by John Moralee
I went over to the boy and tied a belt around his neck as a short leash. Then I untied his feet and told him to stand. I made him walk ahead of me out of the cave into the daylight. He would act as a human shield if the other children started throwing stones – but they didn’t. I couldn’t see any sign of them. It looked like they had gone – but I was wary. I didn’t think they’d leave their brother behind. I pushed him in the direction of the path, keeping a strong grip on the leash. I had a sharp bone as a weapon tucked into my bikini. I also had my phone, which I held up hoping to get a signal as I moved way from the cliff. As soon as I got a signal, I called 999 and prayed it would be answered.
A woman spoke and I blurted out what had happened. I told her my location and about Stephen, dead in the cave. “Please send the police here!”
The woman promised she would send the police just before the signal was lost. The battery was too weak to reconnect. I wasn’t sure I had told her everything she needed to find me. Had I said I was in Mulltawny Cove? In my haste I might have forgotten to say that. I decided I’d keep going to the path. I pushed the boy ahead of me. He strained against the leash – but a yank on it hurt his throat, so he stopped. I looked around for the others on my way across the sand and up to the path - fearing a sudden attack.
“Move!” I ordered.
We climbed the steep path up the side of the cliff. We were nearly at the top when a dark figure appeared above. I feared it was the other children blocking my escape, but it was a policeman. He was tall with a greying beard. There was something familiar about him. I’d seen him years ago after my sister disappeared. He had been at our house during the investigation into her disappearance.
“Are you all right?” he called down.
“Yes!” I shouted.
Just then I saw the girl and the little boy sneaking up on the policeman. They would push him off the path down onto the rocks below, killing him, if I didn’t warn him. “WATCH OUT! THEY’RE BEHIND YOU!”
The policeman didn’t react how I expected. He asked his question again, but this time I realised he wasn’t asking me if I was all right.
He was asking the boy.
“I’m okay, Dad.”
“You were careless, son.”
“Sorry, Dad.”
The boy pulled away from me. I was too shocked to stop him. He joined the policeman and the other children.
I’d always wondered why nobody had heard my sister being kidnapped because she had been told to never go off with a stranger, but she would have trusted a policeman.
He pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
For me.
John Moralee © 2012
Second Edition Revised 2014
