‘Kenny – that’s pure typical!’ Marina chides him. ‘The lassie’s in danger of her life and you just want to know about some motor.’
‘Sorry, I’m not sure. I’m not into cars. It’s quite old. A Ford Escort, I think.’
‘Blue?’
‘Yes, it is actually.’
‘Leave off your games, Kenny; this isn’t the Derren Brown mind-reader show. Let her get on with the story.’
‘Carry on,’ says Kenny. ‘I just need to find something.’ He gets up from the fireside rug and leaves the room.
I’m nearly at the end now, but I realise I’ve left out the part about getting Mary into hospital. I tell them briefly about that.
‘Finlay did everything really,’ I say. ‘I was hiding in the wardrobe half the time.’
Finlay’s mum puts an arm round him and he gives her one of his funny smiles – shy but cheeky at the same time. ‘I told you I was going to see a mad old lady, didn’t I? I do tell the truth sometimes,’ he says.
‘Well done, Leo,’ says Marina, when I get to the end. Well, not quite the end – just up to my arrival at her house. She takes over from there.
‘Finlay knows how I am,’ she says, addressing his parents. ‘I’m a bit of a sucker for helping out, and I don’t like telling tales. But there has to be a limit. I’ve seen the mess young Finlay’s getting into and I don’t want to make it worse.’ She grins at him. ‘That way, I could end up with one of those Enimems, couldn’t I, Finlay?’
‘N of M,’ Finlay corrects her. His parents smile wryly but everyone else looks blank. ‘Notification of Misconduct,’ he explains in a mumble.
‘The main point is that it’s against the law to conceal a runaway,’ Marina continues. ‘Leo’s been reported to the polis. That means anyone hiding her is committing a crime.’
Jacqueline nods knowingly. ‘That’s just what your horrible uncle said, Leo.’
My heart sinks. ‘So I can’t stay?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘What, then?’
‘It’s all got to be above board. The Runaway helpline lot need to know where you are.’
Finlay looks betrayed. ‘Marina! You can’t report her.’
‘I didn’t say that either.’
‘No one’s going to grass her up!’ Finlay turns his look of outrage to his parents. ‘You won’t, will you?’
Kim speaks gently. ‘I think Marina means that Leo should make the phone call herself.’
‘But I can’t do that! They’ll make me go back there.’
‘I’m pretty sure they won’t. I’ve been looking into it,’ says Marina. ‘The Runaway helpline is a confidential number. But they will encourage you to see the polis, and to let them send a message home.’
‘It’s not home!’
‘Well, to the place you ran from.’
‘I’m not going to tell them where I am!’
‘You won’t need to. You just need to let them know you’re safe. And if you’re going to stay here, someone will probably have to vet me, and make sure I’m not a child molester.’
‘But …’ It’s hard to take all this in. ‘Are you sure I won’t have to go back? I mean, they are my relatives.’
‘But we’re your relatives too!’ says Jacqueline. ‘You can stay with us, can’t she, Mum? I know it’s a squash but we could fit an extra bed in with me and Suzanne.’
Finlay’s mum looks doubtful. ‘You’re not such close relatives as Leo’s aunt, though, are you? The way I’ve been working it out, Kim, Leo must be your first cousin once removed.’
‘Well, no one’s removing her ever again!’ says Jacqueline.
‘Your grandfather would count as a closer relative,’ Finlay’s mum goes on. She’s obviously an expert on family trees. ‘But from what I understand he’s not keen to own up to the relationship.’
‘He’ll come round,’ Jacqueline says. ‘We’ll work on him, won’t we, Mum?’
‘You’re all missing the point,’ says Marina. ‘No one’s going to send a wee lassie back to a man who’s going to interfere with her.’
‘Well, he didn’t exactly …’
‘Come on. What about how he tried to bundle you into that car? When you tell the polis about that, he’s going to be the one on the run!’
‘The guy should be locked up,’ says Finlay’s dad.
I’m still not convinced. ‘Suppose they believe him and not me?’
‘Well, in any case, they won’t send you back where you don’t want to be. Not if there’s a good alternative. That way you’d just run away again and that would make a lot more bother for everyone concerned.’
I’m still not sure. It goes against the grain to disclose my identity when I’ve been trying to conceal it for so long.
Kenny comes back in. He has a newspaper in his hand. ‘Did you say your uncle was called John?’ he says.
‘Yes.’
‘And what’s his surname?’
‘Baldwin.’
‘Read this,’ says Kenny.
Evening Times Exclusive
* * *
My Lucky Escape from
Motorway Monster
A man appeared in court this being attacked by a drunk person
morning, facing charges of an with a dog or something. I
attempted assault upon a female couldn’t quite make it out but he
hitch-hiker. The alleged offence was getting quite worked up.
occurred at 2 o’clock yesterday
afternoon, near exit 12 of theLay-by
M74. ‘He offered me a sandwich, and
when I said I didn’t want one he
Lucky to be alive said he knew a country pub
‘I don’t like to think about what where we could get something
could have happened to me,’ said more substantial. I said I’d rather
19-year-old Megan Walker in an get straight back, but he turned
exclusive interview with the off the motorway at the next exit.
Evening Times. ‘I just feel so Then he pulled the car into a layby
lucky to be alive and unharmed.’ and told me to get into the
Vet student Megan was hitch-
back seat. When I refused he
hiking from Glasgow to her said, “Don’t you say No to me
parents’ home in Kendal in the too. That’s one too many.”
Lake District on Tuesday. She ‘I had to think very fast. I
accepted a lift from a man tried to open my door but it
driving a blue Ford Escort. seemed to be locked. Then he
‘The man was middle-aged,
got out himself and came round
with thick glasses and a quiet to my side. He opened both my
voice. He seemed nice enough at door and the back door of the car
first. When he found out I was a and said, “Don’t try any funny
vet student he started telling me business.” He kind of halfhelped,
about his pet birds. half-pulled me out of the
‘He said he’d been in Glasgow
car.
on business but it hadn’t gone ‘My mobile phone was in my
very well. Then he started jeans pocket. I managed to slip
rambling a bit – something about my right hand in and punch 999.
I wasn’t even sure if I’d hit the the letters on it were BUD and
right numbers, but then a voice he’d been talking about his
answered, asking if I wanted budgies.
Police, Fire Brigade or ‘I walked for about a mile, till
Ambulance. I pulled the phone I came to a service station, and I
out and just had time to say, called the police again from
“Help – near exit 12, M74,” there.
before he snatched it from me. I ‘I’m definitely not going to
was really scared then, but he hitch-hike again. I’ve learned
must have panicked. He threw my lesson.’
/> the phone into the car, got in Later yesterday afternoon,
himself and drove off, leaving police arrested a man driving a
me by the roadside. blue Ford Escort with the
registration number which
Number Plate Megan Walker had quoted.
‘I was very shaken, but I did The man, John Baldwin, aged
manage to memorise the car’s 46, from Bristol, is to remain in
registration number. It was quite custody pending his trial.
an easy one, actually, because
Flo to Leo
From: [email protected]
Date: 28 October 19:27
To: missingpeople.org.uk/runaways
Subject: Please forward to Leo Watts-Chan
Hi Leo
I hope that you get this email. We haven’t had any replies to the ones we sent to your old email address and I don’t know if you’ve even read them. But the Runaway Helpline man who phoned us said that if we sent one care of them, they’d print it out and do their best to get it to you.
Actually, Mum doesn’t know I’m writing this. She wasn’t so keen on the emailing idea, just passed on a message which I expect the man has given you. But there were some things I really wanted to tell you.
It was such a relief to get that phone call and to be told that you’re all right, even though we still don’t know where you are yet.
I’ve been dead worried about you. So have Mum and Caitlin. It’s been seven weeks now. We didn’t know if you were alive, or if you’d got into drugs or prostitution or something. You read so much bad stuff in the papers, but I kept telling myself you’ve got your head screwed on and that nothing like that would happen.
Also, I’ve been feeling bad, well, terrible really, because I know me and Caitlin were pretty mean to you a lot of the time when you were here. I’m so sorry about that. Actually I knew all the time I should be being extra nice to you because of your parents dying, but somehow I just couldn’t. I think maybe it’s because of all that family history, what with our mums not really getting on. (My mum used to make jokes about your mum being a hippy, but I think she was always a bit jealous of her too, being so musical and everything.) But I don’t want to blame Mum because I know I was old enough to think for myself. Anyway, I am sorry, and if you want to come back and live with us I’m sure it will be different.
The next bit is going to be harder to write. I don’t know if you’ve read in the papers about Dad, how he’s been arrested for an attempted assault on a hitch-hiker. He’s trying to say that the hitch-hiker made everything up and I wish I could believe him, but I think there’s forensic evidence, and anyway it fits in with everything else. I need to tell you what’s been going on just so you know that he won’t be here if you do come back.
Caitlin and I didn’t know at the time, but even before you came to live with us there had been some complaints about Dad. A teacher from the convent school near us had reported that he’d been hanging round the school gates at home time, and the police had been round to the house about that. But of course he denied it, just said he was waiting for the bus or something. It got Mum suspicious, though – I’ve picked up that something similar had happened in the past.
Then, not long after you’d run away, my friend Lily started being funny and not wanting to come round to our house. I kept asking her why and she just made excuses. But then her mum phoned our mum and told her the real reason. It turns out that one time when Dad had driven her home he’d stopped the car near her house and started telling her how pretty she was and things like that. It was all just talking, but she felt really embarrassed, and when she tried to open the door she found it was locked. He’d had these child locks fitted in the front as well as the back of the car, which we always thought was stupid. He did then unlock the door and made some excuse and Lily wondered if she’d been overreacting, but it still stopped her wanting to come round. Anyway, when her mum phoned, that was the last straw for Mum, coming on top of those other allegations. They had a huge row, and Dad moved out to a flat. He had to hire a van to take all the birds.
Caitlin didn’t know about any of the complaints, and she started off blaming Mum for the separation and being on Dad’s side. We found out later that she’d even been round there to feed the birds when Dad was away in Glasgow the first time. He told her to keep this a secret from me and Mum but in the end it all came out. He never said why he went to Glasgow but I know it must have been to look for you. I don’t know how he managed to track you down, and neither does Mum. Of course we’ve been keen to find you but he’s been acting separately from us, whatever he may have said.
Then another thing happened. He followed one of the convent school girls home and got reported to the police again. This time Caitlin found out, but at first she was still on Dad’s side and thought he was innocent. Dad was going to have to go to court, though he didn’t have a date yet. And now this hitch-hiker thing has happened. And the worst thing of all is, I can’t help worrying that maybe he was like that with you – maybe that was why you ran away.
We heard from the police that a sketchbook was found in his car, and I’m sure it must be yours. So we know he must have found you. I’ve been trying not to think about that. At least you’ll get the sketchbook back eventually. I know it meant a lot to you.
Anyway, I so hope you are really all right. It would be great to know where you are and to see you again. Of course we wouldn’t pass on your address to Dad, and anyway he’s in custody till his trial. Mum says you’d be welcome to come back and live with us, but that no one is going to force you to do anything against your will if you have somewhere safe to live.
One more thing. We have given the birds to an aviary in a wildlife park. In theory they’re just having a holiday there till we see what the outcome of the trial is, but somehow I think they will end up staying there. If you come back to stay or to visit us, we can go and see them. I know how much you liked them and I hope you’ll be pleased that they have a bit more freedom now.
Please write back!
With love from
Your cousin Flo
Leo to Flo
25 Dalgowdie Street, Glasgow
29th October
Dear Flo,
I’m really sorry you’ve been worrying about me. I should have tried to get a message to you sooner – but it’s been difficult, because of things to do with your dad. I hope that now we’re in touch we can arrange to meet soon.
Thanks for letting me know what’s been happening in your family. That must have been hard for you – living through it, and then telling me. Actually, none of what you said came as a huge shock because it fits in with my own experience of Uncle John. I can tell you more when I see you. Don’t worry – none of it is any worse than the things that have happened already.
The Helpline people have put me in touch with an organisation called Aberlour which helps runaways like me think about their future. I’ve had a couple of meetings with a nice woman called Shereen who works there, and she suggested that I invite you and Aunt Sarah up here for a meeting in their office.
Aberlour run a Refuge, but I don’t need to stay there because I’m lucky enough to have met some very supportive people here in Glasgow. Some are family and some are friends, though I kind of think of the friends as my family too, as they’ve all been so good to me.
I’m staying with a couple called Marina and Kenny. Marina has a doughnut stall and Kenny keeps homing pigeons. Yes – more birds! Yesterday he let me come with him when he was taking some new ones on their first training flight. He put them in a crate, drove them a block away and then set them free. I was worried they’d get lost or just fly away but they all found their way back to the pigeon loft.
Marina and Kenny are very kind, but I’m not planning to stay here long. It was really nice of your mum to offer to have me back, but I have a different plan, which is one of the things I’d like to talk about with you and Aunt Sarah. It is to move into a flat w
ith my Chinese cousin Jacqueline. She’s living at home at the moment, but it’s really overcrowded, and she came up with the idea of looking for somewhere for the two of us to share next term, when I’ll be sixteen.
Jacqueline is a student at the Glasgow Art School, and I would love to go there too. But I need the right qualifications. I’m planning to enrol in a college next term to do English and Art and maybe some other subjects. And Jacqueline’s mum is teaching me Chinese. It’s really hard, but I’m determined to learn. It’s funny how when Dad was alive I felt completely English, whereas now I definitely feel half Chinese. I think it’s because of meeting so many of his relations and hearing their stories.
My grandfather is not so friendly as Jacqueline and her branch of the family, but he does now seem to have accepted that I exist. Jacqueline and I went to visit him yesterday in the Elderly Centre, and I tried to remember the song about the galloping horseman which Dad had told me was his favourite. I sang a little bit of it, and when I got the tune wrong he corrected me and finished the song off. That felt like a turning point. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.
Anyway, Flo, you can see that I feel kind of settled here, though maybe I could come to you in the Christmas holidays, if you’ll have me. It will be funny not to share with the birds.
Please give my love to your mum and to Caitlin.
With love from Leo
Finlay – the Dog Trainer
‘Walk quite smartly,’ said the dog trainer. ‘Then your dog won’t look around and get distracted.’
He was talking to the owners of a husky dog, a Jack Russell, a boxer puppy and another dog which looked like a mixture of all of these with a dollop of Labrador thrown in.
Finlay sat in the community hall watching the four dogs being walked by their owners round a square made of strips of black matting. This week some mangy-looking tinsel was festooned over the windows.
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