All the Little Things by Sarah Lawton (the best books to read txt) 📕

later to speak to her. Vivian was the last person to see her, as far as we know.’

I felt Alex go still for a moment; he closed his eyes.

‘Are they doing searches?’

‘No, not yet, I don’t think.’

‘And they want to question Vivian? Do you think the police think she might have something to do with it?’

I sat up. ‘What! Alex, no, of course not! What on earth would make you say that?’ He looked at me sideways, pressed his lips together as if he wanted to say more. He reached up and pulled me back down beside him, pulling the sheet up to cover us.

‘What is she like?’ he asked, before pressing his lips to a sensitive spot on my neck.

‘Who, Molly? She’s lovely, I don’t know why—’

‘No, not Molly – Vivian. What is Vivian like? Are you close?’ I wasn’t sure I felt comfortable talking about Vivian with Alex – in fact, it felt horrible, like I was betraying her somehow – but he looked at me and I had a strange sense that it was somehow important to him, and it made me honest. ‘Yes, we’re close. It’s only the two of us. She’s very much her own person though, I guess. She’s happy here, she has lovely friends – when they aren’t running off, anyway. She’s extraordinarily clever, but naïve at the same time. I wonder if she knows as much about the world as she thinks she does, sometimes.’

‘When was she not happy? It sounds like she’s happy now but wasn’t before.’

I wriggled around to face him, to look at him. ‘No, she wasn’t. She had a very bad time at her old primary school. She never told me that she was being bullied, but my mother knew – she tried to tell me about it, but I was so busy all the time, I let things slip. The other children didn’t like her for some reason. I think when you’re as smart as she is from a young age it can make you seem a bit odd to other kids, who aren’t quite there yet. And she’s always been very small for her age, easy to push around.’

‘She didn’t have any friends at all?’

‘Only one, for a while. It became quite intense, and it didn’t end well. We moved here to get a fresh start. Everything has been fine since we lived here, we’ve both been happy here.’ Despite my words I could feel my throat tightening as I thought about everything that was happening, what I was doing that could ruin that happiness, the stupid, addictive affair we were having and what Vivian might do if she found out about it.

‘Didn’t end well?’ The odd tone in his voice unnerved me, tipped me over the edge. ‘What did your mother know? Did she… oh, shit, Rachel, please don’t cry. I’m sorry, please…’ I couldn’t stop the tears, even as he tried to kiss them away. What would my mother think about what I was doing? Letting Vivian down again. I forced my reply out.

‘No, I’m sorry, darling. She died, just before we had to leave London. It was an awful shock. We lived with her, Vivian and me. It broke me, then there was an accident at school, it was just too much. I can’t…’

‘Shh, it’s fine, I’m so sorry, Rachel – I shouldn’t have asked. I’m the first person to know you shouldn’t ask about family, believe me.’ He kissed me, kissed my cheeks until my tears stopped, and we were quiet after that, both lost in our own thoughts.

Vivian

The police are at my house when I get home from school, two of them sitting in the front room. I’m not happy that Mum hasn’t thought to warn me about this and I glare at her for a second. She looks like she’s been taking antidepressants again: her face is almost slack, and vacant. She’s in one of her weird moods, which is perfect bloody timing. She always goes to pieces when things aren’t going exactly how she wants them to be. She’s pathetic. I’m sick of her moping about Tristan – what even was he to her? He was my friend’s brother. Now she’s going to try to make people feel sorry for her about Molly when she has no right. She was my friend. It’s always about her, and her secret scars and her dead parents. I hate her.

‘Vivian?’ The female police officer stands up from our sofa to shake my hand. She’s tall, toweringly so, with frizzy blonde hair and rough red cheeks. She doesn’t smile at me and I wonder for a stomach-looping second if they’ve found Molly. ‘Would you like to sit down? We need to ask you a few questions about Molly’s disappearance.’ She sits back down, next to the man who is looking at me as he pulls out a notebook from his utility belt thing. I wonder if he’s got a taser.

I sit down reluctantly. There’s a gap that seems to take for ever between that and the police officer talking again. No doubt on purpose, trying to put me on edge. I assume that she must be in charge because the other officer with her doesn’t say anything; he just makes notes in his little black notebook. I wonder if they are local police or if they’ve come down from the city especially.

‘Vivian, what time did you last see Molly on Saturday night?’

‘I don’t know what time it was. I woke up and wanted to leave, so I came home.’

‘And you didn’t check the time?’

‘No. I didn’t have my phone.’

‘And you didn’t check it when you came in?’

‘No. I just went straight to bed. I was tired.’

‘What did Molly say when you left?’

‘Nothing. She was asleep. I was too hot at her house. She would never open the window.’

‘How has Molly been recently? Have you noticed anything unusual in her behaviour, or has she said anything to you about being unhappy?’

I think of her half-naked,