AMY

Amy stared around the bar, taking in the brightly coloured drinks, the sight of old Dr Evans wearing a Santa hat with mistletoe hanging from it, and her friends all having a brilliant, festive time.

Luke had done a great job of turning their normally dull Christmas dinner into something so much more by booking a great venue – a fun new bar that Amy hadn’t even known had opened in town, that had a back room filled with large tables for groups to eat at, and a dance floor with Christmas karaoke running next to the main bar. Something for everyone – even Dr Evans, who was sweet-talking one of the barmaids into a kiss. He might look a hundred and seven, but apparently the guy had moves.

She hadn’t been sure that coming was a good idea, despite Luke’s insistence that she needed a night out. But it wasn’t just him – all her friends and colleagues had teamed up to talk her into it. And they’d been so persuasive! Especially Shireen who, after dealing with Flora’s stomach bug for the last couple of days, was desperate to hand her over to her husband and get out of the house for a few hours.

It’s Christmas! We haven’t been out together in months and months. What’s the point of putting up with a seventeen-year-old if he can’t babysit for one night a year? When was the last time you did anything just for you?

And, the most persuasive of all was Luke’s gentle encouragement: Just take a night off, Amy. Take a couple of hours away from the real world and relax.

So here she was. Relaxing. At least, until the real world caught up with her again.

‘Are you going to sing?’ Luke slid into the chair beside her, and pushed a fresh glass of white wine her way. ‘They’re just getting the karaoke started. I brought the song list …’ He waved the thick file with all the different songs available in front of her. ‘There’s a whole page of just Christmas songs. I think Shireen and Nathan are planning on duetting on “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”.’

‘I can’t remember the last time I sang karaoke.’ Jim had always made fun of her love of singing along to music, but she enjoyed it. It made her feel happy. Especially when the music in question was Christmas songs. Belting out the classics in the car with Claire, while Jack rolled his eyes and pretended not to be humming along, was one of her best festive moments this year.

Maybe it was time to make another one.

Luke flicked open the song list, and ran his finger down the Christmas page. ‘How about this one?’ He pointed to a familiar song, and Amy smiled.

‘I probably shouldn’t,’ she said, that last vestige of doubt still playing on her mind. What if Jim was right? What if she would just make a fool of herself.

‘Oh, I think you definitely should,’ Luke replied. ‘In fact I’m going to go and put your name down, right now.’

‘Okay, then,’ Amy said, giving into the inevitable.

But no sooner as he had left, her phone buzzed on the table.

Jim.

Her ex-husband’s name flashed up on the screen and for one brief and confusing moment she wondered if he was calling to complain about her singing in public.

Probably not.

Amy stepped away from the table where her friends were emptying a second bottle of wine, and held her phone tight to her ear as she tried to hear over the noise of the bar.

‘Amy? Where are you?’

‘Jim? What’s the matter?’ She had to shout to even hear herself, let alone hope Jim could hear her.

She needed to get out of here. Signalling to Luke as she passed the bar that she was stepping outside to take the call, she weaved her way through the crowds of people to the front door, and stepped out into the bitter winter night’s air.

Why was he calling her, anyway? Whatever problems he had were no longer her concern.

‘Do you know where our children are right now?’ The anger in Jim’s voice was suddenly stark and clear in the quiet of the outside, and Amy’s heart jumped. Except for the kids. They were still their mutual problem.

‘At home,’ she said, hoping to God that was true. ‘Jack agreed to babysit Claire for me so I could go on a Christmas night out with work friends.’

‘Well, they’re not there now,’ Jim said.

Amy felt her heart sink down into her stomach, as she leant back against the wall of the bar for support.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I just checked the Facebook account for the Hunt for Henry. There was a message from some dodgy guy claiming he’d found him and asking about a reward.’

‘Yeah, it came through yesterday morning,’ Amy remembered. ‘I didn’t see it myself – I was trying to get everyone out the door to school.’ And singing in the car.

‘And you didn’t think it was important enough to tell me about?’

‘It’s your account, Jim! I figured you’d see it, if you cared.’ How was this her fault? Setting up the damn page had been his idea in the first place! ‘Besides, I told Jack and Claire not to respond, or do anything at all, until they’d spoken to you about it. It didn’t feel right.’

‘Well, they didn’t speak to me,’ Jim said. ‘Instead, Jack messaged him back earlier today and arranged to meet him.’

‘When he knew I’d be out and wouldn’t be there to stop him.’ Amy turned and rested her forehead against the brickwork feeling panic burning in her stomach. ‘Damn it. Do you know where they are?’

‘Fortunately, yes. Shall I come and get you?’

‘Yes please.’

Amy reeled off the address of the bar she was at, then hung up and went inside to tell her friends that her fun was over for another year.

Luke met her, just inside the door. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘The kids. They’ve run off to chase some probably fake lead on Henry.’ She shuddered, imagining them alone out in the night. Why couldn’t they have waited?

‘Do you need me to take you to them?’ Suddenly, the fun, relaxed Luke who wanted her to sing karaoke was gone, and in his place was the serious, capable doctor she knew from work.

‘Thanks, but Jim’s already on his way to get me.’

Luke nodded. ‘Okay, good. I’ll go fetch your stuff, you look out for his car.’

Amy nodded, and watched him go, imagining, just for a moment, a world in which this night might have had a very different ending.

Maybe even with mistletoe.

The drive was every bit as miserable as Amy had expected it to be. Tense, and silent, as she realised that – after twenty plus years together – they had absolutely nothing to say to each other. Nothing except ‘this is your fault’. Which was both a lie, and unhelpful.

So Amy kept quiet, and stared out of the window, hoping for any sign that her children were okay.

Eventually, though, Jim slowed the car as the satnav told them they’d reached their destination.

‘I guess this must be it.’ Amy peered out of the windscreen at the dark, empty bus station. ‘Why on earth would they agree to meet here?’

Or anywhere, for that matter. Nothing about this evening made sense. Her kids were sensible, even when they were being typical teens or pre-teens. What on earth could have possessed Jack to bring his little sister all the way out here, late at night, to meet a stranger?

Jim pulled the car into an empty space alongside the pavement, and they both got out, looking around cautiously for any signs of people. Or dogs.

‘Hey!’ At the shout, Amy and Jim exchanged a glance.

‘That’s Jack,’ Amy said, as she started running.

Jim followed, catching her up in a few strides, then keeping pace as they headed to where the shout had come from.

‘There,’ Jim gasped, pointing.

Up ahead, Amy saw a slim, dark figure, with a smaller shadowed figure next to it. Jack and Claire. It had to be!

‘Come back!’ Jack was shouting. ‘That’s my money!’

Claire was tugging on his sleeve. ‘Let’s just go home. Jack, I want to go home.’

‘But he took my money!’

‘Jack!’ Jim yelled, as they approached.

Both kids turned to look at them, their eyes wide and fearful. Yeah, Amy thought, they both knew they were for it now.

What did you think you were doing?’ Jim stopped just a pace in front of them, looming over Jack like he was six again and had been drawing on the walls.

Claire rushed to Amy’s side, throwing her arms around her waist. Amy held her tightly to her, reassuring herself that everything was fine, and her heart could stop racing any time now.

‘He said he had Henry,’ Jack said.

Amy could see the pleading in his eyes – how badly he wanted his dad to understand. But Jim wasn’t watching. And Amy wasn’t sure she blamed him, this time.

‘You brought Claire – your twelve-year-old sister – to a strange place, in the middle of the night, to meet a man neither of you knew, who had already asked you for money.’ Amy’s voice came out clipped, the anger barely contained. ‘Never mind that it was a stupid and dangerous thing for you to do – you’re nearly eighteen, and I get that you want to make your own mistakes. Although if you could refrain from making the really stupid ones that could get you killed that would be great—’

‘The point is,’ Jim interrupted. ‘It wasn’t just your life or well-being you were putting at risk. It was Claire’s too.’

Jack looked shamefaced. No, more than that – he looked horrified. Like it hadn’t occurred to him before now that there was any risk at all.

Well, wasn’t that what growing up was about? Learning to think about the consequences?

‘I told you not to make contact with that man until you’d spoken to your father,’ Amy reminded him. ‘But you thought you knew better. Is that it?’

‘I thought … I thought he had Henry,’ Jack stammered. ‘And I thought that if we waited too long, we might lose our only chance of getting him back.’

‘He wanted money, right?’ Jim guessed. ‘A reward for finding the dog?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So where did you get it?’

Jack’s eyes shifted to the side, avoiding his father’s gaze. ‘I … I took it out of my savings account yesterday. One hundred pounds.’

There hadn’t been much more than that in there to start with, Amy remembered. He’d been saving for a new guitar. Before everything had happened with Jim, she’d hoped they might be able to top up his savings so he could buy it for Christmas.

No chance of that now.

‘He took it all?’ she asked.

Jack nodded.

‘And he didn’t even have Henry.’ Claire’s words were muffled by the way she was pressed against Amy’s side, but Amy could still hear the tears in her voice.

She looked up at Jim, who stared back with an expression of frustration, waning anger and disappointment. Never a good mix.

‘Come on,’ Amy said. ‘Let’s all get home.’

‘I’ll drop you off.’ Jim’s words were a stark reminder that they weren’t a whole family any more. They were broken – a broken home.

And Amy just wasn’t sure they’d ever feel complete again. Not without Henry there.