miles away. Isaac’s mother was
obviously expecting Jessica and invited her straight into their living room before introducing herself as Kayla and offering the obligatory cup of tea.
Jessica had read the Isaac Hutchings file thoroughly and knew his mother was only thirty-four, the same age as she was. As well as Isaac, she had a daughter, Jenny, who was thirteen. As Kayla
brought in two mugs of tea and placed them on a coffee table, Jessica thought she would have struggled to guess the woman’s age if she hadn’t known. The greasy unwashed black hair and
sallow skin colouring, coupled with dark bags under her eyes, made her look comfortably into her forties. Jessica was well aware it was almost impossible for someone childless, as she was, to
understand what the woman in front of her had gone through.
Kayla sat on the brown sofa next to Jessica and offered a weary smile. ‘Thanks for coming,’ she said. ‘The person I spoke with said they didn’t know if they would be able
to arrange it . . .’
Jessica shuffled in her seat, uncomfortable at meeting the woman’s stare. ‘It’s not a problem. What would you like to know?’
Kayla stumbled over her words. ‘I . . . I don’t know really. They’ve not let us have the body back yet so we can’t even plan the funeral. My husband, Mike, went back to
work yesterday. I didn’t want him to but I think he just felt trapped in here . . .’
She indicated towards a selection of photographs pinned on the wall. Jessica had noticed them as soon as she entered the living room. They showed various shots of Isaac and his sister playing,
as well as group pictures of the parents with their children. Kayla tailed off before beginning to speak again. ‘I think I just wanted to hear what he was like when you found him.’
It was the question Jessica had expected but was dreading. She tried to choose her words carefully. ‘Mrs Hutchings, I . . .’
‘Kayla.’
‘Sorry, Kayla, I’m not really sure what I can tell you. You identified the body . . .’
‘I know but what was he like when you found him? I know he was in a car.’
Jessica had a tough decision to make. There were no rules she had to follow regarding disclosure of information, so she was free to tell the woman from that point of view – but it was
always a balancing act of whether the information would cause too much emotional distress. Jessica glanced up and caught the woman’s pleading eyes, which made her mind up for her.
‘He was wrapped up in some sort of sheeting in the car boot when I found him. I didn’t really look at him too much after that.’
‘Did he look . . . okay?’
Sometimes people would only give a quick glance when identifying a body, not wishing to prolong their agony. She would have been told there was no sexual element to the disappearance but that
would likely offer only a tiny amount of comfort. It was a hard question to answer. Jessica genuinely hadn’t seen that much of the boy after cutting him free.
‘He looked peaceful. His eyes were closed.’
It was about as much reassurance as Jessica could manage.
Kayla nodded, wiping around her eyes, although she wasn’t obviously crying. ‘Thanks.’ She sniffed, then continued. ‘Do you know how he disappeared?’
‘I read the file.’
Kayla nodded again but seemed keen to tell her story. ‘Everyone keeps saying, “It’s not your fault”, but it’s shit. They’re just words. I know it’s down
to me. Mike blames me and he’s right.’
‘I don’t think it’s your fault, Kayla.’
The woman offered a small shrug of her shoulders. ‘The other officers talked me through everything and I saw the CCTV footage. He was walking home from school the same way he always did. I
would pick him up if it was raining and I keep thinking, what if it
was
raining? I mean it rains up here all the bloody time, doesn’t it? It’s always pissing down but, on the
one day it would actually have helped, it was
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