Driving down the road my eyes jump to every shadow, every movement searching for her. Could she be lying dead somewhere. No. Don’t go there, Sal, you know Amber is still alive. You would feel it if she wasn’t. Something would leave you, drag itself from your body and fly out into the night. As of yet, that hasn’t happened. I know my baby is still alive.
Tom sits beside me silent, fear stiffening his body. I manage to utter the address of the hotel, which I overheard Burke mentioning on the phone. Tom nods.
I shouldn’t have gone to the hair show, not with everything that’s going on. Megan would have understood if I didn’t go. I should have stayed at home, taken Amber to the party, collected her when it was over. But it’s too late now. Too late for ‘I should have’.
My phone beeps, it’s Megan, texting to see if Amber is home yet? I don’t answer her.
The streets are quiet until we reach the centre of the city. The hustle and bustle of Saturday nightlife evident everywhere I look. O’Connell street is full of people, most of them drunk. A young man stumbles in front of the car when we’re stopped at the lights. He’s out of his head, slipping to the ground before his friend steps out to help him back to his feet. Jesus, he doesn’t look much older than Amber. Where the hell are his parents? Irony slaps me in the face.
The more vulnerable people I see out of control, the more nervous I become. The madness scares me. Amber should be in her bed by now, dreaming sweet dreams. Breathing softly on her pillow, wrapped comfortably in her pink duvet. So should half of these kids.
One after the other, I conduct each breath in and out of my mouth. In… out… in… out. Unable to sit easy, my body shifting in the seat. ‘Can you go any faster?’
‘I’m going as fast as I can.’
‘Faster.’
‘Sal, we don’t know for sure Amber is with the crazy woman. She may have gone someplace else, fallen asleep in someone’s house, on the sofa. It happens all the time with teenagers.’ Tom is clutching at straws, slippery straws, trying to keep the worst possibilities from drilling a deep dark hole in his head.
‘I know… I know.’ I don’t know.
The police are searching Amber’s laptop hoping to find some insight as to where she could be. A contact that we haven’t given them, someone we don’t know about.
According to Sarah she was able to meet Kenny regularly for two months and we never noticed that. Christ, we must be brutal parents. Our own daughter, meeting a stranger on a regular basis and we didn’t have a clue. I feel so guilty. When I get her back, things are going to change. I’m not spending my life chasing my tail and blow-drying everyone else’s hair, while my kids run around doing whatever they want behind my back.
After what feels like a lifetime, we pull up outside the Hotel on Burgh Quay. There’s a cop car parked outside, yellow stripes, lights flashing. Tom pulls in behind the vehicle just as two policemen walk out of the hotel entrance. One of them is holding a phone to his ear. Before Tom has a chance to switch off the engine I jump out of the car.
‘Is she here?’ I say, running towards the man in uniform. He hasn’t a clue who this mad woman is shouting at him. ‘I’m Amber’s mother. Is she here?’
The cop shakes his head, extinguishing the small flame of hope that gently shimmered inside me. For a moment I think I might collapse. My legs wobble beneath my shaking body. Vision blurs. Stop. I can’t. I don’t have Amber yet. Pull it together, Sal. More deep breaths, in out, in out, dragging strength on board. I can’t lose it now. I have to find Amber.
Tom leans forward, his hands pressing on his knees, his eyes staring at the ground. Is he going to be sick? Putting my arm across his back, I find myself consoling him for the first time since Amber disappeared.
The cops explained to us, no woman called Joyce McCarthy had checked in to the hotel. They double-checked with the station, this is definitely the hotel they have on file. Joyce McCarthy told them she was staying here, she lied.
My mind fills with darkness. Visions of Amber lying scared on the floor of some barren room enter my head. Her eyes wet with tears, her hands and feet tied. Her little body shivering with cold and fear, wondering when we’ll get there, when we’ll come to save her. ‘We’re on our way, Amber,’ I say out loud to the night, hoping my words will somehow reach her.
I want to ask how could that happen? How could someone, a suspect in a murder case, get away with giving a false address? But feeding my anger will only use up my energy, distract me from what I must do, so I let it go for now. I’ll come back to it.
‘So, Tom, what do we do now? Where do we go?’ Tom’s eyes are emptier than a field in a famine. I’ve never seen the man this broken.
‘C’mon, Tom, don’t give up, stay strong. Amber needs us.’ Dropping his head back, his eyes stare to the stars twinkling above us. His mouth opens, groaning with fear. The pain travels into the night sky drowning out all other sounds on its way.
‘Stop it, I need you. Stop it.’ My pleas float past him. He’s like a werewolf howling at the moon. I don’t know what to do.
Eventually he stops, looks at me. His eyes full of energy, fuelled by fear.
‘C’mon, Sal, let’s find our baby.’
Just as we’re about to get into the car, the second cop, the one who was on the phone, walks over. He must have reported back to Burke that we arrived at the hotel. She’s saying she wants us back to the house, they need to co-ordinate a search and they need our input. After seeing how hysterical Tom has become, the cop tells us to leave our car where it is and travel with them.
Search... Search. The word shakes my very existence. It echoes of dead bodies, buried bodies, bodies hidden in fields, sprawled amongst the brambles, bodies floating head-down in water, still waters, fresh waters. Tom is holding me up now. I’m trying to stay alive.