Then He Was Gone

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Then He Was Gone Page 1

by Stephen Edger




  THEN HE WAS GONE

  STEPHEN EDGER

  ONE

  DAY ONE

  Becky Townsend scanned the aisle of toiletries from top to bottom. ‘Noah?’

  Where was he?

  She’d never seen Noah’s mum look so terrified. ‘He can’t have wandered far, Jules. We just need to search for him.’

  Julia nodded frantically, though her watery eyes told a different story. ‘But the shop is so big…he could be anywhere.’

  ‘He’s only three, Jules, he can’t have wandered far. We just need to search the nearest aisles. Okay? You go left, I’ll go right, and we’ll meet back here in a minute.’

  Julia’s lips trembled as she nodded again.

  ‘Try not to worry. We’ll find him.’ But as Becky hurried to the rear of the store, and headed back the way they’d come, she wasn’t sure she believed her own words.

  He’d been waiting by the trolley while they’d searched for paracetamol. One second he was there, and when they turned back, he was gone. Like a magic trick, but so much crueller.

  They should have forced him to sit in the trolley. Becky had suggested it, hadn’t she? She couldn’t remember for certain, but Julia had been so confident that Noah would hold on to the trolley while they made their way around the large hypermarket. After all, there were two of them to watch him. Even if one looked away, the other would see.

  But they’d both looked away searching the display of painkillers. The trouble was the French packets and brands looked so different to what they were used to seeing back in the UK. Becky had thought Julia was watching him, but when they’d finally found the packet, he wasn’t where they’d left him.

  Where was he?

  She stopped at the end of every aisle, frantically looking along each one, searching for his head of brown curls. But each one only brought disappointment.

  She continued to call his name as she stalked the shop floor. If only she could remember any of the French she’d been forced to study for four years in secondary school, but she couldn’t even remember how to order a milky coffee.

  Two adolescents emerged from the end of the toys and game aisle, jabbering away. Becky reached out to them. ‘Excusez-moi…avez-vous…uh…have you seen a little boy? He’s about so big…with brown curly hair.’

  Their blank expressions told her they had no idea what she was saying. She ploughed past them, this time forging along the aisle, in case he’d headed out of the other end. But there was no sign of him. She headed back toward the toiletries.

  Julia had to have found him if he’d gone the other way.

  Becky increased her pace, slowing at the end of each aisle for a quick look, but she was back at the toiletries in no time. She felt a dull ache when she saw a frantic Julia by their trolley with no sign of Noah.

  Becky rushed to her side. ‘It isn’t time to panic yet. I think you should wait here while I go aisle by aisle. He’s probably just as worried as we are. If he remembers this is where we last were, he’s bound to come back here, right? If we’re not here, he’ll only get more anxious and start searching for us, so I think you should stay here.’

  ‘But what if we don’t find him? What if someone has -’

  ‘No! You can’t think like that.’

  ‘But you hear stories about predators plucking children from -’

  ‘No, Jules! Don’t go there. Not yet. He’s in here somewhere. I know it’s big, but to him, it’s even bigger. He’s probably found the aisle with all the sweets and biscuits and he’s busy choosing what snack he wants. Just wait for him here.’

  She passed Julia a tissue, before heading back to the top of the aisle. As soon as she was out of view, she stopped, leaning against a shelf and sucking in air. She felt winded, like some invisible force had struck her.

  She had to remain calm. She needed to be strong for Julia.

  Becky took another deep breath, and then pushed herself back up, a new wave of determination taking hold. She studied the next lane, shifting from one foot to the other to see past the other shoppers. Definitely no little boy with dark curly hair. She moved to the next aisle, again performing a small dance so that she could inspect right to the end of the aisle, but still no sign of him.

  She tried to relax the tension in her shoulders; every aisle was a step closer to finding him.

  The next four aisles proved unsuccessful, and Becky then found herself in the fresh produce area. Cabinets of fruit and vegetables stretched as far as she could see. He could have been crouching beside any of them.

  She rushed frantically from one section to the next, but it was no use, he wasn’t anywhere. She proceeded to the next aisle and, at the far end, she saw a woman in a yellow coat dragging the arm of a boy just out of sight.

  It was too difficult to tell if it was Noah. She’d only caught a glimpse of the boy. He was the right height, but she hadn’t registered what he was wearing.

  She froze. What if the woman had found him at the sweets, saw he was alone and decided to snatch him?

  As implausible as it sounded in her head, she couldn’t risk the possibility. As a solicitor, she’d read enough about abduction cases to understand that more often than not, the seizure was opportunistic rather than well thought out.

  Becky pressed on, running along the polished floor as quickly as her flip flops would allow. She nearly slipped over, but just about maintained her balance, before swinging out and to the left where the woman’s coat had been. But all she saw were shoppers, oblivious to her terror. The yellow coat was nowhere in sight.

  Becky began moving from lane to lane again, this time hunting for the yellow coat, more so than Noah’s head.

  Becky was certain the woman had turned to the left, but it was like she’d disappeared through a hidden trapdoor.

  And then she spotted her. Still dragging the reluctant boy by the arm, heading for the shop exit. The boy was in a cagoule, but his shorts were cream-coloured, like Noah’s. She couldn’t see the colour of his hair beneath the red baseball cap he was now wearing.

  If she was trying to snatch him in broad daylight, it would make sense to disguise his clothing.

  Becky breathed heavily, as she quickened her pace, heading for the exit. The woman was already through the security barriers and heading out into the Cité Europe shopping centre.

  TWO

  Becky was out of breath, as she reached the escalator down to the ground floor of the shopping centre. The woman in the yellow coat was just about to step off. Becky pushed past standees, ignoring their groans and tuts as she raced unsteadily to the bottom. She spotted the woman again, now heading towards the toilets.

  ‘Stop!’ Becky shouted. ‘Arrête!’

  The woman ignored her, and continued dragging Noah towards the ladies toilets.

  Becky was only yards behind as they entered the bathroom. She grabbed the woman’s shoulder, just as she was pushing the boy into a cubicle.

  The woman in yellow turned, angry that somebody dared to interfere.

  Becky had no idea how to accuse the woman of abduction in native French. She tried to compose her breathing, before pointing an accusatory finger at the boy and shouting. ‘That’s my Godson.’

  The woman must have understood her, as she turned and stared down at the boy. ‘Quoi?’

  Becky was about to repeat the accusation, when she too looked at the boy. The terrified youngster was older than Noah, and the curly hair poking out beneath the baseball cap was lighter in colour. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

  The woman in yellow jabbered something in French, but Becky understood the gist. She backed out of the cubicle and allowed the woman to deal with her errant son. Becky looked in the mirror above the sink; her face was red and puffy; a
mixture of fatigue and embarrassment. Her blonde hair was straggly with sweat, and the hairband was barely containing her ponytail. She disregarded the disapproving reflections of the three other women in the room. She turned and headed back towards the escalator.

  At the top, she rushed back into the hypermarket.

  She had to find him.

  She made her way to the gadgets section at the front of the store. Noah had been looking at the large television screens when they’d first arrived. She searched left and right, high and low, but there was no sign. She overheard a couple of English voices, deep in conversation.

  She rushed over to the elderly couple. ‘Excuse me. You’re English?’

  The silver heads bobbed up and down.

  ‘Have you seen a young boy wandering around here? He’s only three and has thick dark curly hair.’

  The woman looked at her husband, before both shook their heads.

  ‘Can you keep a look out for him? He wandered off and won’t know where to find his mum and me.’

  The couple nodded, and watched as Becky moved on to the book section.

  But he wasn’t there either. The anxious voice in her head had already told her he wouldn’t be. She couldn’t stop herself calling out his name. ‘Noah?’ She didn’t recognise the sound of her own voice. It was shrill. She called out again, this time, trying to sound more confident.

  She continued to stalk from aisle to aisle, until she found herself back at the toiletries. Her heart beat rapidly, as she turned the corner, desperately praying that she would see Julia tightly hugging Noah. Julia was facing away, but was alone. Becky was going to sneak on to the next aisle, desperate not to admit failure to her friend. But Julia turned and saw her. Time seemed to slow as Becky watched Julia’s look of hope swiftly sink into one of despair. Julia fell to her knees and wailed.

  Becky ran over, and crouched beside her. ‘We’ll find him. Don’t worry.’

  Julia sobbed. ‘Where…is…my…son?’

  Becky couldn’t bring herself to tell Julia about the woman in the yellow coat she’d chased into the toilets.

  She gasped. ‘Julia, I just had a thought: maybe he went to the toilet. I saw some near the entrance when we came in. Maybe he’s there, and doesn’t know how to find his way back.’

  Julia nodded rapidly. That had to be it. That had to be why they hadn’t found him in the store. They clambered to their feet, abandoned the trolley, and ran towards the toilet signs. There was a door to the men’s, a door to the ladies’, and then a door for a wheelchair-friendly toilet, which was occupied.

  Becky had never seen Julia so distraught. ‘I’ll check the men’s and the ladies’, while you wait here, in case he comes out of one while I’m in the other.’

  Julia nodded, without really hearing what Becky had said.

  The bathroom had three urinals hanging from the wall opposite three sinks, as well as a single cubicle at the back. The cubicle was closed, and, as the bathroom was otherwise empty, Becky knelt and looked through the gap between the floor and the cubicle door. The last thing she wanted to do was try and explain in French why she was disturbing whoever was inside. She counted two corduroy-covered legs.

  It wasn’t Noah.

  She pushed herself up off the floor, and grimaced at the stickiness of her fingers. She quickly washed her hands at the sink, and left the room. Julia was biting her nails as Becky breezed past towards the ladies’ toilets. This room had four cubicles, but two were empty. Becky once again fell to the floor, hoping to see a child’s legs hanging down, but she was disappointed again. She washed her hands once more, and re-joined Julia.

  Julia pointed at the door excitedly. ‘You see this? The toilet has baby change facilities. Whenever Noah and I are out, I always take him into the toilets with these facilities.’

  Becky frowned.

  ‘Don’t judge me now, Bex. They’re always bigger rooms, and it means I can use the toilet and still know he’s by my side. Anyway, if he needed the toilet, I’m certain this is the one he’d aim for. Whoever is inside hasn’t come out yet. It’s got to be him, right?’

  ‘Have you tried knocking on the door, or calling out his name?’

  ‘Not yet. Do you think we should?’

  Becky knocked on the door. ‘Noah? Are you inside?’

  There was no answer.

  She knocked harder. ‘Noah?’

  Still no answer.

  Julia was shaking. ‘What now?’

  ‘I guess we wait for him to come out, or we try and find someone who can open -’

  The metal latch unlocked from inside. The door handle lowered, and the door began to open. An old man in a wheelchair rolled out, and fired confused looks at the two women staring wide-eyed back at him. Becky stepped aside, and allowed him to pass.

  Julia was biting her nails again. ‘Oh God, Bex, what if someone’s taken him? What if I never see him again?’

  ‘Look, over there by the barriers. There are security guards. They’ll be able to tell us if Noah came past, or they’ll at least be able to help us look for him.’

  Becky grabbed Julia’s hand and pulled her in the direction of the store’s main entrance. For the first time, she too was beginning to wonder if they would ever see Noah again.

  THREE

  Becky forced herself to smile at the tall, black security guard, who looked more like a young boxer than a watchman. ‘Parlez-vous anglais?’ If it wasn’t for his sky blue guard’s shirt, she wouldn’t have known he was part of the staff.

  He smiled back but shook his head. ‘Non. Desolé.’

  Julia was clinging to her arm, desperate for anyone to make the nightmare end. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He doesn’t speak English. Right, what do I need to say -’

  ‘Ask him if he’s seen a little boy.’

  ‘Jules, just give me a second. I need to try and think about how to say it in French. It’s been twenty-odd years since I studied it at school.’

  Becky closed her eyes and tried to conjugate the sentence. ‘Uh…Je cherche un enfant…’ She looked at the guard to see if he was following what she was trying to say. He was staring blankly at her. ‘Uh…avez-vous vu son fils? Jules, have you got a photo of Noah we can show him?’

  Julia fumbled with her phone until she found a picture of Noah. She stared at it for a moment. It was a picture of him eating ice cream earlier. He’d managed to get it up his nose, and all over his cheeks. She reluctantly handed the phone to Becky who showed it to the guard.

  ‘Uh…son fils…was…oh God, what’s the word for was…he was looking for toys…les jouets? Tu comprends?’

  How had she managed to forget all the French she’d learned for three years?

  The guard furrowed his brow, and looked around. He glanced back at Becky, and said something she didn’t follow. She heard him mention ‘jouets’ and nodded rapidly. ‘Oui, les jouets. We think he may have gone to the toys.’

  He pointed at the phone. ‘Pour lui?’

  ‘Yes. You’ve seen him? You know where he is?’

  The guard was smiling, relieved that the communication bridge had been built; albeit a rather shaky and unstable one.

  He started to move forward before ushering them to follow him.

  Julia squeezed Becky’s arm. ‘He knows where Noah is? He’s taking us to Noah?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. I couldn’t quite follow what he said, but I think that’s what it was. I told you he couldn’t have gone far. Maybe someone noticed that he was alone and stayed with him. That must be where the other guards are. There were three of them when we first arrived. They’re probably looking for us.’ She patted Julia’s hand for good measure.

  The guard headed deeper into the store, pausing every now and then to check that they were still following. He led them past the electricals and books, and down towards the toys.

  ‘There you go,’ Becky reassured. ‘I said he’d probably wandered off to the toys.’

  The guard suddenly stopped and w
aved his arms around in a circle.

  Julia looked at Becky. ‘I don’t understand. Where is he? Where’s Noah? Ask him where Noah is.’

  The guard was smiling triumphantly. ‘Les jouets pour un fils.’

  Becky’s heart sank. He’d brought them to the toy department, thinking they were looking to buy a present for Noah. How could she break it to Julia?

  The guard was eager to return to his station. Becky grabbed his arm. ‘Excusez-moi. Non…je cherche pour son fils…we’ve lost her son…he’s here somewhere…please…you must understand what I’m saying.’ She paused when she realised speaking English with a French accent was not helping get the message across. ‘Avez-vous un…what’s the word for colleague…un autre qui parle anglais? You have a colleague…another staff member who speaks English?’

  He looked confused at first, but then snapped his fingers and moved off again, waving for them to follow once more.

  ‘Where’s he taking us now?’ Julia asked.

  ‘I have no idea. I asked him to take us to someone who speaks English.’

  ‘Why did he bring us to the toys? I thought you said he knew where Noah was?’

  Becky shrugged. ‘I’m sorry…we need to find someone we can talk to. They must have security cameras in a place this size. If we can find someone who speaks English, maybe they can check the footage and we can trace where he went.’

  ‘Oh God, Bex. What if someone’s taken him? You read about these things in the papers: children abducted while on holiday. Just look at what happened to the McGanns.’

  ‘That was different, Jules. They left their daughter at home for hours while they went out for dinner. We turned our backs for only a moment. You can’t compare that situation to this one.’

  ‘Why not? I never should have taken my eyes off him. What have I done? I’m a terrible mother.’

  Becky stopped, and put her hands on Julia’s arms. ‘Listen to me: you are not a bad mother. You have been through hell this year, losing Adie, and your home, but you’ve held it together for that little one. You’ve been two parents to him, and he is so lucky to have you. I know I wouldn’t have coped as well as you.’

 

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