"Out, damned spot!"

"Feeling a little guilty, Lady Macbeth?" Caroline chuckled as Melanie hunched over the sink and scrubbed at the white polo she'd had on this morning.

"No, I think I'm feeling foolish for eating curry in a white shirt!" Melanie scowled at Caroline, but the corners of her mouth turned upward and the effect was endearing rather than intimidating.

"Mmmm. I thought you were perhaps full of remorse for sending me out in the tempest as your errand girl." She brushed her hand across Melanie's waist, and with an imperious sparkle in her blue eyes leaned in to steal a kiss.

"My conscience is clear, Caroline. You admitted that the walk was charming and romantic."

"I don't think those were my exact words."

"Close enough? I guess I might have embellished. But I hope I mentioned that it defied expectations for takeaway, and I love you to pieces?"

"Yep. You did. Many, many times." Caroline leaned back against the counter behind Melanie and laid her chin in her hand. Everything was so easy between them. She wondered again why Melanie was holding back. Echoes of Kate sounded in her head – her own inability to commit, to give herself fully, and what it had cost her. She'd like to think she was capable of learning from her mistakes. She hadn't held back with Melanie, and she still wasn't getting what she wanted.

"Good." Melanie smiled over her shoulder at her.

Caroline crossed the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around Melanie's waist and laid her head on her shoulder. "Why did we fight yesterday morning?"

"Well." Melanie paused. She set down the shirt and turned to face Caroline. "You mean aside from leaving my towel on the floor of the bathroom?"

"Yes."

"What do we always fight about?"

"You moving in."

Melanie put a finger on her nose. "There you have it." She sighed. "Can't we talk about something more pleasant, like me throwing Celia a birthday party, or Gillian's sex life?"

Caroline stepped back and placed her hands on her hips, cocking them to one side. "It was hard enough to bring this up again. Don't make me regret it."

Melanie closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She frowned. "Caroline no – I don't mean to make you cross. I just don't want to fight again while we're on holiday."

"Well when do you want to fight about it?"

Melanie sighed, and there was more hurt than exasperation in it.

"Caroline, I – "

There was a sharp rap on the front door. They both turned their heads. Caroline looked at Melanie, who shrugged.

"Finish with your shirt. I'll get it."

Another sharp series of knocks.

"Alright I'm coming!"

The weightless buzz in Caroline's head and the pit in her stomach returned as she came through from the living room.

She opened the door of the flat to two young police officers in neon yellow raincoats striped in reflective silver. The grey, sullen day framed them in outline and brought a blinding pop to their bright silhouettes. It was a sight that would turn her stomach the rest of her life.

She instantly thought of Flora – she was well last night, and Caroline hadn't heard from Gillian this morning. Then she thought of her mother and Alan – she'd just texted with them, they were safely at home. There was no good reason for the police to be at the doorstep and it made her even more anxious.

"Hullo ma'am. I'm officer Smith, this is officer Weixel. We're with Sussex police. Do you have a moment?"

"Of course." She stood flat footed, rooted to the floor.

"Alright." The officer on Caroline's left, who had introduced his partner, peered in to the warm, dry entry. It was hard to miss the 'can we come in out of the rain' written in his expression. As he glanced around his eyes stopped over her right shoulder, at the coat rack. He held out his arm against the door.

His tone went from polite inquiry to forceful assertion. "We have some questions we'd like you to answer, ma'am. We'd like to come in."

Caroline frowned and turned to the coat rack to see what provoked the change in his demeanor. Her eyes immediately came to rest on the unknown child's sweater she'd brought home this morning. Out of place among her and Melanie's things and impossible to miss.

Now her anxiety took on a new form, and though she had no reason to feel guilty, she began inventorying all her recent major and minor sins. She had crossed against a light this morning walking to get breakfast. Then there was – the pit in her stomach dissolved – surely this had to do with the Jeep and the fender bender at the car wash.

"Yes. Please come in – I'm so sorry to keep you out in the damp." She shook her head and stepped back, the movement dissolving the rest of her anxiety.

"Thank you ma'am." The pair stepped inside and between their bulk and their wet gear the entryway became close quarters.

Melanie appeared at the other side of the doorway into the living room. She didn't interrupt, but watched them with an intensity of gaze matching the officers' own, and stood close to Caroline.

Officer Smith, who had been taking the lead, continued. "Get right to it then. We've been on a door to door in this area looking for a woman matching your description."

As quickly as it had fled Caroline's anxiety returned. Even absent an accusation she was unsettled to be the object of scrutiny. Alongside anxiety she felt a quiet anger rise. She'd done nothing to warrant this intrusion. Her mouth drew into a thin line and she crossed her arms over her stomach.

"Okay."

He paused – ostensibly waiting to see if Caroline would volunteer additional information to fill the silence. The other man seemed to ignore her, instead doing a bald visual inspection of everything in sight. He tilted his head and tried to look past Melanie further into the flat. She stood squarely in the doorway and did not step aside to accommodate him.

"Can you tell me, ma'am, who that pink sweater over there belongs to? Can't imagine it's either of yours personally."

Caroline's internal war between imagined guilt, fear of bad news, and indignant anger came to a sudden, dazzling end as anger surged forward. Whether it was at her discomfort in how she'd explain why she'd taken the sweater or what she perceived might be a jest on his part was unclear. But there was no hint of amusement on the man's face, and she tamped down her temper and bit her sharp tongue. Mostly.

"Keen powers of observation, there, officer Smith. In fact, it doesn't belong to either one of us. I found it this morning."

He didn't immediately respond and Caroline saw his own ire begin to rise as she held his gaze and he clearly picked up her smart retort. She rebuked herself and again checked her temper. There was absolutely no need to antagonize the Sussex police force.

"Okay ma'am. Can you tell me where you found it?"

"Yep. About three blocks that way – " she pointed in the direction she'd walked this morning. "It'd be north of here. It was in a puddle, by a lamp post."

"Do you remember the street?"

"No I don't, offhand. And can I ask why you're asking?"

A shifting of bodies filled the room with the sound of squeaking boots, and there was throat-clearing all around. The floor was now covered in muddy water. A trail from a puddle under one of the men made it to Caroline, and she frowned down at it as it crept under her sock.

"Did you see a man last night with red hair, stood about 190 centimeters. Large man. He might have had that sweater with him?"

She looked up, and concern shone in her wide eyes. "Yes. I think you're describing someone called Brian who came by."

Caroline was growing weary of the man's weighty pauses each time she spoke. Clearly he was trying to lead her somewhere. Whether he was looking for information from her or whether he was looking for her to confess something incriminating, she couldn't tell.

"So you admit that you saw Brian Shadforth last night?"

"I saw and I spoke with a man called Brian. I don't know his last name."

The officer pulled a mobile from his belt, tapped and turned it toward her. "Is this the man?"

The boy in the picture was certainly the same one from last night. It was cropped in to his face, but she recognized the freckles, the hair, and the eager-to-please eyes.

"Yes, that's the boy I spoke to last night."

"Why did you speak to him?"

It was close in the small room. Warmer and humid now with the three of them stuffed in. Melanie was a silent sentry in the doorway between their odd trio and the rest of the flat.

Caroline maintained her stony silence, but then shook her head and waved her arms. This was ridiculous. She'd done nothing wrong. There was no need for a confrontation.

"Okay. Okay. I'm beginning to grow uncomfortable with this. I don't need to be, but I am. And what I'd like to be is helpful, since Brian struck me as a nice boy and quite clearly something's happened with him. So perhaps we can re-start from there and try this again?"

Officers Smith and Weixel exchanged looks, and this time Weixel replied.

"That would work fine, ma'am. If you have anything you can tell us about Brian Shadforth or that sweater there, it would be appreciated."

"Happy to." Caroline recounted the events of the previous evening, and this time officer Smith took notes and his partner listened.

"So you have no connection to Brian – or the woman, or the girl. Why did you pick up the sweater?"

"I don't know, frankly."

Weixel turned to Melanie. "And were you also here last night, ma'am?"

"I was. But I didn't talk with or see Brian." Melanie broke her silence, but with clipped words.

"Alright." Weixle produced a card and handed it to Caroline. He flipped a page in his notebook. "Can I get full names and mobile numbers for each of you?"

Scribbled notes from both officers. Smith chimed in again. "Don't think this is your permanent residence, is it? Can I get your address – or – addresses?"

His innuendo was salt in the fresh wounds of Caroline's budding disagreement with Melanie.

They gave their separate addresses.

"And we'll take the sweater, ma'am?" Weixel inclined his head.

"Oh. Yes." Caroline grabbed it off the coat hook. It was a soft cotton, the kind that seemed reserved exclusively for children's clothes and expensive cashmere. She paused, held it and looked it over one more time, and finally extended her hand toward the officers.

Smith took it with a curt nod. "Very good, thanks. If you're planning on going anywhere, please let us know first."

"Can I please ask, what's happened with Brian?" These men had come into her home – asked her questions, scared her, and for some reason upset her by leaving with the sweater. She deserved to know what all the fuss was about.

Smith paused with his hand on the door. He met Weixel's eyes and then glanced over at Caroline. "He didn't turn up for work this morning. His mate reported him missing - we're just on it now. Reason to believe he might have run into some trouble. Friend said he'd last seen him headed in this direction, with this sweater, following a woman who matches your description."

"I see." The implication that Caroline had been at least one of the last people to see the missing Brian was clear. The light buzz in her head returned and now she gave a curt nod. "Well I hope he turns up. He seemed like a nice boy."

"Right. We'll be in touch if we need anything else ma'am. And if you think of anything, call us."

Caroline closed the door after them and turned to Melanie.

"Well you're off the hook for now. After that I'm certainly not up for a row. How about we settle in for a movie instead?"

"Can we have popcorn?" With the police gone Melanie's truculent stance softened and her expression grew hopeful.

"I believe the answer is yes on both counts – because someone made sure to grab a bag at the market." Caroline placed a kiss on the tip of Melanie's nose. "But first let's clean up this god-awful mess on the floor."