Chasing Charlie (31 page)

CLAUDIA

After much searching, I found the thick woollen hat that had been given to me in good faith by the stolid Tante Helga ‘für za English vinter'. It had been languishing unused in the bottom of a blanket box. Far too lumpy and practical for me, scoring a zero on my style scale. As I was rummaging I wondered if I'd actually been brave enough to throw it out but no, there it was. I tucked my hair up inside the hat and then wound a scarf around my neck. Right. Mirror time. I was amazed. I really did look like someone else, plain and tired. I wrestled with myself as I eyed my make-up for the briefest moments, then opened my compact and dabbed a little foundation on. That was a bit better. Still plain but at least I didn't look completely knackered too. I just couldn't bring myself to go out without any make-up on at all.

I dug out an old black coat from the cupboard and pulled it on over the top of my jeans and checked again. Not bad. I looked tidy but nondescript. Most importantly not like my usual self. Exactly what I was aiming for. Stuffing keys and wallet into my pockets, and putting on dark glasses, I pulled the door to the flat closed.

I couldn't contain my excitement. I felt it welling up as I trotted along the road towards the Tube, like it did when I was a child and was being taken out. I checked my phone again. John would be in position now, in a café diagonally across the road from the restaurant where Rebecca was meeting her date for lunch. He would call me as soon as he saw her arrive, at which point I would make sure I was at the window. I had done an extensive recce the day before and discovered a clothes shop opposite the café that was perfect. It not only had the right sort of clothes for a nondescript sort of woman to idle endlessly looking at but upstairs there was a window overlooking the street and the restaurant! Brilliant. With any luck they might even dine in the window – even better. At the very least I would see her enter with her lover or at least leave with him.

I arrived at the clothes shop ten minutes early, passing John, who winked at me exaggeratedly, on the way. I started looking on the ground floor, slowly sliding one garment at a time along the racks. At the time Rebecca was due to arrive, I went upstairs, directly to the rack closest to the window, nervously waiting for my phone to start vibrating in my pocket. And there it was! I stepped quickly to the window, whipping out the phone to check – yes, it was John. I didn't answer – that wasn't the plan. Sure enough, there she was, stepping along in a perfectly straight line but, dammit, alone. I watched her go into the restaurant with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever. She didn't even check the name, I mused. She'd obviously been there before. I hovered for a couple of minutes, waiting to see if Rebecca would take a table in the window. When she didn't, I went downstairs, having a half-hearted look at the sales table – even in disguise I didn't want to be seen as rude or dodgy – and joined John at the café next door.

‘Well, the bird has landed,' I said breathlessly as I sat down.

‘Indeed, but without her mate. So what's next? Do we wait around for her to finish?'

I looked around me and pulled a face. ‘They could be all afternoon, and I've got other ideas for our Saturday.' I leant forward and kissed him lightly.

John's eyes lit up.

‘So . . .' I sat in silence for a while, looking out the window, aware of John's eyes roving all over me, but still wanting to complete this mission. I just had to know if it was Ed Rebecca was having lunch with. Surely all this silly flirting between them hadn't come to anything? Both of them had been playing games. Ed had only spent time with Rebecca to try to make Sam jealous and Rebecca had done something approximating the same thing, although for goodness only knew what reason. That woman. But even if it never happened between Ed and Sam, it would be awful if he ended up with Rebecca. A complete disaster.

Then I had it! I whipped away from the window.

‘I'll go in and ask to use the loo.'

‘They'll send you down the street to the Tube station.'

‘I'll pretend that I'm preggers!'

John grinned. ‘Oh yes? You and your enormous stomach?'

‘I could be in my first tri-whatsit. When you don't show but need the loo a lot anyway.'

John raised his eyebrows.

‘Lots of my friends have moaned about it to me over the years,' I added hastily.

John's eyebrows remained uplifted.

‘Don't look at me like that.'

He released his brows.

‘Thank you.'

‘You know, the night you told me about the unmentionable STI, I thought you were going to tell me you were pregnant.'

‘Really?' I squeaked. I thought back to that painful night and, with a start, I remembered his expectant face. ‘I'd forgotten all about that. You looked so happy before I told you . . . the news.'

‘Exactly!'

I blushed.

‘And I was upset,' John continued, ‘not because of the STI per se but because you weren't pregnant . . . which meant there wasn't a really good reason for you to be with me. It meant you were, once again, slipping out of my reach.'

I squeaked again and stood up. ‘My God, you make a girl go all queer with all of your lovey-dovey talk.' I chucked on my coat.

‘What – are you going now?'

‘No time like the present.' I couldn't sit much longer in the café. I was burning to find out who this damn date was and after all those intense looks from John's sparkling peepers I had to get the hell out of this café and get my man home.

‘But what if Ed isn't there yet?'

‘It might not be him.'

‘Isn't that why we're here?'

‘Yes, but I'm still holding out hope it won't be him.'

‘With all you've told me about him, he really doesn't sound like Rebecca's type.'

‘Exactly, which is why it's really important his best mates are on to him so we can try to put him off, if he is actually seeing her.'

John shook his head at me. He thought I was mad with all this meddling. But he was smiling.

‘It's only been ten minutes.'

I went round to his side of the table and kissed his forehead.

‘If it is Ed, he'll be there. He's a Minkley so he's always on time. And I am a woman of action and I can't sit still a minute longer. I will take the plunge!' I extended my arm out straight, fist clenched, in the direction of the door and left, following my closed fist outside. The staff looked on at me bemused.

Inside I could see right away that Rebecca was alone, sitting at a small table, looking expectantly at the door. The fact she was on her own was excellent news but her obvious door watching immediately put paid to the plan to use their toilet. I didn't want to risk her recognising my voice. So, thankful for the dark glasses that I'd kept on as I entered, I took my phone out as if taking a call and went straight out the door again. I almost collided with a very smooth-looking toff coming in but I was so intent on getting away, worried that I might have been recognised, that I only managed a muttered sorry. I scurried back to John, hissing at him to move away from the window.

‘I don't think she recognised me – I hope not – but she was looking at the door when I came in.'

‘Don't tell me, because she was alone?'

‘Yes, dammit. Why didn't I listen to you?'

‘I have no idea, Crunchy. But I saw someone interesting.'

‘Oh?'

‘The guy who bumped into you on the way out . . .'

I shut my eyes in concentration. For a moment I couldn't remember; the adrenalin from my mission was making it hard to think straight.

‘Oh, the toff, very handsome, floppy hair.'

‘Not too handsome, I hope, but yes, that's the one. I've met him before. He dated a friend's sister, I think. I'll remember his name in a minute.'

‘Is that all?'

‘Well, I thought it was quite an interesting coincidence.'

‘But we don't know if he's got anything to do with her, do we? He could have been going in there to meet anyone.'

‘True. I just thought you'd be interested, my sleuth. You were all fired up to know everything a minute ago.'

‘I'm over it now. As long as it isn't Ed she's meeting, then great. Anyway, don't we have some other plans for the day?'

John paid up and we headed towards my flat as fast as we could. If Ed was safe from the uptight one then I was safe to enjoy the rest of the weekend without worrying about it.

SAM

The plods turned up quickly. A man and a woman. They were very professional and quick, taking descriptions of the kids and then relaying a whole lot of coded gobbledygook into their radio to other officers who were on their way. Ed tried to call Kate but her phone was off.

‘When's she due back home?' the female bobby asked me.

‘Five o'clock.' It was three thirty. The light was getting low.

Had we seen anyone suspicious?

No.

When they'd finished asking questions we asked the police if we could keep looking ourselves. We had to do something!

‘Someone can't have taken them, Ed, surely.' I desperately wanted reassurance as we walked out of the park.

‘They'd be mad to, they're a nightmare,' he said through clenched teeth. ‘Anyway, I can't bear to think about it so let's imagine they've wandered off and got lost.' He bit the side of his thumb and then turned to me.

‘We've got to think like them, Sam. Imagine what they've been doing.'

For a moment, I could almost have been watching an episode of
The Bill
but it was just a moment, and in the chilly air and gathering darkness I felt the same cold fear I'd felt in the hospital with Mara, to the power of ten. Around me was the quiet, unassuming street and in my head was Kate's face when we told her we couldn't find Luke and Rosie.

Ed stopped at the railing of the park. ‘Rosie follows Luke everywhere so she wouldn't go off on her own. So it would have been Luke who wandered off, with Rosie following.'

I felt like screaming and clawing at the ground in despair and here was Ed thinking rationally through the problem at hand, trying to navigate a sensible path. I held onto Ed's arm, as if by touch I could have some of his strength.

‘Where would Luke want to go?' he asked me.

I pictured Luke's compact little body that morning, in his funky adult-style jeans and red anorak, his hair a blond thatch, roaring around being a fire engine.

‘Ice cream!' Ed exclaimed.

‘Huh?'

‘All day he was on at us about getting an ice cream, the little freak. It's so cold.'

I remembered Kate crouching down next to Luke and putting some coins into his pocket. She was good friends with her kids even though they were little. I loved the way she could hang out with them and loved other people hanging out with them too. My eyes clouded over for the thousandth time in ten minutes.

‘Sam? Are you listening to me?' Ed shook me roughly by the shoulder. I looked up, my eyes full of tears.

‘Kate – oh my God – she's—' I choked.

‘Sam, listen carefully, this is important. Have. You. Taken. Luke. For. Ice. Cream. Round. Here. Before?' He looked steadily into my eyes, willing me to rewind carefully through my memory.

I looked around me, from desolate to feverish in an instant. I was going mad. Where were they? Where were they?

‘Sam! Pull yourself together!' Ed shouted.

I flinched but it worked. I began to think a little clearer. I looked at the park. Luke. Ice cream. Of course! I had taken him, lots of times.

‘There's a shop just around the corner, this way.'

We set off running to the shop, down the road, then left down a quiet street. There was the corner shop, warm light spilling onto the footpath. My spirits rose as we drew close; they must be here, they must be.

Inside it was warm and smelt of curry. But the barrel-tummied man behind the counter hadn't seen the kids.

Was he sure?

Yes, quite sure.

That boy Luke, such a little character, a pretty mum, very polite, and the little sister like a dumpling. No, not here.

We left the shop, our fear ratcheted up another notch, our heartbeats going just that much faster. Ed stood outside, looking down the street.

‘Let's go back to where they came from and think again.'

*

It was
three forty-five.

Luke could hear the wind outside, blowing
little sticks and leaves against the door. He had banged
and yelled at the door for what felt like a
long time. Now Rosie sat on the bottom step, quietly
snivelling. The cat had come down to investigate and sat
a couple of steps up from them, its body a
round shape in the murky darkness, its eyes glinting at
them from time to time. Luke liked the cat being
close. It was almost completely dark at the bottom of
the stairs and so, so quiet inside. Further up the
stairwell a faint light came in the window but the
window faced the park, not the street, so the only
light coming in was the London light.

From time to
time Luke banged on the door and yelled again. It
was very loud in the stairwell but his hands on
the door sounded muffled, and Luke had a feeling that
when he banged you couldn't really hear it on
the other side.

Their tummies gurgled. It was cold. Luke'
s feet were damp inside his boots. Rosie didn't
smell good; she'd done a poo in her nappy.
He sat right next to her with his arm around
her and sang all her favourite nursery rhymes, all in
a row, even the most babyish ones. Then he ran
out of things to sing. He tried singing ‘Hush little
baby don't say a word' but his voice went
squeaky and sad, and tears got in the way. That
was Mummy's song. He pushed his tears back; he
knew he had to be brave for Rosie.

*

Ed and I went back to the park. Police officers were working their way down the street, knocking on doors, asking people for information. Ed stood by the gate to the park again, and then took his phone out and started punching buttons.

‘Who are you calling?'

‘Mara.'

My stomach clenched tighter. ‘You can't do that! She'll completely freak out.' But it was too late.

‘Mars? It's me. I can't talk for long, we're at the park with the kids and they've wandered off . . . we were watching them . . . look, Mars, we'll talk about this later but can you think of anywhere they might have gone?' Ed held the phone out from his ear as Mara gave her response. ‘Mars, Mars, calm down. Of course we'll find them . . . Look, I'll see you later.'

He stuffed his phone into his pocket. ‘That wasn't a good idea.'

‘I did try to tell you.'

Ed turned around yet again, scouring the park, the street, the view of the playground they had from the gate, searching, searching.

I was thinking about Luke. About his stomach.

‘This has to have something to do with food.' I frowned at the street. ‘Maybe they didn't get to the shop but perhaps we should follow their footsteps again in that direction. I just can't see how Luke would leave the playground for anything other than food.'

‘OK.' Ed was earnest, desperate for some kind of plan.

I turned towards the shop. ‘They had to have gone down this way. It's the only way Luke knows, I'm pretty sure of that.'

We set off, passing the police officer who'd originally answered their call talking to a woman on her front step. The street was a mixture of terraces, interspersed with a few more modern buildings used as offices. From the park, heading towards the shop, there was a terrace of about ten houses.

‘They've got little legs so they probably felt like they'd gone quite far by now.' We were walking slowly, at Luke's and Rosie's pace. The terrace stopped; we'd come to a wide driveway that went down to a car-park building. A few yards further down the road was the left turn to the shop. We looked down the driveway to the car-park building and turned to each other.

‘What if—' And we sprinted down the driveway towards the building. It was very dark and the building felt big, dark and industrial. Away from the street, it was quiet. We couldn't hear the radios of the police officers, just the wind, eddying around concrete. The car access to the building was firmly shut with large metal grills.

‘Rosie? Luke?' we called out, peering around the building, looking for little hidey-holes. The driveway ended in a concrete turning bay and a high solid wall. No way for little legs to get over that . . . and then on the wind we heard a muffled banging.

‘Luke! Rosie!' We ran towards the sound. At the end of the building was a door. We reached for the handle but it was locked! Pressing our ears to the door, we could hear muffled banging and yelling – it was Luke!

‘Luke, Rosie, we'll get you out of there!' Ed rattled the door while I ran up the street yelling all the way. ‘We've found them, they're in here!'

Officers ran over from the other side of the street and three reached the door before me.

‘I can't get them out. The door. It's locked.' Ed was straining at the door, his eyes wild. My heart beat faster as I could hear the little voices hollering behind the door.

From the street came the sound of a car driving fast. It turned down the driveway, its headlights lighting up the scene at the door – a frantic uncle, three composed officers and me. A wiry officer got out with a crowbar and with a couple of deft movements the door was open.

There was Luke, holding Rosie's hand, both with tears marking their cheeks. Ed dropped to the ground, tears running down his own face as he held them both tight, and then I joined them, wrapping my arms around all three of them. From the corner of my eye I was vaguely aware of an orange cat scampering away into the evening.

‘It's all OK,' Ed finally managed to say as he sat back on his heels, hastily trying to wipe his tears away with shaking hands.

And Luke remembered the most important thing.

‘Can we have our ice cream now?'