by Angela Hart
‘At least you didn’t walk into the police station like that,’ Jonathan joked. ‘Melissa might have run the other way again!’
We parked up and went into the small station. Melissa was in a room with two female officers. She looked at the floor when Jonathan and I walked in.
‘We’ve had a word with her,’ one of the officers said gently. ‘I think Melissa understands that it’s dangerous to run away and go missing.’
Melissa slowly peeled her eyes off the floor and looked at me.
‘Sorry,’ she said softly.
She was curling a long strand of hair around her finger and looked very young and vulnerable. I wanted to tell her how sorry we were too that this had happened again, and to explain how worried we’d been, but I stopped myself, remembering the advice in the article Lynne had shown me.
‘How are you feeling?’ I asked. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘I’m all right. I’ve eaten well, actually. I’ve been well looked after.’
She had a coat on her lap and told me one of her friends had given it to her. The other female officer told us that Melissa had been picked up at a flat. The police had been tipped off that a youth they were looking for in connection with a burglary lived there, and when they knocked Melissa answered the door. We learned that the photograph of her that we’d given to the police had been circulated around some of the local police stations in the area, and one of the attending officers had seen it and recognised Melissa immediately. Apparently, she said she didn’t realise her friend had done anything wrong, or she wouldn’t have stayed in the flat. The female officer also reported to us that Melissa had commented, ‘I only went there ’cos my friend didn’t want to stay there on her own.’
‘Do you want to tell Mr and Mrs Hart anything else? Maybe who the friend is?’
Melissa was not forthcoming and the officer looked at me. ‘Melissa was the only girl we picked up. The other girl – her friend – had not been reported missing.’
‘Was it Sam?’ I asked.
Melissa looked at the floor again and I thought she was going to cry.
The first police officer put her hand on Melissa’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘Look, love, you’re too young to stay out at night like this. Just because your friends are allowed out it doesn’t mean you are too.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go missing for so long. I just wanted to see my friends for a bit, and then . . .’
She bit her lip.
‘And then?’
‘We got invited to Finn’s and, I’m sorry . . .’ Tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘I didn’t know anyone was in trouble with the police.’
‘Can I give you a hug?’ I asked.
She shook her head. ‘I’m all right, but thanks. I won’t do it again. I’m so sorry.’
The officers thanked us for collecting Melissa, handed her back a bag and wished us the best of luck.
‘Don’t worry, love,’ the first one said sympathetically. ‘We all got up to some kind of mischief when we were kids. You’re safe now. Just don’t do it again, d’you hear?’
Melissa nodded. ‘I won’t.’
When we got in the car Melissa told us she felt really bad about the worry she’d put us through and promised she was not going to run away ever again.
‘Can I see TJ tomorrow?’
My heart sank. It seemed utterly ridiculous that I would even consider sanctioning this after what had just happened. I told her it would be helpful if she would talk to us some more about what had gone on over the last few days. I reassured her that she would not be in any trouble and that I just wanted to keep her safe and to help and support her. Unfortunately, she didn’t want to talk about her missing days any more, and so we still had no reasonable explanation about why she’d run away, what TJ’s involvement was or whether he had been at the flat she was eventually found in.
‘It’s late now. Let’s talk again tomorrow,’ I said eventually. ‘Let’s just get you back to the house.’
‘OK. But I can see him, right? I’m allowed. I know I am. My social worker told me you can’t stop me going out.’ She said this in a pitiful rather than an accusatory way. I was shocked at her naivety. How could she not realise how inappropriate it was to be nagging us about seeing TJ when she’d just run off with him like this? I wondered what on earth was going on in her head. It was as if the way she behaved had somehow been normalised, when in fact it was completely wrong. I thought of Marty when that word – normalised – came into my head. He had thought it normal to touch other children inappropriately. Melissa seemed to think it was acceptable to keep going out with people who were clearly leading her astray. What had gone on in her earlier life to make her this way, or was it that something was going on in her life now that was pulling her in the wrong direction, again and again? I reckoned it was probably a combination of the two. What a mess, I thought. Parents who don’t care properly for their children really have no idea how much harm they do, not only in the moment but also for years to come.
Jonathan must have been thinking similar thoughts about Melissa wanting to see TJ. He cleared his throat. ‘Melissa, I’m not sure you realise or remember this, but I actually saw you getting into TJ’s van, before you went missing. We need to be able to trust that when you see him, or any of your other friends, you tell us exactly what you are doing and where you are going, and you come home at 9 p.m.’
‘OK. I promise I’ll be back by 9 p.m.’ She said this flippantly and in an insincere, sing-songy voice, then reined herself in and whispered, ‘Sorry. I promise. I will be back by nine. I won’t run away again. It wasn’t TJ’s fault. It wasn’t anything to do with him.’
I repeated that we’d talk about this the next day, and she agreed. She shut her eyes and we spent the rest of the journey in silence.
Back home, Melissa chatted politely with my mum and then said she was very tired and went up to bed.
‘What a lovely girl,’ Mum said. ‘And no trouble at bedtime. When you were that age you were always asking me if you could stay up later.’
I smiled, more to myself than to my mum. If only she knew.
15
‘There’s something in the sink’
The house was very quiet when I woke on Saturday morning. Jonathan had already gone to work in the shop, though I hadn’t heard him get up. When I looked at the clock I was surprised it was eight thirty because I normally woke much earlier, even at weekends.
I sat up in bed and thought about the events of the previous evening. Melissa’s behaviour was so puzzling and unpredictable and I wondered what the day would bring. It was the football tournament later, which the boys were looking forward to. Jonathan and I both wanted to take them and had arranged cover in the shop, but what about Melissa? Would she come with us? Mum had offered to come over and sit with her, but what if Melissa ran off?
I climbed out of bed and put on my dressing gown. I felt refreshed, though I remembered lying in bed and fretting about whether Melissa would be there in the morning or go missing in the night. In the end, I must have been so exhausted I fell asleep.
None of the three children were up, and I enjoyed having breakfast on my own. I’d wake them all up at ten if they didn’t appear before then. I’ve always appreciated that growing children – and especially pre-teens and teens – need a bit of a lie-in. Their minds and bodies are going through so many changes. I understand it’s a physical need rather than laziness that makes them lie in bed for longer than adults.
Melissa’s trainers were where she’d left them in the hall and that put my mind at rest. I also knew Jonathan would have checked that the doors were not unlocked when he went through to the shop, and if he’d had any suspicions that Melissa had done a runner I’d have known about it by now.
I’d enjoyed my cereal and was just putting my empty bowl in the dishwasher when Ryan appeared.
‘Good morning!’ I said, turning round as I heard the kitchen door creak open. ‘Did you sleep well? D’
you want a cup of tea?’
Ryan said no very quietly.
‘Still waking up?’ I looked at him properly now, and caught my breath. He was very pale and looked scared.
‘Ryan, sweetheart, are you OK?’
‘Er, no, not really. There’s something in the sink.’
‘The sink?’ Confused, I looked across to the kitchen sink. It was empty. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The bathroom.’
‘You mean the washbasin? In which bathroom?’
‘Ours.’
‘OK. Do you know what it is?’
Ryan shook his head. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.
‘Shall I go and have a look?’
‘Yes please. Can I stay here?’
‘Yes, if you want to.’
I went up to the children’s bathroom with my heart in my mouth, not knowing what to expect. When I pushed open the door, in the half-light of the morning I could see deep red splashes in the basin and splattered up the mirror. I gasped, shocked to my core, and put my hand to my lips. What on earth had happened?
I reached for the bathroom light with a shaking hand. I could feel the adrenaline coursing around my body, afraid of what else I was going to discover.
My eyes adjusted to the brightness of the light and I could now see that it wasn’t blood, as Ryan must have thought, and as I’d feared. It was nothing more than red hair dye. Thank God that isn’t what I thought it was, I said to myself, exhaling deeply and immediately taking in a long, deep breath. Thank God for that.
I could smell the ammonia now too, and when I put my foot on the pedal bin and the lid popped up I saw the packet of ‘cherry red’ dye. I immediately thought back to the bag Melissa had been carrying when the police handed her over. The dye must have been in there, as I certainly didn’t keep any in the house.
‘Melissa,’ I said to myself as I opened the vanity unit beneath the basin, pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and took hold of a cloth and some cleaning fluid. Even though I wanted to get back to the kitchen as quickly as possible and explain this to Ryan, I had to clean up first. I didn’t want Marty to see this mess and have a shock too. Nor did I want the dye to damage the bathroom fittings, but most of all I wanted to remove all trace of the dye so Ryan didn’t have to look at it again. He’d had an awful fright, poor lad.
I had no idea how Ryan’s brother had taken his own life. All I knew was that he had been twenty-three years old and had left a note, making accusations about their late parents. I didn’t know where Ryan was at the time or what he knew. After this experience I started to wonder whether blood was involved, and precisely what Ryan had seen or heard.
When I returned to the kitchen Ryan was still as white as a sheet and was staring at the wall blankly. He jumped when I came through the door.
‘It’s OK, sweetheart. I’ve cleaned up the mess. It was only hair dye. Melissa must have dyed her hair in the night.’
‘What?’ He looked confused.
‘You know, hair dye. That’s what was in the washbasin and on the mirror. It was Melissa, or at least I’m assuming it was Melissa.’ In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere I added, ‘Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Marty fancied a change and he’s the one who’s dyed his hair cherry red?’
To my relief, Ryan finally grinned. ‘I don’t think he’d do that. He’s a City fan. I’m the Red!’
I smiled. ‘Well perhaps it was Jonathan? I haven’t seen him yet this morning, he’s in the shop. Listen, Ryan, you know that if there’s anything you want to talk about you can say anything you want to me.’
‘I know. Am I allowed to have hot chocolate?’
‘Yes, sweetheart. And do you want some toast or cereal?’
‘No thanks. I’ll get something later.’
Marty appeared while Ryan was drinking his hot chocolate. Ryan’s colour had returned to his cheeks and he appeared to be back to his usual, quick-witted self.
‘It wasn’t him,’ he said, quick as a flash, nodding towards Marty.
‘It wasn’t me, what?’
‘You didn’t dye your hair bright red in the middle of the night.’
‘Er, no. What are you on about?’
Before either of us had chance to answer him, Melissa bounced into the kitchen. Her auburn hair was visibly redder and I could smell the dye. I introduced her to Marty, realising that they still hadn’t met. Then, to break the ice, I jokingly told her we were wondering if he was the one who’d been up in the night dying his hair. Marty looked even more confused now, while Melissa laughed and then greeted Ryan with a playful punch on the arm, saying, ‘All right, mate?’
Ryan gave her the thumbs-up and said, ‘Sweet.’ This made me smile; I always find it endearing when the kids lapse so effortlessly into their own sublanguage. It tells me they are making an effort to get on with each other, and that this is their conversation, and not one for adults to take part in.
‘So, didn’t you sleep well, Melissa?’ I asked eventually, raising my eyebrows and looking at her hair.
‘Oh, yeah, I mean no. I did this at about three in the morning! How mad is that? I was wide awake. I thought I’d give it a go.’
‘Cool,’ Marty said. ‘Now I finally know what you’re on about!’
I noticed Melissa had also done something to her eyebrows. It looked like she’d over-plucked them and tried to dye them, though she had such a pale complexion she’d stained the skin beneath her fine hairs. This had the effect of making her eyebrows look tattooed on.
The boys started to talk about football, allowing me to talk quietly to Melissa.
‘I wonder why you couldn’t sleep, sweetheart? You were very tired last night.’
‘I know. I just woke up and – ping – my eyes snapped open and I was wide awake.’
‘OK. And how are you feeling now?’
‘I’m fine, thanks. I’m sorry about all that. Thanks for picking me up.’
‘I’m glad you’re safe, that’s the main thing. That’s what we care about. We want to look after you and make sure you are safe.’
‘I know. TJ looks after me, though. You don’t need to worry about him. All the boys look out for me. I’m a lucky girl. I have a lot of good friends.’
‘They all look out for you?’
‘Yeah. Have you got any chocolate cereal? And can I use the phone?’
‘No chocolate cereal but there’s plenty of others to choose from. Or I can do you some toast, or an egg?’
‘Just cereal thanks.’
While I fetched Melissa a bowl and spoon and filled up the jug of milk on the table I told her about the football tournament the boys were going to take part in that day.
‘We thought we could all go to the leisure centre together and go for a pizza afterwards. Would you like to do that?’
‘Yeah, sounds great.’
I was pleased about this. I really didn’t want to leave my mum with the responsibility of looking after Melissa on her own.
‘And can I see my friends afterwards?’
My heart tightened in my chest.
‘I don’t mean TJ, don’t worry. I’ve changed my mind about seeing him. I just want to go out with my mates from school.’
I asked her which friends she wanted to see, and she said Rosie and some other girls were going to the junior disco in the church hall. I would still have preferred her to stay in this evening. I reminded her that the last time she went out with Rosie she was nearly an hour late, and that this was not to happen again. She said that was different, because that time they were out with TJ and Des, but this time it would just be the girls, going to the junior disco. I reluctantly told her she was allowed to go, as long as she stuck to the plans, stayed with Rosie and was in by nine.
‘Cool!’ she said. ‘Thanks Angela. And yes, I won’t let you down.’
I can’t say I felt completely reassured: I don’t think it was possible not to worry about Melissa, whatever promises she made.
She was smiling when she sat at the tab
le with the boys and I was happy to hear her joining in their conversation about football. It turned out she was very knowledgeable about their favourite teams, which impressed them. Everybody was excited about the tournament and looking forward to going out for pizza. The atmosphere was good, and I allowed myself to enjoy the moment, and hope it would last.
‘Maybe this is the way forward?’ I whispered to Jonathan as we were all about to get in the car to drive to the leisure centre that afternoon. With all three children still in a good mood and getting along well, I was feeling in a positive frame of mind.
‘How d’you mean?’
‘Keep Melissa busy. Keep her so busy she has less time to think about boys and running off.’
‘It’s a good thought, but I’m afraid the only thing that would stop Melissa from running away would be to guard her day and night, and we can’t do that. I’m already dreading tonight, to be perfectly honest. Despite what she says I don’t think we can trust her an inch.’
However much I tried to look on the bright side I couldn’t argue with a word Jonathan said. I nodded, and a wave of fear washed over me. Jonathan was normally focused on allaying my concerns and he always tried to look at things positively. His gloomy state of mind showed just how demanding and worrying it was to look after Melissa.
Thankfully, we had a great afternoon; I think we all needed it. It had finally been decided that both boys would return to school the following Monday and Jonathan and I were pleased they had the chance to let off some steam and have fun before they returned to the classroom. As we had hoped, once a date was set for Marty to start at his new school, Ryan hadn’t taken long to decide he would go back to his old primary; he didn’t want to be left behind and he thought he’d be bored all day without Marty for company.
Happily, the boys were placed in the same team for the football tournament and got through to the semi-finals. Melissa was on the edge of her seat cheering them on, and Ryan and Marty were both awarded medals, which they wore with pride. Their faces were glowing and Melissa clapped and cheered and told them she thought they’d both played brilliantly.
