Then it was over, and a hyper Josh was being divested of his helmet.
‘That was awesome!’ he enthused. ‘Can I have another go?’
Callum nodded to the length of the queue behind them. ‘It’d be the best part of an hour before you worked your way to the front again. Sorry, Josh, enough is enough. We’ll head back to the village, and you can have another go on the dodgems if you like.’
Josh pulled a face. ‘They’ll seem tame after the bikes.’
But he fell in beside Callum cheerfully enough, jingling his remaining money in his pocket. The wind was stronger now, and the sun had disappeared, giving way to heavy clouds.
‘Looks as though we might be in for some rain.’ Callum remarked.
Josh barely heard him. ‘I can’t wait to tell Dad about it,’ he exclaimed. ‘It felt great going round the corners – I could almost have touched the grass.’
‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ Callum said feelingly.
When they reached the centre of the village, they found several of the stalls had already closed, having presumably disposed of their stock. The strengthening wind was blowing bits of paper and plastic bags along the road, and quite a number of people were making their way back to their cars, the excitement of the day behind them. Callum glanced at his watch. Two thirty. He hadn’t been far out in his estimate; by the time the last of the pillion riders returned, the fair itself would be virtually over.
As promised, they made their way to the playground and the dodgem cars, where Josh, despite his reservations, spent a happy quarter of an hour zooming round crashing into everything in sight.
The ride over, they walked back to the main street, finding it still crowded as people continued to pour back from the display field.
‘Nothing else you want to do?’ Callum asked. By this time he was longing for the warmth and comfort of his car; his back was aching after all the standing, and the first tendrils of pain warned of a return of his headache.
‘I’d love another coke,’ Josh said.
Callum sighed. ‘The stalls are closing down now. I doubt if—’
‘We passed one just before we turned off for the playground,’ Josh told him eagerly.
Callum looked back the way they had come. It would mean forging their way against the crowd for a hundred yards or so, and his heart sank. ‘Can’t you wait till you get home?’
‘I’m thirsty,’ Josh said simply. ‘Look, you wait here if you like. I’ll only be a tick.’
‘I don’t think—’
‘Really, it’s fine.’ And with that he was off, vanishing as the oncoming crowd parted to let him through. Callum edged back against the wall of the adjacent building and briefly closed his eyes. Well, their last expedition had been a resounding success. He was sad that it must be the last, but Judy had a point: without realizing it, he’d been neglecting his own kids, and that was unforgivable.
Somewhere to his right, a clock began to chime the hour. Callum opened his eyes with a start, and looked up the road. There was no sign of Josh. He should have been back by now – Callum wasn’t sure of the exact time he’d set off, but it must be getting on for ten minutes ago. Perhaps there was a queue for the coke.
He turned up his coat collar as the wind came whistling down the street, his eyes scouring the faces coming towards him. He shouldn’t have let the boy go by himself, he thought. But after all, he wasn’t a young kid; he was surely capable of going a hundred yards by himself along a crowded street. All the same, anxiety began to needle him, and, pushing himself away from the wall, he began to walk towards the coke stall, scanning everyone he passed in case he inadvertently missed the boy. The turning to the school and playground led off to his left and he glanced down it as he passed. Several fathers and sons were leaving the dodgem track and making for the main street. Callum went on, and a few yards further along, came to the stall that had sold coke. There was no queue, and the stallholder was packing up.
Callum’s stomach contracted. ‘Did you serve a lad some coke a few minutes ago?’
The man didn’t look up. ‘Been serving ’em all day, mate.’
‘But just now? A boy of thirteen, wearing jeans and a blue jacket?’
The man shook his head. ‘Sold out some ten minutes since.’
Callum’s heart started thumping. ‘Then did he at least come and ask for one?’
‘No, I’ve not turned anyone away.’
‘Who bought the last one?’ Callum persisted.
The man frowned. ‘A geezer getting one for his kid. Haven’t seen a boy the age you’re after for a half-hour or more.’
‘Oh God,’ Callum said. ‘Right, well I must have missed him along the way.’
The man nodded and returned to his dismantling, and Callum, now distinctly worried, started to walk quickly back the way he’d come. Had Josh a mobile? He’d not thought to ask. God, why hadn’t he? Because, he answered himself, he’d never anticipated them being separated, and Josh’s decision to go back had been so quick, he’d had neither the time nor the thought to ask.
Somehow, despite his care, they must have passed each other on the crowded pavement. Josh wasn’t very tall – he could easily have been obscured. When Callum reached the place they’d parted, he was sure to be waiting.
But he was not. Above the pounding of his heart and the corresponding thump of his head, Callum tried to think what the boy would do when he realized they’d missed each other. Wait here for Callum’s return, or make his way to the car? God, what should he do?
In an agony of indecision, he decided to stay where he was for another five minutes, and if Josh didn’t reappear, he’d go to the car. But that was almost ten minutes’ walk away, and if Josh weren’t there, twenty minutes would have been lost. Useless to ask passers-by if they’d seen a boy in jeans and trainers; every boy who passed him was similarly attired.
Most fairs these days had a lost child centre, but the loudspeaker had made no mention of one, perhaps because no very young children were expected. Then, as though in answer to his prayer, he caught sight of a policeman – a good, old-fashioned village bobby, passing the time of day with a man on a bike.
Callum approached him, breaking into their conversation without ceremony.
‘Excuse me, officer, I wonder if you can help me?’
‘I’ll do my best, sir.’
‘I seem to have lost a boy of thirteen. I wonder if he’s been trying to find me?’
‘Your son, is it, sir?’
‘No, the son of friends. We were on our way to the car, when he said he was thirsty and ran back to buy some coke. I – haven’t seen him since.’
‘How long ago was this, sir?’
Trying to respond to the officer’s calmness, Callum glanced at his watch. ‘About twenty minutes.’
‘Did you arrange where to meet?’
‘Well, no. It all happened very quickly. He suggested I wait where I was while he ran back, and then he was gone. I waited, and he didn’t come back. So I went to the coke stall, and the man said he’d sold out some time before and hadn’t seen him.’
‘Could you have passed each other in the crowd?’
‘That’s what I thought, but when I got back to where we’d parted, he wasn’t there, either.’
The policeman frowned. ‘Well, sir, I reckon it’s a bit too soon to start panicking. Not as if he’s a young kid. Got a tongue in his head, hasn’t he?’
‘Yes, he’s – a sensible boy, but I just – don’t know what to do. He could have gone back to the car, I suppose. I was about to go and look, when I saw you.’
‘Well, why don’t you do that, sir? In the meantime, I’ll make a few enquiries. If you find him, well and good. If not, come back here. I’ll be at the church gateway, just over there, at –’ he checked his watch – ‘three thirty, and I’ll wait there ten minutes. If you’ve not had any luck, we can take it further then, but it’s my bet he’ll be waiting for you, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, at the car.’
&n
bsp; ‘I hope to God you’re right,’ Callum said.
The road back to the field where the cars were seemed endless, and Callum had no compunction in elbowing people aside as he half walked, half ran along it. A stitch dug into his side, but he ignored it, repeating a silent mantra over and over: Please let him be there, please let him be there.
Yet when he reached the field and saw row after row of cars, he had a moment of panic, unsure whether he could find the car himself, let alone expect a thirteen-year-old to do so. It took him several agonizing minutes, during which he twice mistook a car for his own, before he came across it. And there was no sign of Josh. By then, he hadn’t expected there to be.
Seven
The constable was waiting when Callum, sweating and sick with worry, returned to the village.
‘No luck, sir?’
Callum shook his head, bending over to ease the stitch in his side.
‘Right, then we’ll make an announcement.’ He pulled out his walkie-talkie, and minutes later the strident music was interrupted to be replaced by the organizer’s voice.
‘Attention, everyone! Could I have your attention, please? Will Josh Nelson, aged thirteen, please make his way to the church gate at the north end of the village – that’s nearest the car park – where his uncle is waiting for him. I repeat, Josh Nelson, please go to the church gate where your uncle is waiting. Thank you.’
‘That should do it,’ the constable said rallyingly, and Callum, accepting the relationship conferred on him rather than embark on explanations, nodded.
‘Now sir, the rain’s coming on and there’s no sense in both of us getting wet. The Copper Kettle’s just two doors up. Why don’t you get yourself a nice cup of tea, and I’ll bring the youngster to you when he turns up.’
‘I think I should wait here. It said on the announcement—’
‘Not afraid of the police, is he, sir, this lad of yours?’
‘No, no, of course not.’
‘Then do as I say. You look as if you could do with a sit-down. I’ll see to things this end.’
Callum nodded again – he seemed incapable of speech – and almost without volition walked the few yards to the café. The windows were running with condensation, but he took a table near them and cleared a space on the glass. By leaning forward slightly, he could just see the blue uniform of the policeman. Come on, Josh! he was thinking. You must have heard that! Don’t you realize how worried I am?
He ordered a pot of tea and sat back, loosening his jacket and trying to breathe normally. Then a thought struck him. If Josh didn’t reappear within the next few minutes, he’d have to ring home to say they’d be late back. And what else would he say? Oh God, would he have to tell Bob and Elaine that Josh was lost? When he’d been in charge of him? It didn’t bear thinking of.
He started to rise, bent on returning outside and somehow hurrying things up, but almost collided with the waitress bringing his tea, and with a muttered apology sank back in his chair. Unbearably hot now, he shrugged out of his jacket and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Should the announcement have been more detailed, given a description of Josh? But how to describe him in those surroundings, where all the boys looked much the same?
A splatter of rain rattled on the window beside him, making him jump. For a moment he was afraid he was going to vomit, and looked hastily round for any available rest rooms. But the spasm passed and he drew a deep, steadying breath. Nothing to be gained from panicking, he thought. He poured the tea with a shaking hand, some of it slopping into the saucer, and was raising his cup to his lips when again the music outside was halted.
‘This is an announcement for Josh Nelson, aged thirteen. Your uncle is waiting for you at the church gate at the end of the village nearest the car park. Please make your way there as soon as possible.’
He hadn’t turned up, then. God, where was he? Could he have gone back to the dodgem cars? He might have heard the announcement, but not known how to stop the car in mid-operation – it was remotely controlled, after all. The duration of the ride was fifteen minutes, Callum remembered, in which case he should arrive any time now. A part of his mind questioned why, when they were on the way home, Josh should have returned to the dodgems they’d just left, but he daren’t examine it, had to hang on to the possibility.
Suddenly, quite desperately, he needed to hear Judy’s voice. She’d have some explanation he’d not thought of – she was bound to have. Feverishly he pulled his mobile out of his pocket and speed-dialled.
‘Hello?’ How normal she sounded, how safe and ordinary.
‘Jude? It’s me.’
‘Callum? What is it? You sound funny. Where are you? We’re expecting you home any minute.’
He swallowed. ‘There’s been a hiccup, I’m afraid. I – can’t find Josh.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I can’t find him, Jude. He went for a coke, just a hundred yards away, but he hasn’t come back. There have been loudspeaker announcements, but so far he hasn’t turned up.’
‘Oh, my God,’ she breathed. ‘How long ago was this?’
Callum looked at his watch. ‘Getting on for an hour now.’ As he said the words, the frail hope he’d pinned on the dodgems wilted away. ‘Jude, what should I do?’
‘Have you called the police?’
‘I’ve spoken to the village bobby, and he organized the announcement.’ He cleared the window again and peered out at the now wet street and the straggling crowd. The policeman still stood by the gate, now engaged in conversation with another man. ‘It’s turned wet, and most people have either left or are leaving, but there’s no sign of him. He can’t have run away, can he?’
‘Josh? Of course not. Could he have fallen, sprained his ankle or something?’
‘Judy, you don’t know what it’s been like! The place has been packed all day. I doubt if there was space for him to fall, but if he did, he’d have been helped at once.’
‘Could he have been taken to a first aid tent or something?’
Briefly, Callum thought of the St John Ambulance at the display field. Let’s hope it isn’t needed, he’d said.
‘Callum?’
‘Possibly, but he’s not a baby. He’d have given them his name and said I was waiting, and if someone did help him, they’d have heard the announcement themselves, and let us know.’
There was a pause, then Judy said, ‘Would you like me to tell Bob and Elaine?’
‘Do you think we could wait a while?’ he asked desperately.
‘No, Callum, I don’t. Not when he’s been missing an hour.’
Missing. It was a word he’d instinctively avoided, even to himself. ‘Lost’ was somehow much more palatable. ‘Missing’ had connotations of endless waiting and searching, sometimes lasting for weeks, with tearful parents on TV, and often ending in tragedy. Bile rose in his throat.
‘I’ll get on to them now, and phone you back,’ Judy said.
He closed his phone, fumbled in his pocket for change, and, pushing aside the barely touched tea cup, dropped money on the table, shrugged on his jacket, and stumbled out into the rain.
It was over five minutes before Callum’s phone rang, and then it was Bob, not Judy, calling.
‘Callum, what the hell is this?’
‘Bob, I don’t know what to say. He—’
‘Is there any news?’
‘No. Most people have gone now and it’s easier to look, but so far there’s been no sign of him. He can’t be far. God, he only—’
‘I’m on my way,’ Bob said.
Callum turned to the policeman, whom he now knew to be PC Dawson. ‘Josh’s father’s coming.’
‘Right, sir, that’s probably for the best.’
‘I just don’t understand,’ Callum said helplessly. ‘He can’t disappear into thin air.’
‘Seems that’s exactly what he has done, sir.’
‘You must have known many cases like this. They turn up eventually, don’t they?�
��
‘Yes, sir, they usually do. Eventually. And you’re lucky in one way; because of the event today, there are more police around than usual – keeping an eye open for trouble, and so on.’
‘Has there been any?’ Could Josh have been caught up in a fight?
‘Not to speak of. The odd fisticuffs outside the pub, but nothing serious. No sign of drugs, which is a blessing in this day and age.’
Callum paused for a minute, the rain sluicing down his face. Then, frantic for action of some kind, he said quickly, ‘I think I’ll go and have a look at the display field,’ and before Dawson could comment, set off, hurrying along the road as hope, that most inextinguishable of human emotions, flared again.
But after trekking the length of the main street and beyond, the deserted field proved a sorry sight, pools forming on the grass and discarded crisp packets blowing in the wind. The last of the motorbikes had gone, spatters of oil and deeply grooved grass the only proof of their existence. A child’s woollen glove lay forgotten under the hedge. With a catch in his throat, Callum recalled Josh’s glowing face less than two hours ago, and his excited verdict: ‘That was awesome!’ Oh, God, where was he?
As he walked disconsolately back, he came upon impromptu search parties systematically working their way up and down the road and the turnings that led off it. They seemed to be composed mainly of villagers, but there were several uniformed policemen among them, and he nodded gratefully to them as he passed. He’d have liked to join in himself – anything rather than standing uselessly in the rain – but Bob would be here soon, and, God help him, he had to be there to meet him.
‘It’s still early days,’ Dawson said, as Callum rejoined him. ‘We’ve had someone posted at the car park for the last half-hour, questioning people as they leave. No results so far, but someone may have seen something.’
If only, Callum thought, he’d forbidden Josh to go back for that coke. The boy would have obeyed him, he knew. Or if only he’d gone with him. It was tiredness and the resurfacing headache that had made it too much of an effort. God, if he’d known what that spinelessness would cost him.
Thicker Than Water Page 9
