I was less than enthusiastic about the thought of being driven by Rachel all the way to Dorset, but if she was willing, it did seem to be the answer. It was quite a way for me to drive, and in any case it would save me having to ask Dad to borrow his car yet again. Besides which it would be quite nice to be able to chat over my findings on the way home.
Things really were beginning to look up!
I was lucky enough to be able to find a parking space in the High Street quite close to the Gazette offices. I’d allowed myself plenty of time, and was actually a good twenty minutes early for my appointment with Belinda Jones, so I decided I’d pop into Muffins and try for another quick word with Lisa. It was possible the café would be less busy at this time of the afternoon, and she might be more ready to talk to me. At the very least, I was hoping to get an address for Dawn’s parents. At the moment I only knew that the accident had happened in Wedgeley, but Wedgeley is a fairly sizeable town, and in any case Dawn’s family might live anywhere within, say, a ten-mile radius.
I’d been right in thinking there would be a lull in business in the café. The tables were all vacant, and there was just one woman at the counter buying cream cakes. As I waited for Lisa to serve her, I feigned interest in the iced buns, doughnuts and cup cakes, but the trays were seriously depleted, and I guessed that Lisa had done brisk trade earlier in the day.
When my turn came, I chose a lardy cake, which looked delicious with its sticky glaze, and would, I thought, be something Mum and Dad would enjoy. I’d intended to wait until Lisa had served me before trying to open a conversation about Dawn, but she had other ideas. As she slipped the lardy cake into a paper bag she looked up at me suspiciously.
‘You were in here the other day, weren’t you?’
‘I was, yes.’
‘You’re not from round here though, are you?’ Her beady little eyes were sharp in her rather doughy face.
‘Actually I am,’ I said. ‘I think we went to the same school, though I was a couple of years above you. Sally Proctor.’
‘Sally Proctor,’ she repeated. ‘Yeah, I do remember you.’ She was still staring at me, trying to reconcile my thirty-something face with the girl I’d been then, I supposed, but it was rather disconcerting all the same. ‘You were good at sport.’
‘Not so good now,’ I said ruefully, trying to establish a rapport.
‘Weren’t you friends with Becky Auden’s sister?’
‘Rachel. That’s right. We’re still friends.’
I held out my hand for my lardy cake, but Lisa didn’t pass it to me.
‘Dawn wasn’t at our school, though,’ she said.
‘No, I know.’
‘So what’s your interest in her?’
That took me by surprise. Though I had asked where Dawn was now on my previous visit, I’d done it quite casually, and thought it would have sounded like nothing more than idle curiosity. But for all that she looked a bit of a country bumpkin, there were clearly no flies on Lisa. On the spur of the moment I decided the best thing would be to level with her.
‘Truthfully?’ I said. ‘I’m a journalist these days, with too much time on my hands, and I’ve been following up the story of the fire. I’m not convinced Brian Jennings was the perpetrator, and if he didn’t start the fire, I’d like to find out who did.’
‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ It was the same impatient response as before, but as she thrust the lardy cake at me, I noticed Lisa’s hand was shaking.
‘I know you think they got the right person,’ I went on, ‘but just suppose there was a miscarriage of justice? Brian Jennings could be rotting in jail for something he didn’t do, and the real culprit walking free – to do it again, perhaps.’
Brian Jennings did it all right,’ Lisa said fiercely, but the little tremble was there in her voice now, too. ‘He was stalking Dawn – I told you that before. He was a horrible creep.’
‘I’m sure he was. But that doesn’t mean he should have to spend his life behind bars if he wasn’t responsible for starting the fire,’ I argued. ‘And it’s not as if he can bother Dawn any more, is it? She was killed, I understand, in a road accident.’
Lisa said nothing, simply passed me the lardy cake.
‘That’ll be one pound fifty.’
She was feeling guilty for not having mentioned it when I’d asked about Dawn before, I guessed.
I fished the money out of my purse.
‘Where exactly do her parents live?’ I asked, handing her two pound coins. Lisa shrugged. ‘You must know, surely,’ I went on. ‘You were her flatmate, after all?’