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something she either didn’t notice or didn’t care about. Rather than tackle the inaccuracy of the question, as she would have promptly done had it come from her husband or one of her friends, Sarah opted for simply saying no. If everyone who watched cop dramas on TV spent a day with a forensics team, they’d soon realise that the real magic of the shows is how they transformed a very tedious and repetitive job into a successful television programme. ‘What, none?’
    ‘Nothing I can comment on, Grace.’ This had to stop soon. ‘Okay, I have to continue my enquiries, so I’ll –’
    ‘Nothing you can comment on? That’s not the same as nothing, is it?’ said Tom. ‘So what did you find?’ She’d slipped up and he’d been there to undermine her. ‘Is there something you’re not telling us, Officer?’
    ‘I’m considering a lot of things and I don’t want to speculate too soon on any particular aspects.’ Just two years in the public sector and she’d heard enough speeches from senior officers, politicians and legal advisors to be able to talk a lot whilst saying very little.
    ‘Do you think he’s still alive?’ asked Sean, to raucous noise from the crowd. It was the question they all wanted to ask, with the possible answer no one wanted to hear.
    ‘There’s nothing to suggest otherwise.’
    ‘What do you plan to do?’ he asked.
    ‘Well, first of all, I want to gather all the information I can about him and then…then, I’ll organise a search of the woods this afternoon. If he liked to walk there, it’s possible he misjudged the start of the storm and was caught outside when it started,’ she said, realising she was rambling a little bit.
    ‘When are they sorting the roads out? I’ve got two kids to look after,’ said a woman in the third row, holding one of them for effect.
    ‘I’m not in touch with my colleagues at the moment. I’m sure they’re doing their best.’ How was she supposed to know with the masts out?
    ‘I’ve got a pain in my back. I think it’s from lack of movement. What do you suggest I do?’ said an older man.
    ‘Erm, maybe walk it out?’
    ‘I think my cat’s missing.’
    ‘You think?’ she said, ‘You could –’
    ‘Thank you, officer. Sarah. I’ll let you go now,’ said Tom. I’ll let you go indeed, she thought, although she was grateful for the break.
    She walked back to her seat as Tom closed the gathering. She needed to collect her thoughts. So much for blending in - that speech just made her the most recognisable face in Sunbury. She was expected to find Father Michael and alleviate the concerns of an entire village, without help or guidance. She’d just finished her probationary period. She was supposed to be taking her first drive out in a patrol car alone, just to get used to the feeling, and be independently investigating her first small caseloads: broken windows and theft of Mars bars, that sort of thing. But here she was, giving speeches on the fly and co-ordinating a large-scale investigation all by herself. It was an effect of the uniform.
    Despite the ever- increasing bad press and negative sentiment, when people needed help, they called the police. That, of course, came with an expectation, an expectation that the officer that arrives knows what to do, regardless of the situation or their level of experience. They were looking to her to find Father Michael safe and well, a prospect that was becoming less and less likely the more time wore on, as well as solve all their minor gripes and groans. Even if she had won the crowd over, Tom had noticed her vulnerability. In fact, he’d played on it, not wanting to be upstaged by someone else. The uniform put a bull’s-eye on your back. You went from being a regular citizen to the big guy in the bar everyone wants to take a pop at, and he’d made it clear Sarah just strolled into his saloon.
    The crowd lingered in the hall and she nudged her way through, took hold of John’s arm and pulled