Page 55 of Maybe Tomorrow

‘I feel sick, Leo.’ Her bottom lip began to wobble, and she sniffled back the tears desperately trying to fall. ‘I don’t… I…’ She was unsure what to say, but her head was full of questions. ‘I just want to scream.’

‘It’s difficult to take in, I know,’ Leo said, quietly. ‘Look, I think the best thing we can do right now is to try and get a good solicitor. They’ll know all the ins and outs. They can advise us on what to do next.’

‘I don’t know any solicitors.’

‘We could use that firm I used when that council bin lorry knocked down my wall. Different scenario, I know, but they’ll have someone who specialises in crimes like this.’

‘Why wouldn’t they let me see him?’ Pauline asked. She picked up her handbag from the floor, rummaged inside for a tissue, and blew her nose loudly.

‘I don’t know. I’m not sure how these things work,’ Leo said.

‘He’ll be so scared in a police cell on his own.’

‘Pauline…’ Leo was interrupted by a loud bang on the front door. ‘Do you want me to get it?’

‘No. I’ll go.’ Pauline rose from the sofa and went out into the hallway. Usually, she checked her appearance in the mirror by the door but didn’t bother this time. She opened the front door to find six men standing on her doorstep.

‘Pauline Winstanley?’

‘Yes,’ she said, cautiously, looking from one to the other in the dim light.

‘DI Henry Bishop. North East Police. I have here a warrant signed by a magistrate to search your property for anything that may help in the case against your son.’ He handed her the sheet of paper and made his way into the house without being asked.

‘But…’

‘All legal and above board, Mrs Winstanley. Osborne, you and Tyler go upstairs. Start with his bedroom. Ritter, take Davis and Allen into the living room. Now, Mrs Winstanley, we need to have a word,’ Bishop said with a crooked smile.

In the kitchen, Pauline listened to the sounds of her house being torn apart. She asked Bishop, repeatedly, what they were looking for, saying she’d be able to help if he let her. He replied that his men were professionals and knew what they were looking for. Bishop had also tried to persuade Leo to go home, but Pauline was adamant she wanted him to stay. So, he set about making Pauline a cup of tea and made a point of not asking Bishop and his team if they wanted one.

‘Can I call you Pauline?’ Bishop asked, getting a notebook out and rummaging in his pockets for a biro. Pauline nodded. ‘We’ve arrested your son for the rape and murder of Alice Patterson on Monday the tenth of October this year.’ Pauline winced at the accusation. ‘Can you tell me what time Anthony came home that evening?’

‘I don’t recall off the top of my head.’

‘Was it early or late?’

She swallowed hard. ‘It was late-ish. He’d been down to the front to watch the storm.’

‘On his own?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is that something he’d done before?’

‘Yes. He likes bad weather.’

‘Why?’

‘He finds it interesting. He’s always been keen on storms and winter. Hasn’t he, Leo?’ she asked, looking pleadingly towards Leo who placed a mug of tea in front of her.

‘Yes,’ Leo said with a hint of smile. ‘After a heavy snowfall, we often go for a drive out on the moors. He loves it.’

‘Did you notice anything different about him on that night, Pauline?’ Bishop asked.

‘No.’

‘What did he look like when he came home?’

‘Well, he was wet, obviously.’