Читать книгу Schoolgirl Missing: Discover the dark side of family life in the most gripping page-turner of 2019 - Sue Fortin, Sue Fortin - Страница 7

It was easy for Neve to say ‘don’t worry’, thought Kit, jumping into his Mercedes; it wasn’t her daughter that was missing. He immediately felt like a shit for even thinking that. He knew how much his wife thought of his daughter and he knew it would hurt Neve to know he’d even gone there with his thoughts. All the same, when it was your own flesh and blood, it was different.

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.