terrifying, the only way down being to leap into the unknown. For a second, she allowed the ice cold terror to creep back in and the realisation struck her, as though for the first time, that this was for real. That Mack really had run away, that he was scared and – the thing that brought on the ice cold terror – Simone now felt sure that Mack must have good reason. His mum had been so strange, so remote and cagey. Whether or not she knew where Mack had gone, Simone was certain the woman was hiding something important. Mack had not lost his mind, but he had left his life behind and bought a false identity from a man he had never met. She screwed her eyes shut and the loose, contradictory strands of Mack’s life whipped around her mind. His warmth, his humour, the true, undeniable love she had seen in his eyes mixed with Russian clothing and stolen passports and a birth certificate belonging to a young woman with a foreign name. Something bad was happening, and it was happening to Mack and to her and to the people they loved. Warm coffee shops with acoustic music on the sound system and flyers on the walls for open mic comedy nights were not her world any more. Maybe Jazzy had it right. Maybe it was time to start playing a part; the part of somebody who confronted bad things head on, who found lost people and who protected the innocent.
And, she realised that that person would not phone ahead and give the lost person warning that they were coming. If Mack was with Dan and Melissa, then he would leave as soon as he thought she or anyone else had found him. The one thing he had wanted her not to do was to come looking. The only way that she might find him there was to go and see for herself if that was where he was hiding, and if he was not there, then to get out and away from those innocent people and their safe lives and take her trouble far away from them.
Chapter Ten
‘Rory’s uncle?’ Jazzy stared at the woman, uncomprehending. ‘Which uncle?’
Realising that he was unlikely to manage anything useful with the rest of his day even if he did make it back to the office before four o’clock, he had decided to go straight from Ayanna’s college to Rory’s nursery and pick him up. Petra had a late meeting so might not be home until seven. He pictured getting home, changing Rory’s nappy, feeding him some mashed up slop, giving him a quick bath then sitting down with him to watch The Simpsons. No mysteries, no questions, no fake identities for mysterious under-age girls; nothing more complicated than which particular jar of organic, vitamin-enriched slop he should choose to feed him with and which pair of pyjamas might be clean. All he wanted, for the few hours before he could reasonably go to bed, was to be able to pretend that everything was normal, until he had to get up in the morning and try to work out what the hell he was going to do next.
But when he had arrived at the converted Victorian Methodist church that housed the private nursery, the girl who answered the door to him had immediately looked worried. Jazzy’s heart had flipped, scenarios involving falls from bookshelves or choking on afternoon snacks flooding his mind, but the girl had simply said, ‘Oh, you’re a bit early, Mr Hammett. Rory’s still having his sleep, but Julie wanted a word with you anyway. Is that OK?’
Julie was the manager, a plump, breezy woman with the kind, brisk manner of a nurse who is about to remove a wart. As she had showed Jazzy into her office, his mind had been only half on where he was and who he was with; part of his mind was still blank with confusion over Mack, and partly he was already wondering if he might really get lucky and that tonight’s Simpsons episode might be one he had not seen before. He had assumed Julie wanted to speak to him about money – any time any of the staff wanted to speak to him or Petra it was about money. The fees had gone up, they had to pay extra for sun cream, they had to pay
And, she realised that that person would not phone ahead and give the lost person warning that they were coming. If Mack was with Dan and Melissa, then he would leave as soon as he thought she or anyone else had found him. The one thing he had wanted her not to do was to come looking. The only way that she might find him there was to go and see for herself if that was where he was hiding, and if he was not there, then to get out and away from those innocent people and their safe lives and take her trouble far away from them.
Chapter Ten
‘Rory’s uncle?’ Jazzy stared at the woman, uncomprehending. ‘Which uncle?’
Realising that he was unlikely to manage anything useful with the rest of his day even if he did make it back to the office before four o’clock, he had decided to go straight from Ayanna’s college to Rory’s nursery and pick him up. Petra had a late meeting so might not be home until seven. He pictured getting home, changing Rory’s nappy, feeding him some mashed up slop, giving him a quick bath then sitting down with him to watch The Simpsons. No mysteries, no questions, no fake identities for mysterious under-age girls; nothing more complicated than which particular jar of organic, vitamin-enriched slop he should choose to feed him with and which pair of pyjamas might be clean. All he wanted, for the few hours before he could reasonably go to bed, was to be able to pretend that everything was normal, until he had to get up in the morning and try to work out what the hell he was going to do next.
But when he had arrived at the converted Victorian Methodist church that housed the private nursery, the girl who answered the door to him had immediately looked worried. Jazzy’s heart had flipped, scenarios involving falls from bookshelves or choking on afternoon snacks flooding his mind, but the girl had simply said, ‘Oh, you’re a bit early, Mr Hammett. Rory’s still having his sleep, but Julie wanted a word with you anyway. Is that OK?’
Julie was the manager, a plump, breezy woman with the kind, brisk manner of a nurse who is about to remove a wart. As she had showed Jazzy into her office, his mind had been only half on where he was and who he was with; part of his mind was still blank with confusion over Mack, and partly he was already wondering if he might really get lucky and that tonight’s Simpsons episode might be one he had not seen before. He had assumed Julie wanted to speak to him about money – any time any of the staff wanted to speak to him or Petra it was about money. The fees had gone up, they had to pay extra for sun cream, they had to pay
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