SAM
The plods turned up quickly. A man and a woman. They were very professional and quick, taking descriptions of the kids and then relaying a whole lot of coded gobbledygook into their radio to other officers who were on their way. Ed tried to call Kate but her phone was off.
‘When’s she due back home?’ the female bobby asked me.
‘Five o’clock.’ It was three thirty. The light was getting low.
Had we seen anyone suspicious?
No.
When they’d finished asking questions we asked the police if we could keep looking ourselves. We had to do something!
‘Someone can’t have taken them, Ed, surely.’ I desperately wanted reassurance as we walked out of the park.
‘They’d be mad to, they’re a nightmare,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘Anyway, I can’t bear to think about it so let’s imagine they’ve wandered off and got lost.’ He bit the side of his thumb and then turned to me.
‘We’ve got to think like them, Sam. Imagine what they’ve been doing.’
For a moment, I could almost have been watching an episode of The Bill but it was just a moment, and in the chilly air and gathering darkness I felt the same cold fear I’d felt in the hospital with Mara, to the power of ten. Around me was the quiet, unassuming street and in my head was Kate’s face when we told her we couldn’t find Luke and Rosie.
Ed stopped at the railing of the park. ‘Rosie follows Luke everywhere so she wouldn’t go off on her own. So it would have been Luke who wandered off, with Rosie following.’
I felt like screaming and clawing at the ground in despair and here was Ed thinking rationally through the problem at hand, trying to navigate a sensible path. I held onto Ed’s arm, as if by touch I could have some of his strength.
‘Where would Luke want to go?’ he asked me.
I pictured Luke’s compact little body that morning, in his funky adult-style jeans and red anorak, his hair a blond thatch, roaring around being a fire engine.
‘Ice cream!’ Ed exclaimed.
‘Huh?’
‘All day he was on at us about getting an ice cream, the little freak. It’s so cold.’
I remembered Kate crouching down next to Luke and putting some coins into his pocket. She was good friends with her kids even though they were little. I loved the way she could hang out with them and loved other people hanging out with them too. My eyes clouded over for the thousandth time in ten minutes.
‘Sam? Are you listening to me?’ Ed shook me roughly by the shoulder. I looked up, my eyes full of tears.
‘Kate – oh my God – she’s—’ I choked.
‘Sam, listen carefully, this is important. Have. You. Taken. Luke. For. Ice. Cream. Round. Here. Before?’ He looked steadily into my eyes, willing me to rewind carefully through my memory.
I looked around me, from desolate to feverish in an instant. I was going mad. Where were they? Where were they?
‘Sam! Pull yourself together!’ Ed shouted.
I flinched but it worked. I began to think a little clearer. I looked at the park. Luke. Ice cream. Of course! I had taken him, lots of times.
‘There’s a shop just around the corner, this way.’
We set off running to the shop, down the road, then left down a quiet street. There was the corner shop, warm light spilling onto the footpath. My spirits rose as we drew close; they must be here, they must be.
Inside it was warm and smelt of curry. But the barrel-tummied man behind the counter hadn’t seen the kids.
Was he sure?
Yes, quite sure.
That boy Luke, such a little character, a pretty mum, very polite, and the little sister like a dumpling. No, not here.
We left the shop, our fear ratcheted up another notch, our heartbeats going just that much faster. Ed stood outside, looking down the street.
‘Let’s go back to where they came from and think again.’
*
It was three forty-five.
Luke could hear the wind outside, blowing little sticks and leaves against the door. He had banged and yelled at the door for what felt like a long time. Now Rosie sat on the bottom step, quietly snivelling. The cat had come down to investigate and sat a couple of steps up from them, its body a round shape in the murky darkness, its eyes glinting at them from time to time. Luke liked the cat being close. It was almost completely dark at the bottom of the stairs and so, so quiet inside. Further up the stairwell a faint light came in the window but the window faced the park, not the street, so the only light coming in was the London light.
From time to time Luke banged on the door and yelled again. It was very loud in the stairwell but his hands on the door sounded muffled, and Luke had a feeling that when he banged you couldn’t really hear it on the other side.
Their tummies gurgled. It was cold. Luke’s feet were damp inside his boots. Rosie didn’t smell good; she’d done a poo in her nappy. He sat right next to her with his arm around her and sang all her favourite nursery rhymes, all in a row, even the most babyish ones. Then he ran out of things to sing. He tried singing ‘Hush little baby don’t say a word’ but his voice went squeaky and sad, and tears got in the way. That was Mummy’s song. He pushed his tears back; he knew he had to be brave for Rosie.
*
Ed and I went back to the park. Police officers were working their way down the street, knocking on doors, asking people for information. Ed stood by the gate to the park again, and then took his phone out and started punching buttons.
‘Who are you calling?’
‘Mara.’
My stomach clenched tighter. ‘You can’t do that! She’ll completely freak out.’ But it was too late.
‘Mars? It’s me. I can’t talk for long, we’re at the park with the kids and they’ve wandered off . . . we were watching them . . . look, Mars, we’ll talk about this later but can you think of anywhere they might have gone?’ Ed held the phone out from his ear as Mara gave her response. ‘Mars, Mars, calm down. Of course we’ll find them . . . Look, I’ll see you later.’
He stuffed his phone into his pocket. ‘That wasn’t a good idea.’
‘I did try to tell you.’
Ed turned around yet again, scouring the park, the street, the view of the playground they had from the gate, searching, searching.
I was thinking about Luke. About his stomach.
‘This has to have something to do with food.’ I frowned at the street. ‘Maybe they didn’t get to the shop but perhaps we should follow their footsteps again in that direction. I just can’t see how Luke would leave the playground for anything other than food.’
‘OK.’ Ed was earnest, desperate for some kind of plan.
I turned towards the shop. ‘They had to have gone down this way. It’s the only way Luke knows, I’m pretty sure of that.’
We set off, passing the police officer who’d originally answered their call talking to a woman on her front step. The street was a mixture of terraces, interspersed with a few more modern buildings used as offices. From the park, heading towards the shop, there was a terrace of about ten houses.
‘They’ve got little legs so they probably felt like they’d gone quite far by now.’ We were walking slowly, at Luke’s and Rosie’s pace. The terrace stopped; we’d come to a wide driveway that went down to a car-park building. A few yards further down the road was the left turn to the shop. We looked down the driveway to the car-park building and turned to each other.
‘What if—’ And we sprinted down the driveway towards the building. It was very dark and the building felt big, dark and industrial. Away from the street, it was quiet. We couldn’t hear the radios of the police officers, just the wind, eddying around concrete. The car access to the building was firmly shut with large metal grills.
‘Rosie? Luke?’ we called out, peering around the building, looking for little hidey-holes. The driveway ended in a concrete turning bay and a high solid wall. No way for little legs to get over that . . . and then on the wind we heard a muffled banging.
‘Luke! Rosie!’ We ran towards the sound. At the end of the building was a door. We reached for the handle but it was locked! Pressing our ears to the door, we could hear muffled banging and yelling – it was Luke!
‘Luke, Rosie, we’ll get you out of there!’ Ed rattled the door while I ran up the street yelling all the way. ‘We’ve found them, they’re in here!’
Officers ran over from the other side of the street and three reached the door before me.
‘I can’t get them out. The door. It’s locked.’ Ed was straining at the door, his eyes wild. My heart beat faster as I could hear the little voices hollering behind the door.
From the street came the sound of a car driving fast. It turned down the driveway, its headlights lighting up the scene at the door – a frantic uncle, three composed officers and me. A wiry officer got out with a crowbar and with a couple of deft movements the door was open.
There was Luke, holding Rosie’s hand, both with tears marking their cheeks. Ed dropped to the ground, tears running down his own face as he held them both tight, and then I joined them, wrapping my arms around all three of them. From the corner of my eye I was vaguely aware of an orange cat scampering away into the evening.
‘It’s all OK,’ Ed finally managed to say as he sat back on his heels, hastily trying to wipe his tears away with shaking hands.
And Luke remembered the most important thing.
‘Can we have our ice cream now?’