‘Can’t help you, love,’ she said. ‘Not seen her.’
Julia nodded thanks and left. She was glad to emerge into the sunshine. Next door was a bakery specializing in local dairy products and artisan breads. On the other side, a café.
‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘I’m looking for a little girl. My daughter.’
The man behind the counter raised an eyebrow. He had dark, curly hair and dark eyes, and huge, flour-dusted hands.
‘What does she look like?’ he asked, in a Scottish accent.
Julia told him. He shook his head, then leaned over the counter, addressing the café side of the building.
‘’Scuse me,’ he said. ‘This lady’s looking for a wee lass. Her bairn. Anyone seen a girl on her own?’
No one had, but one lady got to her feet.
‘I’ll help you look,’ she said.
Others joined her, and the patrons of the café spilled onto the main street of the village. They organized themselves and headed in different directions.
Julia looked around for somewhere else to search. A river ran through the bottom part of the village, and, where it disappeared into a copse, there was a small depression where the council had once put a few benches. It wasn’t obvious why; it was damp and dark and only occasionally occupied, at least during the daytime. The beer cans and cigarette butts that littered it suggested that it saw more action in the evening. It was just the kind of place teenagers would have been drawn to: a bit off to the side, away from the action, the fast-flowing river beside it conferring a hint of danger and exoticism.
Julia crossed the road and walked towards the railings at the edge. She didn’t think Anna would be there, and she wasn’t, but she leaned over the railings and looked down at the water anyway. The river had been artificially narrowed and the water sped up before disappearing into a tunnel under the main road. There was a damp crisp packet by her right foot. She kicked it and it fluttered down into the water, then was swept away.
If that had been Anna, she thought, then stopped herself. She wouldn’t have come down here. She just wouldn’t. She wouldn’t have got this far, not on her own. She wouldn’t have dared. She must be closer to the school.
She headed back to the main road. As she reached the pavement, her phone rang. It was Brian.
‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘Have you found her?’
‘I’m in the village. And no. Where are you?’
‘I’m just arriving at the school. The police are already here, it looks like.’
‘Do you see Anna? Is she with them?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘She isn’t.’
‘What should I do, Brian? Should I keep looking down here?’
There was a long pause. ‘I don’t know. We need to talk. I’ll come down to the village and pick you up.’
She stood on the pavement. It was cobbled, and she could feel the hard curves of the stones through the thin soles of her shoes. It was the only thing that felt solid; the shops and cars and people that surrounded her seemed slippery, ungraspable, unreal.
‘Anna,’ she shouted. ‘Anna!’ It was as much a wail of loss as a call that she expected an answer to; she realized when she tasted the tears on her lips that she was crying.
Her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number.
‘Mrs Crowne?’ a voice said. ‘This is Jo Scott. I was wondering whether you were still coming?’
For a moment, Julia could not work out who the woman was, then she remembered. The dog woman. The woman with Bella, Anna’s puppy.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. Something came up. Can I call you back?’
There was a pause. An irritated pause, Julia thought.
‘Ok,’ the woman said. ‘Call me back. But I have to leave for work now, so it’ll have to be another day for the puppy.’
As Julia hung up a car pulled up next to her. It was Brian.
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Get in. The police are at the school and they want to talk to you.’
iv.
They pulled up at the school and got out of the car. As they walked towards the door, Julia reached out for Brian’s hand. It was a while since they’d touched in any but the most perfunctory way and she was surprised how much reassurance it gave her, how much she needed to feel another human being.
She squeezed his fingers.
He looked at her, eyes narrowed, and pulled his hand away.
‘Brian,’ she said. ‘Please.’
‘Now’s not the time,’ he said. ‘You need to talk to the cops.’
Mrs Jacobsen, the headmistress, approached them. She was accompanied by a uniformed officer. He nodded at Julia. He had a bustling, efficient presence. At the far end of the corridor another officer was talking to a woman in jeans and a sweatshirt.
‘Mrs Crowne,’ he said. ‘I’m PC Davis. We received a report that your daughter is missing?’
‘Yes,’ Julia said. The presence of the police officer was as disturbing as it was reassuring. If the police were here, then this was real. She felt her legs weaken. ‘I don’t know where she is. Help me find her. Please.’
PC Davis nodded. ‘We will, Mrs Crowne. I’m sure that she’s close by. That’s normally the case in these situations. There are quite a few members of the school staff out looking for her,’ he said. ‘Now, you were in the village?’
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Anna – there’s a sweet shop she likes, that we sometimes go to after school. I thought she might be there.’
‘Is there any reason you thought she might have gone there?’ PC Davis asked. ‘Has she done this before? Walked away from the house, or the school?’
‘No,’ Julia said. ‘Never. She knows not to.’
PC Davis nodded again. ‘Have you traced the route back to your house?’ he said. ‘Often when a child is missing from school they have simply gone home alone.’
‘She wouldn’t have done that,’ Julia said. ‘We live three miles away. I doubt she even knows the way.’
‘Maybe not,’ PC Davis said. ‘But children sometimes decide that they are ready for something when we don’t expect it. We need to check the route to your house.’
‘No,’ Julia said. She knew Anna, and she did not think for a second that she was merrily strolling home on her own. ‘I don’t want to waste time.’
‘Mrs Crowne,’ PC Davis said. ‘We need to check whether Anna left on her own. I understand your concern, but we have to be systematic in our approach. Could you give me your address?’
‘Of course,’ Brian said. He gave the address.
‘Thank you,’ PC Davis said. ‘We’ll send a car to drive the route.’
‘What else are you going to do?’ Julia asked. ‘Anna could be hurt, or in danger.’
‘We’re going to do everything we can, Mrs Crowne,’ PC Davis said. ‘But we have to take this one step at a time.’
Julia stared at him. She didn’t like him, this burly officer who thought of this as a process, as a problem that could be solved with a step by step approach, when it was her daughter, her only child, who was five-years-old and missing, now for almost forty minutes.
Forty minutes. Yes, she might be on the route home, or playing in a local park, but what if she wasn’t? What if someone had taken her? She could be forty miles away by now.
‘What can we do?’ Julia said. ‘How can we help?’
‘Call around,’ PC Davis replied. ‘Anyone you can think of. Anna’s friends’ mothers, relatives. Anyone who might have picked her up. Think if there’s anywhere else she might be? Does anyone else ever pick her up? A relative maybe?’
‘Her grandma, on Mondays and Wednesdays,’ Julia said.
‘Is there any possibility she came today, by mistake?’
‘No,’ Brian said. ‘I spoke to my mother about two p.m.. She was at home. The kitchen was flooded.’
‘Anyone else?’ PC Davis asked.
‘No,’ Julia said. ‘Only myself or Brian or Edna pick her up, and she knows not to go with strangers.’
‘Could another parent have seen her alone and taken her home? Maybe tried to call you?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Julia looked at her phone. ‘There are no missed calls.’
‘It is possible, though,’ PC Davis said. ‘Who would be the most likely to do something like that?’
Julia looked down. Her shoes were scuffed from the search in the village. ‘Perhaps Dawn Swift’s mum, Gemma. Or maybe Sheila Parks.’
‘Could you call and ask them?’
Julia nodded and found Gemma Swift’s number on her phone. Gemma picked up on the second ring.
‘Hi Julia,’ Gemma said. ‘How’s it going?’
She hesitated for a moment, hoping that Gemma would fill the gap with a declaration that Anna was with her and she hoped Julia didn’t mind but she’d brought her home when she saw she was alone at the school and she’d meant to call but the girls wanted a snack and then the dog had to be fed, and you know how things can get away from you.
‘Are you there, Julia?’ Gemma said.
‘Yes. Gemma, did you happen to see Anna at school today?’
‘No. Why?’
‘I was late. And when I got here she was gone.’
‘What do you mean, gone?’
‘She wasn’t at the school. I can’t find her.’
‘Oh my God.’ The horror in Gemma’s voice was like a sudden blow to the stomach. It crystallized everything that was bad about this situation into one moment, and it left Julia short of breath.
This is real now, she thought. This is the real thing.
‘Jules,’ Gemma said. ‘Can I help?’
‘I don’t think so. The police are here.’
‘I’ll call round some people,’ she said. ‘The more people looking the better.’
Julia was suddenly sick of this conversation, sick of everything it meant.
‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘Thanks Gemma.’
‘Could you call the other person you mentioned?’ PC Davis said. ‘And anyone else that springs to mind. In the meantime, I’m going to radio in for some more officers.’
Julia nodded. Mrs Jacobsen gestured towards her office.
‘You can go in there,’ she said. ‘Have some privacy.’
Fifteen minutes later the door to Mrs Jacobsen’s office opened. PC Davis came in. He had the false smile of someone who had bad news but wanted to be reassuring.
‘We did not find Anna on the way to your house,’ he said. He paused, ‘so we have to consider the possibility that she’s a little further afield.’
Julia reached for Brian’s hand again. This time he took it.
‘What does that mean?’ Julia asked. ‘Where’s Anna? Where’s my daughter?’
PC Davis shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot.
‘My colleague will be here shortly,’ he said. ‘She’ll have more information.’
v.
Twenty minutes later a woman in a dark suit came into the headmistress’s office. She was in her late thirties and had a confident bearing, the kind that comes with many years of taking control of situations. Don’t worry, everything about her was saying. I can fix whatever’s wrong here.
‘Mrs Crowne?’ she said. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Wynne.’
Detective Inspector Wynne had short blonde hair, blue eyes, and an unsmiling expression. Her eyes were steady and intense, but she looked tired; there was a puffiness to the dark circles around her eyes that suggested lack of sleep or too much booze, or both.
Her demeanour was calm and professional, but to Julia it looked as though DI Wynne took her job too personally for her own good. Not that Julia cared: she wanted DI Wynne to feel like finding Anna was the most important thing in her life.
The detective looked at Julia, then at Brian, then back at Julia. Her expression softened. ‘Mr and Mrs Crowne, I understand that you are worried – more than worried, I’m a mother myself – but try not to be. The vast majority of the time we find the child and everything is ok. And trust me, we will do everything we can to find her.’
‘Thank you,’ Julia said, feeling no calmer at all. ‘So what’s next?’
‘Perhaps you can take me through what happened. Step by step, if you could. As much detail as you can remember.’
‘There’s not much I can tell you,’ Julia said. ‘I arrived here around three thirty—’
‘Late,’ Brian said. ‘School finishes at three.’
‘I was late,’ Julia admitted. ‘But I thought she’d be here!’
‘That’s ok, Mrs Crowne. Just the facts for now, please. Did the school know you would be late?’
‘No! I was stuck in a meeting and my phone was dead and I couldn’t call them.’
‘In a meeting?’ DI Wynne said.
‘I’m a solicitor. Custody cases, mainly.’
‘I see. Well, it’s a busy job. So when you got here, there was no sign of Anna?’
Julia explained what she had done, how she had guessed that Anna would be in The Village Sweete Shoppe and gone down there, how she had asked some people for help, how she had searched the village until Brian called. When she was finished, DI Wynne nodded and chewed her lip thoughtfully.
She turned to the headmistress. ‘Mrs Jacobsen, I’ll need a list of all the parents and children who were at the school today, as well as all the employees of the school, whether they were here or not.’
Mrs Jacobsen nodded. ‘It’s not only parents who pick up the pupils,’ she said. ‘But we have a register of all those who are permitted to do so. I can let you have it.’
‘Do you have CCTV inside the school?’
Mrs Jacobsen’s mouth tightened into a slight moue. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We do. Much as I prefer the promotion of civil liberties – we aim to produce responsible citizens who do the right thing because it is the right thing to do, and not because they think they are being observed – we have bent to the general panic about these matters and have installed CCTV.’
‘You must be glad you did, now,’ DI Wynne said. ‘And there might be something else in the area we can use. Could you make sure that the officers get access to the CCTV?’
‘Of course,’ Mrs Jacobsen said. ‘Right away.’
‘I have a question,’ Brian said, turning to the headmistress, his face a dark red. ‘How the hell did this happen? I thought the teachers did not let children out of the grounds unless they knew there was a parent there?’
That was right, Julia thought. The school had a pick-up policy and it was strictly adhered to. Only parents or designated carers could pick up children, although they were not allowed on the school grounds; the pupils were accompanied to the school gates and handed over to their responsible adults. In the case of an adult being late, they were to notify the school, and that pupil stayed inside. If, as Julia had done, the adult failed to notify the school, then the child would be ok: they would be left at the gates with a teacher, and brought inside to wait.
But it hadn’t worked this time.
‘I’ve spoken to the teachers,’ Mrs Jacobsen said. ‘They said that they thought you were there, Mrs Crowne. They expected you to be there since you had not called to say you would not be.’
‘She wasn’t there, though, was she!’ Brian said. ‘And you were supposed to take care of my daughter! That’s what we pay your obscene school fees for!’
‘Mr Crowne,’ the headmistress said. ‘The school adhered to its policies. I am sure the CCTV will show that. We do everything we can to ensure the safety—’
‘But not enough!’ Brian shouted.
‘We have policies in place that have been independently reviewed and which are in accordance with all necessary legislation,’ Mrs Jacobsen said. ‘And I am, of course, open to any questions you and Julia might have, but I’m not sure that now is the best time to discuss them.’
‘Fine,’ Julia said. ‘We can discuss it later.’ She glanced at DI Wynne. ‘For now we need to concentrate on finding Anna.’
‘Precisely,’ DI Wynne said. ‘If you could get me the CCTV and the personnel list, that would be a start.’ She turned to Julia and Brian. ‘I’d like a recent photo of Anna, as well. So that we can alert other constabularies and the border control folks.’
‘You think that’s necessary?’ Brian asked. ‘You think she might be being taken out of the country?’
‘I wouldn’t jump to conclusions,’ DI Wynne said. ‘But it’s a precaution worth taking.’
‘God,’ Brian said. He covered his eyes with his hand. ‘This can’t be happening. It just can’t. Not again. I can’t believe it’s happening again.’
vi.
Detective Inspector Wynne stared at Brian.
‘Again?’ she said. Her calm expression was suddenly more urgent. ‘You’ve had a child disappear before?’
Brian shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not a child. My father. He left home when I was in my early twenties. He vanished. Didn’t leave a note; nothing. Just went.’
‘Have you heard from him since?’ DI Wynne asked.
‘No.’ Brian looked at his hands. He picked at the cuticle of his left index finger. ‘Not a word. Not even a Christmas card.’
‘And you don’t know where he is? He just disappeared?’ DI Wynne pressed.
‘Yep.’ Brian shrugged. ‘It was during the school holidays. Dad was a headmaster. He was nearing retirement. One day he was there, and the next he wasn’t.’
‘And you don’t know why? Or where he went?’
‘No. No idea.’
Julia knew that Brian was not quite telling the truth. Yes, he had no idea where his father was, but he did have some idea of why he had gone there. He had told her once – and made her swear that she would not ever tell Edna that he had discussed it with her – that he suspected his headmaster father had been having an affair with a younger member of staff and had run away with her. He wasn’t sure – his mother never talked about it – but he had managed to piece that much together over the years.
Still, he had no idea where his dad had gone, nor why he had never got in touch with him.
Julia had an idea. Not of where he was, but of why he hadn’t been in touch. She suspected it was the price he paid for his freedom: Jim had an affair and Edna gave him an ultimatum: get out of her life and start again with his girlfriend somewhere far from her, and she’d let him go quietly. Let him avoid the disgrace. The catch was that he had to stay away, from both her and Brian.
Or he could stick around and she’d make his life a misery. And Edna would be good at that.
So off he’d gone, probably to some beach in Spain or chalet in Switzerland, where he spent his days hiking and reading and skiing while his young bride taught in an international school and had discreet affairs of her own.
Maybe, anyway. Julia didn’t know for sure. All she knew was that it had hit Brian hard, and now, from his point of view, it was happening again.
‘We’ll want to get in touch with him,’ DI Wynne said. ‘Any information you have would be most helpful.’
‘I don’t have any,’ Brian said. ‘I can ask mum.’
‘Thank you,’ DI Wynne said. ‘I appreciate it.’
She wouldn’t get much from Edna, Julia thought, but she could try.
‘Right,’ Brian said. ‘And that’s enough standing around. I’m going to look for my daughter.’
Julia watched him leave. She looked at DI Wynne.
‘I’m going too,’ she said.
DI Wynne nodded. ‘Of course. I’ll be here.’ She wrote down her phone number. ‘Call if you find her.’
As she picked up her car keys, her phone rang.
It was Edna. She lifted the phone to her ear. Before she could speak, she heard Edna’s strident tones.
‘Julia, what’s going on? Brian left me a message, about Anna. I tried to call him but he didn’t answer.’
Julia swallowed, hard.
‘She’s missing,’ she said. ‘She’s gone missing.’
There was a pause. ‘What do you mean, missing? When?’
‘After school. She wasn’t here when I came to pick her up.’
‘How’s that possible? The school has policies. They have to—’
Julia interrupted her. She was going to have to say this sooner or later, and it was better to get it out of the way.
‘I was late,’ she said. ‘I was stuck—’
‘But the school know to hold the children back, if a parent is going to be late.’
‘I didn’t call,’ Julia said. ‘My phone was—’
‘You didn’t call?’ Edna said. ‘Julia, what on earth got into you?’
‘I was telling you, my phone—’
‘Never mind,’ Edna said. ‘There’s no time for talking. We need to act. I’m at home, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Twenty minutes, at the most.’
DI Wynne caught Julia’s attention.
‘Who is it?’ she asked.
‘My mother-in-law,’ Julia said. ‘She’s coming to help.’
DI Wynne nodded. ‘Could I talk to her?’
Julia passed her the phone.
‘Mrs Crowne,’ she said. ‘This is Detective Inspector Wynne.’
Julia heard Edna’s voice on the other end, faint, but still recognizably Edna. It sounded as though she was giving orders, taking charge.
‘Thank you for the suggestions, Mrs Crowne,’ DI Wynne said. ‘We have everything in hand. What would help us most is if you could go to your son’s house and wait there. There is a possibility Anna will find her way home and we need someone she knows to be there if she does.’
It seemed Edna agreed. DI Wynne handed the phone back to Julia.
‘I’ll be here,’ she said. ‘Good luck.’
Ninety minutes later – ninety minutes that felt like nine hundred, or nine thousand – Julia was back.
She had driven every minor road she could think of, climbed out of her car and looked under hedges and in ditches. There was no sign of Anna.
She took out her phone and dialled Brian’s number. It rang through to his voicemail.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I’m back at the school. Call me if … if anything happens.’
Julia ended the call and stared out of the window.
She’s out there, she thought. She’s somewhere out there. I have to find her.
Julia had never considered the limitations of time and space. Sure, she’d wished for more hours in the day or had to prioritize one party over another because, like everyone, she couldn’t be in two places at once, but she had never really bothered about it. It was, at worst, an inconvenience; a fact of the universe that might have been an occasional pain, but which there was no point complaining about because there was nothing you could do about it.
For the last two hours, though, it had been the only thing that mattered. She wanted to be everywhere at once. It was the only way she could be sure she would find Anna.
But that wasn’t possible. You really can’t be in two places at once. You can occupy only one patch of earth, one volume of air. And the one she was in was not the same one as Anna.
And might never be.
She couldn’t keep that thought away. It forced its way into her consciousness, trailing hysteria not far behind.
What if she’s gone for good? Dead? Sold into slavery? Locked in a madman’s basement? What if I never see her again?
In the moments after she thought this way, before she was able to grab some small measure of control over herself, she was filled with an emotion so strong that it stopped her doing whatever she was doing. If she was drinking water, the cup would fall from her lips, the contents spilling over her hand and onto the floor. If she was walking she would sink into the nearest chair or against the nearest wall; if she was talking to someone she would stop, mid-sentence and clutch her hands against her stomach.
And it was all the worse because she was to blame.
It was incontrovertible. Yes, she may have some kind of paltry excuse – her meeting ran over, her phone was dead – but if you stepped away from the details, it was clear. If she had been there at two fifty-five, waiting for Anna outside the school gate, then Anna would be with her now. They’d be at home getting ready for Anna’s bedtime, maybe reading The Twits by now.
She definitely wouldn’t be here, at the school, sitting in the head teacher’s office with DI Wynne and a cup of coffee while, through the thick glass of the window, the sun dipped slowly over the horizon. And Anna wouldn’t be – well, Anna wouldn’t be wherever she was.
The door to the office opened and two police officers came in. They were both men, both in their twenties.
