‘Okay, Grandaddy!’ Scarlett said, already filling her plastic bucket up with sand. ‘When you come back can you build a sandcastle with me?’
‘’Course I can, darling. I tell you what, I’ll build you ten! How does that sound!’
‘Ten? Wow. Okay, Grandaddy! I’ll make the ground all flat ready for them.’
Michael smiled then, before skulking off to where he knew Jess was waiting for him inside the toilet cubicle.
This beautiful young woman. Fancying him? What were the chances? Slim to none that’s what they were, so there was no way he was going to pass this opportunity off he decided, pushing down the guilt that he felt about leaving Scarlett alone. He refused to let his conscience get the better of him.
Reaching the door, he gave the playground one last glance over, checking that the mother playing with her child on the other side of the playground wasn’t watching as he followed Jess into the toilets.
The last thing he needed was any unwanted attention from any of the do-gooder mothers around here. Casting aspersions on him for leaving his great-granddaughter unattended. Or worse, labelling him as some dirty old pervert.
Though there was no one looking. Nobody paying him the slightest bit of attention.
He looked at Scarlett then. Happily patting the ground with her spade, and scooping up heaps of sand.
Five minutes max. That’s all he’d need.
He almost giggled out loud then, knowing how long he’d gone without sex, and how hot Jess was. He’d be lucky if he even made it past three minutes, let alone five.
Stepping into the toilet block, he saw Jess and smiled, before she pulled him inside the cubicle and shut the door behind them, kissing him intently, as he groped at her small pert breasts through the material of her dress.
All thoughts of his great-granddaughter were very quickly banished from his mind. Jess Green was not only stunningly beautiful, funny and kind. But the girl was a real goer too, it seemed. Fuck knows why, but she’d seen something in Michael that Michael didn’t even know was there himself.
Kissing her back passionately, he couldn’t believe his luck.
Michael Byrne was getting carried away with himself.
Just the sight and smell of Jess pressed up against him in the tiny toilet cubicle was almost enough to make him go off like a starting pistol.
He had to pace himself, he thought, show the girl that despite the age difference, he still had stamina.
Though that was easier said than done, groping her firm young body. He tried to think of anything he could to stop him from finishing the race before he’d even begun.
Train crash. Train crash.
Though, it helped that they were in a grotty toilet cubicle he figured. The lingering smell of human excrement and toilet bleach helped to bring him back down to reality.
Jess didn’t seem to notice any of that, or at least she hadn’t at first.
‘I can’t…’ she mumbled, pulling Michael’s hand back out from beneath her skirt, looking as if she was starting to have second thoughts.
‘What’s the matter?’ Michael said, worried that Jess had somehow come to her senses and realised that Michael was nothing more than an old, wrinkly man. Pawing at her.
‘Is it me?’
‘No. God, no. Sorry. It’s just this place,’ Jess said, wrinkling her nose up at the rancid smell in the air and trying her hardest not to look down at the crusty brown skid marks that lined the inside of the toilet. ‘It’s just so grotty. Sorry. It’s really putting me off, if I’m honest.’
‘That’s okay.’ Michael nodded, relieved that it wasn’t him that had killed the mood.
This place was pretty disgusting to be fair.
‘Maybe we could do this properly? Somewhere else?’ Jess said, stroking Michael Byrne’s face as she talked, letting him know that she was still interested. ‘How about back at yours?’
Michael shook his head then, suddenly regretting all the lies he’d told Jess. About how his wife had passed away suddenly and that he now lived on his own in a big old house in Richmond.
Another part of his big lie.
The rich widower.
‘We can’t really go back to my place…’ Michael said, trying to quickly think of a reason to justify why. ‘My house is being renovated. I’ve got builders there at the moment.’
‘What about a hotel then?’ Jess grinned, pressing herself up closer to Michael. Knowing that he would be easily persuaded.
‘Well, I guess that’s doable,’ Michael said then, feeling hot under the collar as he tried to contain himself. The longing inside him was becoming almost too much.
‘When?’ Jess asked, her breath hot on his neck, burying her head into his chest.
Michael took a deep breath.
Joanie. Joanie. Joanie, he thought to himself, hoping that thoughts of his wife would bring him back down to earth again. And somehow ease the throbbing sensation that he was feeling inside his underpants right now.
‘Tomorrow?’ he said, his voice coming out in no more than a squeak.
Fuck knows how he was going to get around Joanie and manage to make a hotel booking without the woman getting wind of it.
Joanie held all the purse strings in the house, and every penny was accounted for.
In the bank accounts anyway, he thought, recalling the stash of money he knew she kept in the back of her dressing table drawer.
He’d take some of that. Joanie would never notice, and even when she did, he’d have more or less got away with it by then.
She’d never need to know what he’d done with the money. He could make out that he placed a few wagers on the horses.
It would cause an almighty row, but looking down at Jess, feeling the want and longing radiating from the girl, Michael knew that it would be more than worth the risk.
‘Tomorrow then.’ Jess smiled, happy that they’d made it a date. ‘I’ll meet you here, the usual time?’
Michael nodded.
‘Okay! I’ll sneak out first. Give me a few minutes and then you come out. We don’t want to get any of the other yummy-mummies out there gossiping about us, do we?’ Jess kissed Michael on the cheek. ‘Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, Michael, don’t be late!’ Jess said, playfully wagging her finger in Michael’s direction before blowing him a cheeky kiss.
Watching as Jess stepped out of the public toilets, closing the door behind her.
Taking a deep breath, he pressed his hand up against the wall to steady himself. Still unable to believe his good fortune. As he tucked his shirt back inside his trousers in an attempt to make himself look less dishevelled, he stared at his reflection through the smears in the mirror, unable to wipe the smile from his face.
He still bloody had it, after all these years!
There was life in the old dog yet.
‘You lucky, lucky bastard!’ he said then, chuckling to himself as he realised how smug he looked.
It was crazy to think that underneath all of his wrinkles and lines on his skin, he still felt like a young man. As if he was thirty years old.
Especially on days like today, when he was with Jess.
Even if she was after his money, he’d happily settle for that.
Despite the fact that by the time the poor cow realised that not only had he lied to her about that, that he had a wife too.
One who was very much alive and kicking, and likely to string him up by his testicles if she even suspected that Michael was back to his old ways.
Still, what Joanie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and by the time Jess found out that Michael had nothing to offer her, nothing of any monetary value anyway, it would be far too late for her to do anything about it.
Michael would have already got what he wanted from her by then.
He smirked, staring at the stony blue eyes looking back at him.
Yep, there he was. Still in there somewhere.
Michael Byrne.
Just as young and self-centred as he
’d always been.
Ahh, well. Fuck it, you only live once and you’re a long time dead, he thought to himself as he stepped out of the toilet cubicles with a spring in his step.
Ready to build those ten sandcastles he’d promised Scarlett.
He might be getting on, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have a bit of fun once in a while.
‘Scarlett?’ Michael Byrne said, as he eyed the empty sandpit and wondered where his great-granddaughter had got to. Spotting her bucket and spade discarded on the floor next to the empty sand box.
Annoyed then, that Scarlett had simply wandered off, when he’d told her to stay in the sandpit.
That he’d only be five minutes.
Kids!
Looking over at the climbing frame he breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the two little girls sitting at the entrance of the slide. Scarlett in her florescent pink jacket.
‘Scarlett! I told you not to wander off,’ he muttered, making his way over just as both girls shot down the tube slide.
Still, at least she was okay.
He’d panicked for a second. Thinking that something bad might have happened. That Scarlett had wandered out into the main road, or something even worse that didn’t even bear thinking about.
He scolded himself then, as he watched the first child come shooting out the bottom of the slide.
Leaving Scarlett to play on her own was a stupid thing to do. If anything had happened to her, he’d never have forgiven himself.
He decided that he’d make it up to her; that not only would he treat her to a nice hot chocolate today, but he’d buy her a slice of cake too.
Watching as the second child shot out of the slide and onto the rubber mat, his panic quickly resumed.
‘Scarlett?’ Michael said, realising straight away that the child wasn’t his great-granddaughter. She just had the same coat.
‘Are you okay?’ the mother of the children said then, a curious look on her face as she spotted Michael approaching her daughter.
He held his hands up, showing the woman he meant no harm.
‘I’m looking for my great-granddaughter,’ he said, spinning around and scanning the park, shaking his head, and muttering loudly to himself as he realised that she was nowhere to be seen.
A little boy was on the swing, his mother standing behind him pushing him as he squealed in delight. Another woman was walking her two Jack Russells just outside the playground’s borders.
‘Have you lost her?’ the woman said, again. Trying to be helpful; only stating the fucking obvious wasn’t what Michael needed right now.
Yes, he’d lost her!
Michael looked as if he was about to cry then.
‘I only left her for a few minutes. She was here.’ Michael was panicking. Pacing the playground. Cursing himself for leaving her alone like that.
‘She’s wearing the same jacket as your little girl. Except my Scarlett’s a bit younger. She’s only four. She was here a minute ago. Over there in the sandpit. Are you sure you didn’t see anything?’
‘No, sorry. I didn’t see a thing.’
Shit!
‘Scarlett?’ Michael started shouting then, frantically screaming out Scarlett’s name. Sweating and shaking with anxiety, as he ran round looking inside the tunnel slides and behind the climbing frames, in case the child thought this was some kind of a game.
‘Scarlett, if you’re hiding from Grandaddy, it’s not funny. Stop messing around, love, and come out!’
Silence.
She wasn’t there.
He eyed the main park gates, wondering if perhaps Scarlett had got bored and decided to make her own way home. Or the woodlands next to the park, with its thick lining of trees.
She wouldn’t have gone wandering in there, would she?
‘Do you want me to call the police?’ the woman said now, the expression on her face looking almost as concerned as Michael’s.
He shook his head.
The first thought that came to his mind was Nancy.
How she’d bloody murder him when she found out that he’d left Scarlett all alone. Joanie would be next in line, of course.
Between the two of them, they’d have him hung, drawn and quartered before he’d even taken his coat off.
Shit!
An awful feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about some of the stories he’d read in the paper recently. About paedophiles that hang around parks. Getting off on watching the little kids that play there.
What if Scarlett wasn’t playing? What if she wasn’t hiding?
What if someone had taken her?
Blind panic set in then.
‘Scarlett? Scarlett?’ Michael was bellowing now. Shouting his great-granddaughter’s name at the top of his lungs.
Michael Byrne pleaded. Not knowing what else he could do.
Go home and face the wrath of Joanie and Nancy, or call the Old Bill.
Though as soon as he called the plod, Jack Taylor would find out that his child was missing; so either way, Michael was royally screwed.
‘Yes. Please, call them,’ Michael Byrne said then, changing his mind and nodding.
He was going to need the Old Bill for his own protection, if anything, once his family got wind of what he’d done today.
‘Scarlett! Scarlett!’ He continued searching the park, screaming her name, until ten minutes later, when the police turned up.
Only Scarlett Byrne didn’t answer back.
The child was gone.
Twenty-Seven
Screeching up the driveway, Nancy Byrne pulled up outside her house.
Though how she’d managed to get here in one piece, she had no idea. With no recollection of the journey, she’d no doubt just driven across London like a woman demented.
She was still in shock.
The phone call that she’d received from Jack just twenty minutes ago, still replaying over and over again in her head.
Jack had made a mistake. They all had, she thought, as she eyed the row of police cars that lined the driveway outside her house.
Switching the engine off, Nancy ran into the house.
‘Jack? Nan?’ she shouted, making her way in to the kitchen where everyone was. She threw her bag down on the floor and stared at Jack.
Willing him to tell her that it was all just a huge misunderstanding.
That Scarlett was here. That they’d found her.
‘Where is she?’ Nancy said, as the room fell silent.
A sea of faces turning to look at her.
Jack stood up, making his way towards Nancy. His arms outstretched. The solemn look on his face only confirming that it was true.
That her worst nightmare had been bestowed upon them.
‘No, Jack. Please. She’s here. She has to be,’ Nancy said, her voice a high-pitched wail. No longer giving a shit that everyone in the room was looking at her. That they could all hear the fear in her voice. The underlining panic that was so evidently there.
‘Nancy. We’re going to find her,’ Jack said now, his tone full of a confidence that Nancy was certain he couldn’t have really felt.
Not when their baby was missing.
Their Scarlett, out there in the world without them, on her own.
‘She can’t have just disappeared. Are you sure that you checked the house properly? She could be hiding,’ Nancy said, suddenly figuring it out. That’s what had happened. Scarlett was playing hide-and-seek.
She was playing with them all.
Only the game had got out of hand, and now everyone was worried, and the police had been called.
‘She’s scared!’ Nancy said. ‘She probably thinks we’re all going to shout at her.’
Jack looked at Joanie then, alarmed that she didn’t seem to be taking anything in, but before he could say anything else Nancy turned and ran from the room.
Racing up the stairs, she began searching in all the bedrooms. Throwing herself down on the floor, and checking und
erneath each one of the beds, before she started looking inside the wardrobes then too.
‘Scarlett, baby, Mummy’s here. No one’s going to shout at you, darling. No one’s mad. Just come out from wherever you’re hiding and show Mummy that you’re okay.’
Jack was there then, standing in the doorway.
His heart breaking as he watched Nancy, so adamant that she would find Scarlett when nobody else could.
‘Nancy!’ he said softly, as she pushed past him.
Purposely not listening to him as she continued dragging out each room. Pulling out the contents of cupboards and toy boxes.
Until there was nowhere else left to look.
‘Where is she?’ She was crying now. The realisation hitting her that it was true.
That Scarlett really wasn’t here. Her little girl was missing.
‘Jesus, Jack. Where is she?’
Sinking down onto her knees and letting a sound escape her mouth that sounded like that of a wounded, scared animal.
And Jack was there then. Wrapping his arms around her, and holding her tight.
‘We’re going to find her, Nancy, I promise,’ he said, as he hugged Nancy to him, letting her cry. Letting her get all her pain and worry out.
Before he helped her back to her feet.
‘Come on, let’s get you back downstairs. You need a drink,’ he said, knowing that the shock would be setting in now. ‘Come and sit with Joanie while I go back to Richmond Park. We’re going to do another search of the entire place. I only came back in case she’d made her way back here…’ Jack said. Trying to sound like he had everything in hand, like this wasn’t his darling daughter he was talking about. That this was just another case.
‘The park?’ Nancy said, feeling as if she was floating as Jack led her down the stairs. Her legs were trembling with every step, and she felt sick to her stomach.
Bile at the back of her throat threatening to explode from her.
Remembering that Jack had told her that’s where she’d gone missing.
That she’d been at the park with Michael.
‘I don’t understand?’ Nancy said. Locking eyes with her grandad, as the man sat at the kitchen table. His head down; he hadn’t said a word.
The Forgotten_An absolutely gripping, gritty thriller novel Page 20
