Panting from his sprint, he pushed past the policeman who opened the door and found Kelly in the small kitchen, seated at a tiny pine table. Jack had been sitting with her, but he got up and moved to the hallway to quietly speak to the officer who had followed Rob in, after briefly introducing them. Rob sat in the vacant chair and took Kelly’s hand and gently rubbed it, his insides aching at the sight of the tracks of spent tears down her skin, and the hollow emptiness of her eyes. She glanced almost through Rob as she spoke.

  ?The first thing they did was search the house. Can you believe that? As if I hadn’t done that before I called them. As if I didn’t know all her hiding places. She could be anywhere out there, and they want to search the house.?

  Rob followed her gaze to a crude, childish painting of a house pinned up on the wall. Tabby must have done it. ?What happened? When did she go missing??

  ?She was gone when I got home.?She swallowed a small sob. ?I should never have stayed out so late. Maybe

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  she wanted to know where I was and went looking for me. I should never have gone out. Never.?

  A small fresh tear trickled away from her eye and Rob carefully wiped it away. ?It’s not your fault, Kelly. The police will find her. She won’t have gone far.?He hoped his voice sounded more confident than he felt. It seemed that the news was filled with stories about missing children these days, and not many of them had a happy ending. This will be different, he thought firmly as his eyes wandered over the painting. Things like that don’t happen in places like Streatford. Still holding Kelly’s hand, he looked at the picture quizzically. Something about it was vaguely unsettling him, and he couldn’t figure out exactly what.

  Kelly rested her head on her spare hand, her voice low and dead as she spoke to nobody in particular. ?She took her coat. She took her red coat. Why would she have taken her coat??

  Rob got up and went to Jack, who was leaning against the doorframe. He spoke quietly, even though he doubted Kelly would be listening. She was lost in a private world of fear and grief that no one could penetrate. Not yet, anyway. But when she was ready, he’d be there. ?Was there any sign of a breakin??

  The older man shook his head. ?No. Wherever she’s gone, it looks like she went there on her own. There’s no sign of forced entry, and I’m sure no one came in the house. I would have heard them. It would have woken me up.? His eyes bore into Rob’s, the honesty of the pain and guilt in them, hitting the writer hard. Jack squeezed his lips tight, his gaze slipping away. ?It would have woken me up.?

  Rob nodded, awkward in the other man’s emotion, and patted him on the shoulder. He didn’t think Jack Hollingsworth was a man who gave way to his emotions very often, but he seemed pretty close now. He wished there was something he could say, but he knew better than most that there were no words that could give someone

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  peace from their internal guilt, whether they deserved to be carrying it with them or not.

  His eyes were drawn to the painting again and his brain tingled. There was something familiar about it, something real in the design that the young hand had tried to recreate. Instead of trying to focus on it, bringing the image into sharpness, he let his eyes blur, seeing only the whole and none of the splotches of detail. Suddenly, he seemed unable to see anything else, nothing in the room around him was clear as the crinkled poster paint house on the wall. Of course. It had to be. Could there ever have been a different answer? With the knowledge came a moment of calm, followed by a surge of anger.

  ?Did Tabby paint that??

  Something like ice in his voice made Kelly look up. She smiled sadly. ?She said it was her house. Where she was going to live one day.?Her face twisted slightly and she bit down on her lip, forcing herself to breathe. ?What does it matter? She’s gone.?

  Rob stared at her. ?I think I know where she is.?His voice was getting louder as his excitement rose. ?That house is Syracousse. Maybe she’s gone there.?

  Kelly’s eyes glowed life again as she pushed her chair away, hope oozing from her pores. Rob pulled on his jacket, ready to move. Jack Hollingsworth was still staring at the painting, his lip shaking as he muttered. ?It can’t be. It can’t be. But she couldn’t know. Nobody knows.?

  Kelly had barged past them and was tugging at Officer Keery’s sleeve, dragging him to the door, and Rob shook Jack, bringing him around. He didn’t like losing patience with the emotionally drained pensioner, but they needed to move and they needed to do it straight away. The old man looked as if he’d been slapped in the face.

  ?You go in the car with Kelly. I’ll run down the back way, it’s probably quicker.?He looked thoughtfully at the other man for a moment, at the way his eyes trembled slightly at the edges. ?Are you okay, Jack??

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  The gray irises came back sharply into focus, their strength a reminder of the formidable man who lived inside the weakening body. ?Yes, sorry. I’m fine. It’s just been a long night, and I’m not as young as I used to be.?This time it was he who firmly gripped Rob and pushed him toward the door. ?You get running. We’ll see you up there, and let’s just hope to God we find her.?

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  Rob turned his back on the figures clambering into the Panda car and headed over the back of the Green and onto Ousebank Way, sending a small, silent prayer to a God he didn’t believe in that everything was going to be okay. That Tabby would be fine. That all this would be finished once and for all.

  His legs were burning as he turned off the towpath, his feet pounding the slippery gravel with an almost steady rhythm, lungs tearing at his breath for more oxygen as he sucked desperately at the air. Jesus, it seemed like all he’d done today was run, but there was no stopping now, no matter how much he might want to. Tabby was at the house. Tabby was at Syracousse.

  The thought was a cold certainty in his mind, and he knew it was right. He knew it the same way he’d known there was no way to save Teacher back on that summer’s afternoon when the dog had slid on the carpet against his will in front of the four pairs of frightened eyes, making the world tilt forever.

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  Passing the old iron gates without glancing at them, without even thinking to pause there, Rob followed the wall as it curved away, chasing the ghosts of his childhood footprints to the wooden back gate, the secret entrance to the house of secrets; a child-sized doorway hiding and waiting beneath the protective gaze of the old oak tree, waiting for the touch of a tiny hand.

  As he rounded the bend, his feet slowed to a stumble and then came to a halt, eyes squinting to make sense of what they could see. What was that? A body? Yes, that was it. A body too big to be a child’s lying across the track from the back gate. Hands on his hips he panted heavily, a sweaty stitch starting in his side, as he became vaguely aware of the sound of the police car coming up the drive behind him, stopping on the other side of the bend at the adult entrance to Syracousse.

  The air roared in his ears as he tried to control his breath. If the body wasn’t Tabby, then who else could it be? Who else would have come to the tiny secret gate leading to the back garden? He stared at the collapsed heap dressed in black, and his pupils widened. ?Oh Christ,?he muttered, as his feet once more moved forward, slowly at first and then gaining speed. ?Oh Christ, no.?

  His legs unable to move fast enough, he sprinted the twenty meters or so as if forcing himself through glue, until at last he fell to his knees next to the twisted body of his childhood friend. Oh God, this wasn’t a normal way for a person to be lying. What could have made his legs stick out like that?

  ?Oh, Jason. Oh no, Jase.?Shaking, trying to ignore the lips that were too blue to be healthy, he carefully pulled a sleeve of the leather jacket up on one outstretched arm to check for a pulse. The skin felt cold and doughy. ?Come on, Jase, come on, please …?

  For a moment his fingers felt nothing except their own blood pumping frantically through them as he cursed

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  under his breath, cursed Jason for coming on his own—for not fucking waiting—and cursed him again for the grief that was now exploding inside.

  ?Damn you, Jason, you shit!?he screamed, barely aware of the policeman’s shadow falling across him, and then his whole body froze as he felt a slow, desperately weak beat under his clenched fingers. He was alive, oh Jesus, he was alive.

  Tugging his own light jacket off, he covered Jason’s awkward torso with it as best he could. I think he’s broken his back, I really think he’s broken his back, how can he have broken his back? He looked up at Keery. ?Call an ambulance. He’s alive, but only just.?The policeman was ahead of him, dialing already, and Rob wanted to punch the lack of hope from the man’s face and scream at him that he didn’t know Jason, and Jason was capable of surviving things that other people couldn’t because Jason was special, and Jason just couldn’t go and die like other people did, because there was so much left unsaid and undone and unadventured.

  He was unaware of his own silent tears, until Kelly’s shouts cut through his panicked thoughts. Reluctantly looking up, he saw her on the other side of the lane, holding up something small and muddy, with patches of bright blue showing through. ?It’s Tabby’s slipper. My baby’s slipper!?Without waiting for anyone to answer, she disappeared through the gate, screaming the little girl’s name. Rob knew he should go with her, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave his friend so close to death’s door; he’d turned his back on Jason too many times in the past to let him down now. His place was here, and anyway, Keery was already darting after her, his mobile phone pressed to his ear as he shouted instructions at someone on the other end, no doubt demanding the keys to the house.

  Looking around in a daze as he waited impatiently for the ambulance, time seeming to have distorted on this crazy morning, Rob thought he was alone and was

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  startled to see Jack Hollingsworth twenty or so yards behind him. In all the madness, he’d forgotten the old man was with them, and it seemed as if Jack had forgotten the rest of them were there too, so intently was he staring at the house. Why hasn’t he gone after Kelly? Why is he just gazing at the house like that? What is he seeing?

  Focusing on Jack, he was stunned to see the anguished look on the old man’s weathered face. Whatever memory he was reliving, it wasn’t a pleasant one. He looked as if he were in a turmoil of emotion, and Rob wondered whether he would see tears making their way down the craggy crevices of those cheeks if he were a little closer. Something tapped at the back of his brain. What was it Jack had been muttering when Rob realized that the painting was of Syracousse? What had he said? She couldn’t know. That was it. She couldn’t know. What couldn’t she know? Surely no one else was consumed by crazy secrets untold outside this house? Not an old guy like Jack.

  The ambulance let out a small whoop as it came down the track, breaking both men’s reveries. Jack’s face instantly masked over, becoming calm and normal again, only the strain of the present situation tearing at his features. Rob finally got to his feet, stepping backwards to let the medics do their jobs, feeling his stomach churn as they slowly began to fit neck and back braces to the unconscious Jason, their faces serious and concentrated as they spoke loudly to the man who was in no position to answer them.

  Keery came back out through the side gate with one arm around Kelly, leading her out and guiding her forward as she repeatedly glanced over her shoulder. There was no sign of Tabby, and both Rob and Jack looked questioningly at the policeman.

  Keery shook his head. ?We can’t find her as yet in the garden, but if her slipper’s here, then it’s likely we’ll find her asleep somewhere. One of my men will be here in a

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  minute with the keys to the house, and then we’ll have a thorough search. She might have gotten in somehow.?He glanced over at Jason, who was being maneuvered onto a stretcher and then looked at Rob. ?Are you going with him??

  Rob nodded. ?Yeah. He’s a good friend of mine.?Taking hold of Kelly’s hand, he realized what it was that kept drawing her attention, causing her to nervously gaze over her shoulder. Pushing her hair out of her face, he kissed her on the forehead and then tilted her face up to his so that she could see the sincerity there. ?Tabby wouldn’t have fallen in the pond, Kelly. She’d have to climb over the little fence that surrounds it first, and that would be too high for her. Believe me, I know. I? climbed over it hundreds of times when I was a kid, and it was designed to keep curious toddlers like her out. Okay??

  Letting out a little sniff, Kelly nodded; grateful, if not convinced. The ambulance men were loading Jason into the back now, and Kelly kissed Rob gently on the lips. ?Will you call me later??

  Rob squeezed her tight. ?Of course. And you can reach me at the hospital if you have any news or if you need me for anything. I wish I could stay, but I can’t send Jase off on his own. I need to know that he’s going to be okay.?

  Kelly smiled gently. ?Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of people here.?Her brow furrowed a bit as Rob stepped up to sit down next to the stretcher. ?What do you think Jason was doing here anyway??She didn’t look suspicious, just confused.

  Rob looked away. ?I don’t know. I really don’t know.?

  Keery’s look was hard. ?Well, I’d be interested in finding that out when he comes ‘round. Call me if there’s any change.?

  Glaring at him, Rob slammed the door. 219

  About five minutes after the ambulance had left, four policemen arrived with the keys to Syracousse, shortly followed by a van carrying more constables to help search the house and grounds. Keery had tried to keep Kelly to one side while he swiftly separated his men into parties, sending some along the lane to the river and the fields and spreading the rest evenly around the property, but she refused to remain with the young woman police constable allocated to her, insisting in no uncertain terms that she was damn well going into the house. If anyone was capable of finding Tabby, it was her. Keery had stared into her resolute, exhausted face for only a fraction of a second before admitting defeat.

  ?Okay, you can go in. But if anyone tells you to stop or come out, then you do as you’re told. Agreed??

  ?Agreed.?

  It took all of her restraint not to grab the keys and race ahead of the detective who seemed to be moving too slowly toward the heavy front door.

  ?Come on, come on,?she muttered under her breath as

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  he worked his way around the locks. Her eyes seemed to be aching constantly, and if she looked down at the hands that held on so desperately to the dirty blue slipper, she’d have seen the cuts and scratches that were oozing and scabbing from her frantic attack on the overgrown thorny bushes that had tried to keep the precious prize from her. They were there but she couldn’t feel them. She was vaguely aware of mud and blood, but there was no sensation of pain. She hadn’t felt anything except an awful, hollow emptiness all day. All day and what felt like forever.

  Time had passed like a hazy nightmare ever since she’d put her head around Tabby’s door, still fuzzy and romantic from making love with Rob, and realized with horror that the room was empty. She had a vague memory of moving in slow motion across the landing, screaming for her father to wake up, to tell her that Tabby was sleeping somewhere else and not to be so bloody hysterical. To tell her anything except that the little girl wasn’t in bed and nobody knew where she’d gone. But it didn’t happen like that. It didn’t happen like that at all, and now here she was, trapped in these events that didn’t belong to her, as lost as her baby. Oh Jesus, please let my baby be okay. Please let her come home. For both our sakes.

  The door was finally pushed open, and with an unconscious cry of relief she barged past the uniformed men and ran up the abandoned staircase, which seemed to eat up the large, empty hallway big enough to be considered a room in its own right. Her body surged forward on pure adrenaline and instinct.

  When she came to the shabby landing that had once been cool and elegant, but which now shed its skin in patches like the dry, rotting flesh of the aged, dropping forgotten flakes of paint on the stained floorboards beneath, she stopped, her breathing heavy, eyes darting to the doors on each side, gaze stretching along the full length of the narrow walkway to the tatty, rotting window frame at the far end. She’s here; I know it. She’s some-221

  somewhere here. She turned around, hesitating with this sudden, new certainty. Oh Tabby, I can almost smell you. Where are you? Somewhere outside of the calm island in her mind, she could hear her own straining voice screaming her daughter’s name, screaming for an answer, willing it to come.

  The sun was flooding warmly through the clean glass of the window behind her as Tabby giggled on the carpet with Mr. Pickles. The smell of the flowers in the garden seemed to have followed them inside, and the fresh sweetness danced along the corridor and around her, teasing her hair. She smiled happily and leaned against the golden yellow walls, the music tinkling inside her like it had constantly since she’d arrived. How long ago was that? Her young mind twisted at the puzzle, but couldn’t find an answer. Sometimes she felt like she’d been here forever, and other times it seemed like only minutes. Whichever it was, the monster man who had chased her in that terrible dark seemed like a long time ago now, and that was all that mattered. She was safe here. She was safe and bright and loved.

  Let’s play hide and seek again, Tabby. I’ll hide; you and Mr. Pickles come and find me. Let’s play.

  Hauling herself to her feet, she was about to cover her eyes and start counting, when something seemed to invade the tranquillity, something that she could hear above the music, unsettling her. Tilting her head, she fiddled absently with Mr. Pickle’s ears, trying to tune out the lilting notes and focus on the other sound, the new and familiar one. She stood silent and still, her breath shallow as she concentrated on listening to the sound that seemed to be coming from just outside her range.