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fault."
    “Cunt! Prick!” shouted Kimberley after him, giving the wall a violent kick. “Fucking little coward!” She turned a red, angry face towards Laura, shoulders hunched like a boxer's. But there were tears in her eyes, as if she knew she'd just lost the only person who had ever been loyal to her.
    Police Message to all stations >27.07.01 >18.53 IMMEDIATE ACTION Missing Person Laura Biddulph/Rogerson of 14 Allenby Road, Portisfield, reports 10-yr-old daughter missing Child's name: Amy Rogerson (answers to: Biddulph) Height: 4' 10"
    approx. Weight: 60 Ib approx. Description: slim, long brown hair dressed in blue T-shirt and black leggings Last seen by neighbour leaving 14 Allenby Road at 10.00 May be making for father's house in Sandbanks Road, Bournemouth Father's name: Martin Rogerson Nottfy all vehicles beat personnel Further information to follow ... Police Message to all stations >27.07.01 >21.00 UPDATE Missing Person Amy Rogerson/Biddulph May be making for The Larches, Hayes Avenue, Southampton Resident there with mother for six months until April Owner occupier Edward Townsend temporarily absent on holiday Notify all vehicles beat personnel Further information to follow ...
     

Five.
    Saturday 28 July 2001 - 14 Allenby Road, Portisfield Estate 01.15 a.m.
    RELATIONSHIPS INSIDE 14 Allenby Road had broken down completely, and the policewoman in charge of support and counselling suggested moving Laura Biddulph to a vacant 'safe' house to prevent war breaking out.
    Irrationally, in view of the emerging evidence that Amy had been vanishing every day during the past two weeks, only to return home at night, Laura had clung to the hope that she was with her father. But when she was informed that a search of Martin Rogerson's house had produced nothing and the police were satisfied he had been at his office in Bournemouth all day, hope gave way to fear and she turned on Gregory and his children.
    She lashed them viciously with her tongue, and police curiosity about what she was doing there grew. Even the least critical among them could see there was a glaring disparity in age, class, education and physical attraction between her and Gregory Logan and, while there was no accounting for chemistry, her openly expressed revulsion for him and his family gave the lie to any close feeling between them. As the night passed she became more and more distant, sitting huddled against the kitchen door and denying admittance to anyone except police personnel. Red-eyed with exhaustion, she cradled a radio in her lap and lifted her head with a jerk every time Amy's name was mentioned.
    When the counsellor suggested she go upstairs for some much-needed rest, she gave a small laugh and said it wouldn't be wise. Unless the police wanted Kimberley Logan dead, of course.
    The girl's noise was getting on everyone's nerves. With apparently limitless energy, she had bawled on and off for hours to a second WPC about how no one loved her, how miserable her life was and how she had never meant to hurt anyone. She refused to leave her room, refused to be sedated and could not, or would not, give any information about where Amy had been during the last two weeks, saying it wasn't her fault if the girl had lied about being with Patsy Trew.
    Her brother sat morosely in front of the television, stuffing his face with imported police sandwiches and claiming it was Kimberley who was lying. According to him, she had known since Wednesday that Amy wasn't with her friend. Patsy had come to the door a fact borne out by Patsy herself saying she hadn't seen Amy for days and wanted to know where she was. Kimberley had told her to 'fuck off' because it was none of her business. “Amy doesn't like you any more,” she'd told the child giggling when Patsy burst into tears and ran away. "Jesus, Amy's a sad little bitch,“ she'd told Barry on her return to the sitting-room. ”I bet she's skulking in a hole somewhere so she can pretend she's got friends. No