They all go into the living room and stand near the door, so politely, as if they’re strangers. Then Gran and Stephanie sit down and Mary-Anne and her mother sit together on the couch, their bottoms perched on the edge. The furniture seems unfamiliar and the air in the living room stuffed with something cloying, something so stifling it makes you feel as if you can’t breathe properly or talk. And, anyway, the only subject to talk about is Gemma except you can’t any more because you’ve talked and talked and talked, going over and over where she was, when you last saw her, where she could have gone, where she could be.
Mary-Anne starts crying. She cries in great, jolting, watery sobs and then her mother starts as well I’m sorry, I’m just so, so sorry. You could hit Mary-Anne. You could thump her so hard and yell at her stop it, stop bloody crying, it’s not your sister. Gran doesn’t cry. She smoothes her hands over her skirt with the red-and-cream roses pattern and she says she still has hope and her voice is stern and unbending like she’ll never give up. Then she says, ‘Excuse me,’ and goes out of the room.
Stephanie doesn’t cry either. She’s made up her mind about that. Because if she cries Gemma won’t come back. She doesn’t know why but it is that way and so she will never cry about Gemma. Never. She knows that other people, possibly even Minna and Dave, think Gemma’s lost for ever. But Stephanie knows that somewhere, somewhere, she’s waiting. Waiting with that special funny grin she has when she’s playing hiding and she thinks she’s found a top-secret place no one else could find. If Stephanie can just work out where that is everything will be all right again, she can talk about new shorts and boys, she can eat muffins and moan about having to wear school uniform. And, just like always, Minna will be cross and moody and sometimes fun again and Dave will go back to work.
People come to the door. If Gran’s too busy to answer Stephanie has to, but she must look through the peephole before she opens it and if she doesn’t know who it is she has to ask for their names to make sure it’s not reporters. If she’s uncertain about letting someone in she has to ask first.
Like the two men and the woman who came to the door on Tuesday morning. She got Gran. It was the police again. Matt and Chris come around a lot and Dave and Minna talk to them in the living room and you can hear their voices low and solemn behind the closed door. Gran said Minna and David weren’t there but they said they wanted to talk to the children and would Gran sit in because they had to have an adult family member with them.
Gran said she didn’t think she could do that without asking Minna and David if that was all right but the men said it was just a few details they had to check out and it could help.
It’s Matt who asks most of the questions. He’s the nice one, the one who smiles. The other one, Chris, doesn’t say much, he just watches you and the lady never says anything at all.
‘You’re Jonny, aren’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘You know me, don’t you, Jonny? I’m Matt and this is Chris and that’s Anne. Okay if we ask you a few questions?’
‘All right.’
‘You went to the school picnic on Saturday with your Mum and Stephanie and Gemma and Liam, didn’t you?
‘Yes. But Gemma didn’t come home with us.’
Matt nods. ‘I know. That’s why we want to ask you some questions. You might be able to help us. Will you help us, Jonny?’
‘I’ll help.’
‘Did you play with Gemma at the school picnic?’
He screws up his face, thinking. ‘Gemma’s too little.’
‘What did you do at the picnic? Did you have fun?
‘I got third in the races.’ Beams at Matt.
‘Good man. You must be great at running.’ Matt grins back at him.
‘I didn’t get first, though.’
‘What else did you do?’
‘I went swimming.’
‘Hey, you’re a real sportsman aren’t you, Jonny?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you see the plane?’
‘The amphibian plane? I watched it.’
‘Pretty cool, eh?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was Gemma beside you when you were watching the amphibian?’
Jonny feels a little uneasy. ‘Mum said we had to look after Gemma.’
Matt nods. ‘That’s good. You must be a great help to your Mum and Dad. What did you do after you watched the plane, Jonny?’
‘We went back to see the cricket.’
‘Did you take Gemma too?’
‘She didn’t want to.’
‘She didn’t want to? Why didn’t she want to come with you?’
‘She wanted to stay. Gemma likes planes.’
‘Did she come with you to watch the cricket?’
‘And Liam.’
‘Right. Liam too. Was Gemma with you?’
‘What?’
‘Could you see Gemma while you were walking to the cricket?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Did she follow you there?’
‘We were running.’
‘Running, then. Could Gemma keep up?’
He shakes his head. ‘Gemma’s little.’
‘She couldn’t keep up? Could you see her, though, Jonny?’
‘No.’
‘How did you know she was following you, then?’
‘If I put my head back? Like this?’
Chris is smiling at him now, asking the questions. But he doesn’t like his voice so much, it makes him feel like he’ll say something wrong.
‘Was Gemma there while you watched the cricket?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Did anyone talk to Gemma?’
‘Sophie. She was there.’
‘Uh huh. Anyone else?’
‘Yes.’
‘A kid or a grown-up?’
‘A, a grown-up.’
‘Was it a lady or a man who talked to Gemma?’ Chris asks it quickly, staring hard at Jonny.
‘Gemma fell over and the lady came over and said are you all right dear?’ Jonny looks up at Matt. He wants to answer the questions but he can’t remember everything, not properly, and he wants to talk to Matt, not the one with the squinty eyes.
‘You’re doing so well, Jonny. That’s really good,’ Matt says. ‘Do you know the lady?’
‘I know her.’
‘Who is she?’
‘She’s Sophie’s mother.’
‘Okay. That’s good. Did Gemma stay with you all the time you watched cricket?’
‘I forget.’
‘But you’ve remembered lots of things, Jonny. Here’s another one. I wonder if you’ll remember this one. Can you remember who else was there while you were watching cricket? ’
‘Ricky and Aaron and Tama and Joey. And Finn.’
‘Anyone else?’ Chris says it and Jonny puts his head down.
‘I don’t know. Can I finish now?’
‘Nearly finished,’ Matt says. ‘Were there any other adults, not counting Sophie’s mother? Were there any other mums or dads there, Jonny?’
‘There were them men.’
‘Men you didn’t know?’ Chris again. His voice makes him tired. Tired and scared.
‘No. But Tama said.’
‘What did Tama say?’
‘Said that’s my Dad.’
‘But you didn’t know who the other men were?’
‘No. Just Tama did. Can I finish?’
‘Very soon. The men were with Tama’s dad?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Was Stephanie there as well?
‘I’m stopping.’ He looks appealingly up at Matt.
‘One last question.’ Matt’s talking again. ‘Just one. I want you to try to remember, Jonny, to try very hard. Was Gemma there when you were finished watching the cricket?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Really? You really don’t know?’ Chris is staring at him.
‘Liam wanted to.’
‘What did Liam want to do?’ Matt’s voice is soft and kind
. ‘Come on, mate, you’ve been a great help, you can tell me.’
‘Liam wanted to race. We had to practise.’
‘Did Gemma race too?’
‘I don’t know.’ He shakes his head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Can I go now?’ Liam is scowling, head down.
‘Just a few more questions,’ Matt says. ‘A few’s not many. Can you do that for us, Liam?’
‘How many is few?’
‘You can’t count it exactly but few doesn’t take up too much time. Is that okay?’
‘Because I want to watch TV now.’
‘Soon, okay? How old are you Liam?’
‘Seven.’
‘That’s quite big, isn’t it?’
‘I’m eight in August.’
‘So. You’re nearly seven and a half? That is big. Three more questions? Okay?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Jonny told us when you were watching cricket that Ricky, Aaron, Finn and Joey were there as well. Was there anyone else?’
‘Tama.’
‘Good boy. Anyone else?’
‘Tama’s dad and men.’
‘They were there watching cricket as well?’
‘Yep.’
‘Good man. Anyone else you can remember?’
‘Ladies. Ladies I don’t know. Big boys. Can I go now? That’s more than three.’
‘Nearly there, you’re doing great. Was your dad there, Liam? Did you see your dad?’
‘No.’
‘What about Stephanie?’
‘No.’
‘Who won when you raced Jonny over to Mum?’ Matt says, grinning at him.
‘Not me.’
‘Was it Gemma? Did Gemma win?’
‘She didn’t race. Jonny said.’
‘What did Jonny say?’ He doesn’t like the way Chris looks at him.
‘I don’t know.’ Head down, swinging his legs, his voice is muffled.
‘You can tell me,’ Matt says. ‘Just whisper, okay?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I think you can remember,’ Chris says. ‘I think you can because you’ve remembered everything else.’
He has to tell. If he doesn’t they might take him to prison and lock him up. ‘He said we had to race over to Mum. He said don’t get Gemma. Don’t tell her. Gemma’s too slow.’
He sees Gran take a handkerchief out of her pocket and wipe something out of her eyes. She blows her nose and then she smiles at him but her mouth is all trembly and funny.
She comes into the living room and closes the door behind her. She looks over at Gran. Her face is flushed; she looks like she wants to cry. Stephanie wants to cry as well. She feels the tears that have been stuck so long behind her eyes wanting to pour out, so she turns her back on Gran and doesn’t look at her. She sits in the chair facing them, the squashy brown leather chair with the buttons missing and the rubbed bits on the seat. If she doesn’t look at Gran, if she doesn’t think about anything but just listens to the questions, then she won’t cry.
‘Hi Stephanie.’ The nice one, Matt, says it. ‘You know us, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘We’d like to ask you some questions,’ the other one, Chris butts in.
‘Okay.’
‘You looked after Gemma during the morning of the picnic?’
‘Yes.’
‘Until when?’
‘Till after lunch.’ She’s been through this, over and over. She can answer the questions without thinking about them.
‘What happened after that?’
‘She was right in front of Mum and me by the lake.’
‘What time do you think that would have been?’
‘Till after three o’clock, nearly four. I’m not sure exactly.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘The plane came and Gemma went over with the other kids and then she went to watch cricket with Jonny and Liam.’
‘But you were looking after her for most of the day?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me about Gemma, Stephanie.’ It’s Matt speaking and she turns her head to look at him. She doesn’t like this question. It’s too hard to think about.
‘What about her?’
‘Anything about her. What does Gemma like to do, for example?’
‘She likes Playgroup. She likes stories and toys, just the kind of stuff all little kids like.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Uh.’ Just say it quickly. ‘Uh. When she goes to bed she has to have all her stuffed toys in with her but she likes Mouse best.’
‘Mouse? That’s her favourite toy, I guess?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What else?’
‘She likes to jump on the trampoline with me holding her hands. She likes things that fly.’
‘Things that fly? What sorts of things?’
‘Aeroplanes, helicopters, butterflies.’
‘Sounds like you know Gemma really well, Stephanie.’ Chris this time and he’s looking straight at her. She puts her head down.
‘Yeah.’
‘Because, according to your mum and dad and other people, you look after Gemma quite a bit, don’t you?’
‘Mum has to go out and—’
‘How often do you look after Gemma, Stephanie?’
It’s like often is written down in big bold letters and underlined. Just answer. Just answer and get it over.
‘I don’t know. It changes.’
‘Just on average, say. Once a week? Twice? Every day?’
‘I’d say, I’d say most days.’
‘Uh huh. How long for?’
‘Um.’
Why is he asking her this? How will asking her these questions bring Gemma back?
‘Ten minutes? An hour? More?’
‘Depends. Sometimes more. I don’t mind, though.’
‘Of course you don’t. You’re a fantastic kid, a fantastic big sister. Everyone says that,’ Matt says, smiling at her. Except she doesn’t trust his smile. Doesn’t trust anything any more.
‘Do they?’
‘Yes they do. Do you have lots of friends, Stephanie?’
‘Quite a few.’
‘And are you into sports, music, that kind of thing?’
‘I play cricket.’
‘Where do you play?’
‘I, I’m a bowler.’
She’d like to be out there now. The hot sweet smell of grass. Measuring the distance. Keeping her eye on the target. Run and jump and throw. She’s good at it. She’s got a good eye. Why has this happened? Why did this happen?
‘You like cricket?’
‘Yes, yes, I—’
‘What else do you like to do?’
‘Well, I learn guitar. I’m not that good, though.’
Matt smiles. ‘You like to go out with your friends as well?
Meet them, do things with them? I suppose, maybe sometimes, looking after Gemma so much might get in the way of some of the things you like to do?’
‘Uh.’ Does he think she’s so seriously dumb she can’t see he’s trying to get her to say stuff she doesn’t want to say? Doesn’t even mean?
He’s still smiling. Smiling at her and nodding. ‘You can be completely honest here, Stephanie. All we’re doing is putting together everything we can find out about Gemma. Just, it seems to me, that looking after your little sister so much mightn’t have seemed all that fair.’
‘How old are you Stephanie?’ Chris is cutting in.
‘Fourteen.’
‘I’ve got a daughter around your age. Can’t say she’s too keen on looking after her younger brother.’
‘Gemma’s always good.’
‘Even if she is, there might be other things you’d rather do. I wonder if, maybe, you sometimes feel a bit upset about having to look after your sister? Maybe even, a little angry? Did you ever feel angry about having to stay home and look after Gemma?’
He’s throwing a pile of questions at her, so fast and so many she can’t
think properly. Just one. Just answer one.
‘I don’t get angry.’ Her voice sounds weird like it’s jammed inside her throat.
‘You never get angry? It seems perfectly reasonable to me that you would.’ He raises his eyebrows, leans back in his chair and his voice is calm, coaxing.
She narrows her eyes, stares back at him. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m not saying anything at all, Stephanie. I’m only trying to see things through your eyes.’
‘You think I did something to make Gemma go away? You think I hurt her?’
‘Stephanie, I know this is tough but we have to ask these questions.’ Matt now. Has he learned this? Has he had to learn how to pretend to be this way in some sick police-school class? Now you have to act like you’re nice. ‘Please answer truthfully. I promise you won’t get into trouble. Now. Did you ever feel perhaps just a little bit resentful that you had to look after Gemma?’
She’s shouting. She hears her voice growing louder and louder, filling up the room and the sound of it is harsh and raw and it frightens her. ‘Stop it. Stop asking stupid questions. Why don’t you get out of here and bloody do something? Find her. Find Gemma and bring her back.’
Gran packs up pyjamas, shorts, T-shirts, jeans and sweaters for Jonny and Liam. They’re going away to the farm, to Uncle Ken and Aunty Fran’s. When Stephanie asks how long for, Gran says she doesn’t really know but it’s best for Mummy and best for the boys for them to be away just now.
The house becomes silent. People come to the door with flowers and food and cards but nobody comes inside and nobody talks. The phone hardly rings, the police don’t come around so much. There’s no news. No news.
Gran stands beside the bench. She’s stood there, motionless for most of the morning. When Stephanie tries to talk she barely answers. Dave comes through the back door. He glances at Gran then turns and looks at her carefully. ‘Jean? Are you all right?’
Gran starts to breathe in a harsh gulping way, as if she’s trying not to cry but she can’t help it. ‘Food,’ she says. ‘David, it’s all this food. I don’t know what to do with it.’
‘Sit down, Jean,’ he says. ‘You’ve been doing too much. Stephanie, make your gran a cup of tea, would you?’
Dave’s face is tight and angry. He opens the door, goes outside and Stephanie hears the squeaking of the wheelie-bin being pushed around the side of the house. He brings it right into the kitchen, picks up the plates, baskets, dishes, and hurls the whole lot into the bin as if he hates the food, hates the people who brought it, hates everything.
Hunting BLind: It's Every Family's Deepest Fear Page 4
