The Baileys had been sitting in the waiting room at Braden’s Veterinary Surgery for nearly three hours. The clock on the wall said 10.45pm.

Jackie was resting on her husband’s shoulder.

“I really think,” whispered Stewart, “that you should go home.”

“Who’s you?” said Jackie, waking.

“All of you,” he said, looking round. Grandpa and Libby and Bert were all there as well, sleeping on chairs, underneath pictures of cats and dogs and hamsters.

“I think they want to be here,” she said.

Stewart looked to the door at the end of the room, the door where the surgery was.

“How long did Rodney say he thought it would take?”

Jackie shrugged. “He wasn’t sure. The injuries are bad. And Chinny’s a very small creature.”

“I know.”

“He said he would do his best.”

“Yes,” said Stewart. “And if there’s one thing we know about Rodney, it’s that he likes a chance to show off what a great vet he is …”

Jackie nodded. She took her phone out of her coat and peered at the screen. There were no messages on it. “Have you heard anything from the farm?” she said.

“Yes. I just got a text.”

She sat up, turning to him. “And …?”

“They’ve called off the search. For tonight.”

Jackie stood up, her teeth clenched. “Right. Time to call the police.”

Stewart looked very worried. He glanced around, making sure the other members of the family were asleep.

“Jackie,” he whispered. “I already have called the police.”

Jackie went white. “You have? What did they say?”

“They said normally they don’t put any kind of police search in place until someone has been missing for seventy-two hours.”

“Three days!”

“Yes. They said a lot of boys of Malcolm’s age run away for a bit, and then just turn up.”

Jackie took a deep breath. She picked up her coat. “Let’s go to the farm! I want to check myself!”

“No, darling …”

“Why not?”

“Because he might be making his way back somehow. Hitch-hiking. Or on a bus or a train. And so it’s better for us to be here for him – what if we find out he’s made it to the city, but then we’re miles away in the country …?”

Jackie shook her head, defeated. She folded her coat and sat back down next to her husband.

“They—” he said.

“The police?”

“Yes … they said to get back to them tomorrow if there was no news.”

Jackie shut her eyes “I feel so awful, Stewart …”

“I know, darling,” he replied.

“No, I don’t just mean because I’m so worried. Also because … almost the last thing that happened with Malcolm before he went off on that trip was … us all laughing at him … because of the Monkey Moment …”

Stewart frowned. “Jackie,” he said, “you mustn’t …”

“I can’t bear it. I can’t bear that he’s out there somewhere and his last memory of us is that. Especially me. I’m his mum.” Softly, she started to cry. “I shouldn’t have laughed …”

“Jackie,” said Stewart, putting his arm round her, and folding her crying face into his chest, “Malcolm’s going to be OK. I know he is.”

He said it very confidently. But his face didn’t quite go with his words.