The Runaway

by Linda Huber

  Rob went to kiss her. ‘I’m so sorry, Nic. This is a nightmare.’ As if she didn’t know.

  Nicola’s face crumpled. ‘It’s the pits. All I can do is look for her and it’s heart-breaking. You wouldn’t believe the stories I’ve heard.’

  ‘What are the police doing?’

  ‘She’s on their list or database or whatever, but then so are hundreds if not thousands more. It makes me so mad.’

  Dorothy sighed. ‘Can we do anything?’

  Nicola bent to her handbag. ‘You can, actually. I’ll give you a spare key, so I can come here if I’m locked out again and Ed isn’t around.’ She put a Yale key on the garden table.

  Rob froze. Nicola didn’t know Mum would be moving in a few weeks. ‘I hope you find her soon.’ It was pitifully inadequate, but he couldn’t think what more to say.

  Nicola drained her mug. ‘The sooner I get back, the sooner I’ll be doing something constructive. Thanks for the coffee.’

  ‘You can’t drive all the way back again today!’ Dorothy put a hand out, but Nicola’s expression was determined.

  ‘Don’t worry. Compared to walking the streets and talking to poor homeless sods all day, driving from London to St Ives and back is a doddle.’ She fingered her car key. ‘It’s earth-shattering to think how easily people can fall off their lives and end up begging.’

  She gave them a brief smile, and started back for her car. Rob slumped in his garden chair.

  ‘She’s in bits,’ said Dorothy, when the younger woman had driven off. ‘She doesn’t know how she’ll manage financially if they don’t find Kelly soon. And she didn’t say it in so many words, but I think her marriage is in trouble, too. Oh Rob – why do such ghastly things happen to nice people?’

  There was no answer to that.

  Chapter Three

  Thursday, 30th July

  Nicola stepped down from the bus and stared around, getting her bearings. She was right out on the east side of the city here, further from the centre than her usual search area, but someone in a Salvation Army shelter had mentioned a group of young people who’d set up a camp under a motorway bridge near here. It was worth a try. She trudged past warehouses, filling stations and factories, some behind high walls. These, combined with the odd square of open ground covered in scrubby grass and debris, made it one of the most desolate areas she’d been to. Not many people were out and about; in fact she was the only person on the street. Even the sky was threatening today, dark clouds chasing each other eastwards.

  The motorway bridge was easily seen from afar. It was one of those low, wide bridges, and tarpaulins hanging over the lowest part created a tunnel-like structure with a yawning mouth that darkened into the distance, a bit like the cave they’d gone into near Newquay once, years ago. Ten-year-old Kelly had loved every minute. Oh, Kelly. Nicola cuddled her rucksack to her chest as she approached the bridge.

  A group of people were sitting around on the waste ground near the entrance. It was difficult to tell if they were men or women, never mind how old they were; even in today’s muggy weather they had hats or caps pulled down well over their brows. Apprehension growing by the minute, Nicola trailed over the litter-strewn concrete, a dozen flyers shaking in one hand.

  ‘I’m looking for my daughter,’ she said, holding out a flyer. ‘Have any of you seen her around here? She’s only sixteen.’

  Silence, then one man spoke, jerking his head at the makeshift tent. ‘Plenty here younger, love. And plenty who like them young, too.’ They all sniggered, and Nicola’s face flamed.

  The man made round ‘o’s with his eyes and mouth. ‘Ooh! She doesn’t like the thought of little–’ He peered at the flyer without taking it. ‘–Kelly in a place like this, does she?’ The last few words were in a high-pitched, pseudo-posh accent, and the others roared hysterically.

  Nicola dredged up her courage. ‘I don’t. I want her safe at home.’

  The man spat on the ground and cracked open a can of something. ‘Well, love, feel free to go in and look for her. You might not get out in one piece, but that’s your problem.’ He snapped his fingers, and a dog lying beside him growled at Nicola, then crept forwards and barked.

  Nicola’s legs were shaking so hard she could barely move away. She stumbled towards the entrance to the ‘tunnel’, fury mingling with fear and frustration in her gut. Her stomach shifted; heck, no, she was going to be sick. Bile rose, and she swallowed it down, then clutched her front, her breath rasping as pain tightened around her chest. The bridge swayed and her knees cracked to the ground. Black spots swam in front of her eyes as the filthy concrete blurred then came into sharp focus. The pain stabbed again and the ground wavered. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe… Christ no, she was having a heart attack; she was done for. Who would call an ambulance here?

  ‘Hello, there. Can I help you?’ A deep Welsh accent spoke behind her, and Nicola forced her eyes open. A middle-aged man was bending over her, and he was wearing – oh, the relief – he was wearing a black shirt with a dog collar. A priest.

  ‘Chest pain?’ He helped her sit on the dusty ground, and Nicola opened her mouth, but no words came. Dull heaviness in her chest was pushing her down, and her breath was coming in rapid pants. Cool fingers touched her wrist.

  He pulled out a mobile, and Nicola closed her eyes again. Fear was sour in her mouth – they said a heart attack made you feel terrified, didn’t they? Please don’t let me die here, please.

  ‘An ambulance is on its way. Try a sip of water.’ The priest was holding a water bottle to her lips.

  Nicola took a sip, but it was all too much. She toppled onto one side.

  A siren sounded in the distance, then swooped up close, and Nicola lay still as hands touched her and a female voice told her to hang on. As if she wasn’t trying to do that. She felt herself being rolled onto a stretcher and lifted, then she was in the ambulance with an oxygen mask on her face. Someone was touching her chest, and people were speaking, but they were so far away; the world was retreating. Kelly… Nicola fought her way back, forcing her eyes open, blinking at the bright light.

  ‘Hello! I’m going to look in your rucksack for some ID,’ said the woman. ‘Ah – Nicola, is it? Hang on for a minute. We’re helping you now.’

  Rapid beeps filled the air and the paramedic peered at paper spewing from her machine, then put a hand on Nicola’s shoulder.

  ‘I think you’re having a panic attack. Ride it out, love. It’ll pass in a few minutes.’

  Nicola pressed her hands to her chest. That couldn’t be right; her chest was agony. ‘Pain,’ she managed.

  ‘It’s not your heart, love. The ECG’s fine. Nice steady breathing, now.’

  Not her heart… For a few moments Nicola concentrated on her breathing and gradually, the pain subsided and she could look round the ambulance. One paramedic was standing beside her and the other was outside the half-open door talking to the priest.

  ‘Better? Want to tell me what happened?’ The woman passed her a plastic cup.

  Nicola sipped, slopping water over her chin. ‘I was looking for my daughter. And these men–’

  The priest stepped into the ambulance. ‘Don’t think about them. There’s a wild bunch in there this week.’

  Nicola lay for several minutes as the tension ebbed away, then reached for her rucksack. A panic attack. Dear God. She had plenty to panic about, but it was still scary how out of control she’d been. She handed a flyer to the priest.

  ‘Ah!’ His face creased in a smile, and hope flared in Nicola’s chest. Was this it? The moment she’d agonised over? ‘Yes, I know where she is’. But it wasn’t. He reached into an inside pocket and produced a handful of papers, rifled through them and held out – a creased and battered flyer with Kelly’s photo on the front. Hope died again.

  ‘She’s on my watch already, you see. You’re doing a good job, Kelly’s mum. But stick to the shelters and the centre. You can give me more of these; I’ll hand them around for
you.’

  ‘We’ll take some, too – we’ll pin them up in the hospitals,’ said the paramedic.

  The offers of help when she so badly needed it had tears trickling down Nicola’s cheeks. She blinked at the priest.

  ‘I’ll never find her if there are places I can’t search.’

  But she couldn’t search everywhere anyway, could she? She’d barely touched the north of London, and she’d only been out a few times at night, asking the street girls. Nicola wiped her brow with her free hand. Ed was right; the search was impossible.

  The priest tucked his flyers away. ‘Finding her would be sheer coincidence,’ he said bluntly. ‘But keep going, because coincidences happen, don’t they? God bless.’

  He touched his brow, jumped down from the ambulance and strode back to the people under the flyover.

  ‘We’ll head off now,’ said the paramedic, strapping Nicola in. ‘A quick check in A&E, and you’ll be free to go.’

  More wasted time; but she could discharge herself when she got there. Nicola leaned back as the flyover retreated and London city centre grew closer. She hadn’t even asked the priest’s name, but at least her search was working.

  Chapter Four

  Friday, 31st July

  Mia wandered downstairs for breakfast. Dad had already taken Scout out for a pee in the garden, and the excited barking she could hear meant Dad must be playing with him. How had they ever managed without Scout? He was the best fun ever.

  ‘Mia, there’s a bacon butty with your name on it here!’

  Mia skipped into the kitchen, where Nan was putting bacon into a roll for her. Yum. Her dad came in and made coffee to take upstairs to Phoebe. Holidays were lovely.

  She finished her roll and drank the chocolate milk Nan always had for her, then ran outside to see what Scout was doing. His rope and ball were lying on the grass, but there was no sign of a golden-yellow puppy.

  ‘Scout?’ Mia ran up and down on the grass, looking under the hedges. ‘Scout!’

  No Scout. Mia ran down the side of the house to the front garden. Had he managed to go next door again? Dad had said the side hedge and fence were one hundred per cent dog-proof now, but there had been another storm in the night and that might have un-dog-proofed it again. At that moment, Kelly’s dad banged his front door shut and stood beside his car finishing his cigarette, and Mia froze. She couldn’t run into his garden while he was standing there watching. She crouched down, pretending to fiddle with her trainers, and at last he got into the car and drove backwards into the road. As soon as he was out of sight, Mia ran. There was no Scout on the driveway next door, and no Scout round the back, even though there were tons more apples on the grass today.

  She wheeled round and ran home. ‘Dad!’

  She blurted out her story, and after a quick check in all the gardens on their road, Dad was driving off in one direction and Nan in the other, and Phoebe and Mia were running down to the cliff path. They stood at the signpost, panting. From here, you could see a long way along in both directions, but there was no yellow blob in the distance either way, and none in the car park.

  ‘Suppose he’s fallen over the cliff!’ Mia was crying now.

  Phoebe cuddled her. ‘He wouldn’t be so silly. I think we should go home, in case he’s come back in the meantime.’

  Mia didn’t want to, but Phoebe wouldn’t let her search alone out here. ‘Look in the garden again, Mia. He might have come back and fallen asleep in the sun while we were all out. I’ll make sure he’s not inside.’

  It was a stupid idea – if Scout’d been here, he’d have woken up and come running; he always did when she arrived. Still, Mia hunted around under the shrubs because there was nothing else she could do. No Scout. She peered over to Kelly’s garden again, but he really wasn’t there. But – oh no! – suppose he’d sneaked into the house before Kelly’s dad went to work, and got locked in? Mia stood still, thinking hard. Nan had a key now, for emergencies. Mia had watched her write ‘Seaton’ on a label and tie it to the key. This was an emergency, wasn’t it? She ran into the living room and opened the second top drawer in the unit, where Nan had a little box with different keys in it. And there was Kelly’s. Mia took it from the box and flew outside again.

  Kelly’s dad wasn’t very good at keeping the kitchen nice. Lots of dirty mugs were sitting in the sink and the floor was muddy. When Mia called for Scout her voice was like a tiny echo in a cave. She looked in the downstairs loo and in the washing machine room, then crept upstairs, her heart thudding. She wasn’t supposed to be here.

  ‘Scout?’ No answering woof, no clacking paws sliding on the wooden floor. Mia peeked into all the bedrooms. The little one was full of boxes, the big one had a very untidy bed and smelled yucky, and the third was Kelly’s room. She had lovely posters on the walls and lots of make-up on the chest of drawers, and a photo of her and two other big girls licking ice creams with sprinkles in front of the London Eye. Mia had been on that too, with Dad and Phoebe. And Scout wasn’t here.

  Mia ran down again and stood in front of the door to the cellar. The key was in the lock and it wasn’t stiff at all, not like Nan’s. She pressed the light switch but it didn’t work and – silly! Scout wouldn’t be down here; he couldn’t unlock doors.

  Two minutes later, she was back in Nan’s driveway, just ahead of Nan’s car crunching in.

  ‘No sign of him,’ said Nan, putting an arm round Mia as they went inside.

  ‘Where were you, Mia?’ Phoebe had her scared face on.

  A big hot lump in Mia’s throat made it hard to speak. ‘I went next door again to check.’

  A loud toot sounded on the driveway and she ran outside, and Scout jumped out of Dad’s car straight into her arms. Mia knelt on the spiky gravel and gave him the biggest cuddle ever.

  ‘He was halfway to St Ives,’ said her dad. ‘And that settles it. He’s not allowed in the garden alone, okay, guys? I’m not buying a new perimeter fence for a place we’re going to be selling in a month or so. And first thing we’ll do after the holidays is enrol him in obedience classes.’

  Mia laughed. The day was shining again.

  Rob stretched on his beach towel, warm Cornish sun on his chest and the sound of the sea in the background. Porthmeor beach, with its glorious sands and blue-green ocean, was equal to any tropical paradise today. He would miss coming to St Ives every summer, but it would be worth it to have his mother closer to home.

  Children’s shrieks filled the air, and Rob exchanged grins with Phoebe. Mia was in heaven, playing with a couple of kids she’d met, splashing in and out of the water, hair flying and face alight with laughter. Hopefully, one day, Mia would have a little brother or sister to play with… Rob dropped a kiss on Phoebe’s head and scrabbled for his phone to see the time.

  ‘Mia! Five more minutes, then we have to go and meet Nan at the café!’ His mother had promised Mia the biggest ice cream sundae she could eat, to make up for the panic about Scout that morning.

  Mia didn’t need to be told twice. ‘I want the sticky toffee one with hot chocolate sauce and vanilla and chocolate ice cream and chocolate buttons,’ she said, pulling shorts over a still-damp swimsuit.

  Mia chatted on, and Rob waited indulgently as she packed up her beach toys and allowed Phoebe to brush the sand from her hair.

  The café was a couple of streets back from the beach, and his mother was already sitting at a round table near the window when they arrived.

  ‘Didn’t you bring Scout?’ Mia ran to sit beside Dorothy.

  ‘I did not. He’s fast asleep in his cage at home, bad pup. He must be exhausted after his long walk.’

  Rob took the chair on his mother’s other side, to let Phoebe and Mia sit together. When the order was in, Rob sat back and gazed around the other café-goers. Most of them were kids, teenagers enjoying ice creams in the summer holidays. He’d done the same at that age.

  Mia was looking around too, a little crease between her eyes. ‘Does Kelly come here some
times?’

  Rob was caught on the wrong foot. Where on earth had that come from? ‘Oh – I guess she did.’

  To his dismay, Mia cottoned on to the past tense. ‘Isn’t she ever coming back, then?’

  The little face was full of dismay, and Rob put a hand on Mia’s head. ‘I don’t know, Mia.’

  The silence round the table was awkward now. Mia’s stare was flipping from one adult to the next, and Rob made a snap decision. The kid wasn’t stupid; she could see something was up.

  ‘Kelly’s run away to London. Big girls do that sometimes, but it’s a very bad idea. Nicola’s looking for her.’

  Mia was silent, and he could almost see the thoughts revolving round her head. ‘Why did she do that? I want her to come home.’

  Two tears ran down her cheeks, and Rob leaned forwards. ‘I’m sure she will someday, sweetheart. Nicola’s bound to find her soon and bring her home.’ Was it wrong to say that? All he wanted was to give her a happy summer.

  Mia nodded, deep in thought. ‘I won’t ever run away,’ she said eventually.

  Rob smiled across the table. ‘Good. We won’t leave you, either. Or not until you’re grown up and want to look after yourself.’

  ‘Can Kelly look after herself?’

  ‘She thought she could,’ said Phoebe. ‘Your Dad’s right, Mia. It’s a bad idea to leave home before you leave school.’

  Mia fiddled with the sugar shaker. ‘Because you need school to find a job to have money to buy things.’

  ‘Yup. I stayed at home until I went to uni.’ Phoebe raised her eyebrows significantly, and Rob rushed to agree.