20

Fear chases reason as I race through the wood, retracing my tracks over and over, even though it’s obvious Jamie isn’t here. I’m panting for breath, sweat dripping down my face and my back. Where is he? He can’t have just vanished. I crash over twigs and leaves, pushing past branches, my throat hoarse from yelling his name. I widen the scope of my search until I’m almost at the point where the woods narrow, close to the sea.

There’s no way Jamie would have come this far. I turn around and take a circuitous route back to the place where I last saw him, the entrance to the woods close to the park near our house.

It starts to rain as I call Jamie’s name one final time. Nearly fifty minutes have passed since he ran into the woods and there is still no sign of my little brother. I imagine that he’s lost, wandering among the trees. I imagine he’s run through the woods and down to the cliffs on the other side. I imagine him falling, terrified, into the sea below. I don’t know what has happened or where he is, all I know is that I’ve lost him.

I hurry home, not bothering to wipe my damp hair from my eyes. It’s just after three o’clock. Poppy and Mum should be back by now. How am I going to face either of them? Jamie is the very heart of our family, the only pure and innocent element.

What if someone’s taken him? Maybe the same person behind SweetFreak? Taylor? Abi would have told him I’d come to the door, he could easily have followed us to the woods. Maybe he took Jamie as the price of my silence.

I’m being crazy now. Taylor doesn’t even know I suspect him of being SweetFreak. I stand, shivering, at the traffic lights on the road past the park, waiting to cross as cars swoosh past, sending spray over my already wet legs.

At last the traffic comes to a halt. I fly across the road then up our street. I’m soaked through, but I barely notice. Terror for Jamie coils around the guilt that feels like it’s splitting me into fragments. My heart is beating so hard I actually think it might explode. I raise my key to the lock with trembling fingers. The wood is damp as I push the door open. I step inside. Voices drift across the hall from the kitchen. Mum is laughing, Poppy saying something in that low-voiced, sarcastic way of hers. In seconds I will have to deliver the most devastating news of our lives.

‘And yay, I present thee my sword and swear myself to thy service!’ Jamie’s excitable squeal sends Mum into giggles again.

I stop in my tracks, my drenched satin jacket dripping onto the carpet. For a second I can’t actually process what I’ve heard. Then I break into a run and storm into the kitchen. Jamie is right there, his plastic sword in his hand as he kneels before Mum at the kitchen sink. He looks up and sees me, slack-jawed, staring at him. A guilty look flashes across his little face.

‘Carey, for heaven’s sake!’ Mum exclaims.

‘The wet look was very last year, actually,’ Poppy drawls.

‘Jamie! Where’ve you been? I thought you were lost,’ I say, not taking my eyes off my brother. ‘I thought you’d been kidnapped or . . . or . . .’ My voice shakes and all of a sudden I’m in floods of tears. It’s the relief, washing over me in huge waves. I sink against a chair. ‘What happened? I was looking everywhere for you.’

Jamie stands up, shuffling from foot to foot.

‘Jamie said he turned around and you’d gone,’ Mum says, her voice half accusatory, half concerned. ‘I tried to call you, but there was no reply.’

My hand strays to the phone Taylor gave me. It is still in my pocket but of course Mum would have called me on the rubbish mobile she gave me. And I left that at home.

I look at my brother. I’m guessing he hasn’t told Mum about our argument or that he ran away. He knows that would get him into trouble.

‘No,’ I say, my voice still shaking. ‘I turned around and Jamie had gone. I’ve been looking everywhere for him.’ I wipe my eyes and focus on my brother again. ‘Thank goodness you’re all right.’

‘Well it sounds like you were both extremely careless,’ Mum says, sounding a little bewildered.

I nod. I’m just beginning to accept that nothing bad has happened. Which is, frankly, so amazing I don’t have the slightest desire to drop Jamie in it.

‘So . . .’ Mum goes on. ‘Jamie, you shouldn’t have run off, but I understand you wanting to come home when you couldn’t find Carey. And Carey, obviously you should have kept a better eye on him, but it looks like you’ve suffered enough.’ She eyes my wet clothes and hair. ‘So why don’t you go and change and I’ll make us all some hot chocolate.’

I nod again, slowly. Jamie darts across the room and throws his arms around me. It’s a hug not just of affection but of gratitude.

I hug him back, tears sparking at my eyes again. Suddenly I feel wrung out and exhausted. I hang my damp jacket on the peg by the door and trudge upstairs. I shower and change into leggings and a baggy jumper. Warm and cosy at last, I brush leave-in conditioner through my curls, eyeing myself in the mirror. The world feels like it’s shifted on its axis, just a little. I didn’t lose Jamie, but I could have. It makes me see what’s important: keeping the people you love safe, or even more simply: keeping the people you love.

I detangle my hair, strand by strand. I’m determined to sort things out and get my life back. I’ve let myself be buffeted about by the terrible things I was accused of, allowing those things to dictate how people behave towards me.

Well, all that is going to change.

First, I’ll call Taylor and ask him what’s going on between us. I won’t mention the whole SweetFreak thing. Instead I’ll keep the focus on us and whether or not he actually wants to go out with me.

Then I’m going to try and speak to Amelia again but this time, instead of blaming other people for SweetFreak, I’ll simply insist that it isn’t me, that I’m her good friend and that I always have been.

I should never have given up on our friendship and if I can get Amelia on my side then everyone else will come round in time. My friends will start talking to me . . . Mum will stop looking at me through wary eyes . . . I’ll be liked again. Most important of all, I’ll get my best friend back.

The rain has stopped outside and the sun is out, making a rainbow that curves over the horizon. Downstairs I can hear Mum and Poppy discussing a dress Mum is thinking of buying. Toots and whistles blare out from the living room where Jamie must be watching a cartoon.

This is my world, my family. We’re all here. Safe. For the first time in ages I actually feel happy.

I put down my comb and take out the phone Taylor gave me. I plug it in to charge, then idly open NatterSnap. Mum calls up to say the hot chocolate is ready and I’m about to head downstairs, when a deluge of posts all with the hashtag LostGirl catches my eye. Why are there so many pictures of Amelia flooding the screen?

Mum calls up to me again, but I am glued to NatterSnap, my heart pounding, the glow that had lit me just a moment earlier evaporating.

Because all the posts are full of just one bit of news: Amelia is missing.