A Line of Blood by Ben McPherson Page A

that I would need to call her. I called again. Four rings, voicemail.
    My parents’ flat was unchanged from the day I left home twenty-two years ago. Same fridge, same photographs on the walls, same furniture. It wasn’t for lack of money. They’d done well for themselves. But they had known what they liked back then, and they had never stopped liking it. Continuity. Restraint.
    Where is Millicent?
    I rang our home phone. It rang for the longest time.
    There was a worn patch on the carpet by the side of the sofa where my mother liked to sit, and another by my father’s smoking chair.
    Answer the phone.
    Two decades of pipe smoke had gently curled across the flat, coating every white surface in a warm sepia, damping down the pillar-box red of the living-room curtains, the cobalt blue of the silk counterpanes in the bedrooms with which my mother had, rebelliously, accented their home.
Answer the phone, Millicent.
    It was Max who answered.
    ‘Max, it’s Dad.’
    ‘You woke me up. Is Grandpa dead?’
    ‘It was peaceful, Max. He died in his sleep.’
    ‘Oh,’ said Max.
    ‘Are you OK, Max?’
    ‘Yes,’ he said.
    ‘I love you very much, Max.’
    ‘I love you too, Dad,’ he said dutifully.
    ‘Can you get Mum?’
    I heard him put the receiver down, could make out the sound of his footsteps as he went back upstairs to wake Millicent.
How can you sleep at a time like this?
    I looked out into the night. Large windows, wide streets, sandstone solidity. Safe, I thought. Very safe.
    ‘Dad?’
    ‘Yes, Max.’
    ‘Dad, she’s not here.’
    ‘Have you checked in the garden? She could be in the garden.’
    ‘It’s raining.’
    ‘Can you check in the garden, please, Max?’
    ‘But why would she be in the garden? It’s raining.’
    ‘Please check the garden, Max. Now.’
    ‘But what if she’s not there, Dad? What if something’s happened to her?’ I was scaring him. This wasn’t good.
    ‘We’ll figure it out, Max. She might have gone to the shops.’
    ‘OK.’ Max put down the receiver again. Of course Millicent hadn’t gone to the shops. I shouldn’t be exposing my son to my fears like this.
    Where was she?
    Max picked up the phone again.
    ‘Dad, Dad, she’s not here. She’s not in the garden. Dad, can you come home?’
    It’s happening again, I thought.
Please God, don’t let it happen again.
I considered ringing Fab5 and asking him to go round, but Millicent would view it as a betrayal. She would hate me for exposing her like that. Who could I ring, though? Certainly not the police.
    I had to keep the fear out of my voice. ‘Max,’ I said. ‘Max, listen to me. I want you to do something for me.’
Measure your words.
‘I want you to go back to bed, and I want you to make sure your alarm clock is set for half past seven, and at exactly half past seven I want you to wake up and go into our bedroom, and you’ll find that Mum is there and everything is OK.’
    ‘Can’t I go and stay with Tarek?’ said Max.
    ‘No, love, no.’ Tarek’s parents might call the police. ‘I need you to do what I say, Max-Man. OK?’
    ‘I swear on my life I won’t say why.’
    ‘Max, it’s the middle of the night. I need you to go back to bed. I need you to promise me that.’
There is no one to call.
    ‘Why should I?’
    ‘Because in the morning this will all be OK. Trust me, Max-Man.’
    ‘Can you come home, Dad?’
    ‘I’ll take the first train. That’s a promise. Stay at home till I get there. I’ll walk you to school and explain to Mr Sharpe.’
    ‘But you said Mum would be there.’
    ‘She will.’
    ‘But then you said to wait until you come, so you think she might not come.’
    ‘She will come, Max.’
Please God, let her be there.
    ‘Can’t you take a plane, Dad?’
    ‘The train is quicker. I’ll be there as soon as I can, Max.’
    ‘All right.’
    ‘I love you very much, Max,’ I said, but he had gone.
    I sat staring at my phone for a time. Then I texted Millicent.
     
Max is scared.