Schoolgirl Missing: Discover the dark side of family life in the most gripping page-turner of 2019

He pushed back the fear – it was a useless emotion which clouded judgement. Instead he concentrated on his anger; that he could deal with. Poppy knew they would be worried, especially after last time with that bloody social worker, or healthcare visitor, or whatever the hell she was, prying into their lives. Implying that she didn’t fully trust him or Neve. Who the fuck was she? The old cow would have a field day now if they didn’t find Poppy soon.

Kit drove down the main street of the village past the coffee shop where Neve’s friend, Lucie, worked. The place wasn’t open yet and there was no sign of Poppy hanging around outside. Kit wasn’t even sure if Poppy had any money on her. He should have got Neve to check the money jar on Poppy’s windowsill.

The war memorial was at the end of the street and the bus stop was filling up with kids from the local secondary school who were bussed in and out each day. It was also the pick-up point for the St Joseph school bus. Kit scanned the burgundy blazers of the secondary school kids already waiting, hoping to spot Poppy in her home clothes in line with St Joseph’s no uniform policy.

For a moment he thought he saw her, but the flowery top belonged to a sixth former. Some of the pupils were turning to stare at the slowing car. Feeling conspicuous and the need to explain he wasn’t some weirdo, Kit put the window down and leaned across the centre console.

‘Just looking for my daughter, Poppy Masters. She gets the St Joseph’s bus normally. Have you seen her?’

The shrugs and blank looks on the kids’ faces gave him his answer.

‘The St Joseph’s bus is just coming now,’ said one of the girls nodding down the road.

Kit watched the yellow and white minibus pull up alongside the kerb. Kit jumped out of his car and went over to the driver.

‘Hi, I’m Kit Masters,’ he began. ‘My daughter Poppy usually gets this bus.’

The driver gave Kit an expectant look. ‘Where is she? I can’t hang about, I get into trouble if I’m more than five minutes late.’

‘Yeah, sure. Erm, she’s …’ Kit stopped himself explaining any further. He didn’t want to draw attention to the fact she was missing just yet. ‘She’s not getting the bus today,’ he said. ‘Just thought I’d let you know, seeing as she’s your only pick-up from the village. Didn’t want you hanging around for nothing.’

The driver looked surprised. ‘Oh, right. Well, thanks very much for letting me know. I wish other parents were as considerate. Save me a whole load of time that would.’ He gave Kit a nod of thanks and the automatic door wheezed shut.

Kit watched the minibus head off towards the bridge. He gave a sigh and hopped back in his car whilst wishing he could give Poppy a bloody good telling off for this one.

Next stop was the river. Neve and Poppy often walked the dog down here and thinking about it logically, it was probably one of the most obvious places to look for her. Parking the Mercedes in the small car park alongside the riverbank, Kit jogged along the path.

Despite it being summer, it was muddy underfoot from the recent rain and every now and then he had to lengthen his stride to clear a puddle. He had his best shoes on today, ready for the meeting later, and despite his athletic efforts to avoid the grey squelchy mud washed down from the surrounding chalk hills, it was easing its way over the stitched welt of his shoes.

There was a bench around the corner, just before the bridge. Perhaps Poppy would be there? He quickened his pace in anticipation, but his heart plummeted at the sight of the empty seat.

His gaze travelled further along the footpath to the arched bridge which stretched across the River Amble. He peered into the shadows of the arch and could just make out two figures leaning on the handrail overlooking the fast-flowing tidal water. He sped up even more.

As he neared the bridge, relief was the first emotion that swept through him as he recognised his daughter. This was rapidly followed by alarm; who the hell was she with? It looked like a man.

‘Poppy!’ His voice boomed out and he saw his daughter physically jump. The man’s reaction was less exaggerated. He simply turned his head to one side, looking towards Kit, and casually moved his body so he was leaning back against the railings, resting on his elbows.

Now Kit was within a few feet of them he could see the man’s face. It was hard to say how old he was; the beard gave the initial impression that he was perhaps in his early thirties, a few years younger than Kit. The man had an eyebrow piercing and a lip ring. Kit wouldn’t have been at all surprised if the piercings extended to other parts of the man’s body too. He wore a scruffy army-green parka with a sweat shirt underneath, loose tracksuit bottoms and trainers.

‘It’s my dad,’ Poppy said as Kit levelled with them.

The man took a drag of his cigarette which Kit thought looked rather too fat to be a regular roll-up. An earthy turpentine smell hung in the air. Kit glared at him. He looked like one of those do-gooder social workers who were attached to The Forum – a half-way home for young adults who, according to the local council, needed extra support when making the transition from being in care to independent living. Personally, Kit considered it to be a half-way home for kids who needed a kick up the backside and a reality check. A bit of hard graft hadn’t done him any harm. Kit so easily could have played the victim card when he was sixteen and his dad died, but instead he’d seen it as a wake-up call to grasp life with both hands, to work hard and to make his own luck.

He turned his attention to his daughter. ‘Come on, Poppy, you need to go to school.’ He held out his arm indicating the way and expecting compliance.

‘I don’t want to go,’ said Poppy.

‘You don’t have any choice.’ Kit fixed his daughter with a firm look.

‘Take it easy,’ said the man.

Kit turned his stare onto the stranger. ‘I don’t know who you are but mind your own business.’

‘He’s my friend,’ Poppy announced, folding her arms.

‘Since when?’ Kit could feel his temper rising.

‘Since I got here.’ Poppy looked defiantly at her father.

The man smirked, leaned his head back and blew out a plume of smoke.

‘I don’t care who the hell he is,’ said Kit. ‘You’re coming with me now. You’ve got school. You’re making us all late. Neve is off looking for you.’

‘I don’t want to go to school.’

‘Tough.’ Kit was aware he was handling the situation all wrong, but the bloke was pissing him off. Unsettling him. He didn’t like the thought of some man sniffing around his daughter. She was vulnerable and unable to read the unspoken social gestures or display the right signs herself. She would get herself into all sorts of trouble if she wasn’t careful.

Poppy picked up her bag, scowling at her father, but as she turned to her companion, the scowl was exchanged for a smile. ‘See you again,’ she said.

‘Yeah. I’d like that.’

Pressure rose in Kit’s chest. He put a hand on Poppy’s arm, shepherding her down the path, before turning and going back to the man. He got right up in the bloke’s face. ‘No, you fucking won’t.’ His voice barely much more than a whisper. ‘You stay away from my daughter. She’s fourteen. I’ll have you arrested for grooming a minor.’ He paused as he fought to keep his breathing under control. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying, or do I need to say it in simpler terms?’

‘I know what you’re saying but as she told you, we’re just friends. There’s no law against that.’

‘Don’t be clever with me. You go anywhere near her again and I’ll personally see to it that you’re sorry.’

With that Kit marched back down the path, urging Poppy along and ignoring her protests that he was being rude to her friend. Kit sighed inwardly at her simplistic view on the world.

‘You can’t keep going off like that,’ said Kit, as he opened the passenger door for Poppy to get in. ‘It’s irresponsible.’ He gave the door a slam and took a moment to compose himself. Flying off the handle to Poppy right now wouldn’t be the best way to tackle the problem. With a remarkable amount of control, Kit got into the car with a much calmer air about him and gave Neve a call.

‘Have you found her?’ Neve asked immediately on answering the call.

‘Yeah. She’s here with me now. She’s fine.’

‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Neve. ‘I was dreading having to phone the police again after what happened last time.’

‘She was with some bloke – scruffy looking. Claimed he was her friend.’

‘A man? Who?’ came Neve’s voice.

‘I don’t know. A friend, apparently. I don’t know if he had something to do with The Forum. Looked the type.’

‘Which is?’

‘Scruffy. Beard. Eyebrow piercing. Lip ring. I know that doesn’t narrow it down a lot, but he looked too old to be one of the kids from The Forum.’

‘You think he works there?’

‘Like I said, I don’t know. Sod’s law that Poppy should bump into someone like that.’ He cast a glance at his daughter sitting beside him, staring out of the window, her back half-turned on him.

‘We’ll have to speak to her again about going off in a strop,’ said Neve.

‘Definitely,’ said Kit. ‘We’ll do it tonight. I’m going to drop Poppy off at school now and head straight to the office.’ He paused, before speaking, this time ensuring his voice was softer. ‘Look, about earlier. I’m sorry we argued. Do you want to call into the marina later and we can grab a coffee?’

‘Erm … when were you thinking?’

He didn’t miss the hesitation in her voice. ‘I don’t know. In about an hour?’

‘Let’s say eleven. I’ve got a few things to do first.’

Kit wanted to ask what was so important, but he let it go for now to avoid another argument and attempted to ignore the suggestions at the back of his mind as to what Neve was doing. ‘That will be great. See you then.’ He quit the call and started the engine. ‘Right, better get you to school,’ he said, with a sigh. It was barely nine o’clock and it had already proved a stressful day. He could really have done without Poppy doing a disappearing act. He felt frustrated with her for going off like that, but more so because she didn’t, or rather couldn’t, grasp the dangers and the repercussions. He let out another sigh as he reminded himself that it wasn’t Poppy’s fault and he wasn’t frustrated at her – just at the limitations of her cognitive development.

‘Neve is wearing her blue dress today,’ said Poppy, shifting her position in the seat, so she was looking straight ahead.

Kit was used to his daughter’s sudden change in both mood and conversation. ‘It’s a nice dress,’ he answered.

‘Neve always wears her blue dress when she wants to look pretty.’

‘And pretty she looks,’ said Kit. As he spoke, he thought back to Neve that morning. She did indeed look pretty.

‘Callum is sharing his cucumber sandwiches with me.’

‘That’s nice,’ replied Kit, attempting to keep up with the conversation. He tried to concentrate on Poppy’s detailed and elaborate explanation of the seating arrangement in the school canteen, but his mind kept flitting back to Neve in her blue dress. Although his daughter’s observations often appeared random, they were nevertheless spot on. Why was Neve wearing the blue dress? What was she doing this morning that had meant putting off coming to see him? Did it involve Jake?

An unexpected image of Neve rolling around on white linen bed sheets with Jake in a bohemian studio loft room, surrounded by various pieces of art, took Kit by surprise. He gave a shake of his head to rid the thought from his mind. Surely, Neve wouldn’t be involved with a penniless art teacher. What did he have to offer?

Another black thought broke free. Perhaps it wasn’t the material things that interested Neve. Perhaps she was looking for something else. Excitement? Attention? Love?

No. His imagination was getting the better of him, he argued. Neve wouldn’t do that to him. No, Kit was just over-reacting after a bad morning.

Despite this reasoning, the thought of Neve meeting Jake wouldn’t leave him, and Kit found himself becoming more agitated with every thought.

Chapter 3

Neve held her phone to her chest after she had finished the call with Kit and contemplated their conversation. She was relieved Poppy had been found, a little annoyed that her daughter had gone off again and caused all this fuss, and was grateful that the police didn’t have to be involved, but the overriding emotion was concern as to who Poppy had been with.

Kit had mentioned The Forum, maybe she had been with one of the kids from there? Although, technically, she shouldn’t really describe them as kids, they were young adults, ranging from eighteen to twenty-four. Kit was very disparaging of The Forum and its residents, which niggled Neve. She had met some of the youngsters at Jake’s art studio and, on the whole, she had felt a certain amount of empathy with them. Most of them, once you got to know them, were trying to get their lives on track having come through the care system, their backgrounds having little or no positive role models and often horrendous family lives. Neve knew only too well how bad family life could be when you were a young adult.

She wondered who Poppy had met and, as Kit had thought, if they could possibly be from The Forum. She tried to recall the ones she had seen at Jake’s studio but no one in particular sprang to mind matching the description that Kit gave.

There was, of course, one person she could ask – Jake. Neve was aware of the little flutter her stomach gave as she thought of contacting Jake and further acknowledged that it only served to back up Kit’s observations earlier about how she was making more of an effort with her appearance. It was a good job Kit wasn’t aware of her anticipation, it would only upgrade his observation to suspicion, when in actual fact, there wasn’t anything to be suspicious about.

She took out her phone and tapped out a message.

Hi, just wondered if you had five minutes to spare this morning?

She received a reply almost straight away.

For you, of course! I have a break between classes in 20 mins.

Great. See you then.

Neve pushed her phone into her pocket and couldn’t help smiling to herself at Jake’s immediate response and willingness to help. It was flattering and something which Kit hadn’t done in a long time.

Rather than take the car, Neve decided to kill two birds with one stone and take Willow for a walk at the same time. Jake’s art studio was on the outskirts of the village but less than a ten-minute walk away.

It was the beginning of July and despite promises of better weather, today was definitely not keeping schedule with the forecast. As Neve took her raincoat from the peg, she found herself checking her reflection in the mirror and wondering if her lipstick needed touching up.

She sighed and tutted at herself, Kit’s observation had been right, but it irritated her all the same. ‘A girl’s allowed to wear lipstick,’ she said out loud defiantly as she stood up straighter and pushed a stray strand of hair off her face. With that, she shrugged on her jacket and with Willow hooked onto the lead, she set off for the art studio.

As Neve crossed the bridge and turned into Copperthorne Lane, the earlier stomach-fluttering excitement made a return. This was so silly. She was a grown woman. A married woman. Jake Rees was her art tutor. She couldn’t let the current harmless mutual attraction develop into anything else. It was one thing thinking these things and having secret fantasies but playing them out in real life was something else.

Jake had converted an old farm building into a working studio about three years ago and lived above the premises. An artist himself, he supplemented his income with traditional art lessons and art therapy. He was involved with the young adults at The Forum – his social conscience, he called it. Those well off enough to pay for lessons and therapy were also funding those less fortunate who needed support in processing their emotions, thus helping them to make a positive future for themselves.

Neve admired his philosophy. Jake did what a lot of people only talked about, or superficially advocated by pointlessly sharing social media memes and believing that was a way to help. Jake acted on his thoughts, he didn’t just share and flick through to another status update. And of course, there were those who didn’t even do the whole sharing thing. Those like her husband who thought kids today expected everything to be handed to them on a plate and what they really needed was a dose of reality.

Neve sighed. Kit had lost his empathy somewhere along the way. He hadn’t been like that when they married, she was sure, but somewhere, somehow, his compassion had leaked away, leaving behind someone she found hard to understand.

Copperthorne Lane wasn’t much more than a gravel track and as she rounded the bend, the converted buildings came into view. Neve pushed open the stable door and poked her head into the studio where a group of around six artists were standing in front of their easels in a semi-circle. Neve couldn’t see the subject matter but from the boards bearing the half-completed charcoal drawings of a camera, photo albums and some scattered photographs, it looked like they were studying still life.

She caught sight of Jake talking earnestly with one of the women and leaned against the door frame, enjoying watching him without him noticing her. His dark hair, with its relaxed curl, skimmed his eyebrows and equally dark lashes.

‘Hey,’ said Jake, looking up and smiling. He excused himself from his student and came over, kissing her on the cheek. ‘How are you?’

‘Hey,’ replied Neve, taking in a deep breath of his aftershave, mixed with a more overpowering smell of turps. ‘I’m good, thanks.’ She nodded at the artists busy working on their canvasses. The woman Jake had been talking to looked up and smiled. Neve had seen her a few times at the studio but didn’t know her name. She returned the smile. ‘Full house today,’ she said to Jake.

‘Wednesday specials,’ said Jake, lowering his voice and dipping his head so his mouth was near her ear. ‘OAP day.’

Neve gave a small giggle. She flinched inwardly. It wasn’t even that funny what Jake said. She needed to get a grip of herself. ‘I can come back later if you’re busy,’ she found herself saying.

‘Not at all. Come on through. Bring the dog with you as well.’ He placed his hand on the small of Neve’s back and guided her through the main studio.

Neve smiled at another of Jake’s students. This time a gentleman, who Neve estimated to be in his early seventies.

The man stopped what he was doing to make a fuss of Willow. ‘Aren’t you lovely,’ he said, stroking the dog’s ears. ‘I’d better not stroke you too much, you’ll end up with paint all over you, then your mistress won’t be pleased.’

‘Your picture is looking great, Stan,’ said Jake. ‘I like what you’ve done with the greens there. You remembered what we said last week about blending the colours. Good stuff.’

Stan beamed like a schoolboy. ‘Thanks. I wasn’t sure about this area here. Do you ...?’

Jake moved his hand from Neve’s back to Stan’s shoulder as if they were mates down the pub, standing at the bar with their pints. ‘This is good, but remember, Stan, it’s your painting.’ He stood back and addressed the rest of the group. ‘OK, if you want to take a ten-minute break.’

Jake ushered Neve through to the smaller studio at the rear of the main room, which, in turn, led through to a small office.

Neve followed him through the open door and as he closed it behind them, she rested against the table in the middle of the room, which suddenly felt small and intimate. She’d worked in here before, it was a room Jake used for one-to-one sessions or with art therapy students who, for one reason or another, weren’t happy working in a larger group. Neve liked it in here, she felt she could be freer with her art. When she was alone or if it was just Jake in the room, she was able to express her deepest thoughts, her strongest fears and her darkest emotions on the canvas. There was no one to question her work or ask for an interpretation or, indeed, attempt to interpret it themselves. She hated that. They could just as well have been examining her naked body.

‘So, what do I owe this pleasure?’ asked Jake, taking the lead from her hand and hooking it under the leg of a stool. He moved to stand in front of her, his arms folded and dipped his head to seek out her eyes.

Neve had been keeping her focus on Willow, it was the safest place to look, she had decided. Sensing his gaze, Neve looked up at him. Her heart was beating faster than necessary, and she took a deep breath to regain some sort of control.

‘Well,’ she began. ‘Erm … I can’t make the class today after all.’

‘That’s a shame,’ said Jake. ‘A real shame. It’s not the same without you.’ His voice had dropped in both volume and tone.

‘I’m sorry, but Poppy has a presentation at school which I promised I’d attend and I have to meet Kit soon.’

‘Have to?’ said Jake. ‘You know, Neve, you’re a grown woman, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’

Neve’s face was only inches away from Jake’s. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. ‘I’ve already said I would.’ She managed to eke out the words, her eyes still magnetised to those gorgeous brown ones of his.

The sound of Neve’s phone pinging through a text message broke the moment. Jake stepped back as she fumbled in her handbag for her mobile.

Decided to go the whole hog. I’ve organised a spot of lunch on the boat for us. See you soon. Xx

Guilt flushed through her. Kit was clearly going out of his way to patch things up and here she was coming dangerously close to Jake in more ways than one.

She moved over to the window, not because she particularly wanted to admire the view, but she wasn’t sure she trusted herself being so close to Jake. ‘We’ve just spent the past half-hour looking for Poppy. We had a bit of an argument at home and she went off in a huff.’

‘Oh no! Did you find her?’

‘Yes. She’s at school now,’ said Neve, forcing herself to sound composed. ‘Kit found her down by the river with a friend.’

‘That’s a relief. I take it she’s all right, then?’

‘Yes, she’s fine. Just being a grumpy teenager, really.’

‘And what about you? Are you all right?’ asked Jake, coming to stand beside her. ‘It can be a tough job looking out for everyone. You mustn’t forget about yourself.’

If Neve moved her right arm just a fraction away from her body, she knew she would make contact with Jake. A fierce warmth shot through her and she was certain her neck was blotchy.

Neve forced herself to continue looking out at the meadow and the river beyond. Jake’s compassion was both immense and tender. How could something so gentle batter her resolve so forcefully?

She tried to gulp down the little cry that erupted in her throat, but without luck.

‘Hey, hey, hey,’ said Jake, slipping his arm around her shoulder.

She shrugged him away. ‘Don’t,’ she said, muffling another heavy breath with her hand. ‘Too much sympathy and I’ll be a blubbering wreck.’

Jake held his hands up and took a step back. He gave a smile full of kindness. ‘I don’t want to be responsible for making you cry,’ he said.

‘Ignore me, I’m being silly. Just a bit stressed after this morning.’

‘You know where I am if ever you want to talk,’ he said.

‘I do. Thank you, Jake. You’re a good friend.’

His smile downgraded to sadness as he acknowledged her comment with a small nod, before picking up some perfectly clean brushes and busying himself with washing them under the tap. He wrapped a towel around them and squeezed the water from the bristles, before popping them into a jam jar on the windowsill. ‘So, what did you want me for?’ he said, at last. ‘You texted.’

‘It was about Poppy,’ said Neve. ‘Kit didn’t recognise the friend she was with this morning and thought he might be from The Forum. I just wondered if you might know who it was.’