Girl, Missing (26 page)

‘You're not nine until November,' I said.

But I knew I was going to let her go. After all, Annie was ridiculously overprotective which wasn't good for Madison. And I could actually see the ice cream stall from our spot on the
beach. Nothing could happen to her. Nothing
would
. It was a sunny morning and most of the people about were families with small children, laughing and splashing in the sea or building
sandcastles. Plus, Mo had her own phone, tucked safely at the bottom of her bag.

‘Here.' I handed her one of Annie's twenty-pound notes. ‘Get me whatever you're having and make sure he gives you the right change, OK?'

‘Sure. I'll get Twisters.' Madison beamed at me. She slid her doll, Tammy, into her pocket and trotted off across the sand. I stood up, watching her as she reached the
promenade and crossed to the stall. I could see the man behind it leaning forward, clearly trying to hear her order, and Madison shaking her head impatiently, hands on hips.

As I watched, the man handed her the ice lollies and Madison reached up to give him the money.

‘Hey there.' A boy's voice beside me made me jump. ‘Have you seen Cassie?'

I looked around. The guy was in his late teens, wearing long shorts and a faded T-shirt with
Boondog Shack
written on the front. He was totally gorgeous: tanned, blond and square-jawed
like a model, and, for a second, I was so shocked, both by his appearance and by the fact that he was standing so close to me, that my mouth actually fell open. I took a step backwards, almost
stumbling on the sand. The boy caught my arm and smiled as he steadied me.

‘Have you seen Cassie?' he repeated.

‘I don't know anyone called Cassie,' I said.

‘Oh, OK.' He smiled again. ‘Sorry to bother you.' He sauntered off.

I blinked, then remembered Madison and turned back to the ice cream stall. I couldn't see her. She should have been on her way back across the beach towards me by now. Maybe she'd
got confused and wandered off in the wrong direction. I scanned the horizon. The beach was fairly crowded, but there was still plenty of space between the groupings on the sand and I had a clear
view for at least two hundred metres in both directions.

‘Mo!' I called.

Several nearby families looked around. Ignoring them, I yelled again. ‘MO!'
Where was she?
It wasn't like her to muck about.

My shout echoed away into silence. My guts squeezed into a knot.
Don't panic
, I said to myself.
It's only been a few seconds. She's got to be here somewhere.

Still scanning the beach, I grabbed my phone and called her number. But Madison's mobile was switched off. I groaned out loud. Why hadn't I checked it was on when she'd walked
away? I picked up my straw bag and headed towards the stall. I kept glancing over my shoulder, but there was nothing behind me except our towels on the ground. If Madison came back she'd see
them and wait for me. My eyes strained across the sand and along the promenade, skipping over each figure, looking for those chestnut braids. She couldn't have just vanished.

I reached the ice cream stall. The vendor was chatting to two elderly ladies as he held a cone under his ice cream machine.

‘Excuse me,' I interrupted. ‘The little girl you served just now, did you see where she went?'

The man frowned. I could feel the elderly ladies looking at me.

‘Little girl?' the man said slowly.

‘Yes,' I said. ‘She's eight and a half with brown eyes and long brown hair in plaits. She . . . she ordered two Twisters and gave you a twenty-pound note like about two
minutes ago. Less.'

The man nodded. ‘I remember.'

I glanced round again. A soft breeze was playing across the beach. The sky was a clear blue. Children's laughter filled the air. Madison must be here somewhere, maybe just around the
corner.

‘So did you see where she went?' I turned back to the man.

He shrugged.

One of the two elderly women he was serving cleared her throat. ‘Perhaps she's in the ladies,' she said, pointing round the side of the stall.

Nodding, I rushed past them. The ladies' loo was clearly marked just along the promenade wall. I darted inside, but all the cubicles were empty, their doors hanging open. A woman was
putting on lipstick at the mirror.

‘Did a little girl just come in here?' I asked.

The woman shook her head. I rushed outside and glanced back across the beach. Our towels were still lying where I'd left them. No sign of Madison.

Fighting back my rising panic, I stopped and took a deep breath.
Think. Where could she have gone?
I turned right around, looking in every direction, trying to spot the familiar
silhouette of my little sister. But there was no sign of her.

Heart pounding, I grabbed the arm of a mother walking by, her baby in a sling.

‘My sister's missing,' I said. ‘She's eight and a half.'

‘Oh.' The woman's eyes widened. She raised her hand protectively over her baby's head, as if to shield her from the news. ‘I'm . . . er . . . that's
terrible. What happened?'

‘She went to buy an ice cream and she hasn't come back.' As I spoke, my eyes scanned the beach again, desperately hoping I'd catch a glimpse of Madison in her denim
shorts and blue T-shirt.

‘When?' the woman asked.

‘Not long. A few minutes ago,' I said.

The woman's face relaxed. ‘She's probably just gone in the wrong direction. Got lost, not paying attention to where she was—'

‘No.' I shook my head. ‘Madison isn't like that.'

The woman with the baby took a step away from me. Her expression registered sympathy but distance. She didn't want to get involved. ‘I'm sure your sister will turn up,'
she said. ‘Have you tried the ladies?'

‘Yes.' The word snapped out of me. I spun around, searching the beach again. ‘D'you know if there's a lifeguard here?'

The woman shook her head. ‘Not on this stretch, sorry.' She walked off. I looked along the path after her and my breath caught in my throat.

Two Twisters, still in their wrappers, were lying on the tarmac, melting. Were those the ice lollies Madison had just bought?

I took a step towards them. I gasped. Just beyond the Twisters lay Madison's pocket doll, Tammy. She was face down on the ground, her shoes missing and one of her plaits untwisting in the
sunshine.

And that's when I knew.

Madison hadn't wandered off, or gone in the wrong direction by mistake. Something really, really bad had happened.

I picked up the doll and shoved it in my straw bag. The world spun inside my head. I had to act. I had to do something . . .

I strode off across the sand. It was warm and soft, hard to walk in. Earlier I'd enjoyed the way the grains trickled up between my toes, but now it was awful not being able to move
faster.

‘Mo!' I yelled as I hurried along. ‘Madison!'

Maybe she just dropped the doll. Maybe she got lost.
I muttered under my breath, trying – and failing – to reassure myself.
Please, Mo.

Surely she would appear any second – plaits streaming out behind her as she raced towards me.

But she didn't.

I headed for our two towels, still lined up on the sand, just a few metres from the sea. The whole area was busier than it had been even just a few minutes ago and I knew I was never going to
spot Madison in the crowds. Hoping against hope, I called her again, but her mobile was still switched off. I held my own phone in my hand – in case she called me – as I stopped to work
through my options.

I knew I had to tell Annie. I didn't want to, but short of contacting the police I couldn't see what else to do. I glanced around, forcing myself to focus on every detail.

Please be here, Mo. Please.

Up on the promenade a group of teenagers were chatting outside the Boondog Shack. The boy who'd spoken to me earlier was with them. He'd obviously found the girl
he'd
been looking for.

Families were still swarming onto the beach. Shrieks and yells filled the air. There were plenty of little kids . . . toddlers in sunhats waving toy plastic spades, a pair of skinny redheads in
matching Bermuda shorts . . . an overweight girl about Madison's age wearing a bright pink dress.

I stood, trying to see everything all at once. It was no good. Panic rose inside me, whipping up through my body like a tornado.

And then my phone beeped. A text from Madison's phone. Relief surged through me. With trembling hands, I opened the text.

Stop looking on the beach. Your sister isn't there. Do NOT contact the police or I will kill her. Go home and wait.