Authors: Isabel Ashdown
‘Flippin’ ’eck. You just never can tell, can you? I wonder if Luke knows about it, poor bastard. Here – turn the volume up, Suze. I love this one.’
Luke can feel the burn of the sun across his forearm, where his hand now grips the glistening blue paintwork of
the handrail. Beyond the half-closed door Philip whistles tunelessly; Luke stuffs his wage packet into his back pocket and runs across the dusty forecourt towards the car park, where he finds Tom leaning against the car, smoking a cigarette, his face turned towards the sun.
‘He ate it,’ Tom guffaws as he pulls out on to the main road. ‘Chef – he ate the bread roll. The
whole
thing.’ He turns up the volume of the radio, his lop-sided smile curling up at the opening bars of Bowie’s ‘Golden Years’.
‘Nice one,’ Luke replies, dropping his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes. He breathes slow and deep, letting the music wash over him, knowing he has to confront Mum and Dad tonight. There’s no more avoiding it, and the thought of it makes him want to puke. ‘Listen, mate, I’ve got a bit of a headache. Do you mind if we don’t talk?’
Tom reaches for a fresh matchstick to slot between his teeth. ‘Suit yourself, man,’ he replies, and they wind their way back down towards Sandown, Luke dozing lightly in the warm breeze of the open windows, as the sweat and anxiety of the afternoon pools in the small of his back.
Back home, he leaves Tom and heads for his front door, just as next door’s car pulls into their driveway. Mum and Diana get out, Mum with one small carrier bag, Diana laden down with several.
‘Cooee!’ Diana calls over to Luke. ‘Did you boys have a good day together?’
He nods, waiting for Mum as she says goodbye to Diana and walks back round the gate and into their front drive. Luke holds the door open for her and they go through the hallway together to find Dad still watching the Olympics in the living room. The curtains are drawn to keep the sunlight off the television screen, and an empty beer bottle sits on the floor beside his armchair. It looks as though he hasn’t moved for hours.
‘Oh, you’re back,’ he says idly, rubbing his eyes as if he’s just woken up. ‘Get anything nice?’
Mum holds up her carrier bag. ‘Not much. Just a new pair of shorts and some underwear.’
‘Cor! Let’s have a look, then!’ Dad says with a lecherous chortle as she snatches the bag away.
Luke’s stomach contracts as he wonders how to tackle the subject of the parties. He stares at them a moment, before sighing deeply and throwing open the curtains to let the afternoon light in.
‘God, Dad, it’s like a morgue in here. I swear you haven’t moved since I left for work this morning.’
‘He’s right,’ says Mum. ‘Have you been sitting indoors
all
day?’
‘It’s the Olympics!’ Dad replies. ‘Once every four years!’
Luke pushes open the French doors that lead out into the garden, frowning hard. ‘Poor Kitty. She must have been bored out of her mind.’ He turns back to Dad, who at once looks startled.
Mum’s face alters. ‘Richard? Where’s Kitty?’
Abruptly, he leaves his seat, striding out into the garden. ‘I expect she’s just playing nicely out here –’ He returns. ‘What about the bedroom?’ he says, his voice giving away his nerves.
‘Kitty!’ Mum yells, her panic immediate. ‘Kitty!’
Individually they hurry about the house, calling her name, pulling open cupboards and searching under beds.
‘Kitty! It’s not funny any more!’ Dad shouts at the top of his voice. He stands in the hallway, his jaw slack, a film of sweat forming across his brow. ‘Kitty? Come out NOW!’
Mum clasps her hands beneath her chin, her eyes wide with disbelief. ‘She’s not here, Richard,’ she gasps. ‘Where is she?’
They all rush to the front garden, and stand at the open gate, frantically looking up and down the road.
‘Get the Michaelses,’ Mum whispers, and Dad sprints over the wall and across their lawn, returning seconds later with Mike, Diana and Tom. The men stand in next door’s
garden, on the other side of the low wall, as Diana dashes down the path to comfort Mum.
‘You’ve lost Kitty?’ Mike asks in his booming voice, a deep crease of concern slicing his forehead.
Mum’s crying now, her fingers shakily hovering over her mouth. ‘
Richard
has lost Kitty.’
Mike reaches over the low wall and rubs her shoulder. He turns to Dad. ‘When did you last see her, Richard?’
Dad pinches his lip, staring intently at a patch of scrubby grass growing up through the concrete.
‘Richard!’ Mum screams. ‘When did you last see her?’
He shakes his head, his face ashen. ‘Maybe an hour ago? I can’t remember!
Christ
!’
‘Keep a hold of yourself, man,’ Mike says firmly. ‘Has she ever wandered off on her own before?’
‘Never!’ Mum is almost panting with fear, and Luke reaches out and nudges her wrist, but she won’t look at him. ‘It’s so hot out here,’ she says, barely a whisper, pushing the heel of her hand up over her sweat-beaded forehead. ‘It’s too hot for her to be out all this time on her own. What if she needs a drink? She’s only four!’
‘We’ll find her, Mum,’ Luke says softly.
Mike massages the back of his ruddy neck, and surveys the gardens and the street beyond. ‘Richard, have you had any visitors at all today?’
‘Only the postman,’ he replies. He bends forward, placing his hands on his knees, studying the pavement as if the answer is to be found there.
Mike slaps his back, causing him to straighten up. ‘OK,’ he says. ‘Well, we saw the postman after he’d been to yours, and there was no sign of Kitty then. What about Simon? I saw him coming out of here this afternoon – he might have seen something?’
Mum looks up, her expression suddenly severe. ‘Simon Drake was here?’
Dad darts a guilty glance at her.
‘
Richard
?’
‘I didn’t mention it because I knew you’d react like this. He just popped in for an hour or two.’
Luke looks from one to the other, his mind racing. ‘Dad? What’s wrong with Simon coming round?’
‘Nothing,’ he snaps, bringing his flat hand down hard on the wall post. His face is coated in perspiration.
Mum throws her hands out, her tears now flowing with ease. ‘Nothing? Simon Drake’s been round here – again – drinking beer with you all afternoon, and then Kitty goes missing?’
‘Mum, what’s wrong? Simon wouldn’t take her.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake – she just means me spending too much time with him, Luke, not that he’s taken her.’
‘Who’s to say he hasn’t?’ She turns fierce eyes on Dad.
‘
Mum
?’
‘Stop it, Jo!’ Dad shouts angrily, his hands working madly through his hair. ‘You’re being ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous!’
Diana stands by, looking confused and helpless, as Mike puffs on a cigarette under the oppressive heat of the sun. He takes a step towards Mum, laying a condescending hand on her shoulder. ‘Come along, Jo. You know Simon wouldn’t do anything like that. Now, let’s try to think straight.’
‘All I know is my daughter’s missing, and if she’s not with Simon –’ Mum shrieks, shrugging Mike’s hand from her shoulder ‘– then who –?’ She breaks off, unable to complete the sentence, sinking on to the low wall and covering her face with her hands.
Dad’s face is suddenly animated. ‘Oh! And Martin called round looking for Luke – about threeish – yes it was
half-three
, because I told him you were at work, and he said he might call back later on. He might have seen her?’
‘Now that’s a different kettle of fish altogether!’ Mike bellows, searching his pockets for his car keys. ‘Why didn’t you say something before, man?’
‘What?’ Luke says, raising his voice and looking from face to face. ‘She’s not with Martin. Bloody
hell
. Just wait a minute, will you? I’ll go and call him.’ Luke runs back inside and picks up the receiver, dialling the number and listening as it rings and rings at the other end. He can see the others from here, gathered at the gate, a vision of paralysed panic.
‘Hello?’ It’s Martin’s dad.
‘Oh, Mr Brazier – it’s Luke here. I wondered if Martin was around.’
There’s an uncomfortable pause at the other end, a heavy sigh. ‘No, he’s not. Haven’t seen him since he went off after lunch. I thought he was going to meet you.’ He sounds less angry than usual; he sounds exhausted.
‘OK – thanks. I was out at work. I expect he’s on his way back now.’
Mr Brazier hangs up. Luke’s pulse is throbbing, and he races back down the path towards expectant faces, shaking his head. ‘He’s not there.’
Mike Michaels opens his car door and slaps the roof. ‘Right – we need to split into groups to look for them.’
Mum looks from Mike to Dad. ‘
Them
?’
‘Hang on a second,’ Luke yells, fury rising up in him. ‘You are not seriously suggesting that Martin’s got her?’
Mike plants his hands on his hips. ‘Look, son. I know he’s your friend, but there’s something very odd about that boy. Seems to me you’re the only one who can’t see it.’
‘You are
so
wrong about this!’ Luke punctuates his words with a pointed finger, as Mum tries to pull him away from the wall.
‘Stop!’ she screams, her chest heaving as she fails to suppress her sobs. ‘Why are we all standing here, fighting, when Kitty’s out there on her own…?’ Her voice trails away and she covers her mouth with her hand, hastily turning her back to the rest of the group.
‘Or
not
on her own, as the case may be,’ Mike says gravely, indicating to Tom to climb into the back seat. ‘Richard, you
come with us – I’ll drop you and Tom at different points to search along the seafront.’
Mum catches her breath at the suggestion. ‘She can’t have got as far as the seafront.’
‘Di, you run in and phone Art Brewer down at the station – tell him to get over here, and don’t forget to mention Martin.’ He clicks his fingers at Luke. ‘What’s his surname, son?’
‘Brazier,’ Dad answers, shaking his head as he opens the passenger door.
‘Brazier – Martin Brazier. OK, Di? You got that? When you’ve called him, you and Joanna need to knock on every door along the street and ask if they’ve seen her. We’ll meet you back here in an hour, if not before.’
Luke can feel the blood rushing through his veins as the insufferable sun beats down on the cracked lawns of Blake Avenue. ‘What about me? What am I meant to do?’
‘Wait here!’ Mike shouts from his window as he reverses from his drive. ‘Wait here for Art Brewer.’ He bumps down the pavement and speeds off along the road, taking Tom and Dad with him.
Still standing on the path outside their house, Mum and Luke wait for Diana to return from her phone call. Mum reaches for Luke’s fingers and squeezes them. ‘Someone needs to be here when Kitty comes back on her own.’
‘You know it’s not true, don’t you? About Martin?’
Her face crumples again, and she drops against his shoulder, her tears silently soaking into his sweat-damp T-shirt. ‘They should check with Simon – he might have seen her on his way out.’
‘OK, Mum. I’m sure they will. But
Martin
,’ Luke says, his body stiff against hers, unyielding. ‘You know he’d never do a thing to hurt her.’
An hour later and everyone has returned home, with still no sign of Kitty. Chief Constable Brewer has arrived with PC Paley, whom Luke recognises as someone two or three
years older than him from school. Dad is showing Art Brewer around the house, answering his questions as the PC takes down notes.
‘Write that down,’ Art tells the PC with a tap on the page. ‘No previous instance of wandering off. And Richard, you’ve phoned Simon Drake?’
Dad nods. ‘He says she was still here when he left at
half-two
. She waved him off from the front door.’ He trails off, deep in thought.
PC Paley makes a note, nervously double-dotting the ‘i’s. He moves aside for Luke, who’s been following them around to hear what’s going on.
‘Show me her bedroom,’ Chief Constable Brewer demands, striding down the hall. ‘This one?’
Dad holds open the door.
‘They normally turn up within a few hours,’ Paley tells Luke as they stand outside the door. ‘She’s probably just wandered off and found a friend. Lost track of time.’
‘I hope so,’ Luke replies.
Art Brewer appears in the doorway. ‘Go and ask Mrs Wolff what the child was wearing, Paley. And find out what the neighbours were doing at the time.’
Luke returns with him to the kitchen, where Mum is at the table with Diana, staring into a cold cup of tea. Mike and Tom are by the back door, unconsciously mirroring each other’s pose, their arms folded, feet planted wide.
‘Mrs Wolff, could you tell me what Kitty was wearing when she went missing.’
For a few seconds Mum looks wide-eyed, as if desperately trying to retrieve a lost image. ‘I was in a rush. I can’t remember.’ She draws a shuddering breath. ‘I didn’t even kiss her goodbye.’
‘I remember,’ says Luke. ‘I was with her in the garden before I went to work. She had that flowery dress on, Mum. The one she was wearing on Martin’s birthday.’
Mike Michaels shakes his head and sighs heavily.
‘What’s your problem?’ Luke snaps, turning to face Mike, raising a searching hand.
PC Paley turns to Mike. ‘And you, sir, you’re the
neighbour
?’
‘Yes. Mike Michaels. This is my wife, Diana; my son, Tom. Diana was out shopping with Jo when this ghastly thing happened.’
‘Do you have to say stuff like that?’ Luke demands. ‘This “ghastly thing”? For Christ’s sake.’
Mum pushes her cup away and lowers her head on to her folded arms.
‘May I ask where you were, sir, while your wife was out?’
Mike’s head recoils slightly, a tiny movement, but enough for Luke to notice. ‘Next door. At home.’
‘Anyone with you?’
Mike looks deeply offended. ‘No.’
‘And you – Tom? Where were you?’
‘With Luke.’
‘Up at Sunshine Bay. The holiday camp,’ Luke says. ‘We work there.’
PC Paley turns back to Mike, jotting a few notes in his pad. ‘I’ll just have to report back to the Chief. It’s possible he’ll want to make an inspection of your house too, sir.’