Since You've Been Gone by Mary Jennifer Payne Page A

okay?” Jermaine asks from the bottom of the stairs.
    â€œI’m just being careful,” I retort. “It’s not exactly the safest thing in the world that we’re doing, you know.” Hopefully he can’t tell I’m completely terrified.
    Jermaine shrugs his shoulders and watches me continue my snail-like descent, a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
    I join him a few seconds later, both of us leaning against the railings, me still breathing heavily from both the run and the sheer terror of navigating the stairs.
    I look down the river at the boats scurrying along and the tall wharf buildings that dot the waterfront and suddenly feel so tiny and insignificant standing there. A wave of sadness mixed with anger sweeps over me and I back away, tears threatening to race down my cheeks.
    â€œWhat’s up?”
    I shake my head. I can’t speak. It feels as though someone has sucked my voice away. If I open my mouth, tears will follow. And tears are the last thing I need at this time.
    â€œHey, don’t worry. There’s no way that lady will be able to find us, even if she decides to try.”
    â€œIt’s not that,” I say. My voice cracks and I pause for a moment. “It’s just … I’m positive something terrible has happened to Mom.”
    And that’s when Jermaine puts his arm around me. That’s right — his arm goes around my shoulders and for a split second I forget about everything else except the electrical feeling I’m getting from our bodies touching.
    â€œNaw, couldn’t be. If something really bad happened to her, we’d be seeing it on the front of the papers and on the telly and everything.”
    I appreciate his attempt to make me feel better, but every time I shut my eyes, all I see is my dad’s angry face the night we left and all I remember is the feeling of his fingers wrapped around my arm like a boa constrictor.
    â€œC’mon. We’re going to find her. You’ll see.” The concern in Jermaine’s voice pulls me back to the present, back to the seemingly constant rain of London and the pleasant heaviness of his arm around my shoulder.
    I nod. Tears are forming in my eyes, blurring my vision. I wipe at them with the sleeve of my coat, feeling like a little kid.
    â€œSorry,” I say. “I guess the worry is getting to me. I haven’t been able to sleep well since she’s been gone.” My nose is running and I’m in need of a tissue badly. Mortifying. Now he’s going to see me with a drippy, snotty nose: definitely not my most attractive moment.
    â€œLook. We got decent information back there,” Jermaine says. “That bird said your mum was up in Camden, right? So that’s where we go with the photograph.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Jermaine looks at his watch. “It’s not even eleven. I’m starved. Why don’t we grab something to eat and then go to Camden?”
    I discreetly wipe my nose with the back of my hand.
    â€œSounds brilliant,” I say, trying my London speak for the first time. I feel stronger all of a sudden; I know what I need to do.

CHAPTER 18

    B y the time we emerge from Cutty Sark Station, the rain has stopped and the sun is desperately trying to push its way through the grey meringue of clouds. The sun coming out might be a sign that something positive is going to happen. At least that’s what I tell myself.
    There’s a Subway restaurant directly across from the tube station, a reminder of life back in Canada. My stomach aches with longing.
    â€œHungry?” Jermaine asks.
    â€œFamished,” I reply. And, for the first time in a while, I really do have an appetite.
    Once inside, we practically throw ourselves at the spotty girl standing behind the counter as the smell of roasted meat and baked bread overwhelms us.
    â€œAll right?” she asks, her voice thick with boredom. She twists a lock