‘A search party?’ I picture rows of people combing the fields for a dead body and I feel like I’m going to throw up. ‘Thanks, Mel,’ I manage to say, ‘I appreciate that, I really do, but it’s not like Daisy can wander off by herself. Somebody’s taken her. She’ll either be in someone’s house, or…’ I blow air out through my mouth and put my hands on my waist to steady myself, trying not to collapse onto Mel’s front step.
‘Kirstie,’ she says sternly. ‘A search party is a good idea. Someone might have noticed something – we’ll go and ask people in the area if they’ve seen anyone with a baby, or anyone acting suspiciously, okay? It might help. You go home and wait for the police.’
I nod. ‘You’re right, of course you’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.’ She takes my cold hand in her warm one. ‘Daisy will be fine, hon. We’ll find her, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I squeak.
But Mel can afford to be positive. It’s not her child who’s gone missing.
Fifteen
I’m standing on the pavement in front of my house with Dom’s number on redial. I must have left him a dozen hysterical messages. I’ve only been waiting about ten minutes for the police to arrive, but it feels like hours, and I want to do something – drive around and search for my baby, break into Martin’s house, something. But instead I’m doing nothing, waiting helplessly.
True to her word, Mel is gathering up the neighbours. Jimmy and Rosa Clifford from number two are talking to her at the moment – I didn’t think they’d even be in at this hour. I guess they must work from home, although I don’t know exactly what it is they do. Something lucrative, if their brand-new cars are anything to go by. Why am I thinking about that now? I must be slightly delirious. This is all becoming scarily real, all my fears over the past few days coming true. I should get down on my knees and pray.
Rob Carson is striding back towards me, a serious expression on his face. What if he has bad news?
‘Hi,’ he says. ‘The lads haven’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary, but if there’s anything we can do to help—’
‘Are you sure they didn’t see anything?’ I check. ‘Did you ask everyone there? Did you ask them if they saw any strange cars? Any people hanging around?’ I know I sound crazed, frantic, not even pausing for breath, my words running into each other.
‘Hey, hey, calm down,’ Carson says. ‘I spoke to all the lads. They understand how serious this is.’
‘My neighbour, Mel, she’s organising a search party over there.’ I point towards her. ‘But I know you’re probably too busy—’
‘Good idea,’ he says, cutting me off. ‘We’ll all join in. There are half a dozen of my lot here today. The more of us there are, the more ground we can cover.’
When he says these words, when he talks about covering ground, I think about someone running across fields with my baby in their arms while she screams, terrified to be with a stranger. But then I tell myself that it’s more likely that she’s closer to home. That hardly any ground has been crossed at all…
‘I think my neighbour might have taken her!’ I blurt out, even though I have no real proof and I’m accusing Martin simply on a hunch. But I can’t afford to be delicate about it. If Martin’s got Daisy, then I need to act fast. I run back along the pavement towards Martin’s house.
‘Which neighbour?’ Carson calls out from behind me.
‘Down here,’ I cry, turning down into Martin’s driveway. Behind me, the thuds of Carson’s footsteps match my own.
‘The miserable old git who lives here?’ he asks, catching up to me. ‘You think he’s got something to do with it?’
‘Yes, Martin Lynham,’ I say, panting. ‘He’s got a basement, and I think he might have my daughter down there.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Carson says, stopping halfway down the drive. I stop too for a moment and glance back to see the builder rake a hand through his greying hair. ‘Are you sure about that?’ he says, staring at me with what looks like suspicion in his eyes. ‘His car’s not in the drive, so he’s probably just out shopping or something. I mean, I know he’s a bit of an oddball, but to take someone’s child…’
‘I know, I know it sounds mad, but please trust me. We have to break in and see. Will you help me?’
Carson holds up his hands. ‘You’re better off leaving that to the police. I can’t break into someone’s house.’
‘What if it was your baby? Wouldn’t you do everything you could to keep your child safe?’
Carson scratches his chin. ‘Let’s give the boys in blue a few more minutes to get here. If they don’t show up by ten o’clock, I’ll jimmy the back door, okay?’
I check my watch. It’s 9.45. ‘That’s fifteen minutes away! Can’t you do it now?’ Where the hell are the police? Just as I’m having this thought, I hear the single blip of a siren and see the whirr of a blue light up ahead. They’re here. Ignoring Carson, I run back the way I’ve just come.
As two police cars pull into the cul-de-sac, my stomach swirls, but at the same time my heart lifts ever so slightly. Maybe they will suggest something I haven’t thought of. Maybe they’ve already found my baby.
The cars pull up outside my house, blocking the drive. The first vehicle is a marked car, the second is an unmarked Audi. As I reach the pavement, with Carson not far behind me, two plain-clothes officers get out of the unmarked vehicle – a woman with short, mousy hair and a young sandy-haired man. I jog over to them, out of breath and panicky as a third vehicle approaches – an estate car.
‘Hello,’ the woman says to me, ‘Kirstie Rawlings?’
‘Yes, I’m Kirstie.’
‘You called us to say your child is missing?’
‘Yes, Daisy. She’s been taken.’ I clasp my hands together in front of my face. ‘She’s just a baby, six months old. She was missing from her cot when I woke up this morning.’ Saying the words out loud again increases my panic.
‘That must be very distressing for you,’ she says calmly. ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Lisa Callaghan, and this is my colleague Detective Constable Whitmore.’ She turns to Carson. ‘And are you Mr Rawlings?’
‘Who?’ Carson replies. ‘Err, no, I’m Rob Carson, project manager of the work going on at number six.’ He points to the house at the end. ‘Me and the lads will join in the search party if you need us.’
‘Do you mind if we talk to Mrs Rawlings alone for a minute?’ Callaghan asks Carson. ‘We’ll want to speak to you too, so please don’t go anywhere.’
‘Oh. Yeah, sure.’ He gives me an encouraging smile and walks off, but I wish he could have stayed. I notice that there are two dogs in the back of the estate car – a German Shepherd and a spaniel. With a jolt of understanding, I realise that they must be sniffer dogs. My throat constricts. How can this be happening? I have to focus. The detective is speaking to me again, but my legs are giving way.
‘Are you all right, Mrs Rawlings?’ DS Callaghan asks. ‘Do you need to sit down?’ She takes my arm and leads me over to our front wall, which is just about low enough for me to lean my backside on, the rough brickwork scraping the backs of my legs.
‘Sorry. Sorry. I’m freaking out,’ I say, trying to calm my breathing.
‘It’s okay,’ she says. ‘Can you tell us when you last saw your baby?’
‘I’m sleeping in Daisy’s room at the moment. She had her last feed at around half eleven, as usual.’ At the mention of Daisy’s feed, I realise my breasts are throbbing and painful, so swollen with milk that they’re rock solid. But I can’t worry about that now. ‘I remember finding it hard to get to sleep,’ I continue, omitting to tell the officer about my obsession with security, or how I scattered Daisy’s toys alongside each of the doors and windows as a warning system. ‘I checked on her again just after midnight and then I must have eventually fallen asleep. When I saw she wasn’t in her cot first thing this morning, I assumed Dom, my husband, had taken her downstairs, so I didn’t worry – just got showered and dressed. But when I got down there I saw that it was after 9 a.m. – way after the time Dom goes to work, so I checked the whole house again, and that’s when I realised Daisy was missing and I called you.’
‘Have you told your husband she’s missing?’ Callaghan asks.