emergencies.’ He digs into his black rucksack and pulls out a red plastic whistle attached to a piece of string, which he places around my neck. ‘She ran off … what? … five, ten minutes ago? She can’t be far away.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Mark.’
‘Thanks, Mark,’ I call after him as we turn in different directions.
*
It’s damp and overcast. The park is almost deserted. ‘Bells,’ I shout, and keep on running. ‘Bells, where are you?’ I walk past a man wearing headphones. He won’t know where she is, will he? He might. I’d better ask. I tap him hard on the shoulder. He pulls the plugs out of his ears.
‘Excuse me, I’ve lost my sister. She’s short, about four foot something, really short hair too.’ I stare into his vacant expression, urging him to show some sign of recognition. ‘And she kind of rocks rather than walks,’ I persist. Still no reaction.
‘Nope, haven’t seen her,’ he mumbles finally as he puts his music back on. I see a couple ahead of me. The girl has her hand tucked into the back pocket of her boyfriend’s jeans. ‘Um, hello … hey, you!’ I run after them. They turn around in surprise. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve lost my sister. She’s short, have you seen her?’ I ask with pleading eyes. Please say you have.
‘What’s she wearing?’ the girl asks.
What’s she wearing? Good question. ‘A little embroidered hat and dungarees,’ I describe breathlessly. When I get no response, I add, ‘And some sort of football shirt with stickers on.’
‘You’re having me on.’ The boy smiles at me. ‘Is this some kind of joke? We’re on some funny game show, right?
Graham Norton
?’ He starts darting his head around looking for the hidden cameras.
I stare at him hard and pin my hopes on the girl. She chews gum thoughtfully and then shrugs her shoulders. ‘We’ve only just got here. Good luck finding her, though.’ As I watch them walk on, her hand back in his pocket, I realize this is one of those moments, you know, when you see someone break down and feel so lucky that it’s not you. You drive on. Now I feel like the girl who’s broken down in her battered old car and no one is offering to help. No rescue team, no phone, no one’s that interested. I fumble in my handbag for my mobile and then realize I don’t have a clue who to ring. Sam? I wait for him to answer.
‘I’m in a meeting. I’ll call later. Remember, I’m out tonight,’ Sam finishes helpfully.
‘She’s run away,’ I say, my eyes staring ahead. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘Katie, I’m sorry, but what can I do stuck behind my frigging desk? Do you want me to come and help you look for her?’ he says, as if the idea is absurd.
‘No, Sam. That would make you a nice person.’ I hang up abruptly. I don’t even know why I called him. If Bells comes back I’ll tell her that it doesn’t matter. What are a few labels? I can sew them back on, no one will know. Come back, Bells. Please come back. There is no one else I can call. It’s like living in our own little world again, shut away from what’s normal.
‘’Scuse me … she’s twenty-two, four foot ten …’ I describe her to the next person I meet. I can’t see what other people look like any more. I just want to see Bells.
‘No, I haven’t seen her,’ he says.
WHY NOT? I want to scream at him. WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU?
‘I’m sure a twenty-two-year-old can look after themselves,’ he mutters as he slopes off.
I call Dad though I know it’s crazy. What can he do when he’s not even in the country? I listen to the ringing tone but there’s no answer. He promised me he would have his mobile switched on in case of an emergency. I put a hand to my mouth and let out a long desperate wailing noise, I don’t know what to do, who to ask, where to look …
‘I’ve lost my sister. Have you seen my little sister?’ I ask a lady sitting on a bench reading a newspaper. The familiar sound of the train
‘What’s your name?’
‘Mark.’
‘Thanks, Mark,’ I call after him as we turn in different directions.
*
It’s damp and overcast. The park is almost deserted. ‘Bells,’ I shout, and keep on running. ‘Bells, where are you?’ I walk past a man wearing headphones. He won’t know where she is, will he? He might. I’d better ask. I tap him hard on the shoulder. He pulls the plugs out of his ears.
‘Excuse me, I’ve lost my sister. She’s short, about four foot something, really short hair too.’ I stare into his vacant expression, urging him to show some sign of recognition. ‘And she kind of rocks rather than walks,’ I persist. Still no reaction.
‘Nope, haven’t seen her,’ he mumbles finally as he puts his music back on. I see a couple ahead of me. The girl has her hand tucked into the back pocket of her boyfriend’s jeans. ‘Um, hello … hey, you!’ I run after them. They turn around in surprise. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve lost my sister. She’s short, have you seen her?’ I ask with pleading eyes. Please say you have.
‘What’s she wearing?’ the girl asks.
What’s she wearing? Good question. ‘A little embroidered hat and dungarees,’ I describe breathlessly. When I get no response, I add, ‘And some sort of football shirt with stickers on.’
‘You’re having me on.’ The boy smiles at me. ‘Is this some kind of joke? We’re on some funny game show, right?
Graham Norton
?’ He starts darting his head around looking for the hidden cameras.
I stare at him hard and pin my hopes on the girl. She chews gum thoughtfully and then shrugs her shoulders. ‘We’ve only just got here. Good luck finding her, though.’ As I watch them walk on, her hand back in his pocket, I realize this is one of those moments, you know, when you see someone break down and feel so lucky that it’s not you. You drive on. Now I feel like the girl who’s broken down in her battered old car and no one is offering to help. No rescue team, no phone, no one’s that interested. I fumble in my handbag for my mobile and then realize I don’t have a clue who to ring. Sam? I wait for him to answer.
‘I’m in a meeting. I’ll call later. Remember, I’m out tonight,’ Sam finishes helpfully.
‘She’s run away,’ I say, my eyes staring ahead. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘Katie, I’m sorry, but what can I do stuck behind my frigging desk? Do you want me to come and help you look for her?’ he says, as if the idea is absurd.
‘No, Sam. That would make you a nice person.’ I hang up abruptly. I don’t even know why I called him. If Bells comes back I’ll tell her that it doesn’t matter. What are a few labels? I can sew them back on, no one will know. Come back, Bells. Please come back. There is no one else I can call. It’s like living in our own little world again, shut away from what’s normal.
‘’Scuse me … she’s twenty-two, four foot ten …’ I describe her to the next person I meet. I can’t see what other people look like any more. I just want to see Bells.
‘No, I haven’t seen her,’ he says.
WHY NOT? I want to scream at him. WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU?
‘I’m sure a twenty-two-year-old can look after themselves,’ he mutters as he slopes off.
I call Dad though I know it’s crazy. What can he do when he’s not even in the country? I listen to the ringing tone but there’s no answer. He promised me he would have his mobile switched on in case of an emergency. I put a hand to my mouth and let out a long desperate wailing noise, I don’t know what to do, who to ask, where to look …
‘I’ve lost my sister. Have you seen my little sister?’ I ask a lady sitting on a bench reading a newspaper. The familiar sound of the train
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