‘Yes. We went through it all with the police when it happened. They spoke to everyone who might have had any contact with them, including me. It seems I served them at the bar.’
‘Yes, I’ve seen your statement.’
‘Well, then. I don’t know what earthly use it could have been. Those two people were certainly alive and well when they left the pub. What good does it do going over every minute and every second of what they did in the days before they skipped off?’
‘In case someone noticed anything about them, or the Pearsons gave away a clue of some kind about what they were going to do.’
Nancy picked up a woollen sweater and pulled it around her shoulders, as if she was cold.
‘Well, there was nothing. Nothing at all. For heaven’s sake, I didn’t have a clue who they were. They came in the pub, and they were just some tourists, that’s all. We used to get hundreds of them every week. Thousands in the summer. I had no idea they were going to be in the least bit different to any other tourists. When they came to the Light House, we didn’t even know their names.’
‘And then there was the previous night,’ said Cooper.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The night no one ever talked about.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand you.’
‘The night before,’ repeated Cooper. ‘It was the night of the Young Farmers’ Christmas party.’
‘Party? Oh yes, that. Of course it was. But no one ever mentioned the Pearson people being there.’
‘Did you not see them?’
‘Why would I? The place was packed. It was just before we closed for Christmas. On a night like that, you never really noticed anybody. It was head down over the bar, trying to remember what drinks to ring up on the till.’
‘You have two children, don’t you?’ said Cooper.
‘Yes, Eliot and Kirsten. They’re seventeen and fifteen. I don’t know what I’d do without them. Kirsten is at Hope Valley College. She’ll be doing her GCSEs this summer. She doesn’t want to stay on after that, though. She’s interested in becoming a beautician or a hairdresser.’
Cooper thought she sounded vaguely disappointed.
‘Nothing wrong with that, Mrs Wharton.’
‘No, no. Of course not, Well, Eliot is the clever one, anyway. He’s in the sixth form at Lady Manners in Bakewell.’
‘I wonder if we could speak to them?’
‘They’re not here.’
‘Pity.’
Just then, they both heard a key turn in the front door, and a male voice calling through the house.
‘Mum?’
Eliot Wharton was a tall young man, with short fair hair, flushed cheeks and large hands that dangled by his sides. Cooper wondered if he was a rugby player.
He looked at his mother, and then at Cooper and Murfin with the beginnings of hostility.
‘Who’s this?’ he said.
‘The police, love.’
‘Oh. Again.’
‘Is Kirsten with you?’ asked Nancy.
‘Yes, I’m here,’ said Kirsten from the hall.
Cooper realised that there was hardly any room for anyone else in the lounge since Eliot had entered. They seemed to be uncomfortably close together, too close for anyone who might have problems over their personal space.
Nancy explained to her children what Cooper was asking. They both began shaking their heads simultaneously.
‘That night, the night before the people went missing,’ said Eliot. ‘They were in the pub then, weren’t they? The police asked us questions. But other than that …’
Cooper turned to Eliot’s sister. ‘Kirsten?
She shrugged. ‘How would I know? I wasn’t even old enough to be in the bar, was I?’
He wasn’t sure about that. Too young to drink alcohol, or serve it to customers, yes. But not too young to be in the bar. Children under sixteen could go anywhere in a pub as long as they were supervised by an adult.
‘I know your husband is very ill,’ said Cooper. ‘And there’s nothing I can say that will help.’
‘Maurice has good days and bad days,’ said Nancy. ‘Of course the bad days can be very bad indeed. The drugs control the pain, but they have a lot of side effects.’
‘I understand.’
She studied Cooper closely for a few moments, pursing her lips and frowning, as if trying to make a difficult decision.
‘Your colleague who came here asked if she could talk to Maurice,’ she said at last.
‘I’m sure she did, but if it’s impossible …’
‘I could ask him, if you like,’ said Nancy. ‘He might like to see someone who knew the Light House. It would only be for a few minutes. He gets terribly tired.’
Cooper realised that he must have achieved some kind of honorary status as a pub regular. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to earn that honour, whether it was his own infrequent visits to the Light House, his presence at the YFC booze-up with Matt, or maybe even the fact that he’d chosen Gavin Murfin to accompany him to the Whartons’.
Whichever it was, he felt grateful for the results.
‘That would be very kind of you,’ he said.
‘I’ll see.’
He looked round, and saw both Eliot and Kirsten watching disapprovingly. He wondered if there would be a family argument after he’d gone. They clearly didn’t trust him the way their mother had decided to.
‘The Light House was a good pub,’ said Cooper. ‘I remember when I was a teenager, the beer there was a revelation.’