s here a lot.’
    ‘What about getting to school the next morning?’ she asks. ‘Would Mrs Riverty just assume you would take the girls?’
    ‘What? Oh, no. Both girls get the minibus. It picks up all the children in Troutbeck and takes them to school each day.’
    ‘What firm is that?’
    ‘South Lakes Taxis,’ I say, and she jots it down.
    ‘Can I ask something?’
    ‘Go ahead.’
    ‘When did Lucinda disappear? Did she make it into school yesterday? Or has she been missing for a full twenty-four hours?’
    ‘We’re almost certain she went missing at the end of the school day. The register was taken at the start of the final lesson and she was marked down as present. But we’re re-checking thatwith the students themselves. Would you say it would be usual for Mrs Riverty to contact her daughter during a sleepover?’
    ‘I would have thought so, knowing Kate.’
    Had Kate tried to call Lucinda and not received a reply? It happened often enough with Sally. The first few times we went ballistic, but then, like I’m sure most parents of teenagers do, with time, we let it go.
    I choose my battles with Sally carefully and I gave up on this one a while back, probably around the time I gave up on nagging about the state of her bedroom.
    ‘Kate sent a text to Lucinda, but it went unanswered,’ DC Aspinall says. ‘And I wondered if, as a parent, that would make you worried enough to call? To try to make contact with the parents?’
    I thought about this. Could she really be putting some blame on Kate for not following up on a text?
    ‘There have been times when Sally has stayed over with Lucinda and she’s not replied to my texts. Girls get giddy, they get carried away in whatever it is they’re doing. You know what it’s like.’
    Seemingly, DC Aspinall doesn’t know, because she makes no gesture of agreement.
    ‘But, to be honest,’ I say, ‘because I know she’s with Kate, I’ve never really worried about her if she’s at Lucinda’s. Perhaps if Sally stays at someone else’s house, perhaps if she’s with a friend I know less well, maybe that would make me call the parents and check on her.’
    This seems to satisfy, because DC Aspinall stops with this line of questioning and she goes on to ask me about what sort of girl Lucinda is. Could she be hiding anything from her parents? When I sense we’re done I ask the thing I’ve wanted to know since she walked in.
    ‘What do you think’s happened to her?’
    ‘Impossible to say,’ she replies.
    ‘But if you had to say. If you had to call it one way or another, would you say you thought Lucinda—’
    ‘At this stage we’re exploring every avenue.’
    I nod. A large part of me has been hoping to hear DC Aspinall say she thought Lucinda was a runaway. Then my guilt wouldn’t be quite so all-encompassing. But of course Lucinda hasn’t left of her own accord. Why on earth would she?
    ‘One last thing,’ DC Aspinall says, matter-of-fact, as she goes to stand. ‘We’ll be needing an account of your whereabouts, both of you … from around three o’clock yesterday afternoon.’

‘So, Charles,’ – the estate agent regards him, blinks – ‘are you wanting to view properties like this one? Properties right on the lake? Or are you open to anything?’
    ‘I’d prefer something with lake access if possible. Actually, I’d really like a boathouse – but I suppose if the right property came along then I’d be happy to go for anything— ’
    ‘I understand,’ she says, nodding. ‘Though I’m sure you’re going to love this one – it is exceptional.’
    He hangs back as she unlocks the front door and deals with the alarm. No one home then, he notes. Once she’s inside the hallway, she turns, beaming at him, waiting for him to ooh and aah. Waiting for him to gush about the oak panelling and the original features. As if she herself had some hand in building the thing .
    ‘Impressive,’ he says, to appease