by Lucy Dawson
Dominic covers his mouth with his hand. ‘He fell?’
I swallow. ‘Or—’
‘Or what?… Kids of thirteen don’t kill themselves!’
A tear escapes down my face. ‘Of course they do! Don’t you watch the news?’
He looks at me, bewildered. ‘But Al wouldn’t do that. He was all right! I mean he was angry with me, but all teenagers hate their parents. Al is a softy. He’s gentle and kind…’ His voice starts to break and he shakes his head. ‘No. This is wrong. It isn’t what’s happened.’
He clears his throat. ‘I read online last night that when a kid goes missing and they’ve been abducted, it’s statistically probable that it’s someone he or she knows.’ He sits down opposite the police. ‘Just so we’re all clear, I’ve proven I was in aftercare all day, then at a restaurant where there was CCTV, right? You’ve checked that, obviously? And what about you two?’ He looks first at me, then Ewan. ‘You were here? Well, come on! Were you?’
‘Yes, we were here!’ I get a flashback to Ewan and I naked in bed, gasping and giggling, taking advantage of having the house entirely to ourselves. The guilt makes me feel hot with shame.
He stares at the items on the table, putting his head in his hands. ‘Now I’m freaking out that he’s hurt himself though, because why did he take his glasses off? He can’t see without them.’ He looks up. ‘People wanting to harm themselves usually happens quite quickly and by the time you’ve been told someone is missing,’ he nods at the police, ‘they’ve probably already done it, haven’t they? I read that too. Shit. Oh shit. I made him upset the last couple of times I saw him. This is my fault. This is all my fault.’
He jumps to his feet and walks over to the window. ‘I want to go and look for him. Can I?’ He turns back to the police. ‘Is there some way I can be involved in the search?’
‘A volunteer search team has already started up. They were out last night and this morning,’ the IO says.
‘Really?’ I whisper in disbelief. ‘We’ve only just moved here. That’s so kind.’
‘…and we do understand everyone wanting to help,’ the IO says, ‘particularly those closest to Alex.’ She hesitates. ‘Would you perhaps like to do a public appeal? We don’t always suggest TV, it’s not ideal to publicise a child’s age, name and photo in the media, but in this case, we think the pros outweigh the cons. We don’t know why Alex is missing, if it’s an accident, foul play or something else, but in some cases a public plea can result in tips or information that can help find the missing person. It gets the message out to as many people as possible. It would be good to do this nice and early while events are fresh in people’s minds. It tends to lead to information that’s more accurate; someone who might have been going about their daily life and witnessed something at the crucial moment.’
‘Of course we’ll do the appeal,’ I interrupt, looking to Ewan but then realising I should include Dom too.
‘Can we do it together?’ Dom suggests. ‘Present a united front, so Al knows he’s not in trouble if he sees it? Or maybe it should just be you, as I’ve upset him so much?’
‘No, I think you’re right. It should be both of us.’
‘Can I be in it?’ says a small voice from the doorway, and we all look up to see Cass standing there, her jumper sleeves pulled down over her hands and her pale face tear-stained. ‘I want to do something to help. I want him to come home.’ She wipes her eyes with her sleeves, and Ewan gets up immediately to hug her as she bursts into tears. I hope to God she didn’t just hear everything Dom said.
‘So to reiterate, while I’m not saying this applies to Alex, it can be really useful in cases where someone is being held against their will to use their name as much as possible while you speak.’ The police search advisor concludes her briefing. ‘It tells the abductor that you love and value Alex, forces them to see him as a person rather than a captive. It will also help humanise Alex to the public at large. We want this story to stay in the headlines. We want as much publicity as possible. So are you ready? Do you have any questions?’ She looks at us.
I shake my head. We’re led into a room with a white table and three chairs. On the other side are about twenty people with cameras. I’m clutching my piece of paper as we sit down, and I hear the Senior Investigating Officer accompanying us introduce me and ask me, in my own time, to begin.
I clear my throat. ‘Somebody knows what has happened to Alex. Someone watching now may know something vital and not even realise it.’ I can hear my own voice as I read the words on my sheet, only it feels like it’s coming from someone else, not me. ‘Please call the police with any information you might have – because we need Alex to come home. His sister misses him very much. She wants him to know she normally can’t sleep because of all the noise Al makes, but now it’s too quiet without him.’ I look up briefly to clicks and flashes going off. ‘Alex is really tall, so he might seem older than thirteen, but actually he’s young for his age. He’s kind, gentle and he’s at his happiest when he’s at home with all of us, just playing Fortnite. We need him to come home. He is very precious to us.’
I lift my gaze again and look right into the cameras. ‘Alex, if you can hear this now, please, please get in touch, sweetheart. It doesn’t have to be me… or Dad.’ I motion to Dom next to me. ‘Message anyone you feel you want to. Please just let me know you’re safe. You’re not in any trouble… but my heart is breaking not knowing where you are.’ My voice is getting higher and higher. ‘Just call me so that I can come and get you, please?’
I know that I’m crying, but I don’t realise I’ve reached desperately for Dom’s hand until he squeezes it back. I glance at him to see that he’s crying too. ‘I do also want to say thank you to everyone for their kindness,’ I remember to add, looking back down at my notes. ‘The police, the coastguard, the dog team, the helicopter team, the members of the public who we’ve been told are out looking for Alex, please don’t put yourselves at risk, but thank you – everyone is offering us so much support during this impossible time. Thank you for helping us find Alex… but if you’re watching and you know anything at all,’ I beg suddenly, looking up again at the cameras, not wanting to stop now I have my chance, ‘please help us.’
I’m in a closed cubicle, wiping vomit from my mouth with a tissue when I hear two women come into the ladies, chatting.
‘That poor woman looked like she was in the seventh circle of hell. I don’t know why they make them go through this shit.’
‘Because it makes the families feel like they’re doing something to help. They have to say they tried. I’d do it in their position – heaven forbid.’
‘But he’s so obviously drowned! Why give them that false sense of hope when the body is going to wash up in a couple of days’ time? I don’t get it.’
‘Because you never know… until you know – I guess. Are you filming the intro to your report outside, by the way?’
‘No. I’m done. I’m just putting this on because I look knackered. Too many late nights and eating Christmas crap. You go for it.’
‘Thanks. He looked so cute.’ She sighs. ‘Such a shame he’s not a girl.’
I burst out of the cubicle to catch them both redoing their make-up in the mirror. They freeze in horror at the sight of me, but I don’t care about their embarrassment.
‘Why do you say that? What do you mean it’s a shame he’s not a girl? Tell me, please!’
‘Because people respond better to missing girls than boys,’ the older of the two women, the one who thinks Al has drowned, says eventually. ‘There’s a misconception that boys were probably in some kind of trouble if they disappear, or that they can handle themselves better than girls. People basically just care more if it’s a girl in jeopardy. Young, female victims always get the most media attention.’
Wow. That’s when it pays to be female? It’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard.
‘You did a great job,’ the younger woman says earnestly. �
�I really hope they find Alex.’
‘Thank you.’ I bang out of the bathroom, shaking.
At least she remembers his name.
Once Dom and Sorcha have gone back to their hotel and the house is quiet, I am lying on my bed, staring out at the now-dark sky, when there is a creak of a floorboard and I turn my head to see Cass standing timidly in the doorway.
I hold out my arms and to my surprise she rushes into them, forcing me to sit up. She hasn’t let me hold her like this since Lise died.
‘I didn’t look after Al.’
‘It’s OK.’ I rock her and kiss her hair. ‘Alex is not your responsibility, and I’m so sorry that there have been times in the past when I made you feel like he was.’ I mentally curse every single careless drop-off at school in Surrey where I said to Cass quietly, ‘keep an eye on Alex for me?’
I let her cry some more. ‘Is Ben your boyfriend now?’ I stroke her hair. ‘It’s OK if he is.’
‘No!’ she says. ‘That’s the thing. I wanted to tell Ben that I think I do like him after all. That’s why I went to meet him when he asked if I wanted to go to Exmouth. I was going to ask Ben out, but his dad turned up at the marina before I had a chance and it all got really awkward. I should have just listened to you. I’m not going to speak to Ben ever again now though, I promise. I just want Al back. I heard what Dominic said about people hurting themselves.’
‘Dominic’s just frightened.’ I try to reassure her. ‘You say things you don’t mean when you’re scared.’
‘But Al is going to come home, isn’t he?’
I can’t lie to her any more than I could when Lise was ill. ‘I don’t know, sweetheart. I really, really hope so.’
She eventually falls asleep next to me, and as I allow my eyes to close for a moment, I become aware that I’m moving. Opening them again, I’m thrown to discover I’m actually on a trolley, being wheeled by two porters up a corridor. A woman in blue scrubs is walking alongside me, chatting away. I glance down at myself to see I’m in a hospital gown and tucked in by a blanket. I feel drowsy and confused. I’ve just had an operation? I lift my left hand up to try and block out the bright overhead lights and then I see it. The whole of the skin of my left hand is slipping up like an ill-fitting rubber glove, starting to float free having filled with water. It’s going to completely slough away from the flesh underneath. I reach out, horrified, with my right hand and try to pull it down – keep it over the stumps of my fingers – but as I let go it simply starts to drift away from my bloodied wrist again. I’m going to lose it. ‘My hand!’ I try to say to the woman. ‘They’ve forgotten to stich the skin where the edges meet!’ I nod at the separated cuff. It looks like the briny edge of a boiled ham.
She laughs. ‘No, they haven’t! It’s supposed to be like that!’
‘It’s not.’ I try to sit up, starting to panic. ‘It’s going to deglove. We need to tell someone, quickly!’ I start to grope about the bed with my good hand, for a buzzer to call someone, but I can’t find it! Someone has to help me! Why can’t she see what’s happening! I need my hand! I need—
I sit up with a gasp in my dark bedroom. Cass stirs in her sleep next to me. The doorbell is ringing downstairs. Feeling sick and shaky, I get to my feet while trying not to wake her. Squeezing my left hand into a fist and releasing, I hasten downstairs into the hall. Ewan is already opening the front door – to reveal Dom on the step again. I have to lean on the wall to steady myself, still disorientated.
‘Can I come in?’ he asks. ‘Mum has already gone to bed; she’s exhausted. I was hoping to see if they use the appeal on the news, but I don’t want to disturb her. Do you mind if I watch it with you, and then I’ll go again?’
Ewan puts the TV on and the headlines begin. We learn that a twenty-four-hour tube strike has begun. A ship in the North Sea has lost 270 containers in rough conditions, and then there am I, addressing the audience directly: ‘If you are watching and you know anything at all about where Alex is, please help us.’
‘Parents of a vulnerable teenager in Devon appeal for more information’, the news reader announces, ‘after their son goes walking on the cliffs near popular local beaches and is now missing…’
Thirty-Seven
Nathan
‘I can’t wrap my head around this.’ Storm sits forward on the sofa and stares at Julia’s face on the screen. ‘It’s hard enough when you see any parent going through it, but when it’s someone that you know.’ She shakes her head. ‘He’s fallen and drowned, hasn’t he? Or God – thrown himself off. Nate, I just see Ben…’ She reaches out and grabs my hand.
I don’t want to discuss Julia with Storm. I am fixated on the image in front of me; she looks devastated, tear-stained, frightened… in need. Storm squeezes me more tightly, stricken. ‘I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that, about him drowning. You know that there was nothing you could have done, don’t you? It’s not your fault. I expect you’re thinking if you’d just got to the boat ten minutes earlier… but life doesn’t work like that, my darling.’
My darling? Wow. ‘You’re right. I could have just driven all three of them home, then none of this would be happening…’ I take my hand back. ‘I’d like to go and see Julia quickly, if that’s OK? Not because there’s anything going on between us, but I really do feel I owe her an apology for not being there sooner, when I could have prevented all of this.’ I want to see her. I need to. I hadn’t planned to, but it feels right. I can build the momentum a bit; promise her I will stop at nothing until I find her son.
‘It’s ten o’clock at night, Nate! Wait until the morning.’
‘I don’t think she’s going to be asleep, do you?’
Storm flushes. ‘Perhaps not, but you probably shouldn’t drive anyway?’ She nods at my empty whisky glass on the side table under the lamp.
‘I’m fine.’ I wave dismissively. ‘I’ve hardly had anything. I’m going to be twenty minutes. I simply want to say sorry and let her know if there’s anything we can do to help, we will.’
I hurry out into the hall to get my coat. Ben is sitting on the stairs, picking at his nails anxiously.
‘You all right?’ I pull the sitting room door to. ‘I thought you’d gone to bed?’
‘I just heard you say to Mum you’re going out?’ he whispers. ‘When are we leaving to get Alex?’
I put my finger to my lips. ‘Later tonight. I’ll come and wake you up when it’s time to go, OK?’
He looks visibly relieved. ‘OK. Should I sleep in my clothes to make things quicker?’
I pretend to consider that. ‘No. I think we’ll have time for you to get dressed. Go back up to bed now. Stand by for hero rescue.’ I wink at him, and he allows himself a small smile before disappearing off upstairs. My own smile fades and I reach for my coat, pulling it on with urgency.
I could feel her pain and fragility reaching out to me through the screen. I take a deep breath. This is it; the moment where I turn everything around.
Thirty-Eight
Julia
‘This is so surreal,’ Dominic whispers as the full news report begins; a still of Alex, smiling happily on Christmas Day, then shots of the cliffs and a helicopter flying over the sea, the lifeboat launching. They cut to footage of what must be this morning’s search, dog teams on foot in the daylight and local people out looking, in amongst whom I clearly see Nathan, Tan – and Hamish, struggling to keep up at the rear in his flat cap and wax jacket, as they stride through fields calling, but just as he said he would be, he’s there, looking for my son. I jump with shock as the front door bell chimes again. This time news, surely?
‘Oh God. They’ve found him…’ Dom takes a deep gulp of air – like he’s sticking his head above water – then moans and clutches at his chest, bending forward as Ewan rushes past us to get the door.
‘Dominic? Are you OK? Sit down,’ I order, taking his free hand to steady him. ‘Are you in pain?’
‘I’m fine,’ he gasps.
‘It’s just the shock and the fear. It’s just…’
Ewan comes back in. ‘It’s not the police. It’s Nathan Sloan for you, Julia. Says he wants a quick word.’ He looks at Dom in alarm. ‘What’s happened?’
‘He’s all right, he just needs a moment to steady himself.’ I move towards the door. ‘Can you stay with him while I speak to Nathan?’
‘I’d rather come with you,’ Ewan says. ‘Can you hang on and wait for me?’
‘I’ll be OK, just keep an eye on him.’ I motion at Dominic, lying on the sofa.
Nathan is huddled on the doorstep in the rain, hands in his overcoat pockets, collar up. ‘Come in,’ I offer automatically, and he accepts, shivering as he steps into the hall.
‘Thank you. That’s kind. How are you bearing up?’
‘So, so, thanks.’ I can’t bring myself to say more than that. ‘But on the subject of being kind, I just saw you on the news with Tan and Hamish, searching for Alex. Given the circumstances, that’s decent of you and I’m very grateful.’
‘It was the least I could do.’ He scans my face, concerned. ‘You’re going through hell. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to say, any help we can offer you – have Cass over or something like that – just let us know.’ He reaches out and briefly squeezes my arm. His touch returns me to standing outside the school on the last day of term when he wouldn’t let go of me and our children were watching… I don’t want to have to think about that now. I have no room in my head for anything that isn’t Alex.
‘You know what, Nathan, I would ask you to come in properly, but we’re all a bit…’ I move instinctively to the door and open it again. ‘Thank you for coming and it’s appreciated but… I’m sorry, I hope you understand.’
