how watery her eyes were. And she yawned loudly and stretched and made sleepy wake-up noises.
Only after he’d left did she let herself cry. And even then, only when she was in the shower, so the water rushing over her head would wash the tears away.
Then she got dressed as if she were going to school and put on lots of eye make-up to cover up her red eyes. Micky would notice otherwise. And she’d say something… and keep going on about it like a dog with a bone. She was like that.
Now Claire was ready. She took her school backpack and ran down the stairs and she poked her head round the kitchen door. “Bye. I’m off.” Trying to sound normal.
“Claire. Wait.”
“Sorry, Dad. Can’t. Going to be late.” God, she thought, just listen to me. I’m making it sound like everything’s all right. That my little brother
isn’t
missing. That I’m not about to do something really risky.
“Need you to drop Micky at school.” Her Dad sounded desperate and Micky was looking at her hopefully. Her eyes big and dark.
She sidled across the kitchen and pushed her hand, which felt small and hot and vulnerable, into Claire’s.
“Just had a call from the police…” Claire’s face must have dropped, because her dad said hurriedly, “No. It’s nothing. They just need to talk. Look, just take Micky to school for me will you? That’s all I’m asking.”
“But, Dad, I can’t.” She looked at his face and gave in. “Oh, all right then.” She had hours to kill, so why not take Micky to school?
Micky held her hand tight all the way, even though she’d be starting secondary school after the summer holidays. Even though
before all this had happened
she’d have rather died than hold her big sister’s hand in public. But when they got in sight of the gates, Micky suddenly pulled free.
“That’s okay, you can leave me now. Dad leaves me here and I walk the last bit on my own.”
“Fine. Your call.”
Micky nodded and had already turned away when Claire caught hold of her sleeve and said, “Love you.”
Micky looked surprised. A bit pink. Pleased. Claire gave a little half wave and turned andwalked away, blinking back more tears.
She headed for the common and went and sat at the far side of it, where the close-cropped grass gave way to a tangle of rhododendrons… the last flowers fading and turning brown. Thank God it wasn’t raining. She took a book out of her backpack and opened it, but the words just danced and blurred on the page and were meaningless. She couldn’t even text or call anyone. What on earth would she say to them?
There was a text from Joe.
See you there at 12.
One from Jacalyn, but she didn’t open it. Better not to think about Jacalyn and how she’d deliberately kept her in the dark about everything. But she had to put Matthew’s safety first, didn’t she? His safety was the only thing she cared about.
The hours passed slowly. Creaking towards twelve o’clock when her phone alarm would go off and she would get up and go to the café and wait.
The sun was getting hotter. She was starting to feel drowsy. Her eyelids kept wanting to shut. She was desperate to keep them open. Torture.She couldn’t allow herself to sleep. Supposing she didn’t hear the phone alarm? She turned and twisted the ring round on her finger. Why did it feel so loose and cool now? Couldn’t it sense what was going to happen?
At ten minutes to twelve she packed away her book and checked the sleeping pills were still in the right-hand front pocket of her jeans. Then she stood up and brushed the grass off her bum and shouldered her backpack and headed towards the café. She bought a long cold drink… nothing with caffeine in it. Then she sat outside, placed the three tablets in a neat row next to her drink and waited.
At twelve o’clock exactly, her ring started to feel tight and hot and she saw him coming towards her. He was alone. No accomplice and no sign of Matthew. No sign of Joe yet either.
She
Only after he’d left did she let herself cry. And even then, only when she was in the shower, so the water rushing over her head would wash the tears away.
Then she got dressed as if she were going to school and put on lots of eye make-up to cover up her red eyes. Micky would notice otherwise. And she’d say something… and keep going on about it like a dog with a bone. She was like that.
Now Claire was ready. She took her school backpack and ran down the stairs and she poked her head round the kitchen door. “Bye. I’m off.” Trying to sound normal.
“Claire. Wait.”
“Sorry, Dad. Can’t. Going to be late.” God, she thought, just listen to me. I’m making it sound like everything’s all right. That my little brother
isn’t
missing. That I’m not about to do something really risky.
“Need you to drop Micky at school.” Her Dad sounded desperate and Micky was looking at her hopefully. Her eyes big and dark.
She sidled across the kitchen and pushed her hand, which felt small and hot and vulnerable, into Claire’s.
“Just had a call from the police…” Claire’s face must have dropped, because her dad said hurriedly, “No. It’s nothing. They just need to talk. Look, just take Micky to school for me will you? That’s all I’m asking.”
“But, Dad, I can’t.” She looked at his face and gave in. “Oh, all right then.” She had hours to kill, so why not take Micky to school?
Micky held her hand tight all the way, even though she’d be starting secondary school after the summer holidays. Even though
before all this had happened
she’d have rather died than hold her big sister’s hand in public. But when they got in sight of the gates, Micky suddenly pulled free.
“That’s okay, you can leave me now. Dad leaves me here and I walk the last bit on my own.”
“Fine. Your call.”
Micky nodded and had already turned away when Claire caught hold of her sleeve and said, “Love you.”
Micky looked surprised. A bit pink. Pleased. Claire gave a little half wave and turned andwalked away, blinking back more tears.
She headed for the common and went and sat at the far side of it, where the close-cropped grass gave way to a tangle of rhododendrons… the last flowers fading and turning brown. Thank God it wasn’t raining. She took a book out of her backpack and opened it, but the words just danced and blurred on the page and were meaningless. She couldn’t even text or call anyone. What on earth would she say to them?
There was a text from Joe.
See you there at 12.
One from Jacalyn, but she didn’t open it. Better not to think about Jacalyn and how she’d deliberately kept her in the dark about everything. But she had to put Matthew’s safety first, didn’t she? His safety was the only thing she cared about.
The hours passed slowly. Creaking towards twelve o’clock when her phone alarm would go off and she would get up and go to the café and wait.
The sun was getting hotter. She was starting to feel drowsy. Her eyelids kept wanting to shut. She was desperate to keep them open. Torture.She couldn’t allow herself to sleep. Supposing she didn’t hear the phone alarm? She turned and twisted the ring round on her finger. Why did it feel so loose and cool now? Couldn’t it sense what was going to happen?
At ten minutes to twelve she packed away her book and checked the sleeping pills were still in the right-hand front pocket of her jeans. Then she stood up and brushed the grass off her bum and shouldered her backpack and headed towards the café. She bought a long cold drink… nothing with caffeine in it. Then she sat outside, placed the three tablets in a neat row next to her drink and waited.
At twelve o’clock exactly, her ring started to feel tight and hot and she saw him coming towards her. He was alone. No accomplice and no sign of Matthew. No sign of Joe yet either.
She
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