‘You called the police?’ It was Martin Young, one of Jill’s lads. A farmer as no-nonsense as his mother, but with his late father’s dark hair, dark eyes and swarthy skin. Chunky, capable and balding beneath the woollen hat he wore almost permanently.
I shook my head, unable to speak.
‘Get home.’ His head jerked back the way I’d come. ‘We’ll look, you sort that.’
It made sense. But I stood still, head turning this way and that. Torn.
‘Go on, Melanie. We’ll find her.’ Martin’s voice softened but remained insistent.
He was right, I had to go home. You would be there, I was suddenly sure. I would tear a strip off you for scaring me, for making me look stupid in front of the whole village, for panicking over nothing.
Your father’s car pulled into the drive as I crossed the hundred yards or so from store to house. He jumped out, looking at me expectantly. Chin down, eyes serious.
‘Any sign?’ he called.
An impatient shake of my head as I strode past him and pushed the front door open, hoping, hoping. ‘Beth? Beth! Are you here?’
The only reply was the scrabble of claws racing across hardwood floors. Wiggins appeared, wagging his tail. He reared on his back legs, placing his front paws on my thighs. I pushed him down impatiently, calling for you again, my daughter.
‘Melanie…’ Jacob trailed off. His face reflected my fear.
Standing in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, all the pounding adrenaline, the fluttering panic for you solidified into something new. Something worse.
‘Someone’s taken her, Jacob.’
Wiggins jumped up again. I pushed him down. He jumped up and your dad grabbed his collar.
‘Who? Come on, we just need to call some friends—’
‘I called everyone. I phoned all her friends. She’s disappeared.’
‘What about our parents?’
Damn, I should have thought of that myself. Perhaps you’d got it into your head to catch the bus to see one or other set of grandparents. It would be the first time you’d ever done it, but you were, after all, at that age where you were starting to want to push the boundaries. No longer a child, not yet a young adult.
We both made the calls round family, me on my mobile, your dad on his. Brief conversations that lanced the hope that had risen in us. We both signed off with the same thing: ‘Call us on the landline if you hear anything.’
Jacob looked at me, his usually clear blue eyes looking dangerously pink.
‘I think it’s time to call the police,’ he said, voice thick.
I nodded. Hung onto his arm, toddler-like, as he dialled 999.
‘Shit. Okay, umm, I want to report a missing person. My, my daughter appears to be missing,’ he said, reluctant to say the words that would make this nightmare a reality.
A faint reply could be heard from the other end of the line. Jacob spoke again. ‘I was at work when my wife called and told me. I told her not to be hysterical.’ He gave an embarrassed laugh – you know how he always does when under real pressure. I squeezed his bicep, let him know we were in this together.
More questions and answers. Listening to the one-sided conversation was frustrating.
‘What’s going on? Why don’t they send someone?’ I stage-whispered.
Jacob frowned, shaking his head at me, and started giving a physical description of you.
‘For goodness’ sake,’ I hissed.
‘Just get off the phone and send someone!’ Jacob sounded agitated now, so unlike his usual calm self. If he was worried, that made me all the more worried. Extricating his arm from my grip, he ran a hand over the blond stubble of his closely cropped head. Frowned again. ‘What, outside now?’
My head shot up. I ran to the front door, flung it open expecting to see you, Beth. A squad car was pulling up. Jacob stood beside me, phone still in his hand, hanging loosely at his side. A faint voice came from it. I took it from him and hung up.
Uniformed officers stepped from their car and started up the garden path. But with every footfall, the strength that had carried me this far seemed to erode.
This was actually happening. To me. To my beautiful daughter. To my perfect, happy family.
The world began to narrow into a dark tunnel. My knees gave way, as if someone had kicked me at the back of the joint. A shout from the police and they rushed forward, hands reaching as I fainted.
Three
They were guarding me, I realised. Jacob beside me on the sofa, his fingers woven with mine, studying me intently. With no fat on his face the muscles and bone structure showed clearly, and the clenching and unclenching of his jaw could be seen by all. Wiggins was on the other side of me; ears back, tail tucked firmly down, body pressed up tight against mine. Man and dog equally worried since I had fainted.
Two police officers sat in front of me now, their uniforms making them strangely anonymous, drawing my eyes away from their faces. Five minutes after meeting them, their names were forgotten. Nothing mattered, except them finding you.
‘We’d like to take some details from you, if you feel up to it,’ one officer said.
‘Of course.’ I nodded forcefully to show I was up to the task.
‘How old is your daughter?’
‘Beth’s thirteen,’ Jacob replied. ‘She went to stay with a friend last night, but didn’t arrive. We only discovered this morning. Someone must have taken her.’
‘Could she have stayed with another friend?’
‘No. No, she’d have told us. We’ve called round friends and our family. No one has seen her.’
‘Why do you think she was abducted?’
‘I have no idea. When we woke up this morning everything was normal, then my wife realised she wasn’t at Chloe Clarke’s. I… we looked everywhere. Beth wouldn’t just go off on her own, she’d tell us… She tells us everything, we’re very close. Something must have happened.’
‘Okay, how tall is she?’
‘Umm, she’s, what, about an inch shorter than you, Mel?’
‘About that. About five two.’
One officer asked all the questions; the other scribbled notes. ‘Right, so she’s about five feet two inches. And is this the most recent photo of her that you have?’
I leaned forward, instantly the proud parent despite the circumstances. ‘Yes, this was taken at Christmas. It shows her eyes, they’re a beautiful colour – grey with a hint of green to them, like the sea. She gets her hair from both of us.’ My gesture took in Jacob and myself. ‘But it’s much paler. Like spun gold, with just a touch of strawberry blonde.’
I could almost see you rolling your eyes at my description, Beth, furious with embarrassment. The officer seemed to agree, repeating only: ‘Green eyes. Long blonde hair.’ You wanted to have your long hair cut, but so far I had resisted your entreaties. I wanted to keep my little girl for a bit longer.
The constable took the photo back from me. ‘Okay. You say she’s about five feet two inches tall. Do you know how much she weighs?’
Jacob and I exchanged a helpless glance. ‘Uh, probably, I believe she was… I don’t know. I’m not sure. She’s slim. Very slender,’ he offered.
‘She’s only about seven stone,’ I guessed.