‘Surely if we’re going to do that we may as well call the police.’
‘Let me see what he says first,’ Callum had replied, moving through to the kitchen to call his brother.
It had taken half an hour to get hold of Liam, and another hour to talk through what had happened, the extent of the threat to the girls, and what they should do in the morning. Callum wasn’t sure what his brother would say about Georgia’s run, but Liam had agreed she should give it a go if she felt up to it. Liam was as excited as the rest of them about the sponsorship deal and the opportunities it might bring. In the meantime he would talk to his colleagues, and have someone ready to interview Georgia again afterwards.
After texting Jimmy and explaining the need to keep a close eye on Georgia during the race, Callum had gone back to report everything to Anya, but he found she had disappeared to bed. He had followed, hoping they had reached a tentative truce. He hadn’t slept until dawn. He had spent the night listening for every strange noise, heading downstairs twice to double-check the locks. He’d used the restless hours to go over everything. He prayed they were making the right call.
Now he flicks an eye over the remainder of the forecast. The wind will pick up later – it’s a day to be wary of. It never paid to lose your guard in the Lake District, since it has its own microclimate. While one hill is bathed in sunshine, there might be mist and squalls on another across the valley.
He always checks the weather early, because it can be a good indicator of a quiet or busy day for the rescue team. But right now he is imagining his little girl running along the fells. It’s something she has done many times before, and yet he will be so grateful to see her cross that finish line. He can’t wait to bring her home tired and safe, hopefully with a medal in her pocket.
Considering all that Georgia has been through over the past few days, he fears he and Anya have made a poor support team. Last night, at least they had laid their resentments out in the open. Perhaps it’s progress. If he knows what she’s thinking, he doesn’t have to fear it.
Whether they can put things right is another question. However, today he is determined to present a united front for their daughter. It pains him that it’s all they have to give for now: a fa?ade for their kids, with a mess gathered behind it. And yet, what has he done lately to support his wife as they edge closer to the prospect of an empty nest? Nothing, that’s what. And that galls him. However, even as he acknowledges this, Callum isn’t sure what to do now. Anya doesn’t give him time to talk. She seems to blame him for everything. If he takes a moment to think something through, she treats his silence as an insult and responds accordingly.
He has a feeling they are in for a very long day.
He checks the time and is surprised to find it is eight-thirty already. Georgia’s event isn’t for another couple of hours, but there is a briefing half an hour beforehand, and everyone still needs to get dressed.
He makes his way upstairs and finds Anya asleep, curled tightly beneath the covers. He looks around. While each child’s personality bursts out of their rooms, with their posters and belongings and bits everywhere, their bedroom is so banal and bare that it could belong to one of the countless B&Bs throughout the county. We need to change that, he thinks. We need to start focusing on ourselves again.
His mobile chimes. It is a text from Jimmy, and instantly he feels better. He sits on the bed next to his wife. ‘Anya,’ he whispers, tentatively putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘We have to get ready – it’s gone half-eight. I’ve heard from the marshals. They’re going to keep an eye on Georgia.’
In response she rolls onto her back, rubbing her eyes. ‘Half-eight? Really?’ Her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose. ‘I felt as though I drifted in and out of sleep all night; I’m exhausted.’
‘Shall I make you a coffee?’ He gets up and heads for the door.
‘Thanks. Are the kids up?’
‘I haven’t seen Zac – he’s my next port of call,’ Callum replies, leaving the room and strolling along the landing.
‘Zac?’ He knocks and waits outside his son’s room. ‘Zac?’
He tries a few more times, then pushes the door open. Zac’s blankets have been dumped in an untidy heap on his bed, and the floor is littered with dirty clothes, but there is no sign of him.
He goes back to Anya. ‘Zac isn’t in his room.’
‘What?’ Anya sits up in a rush and reaches for her phone, sending it clattering to the floor. ‘Oh god, why is it so hard to keep track of the kids?’
Callum retrieves it for her. ‘Don’t panic, I think he’s sent you a message.’ He hands it over and she checks the screen.
‘He’s gone to meet a friend, says he’ll see us at school.’
‘Really? Why didn’t he tell us, today of all days?’ Callum tuts. He heads towards the stairs again to make Anya’s coffee, when Georgia comes rushing out of her room.