“Please tell me he’s home, Libby?”
“Garda McCartney’s here now – he’s on his way up the stairs.”
“Have you have something for me, Guard?” Tina says as soon as he appears at her door.
“I’m sorry to say that we still have no sightings of either of them and no new leads,” he says, walking into the room.
“Why can’t you find him?” She has had enough. No one seems to be treating this as urgently as it needs to be treated. “Surely you have to be able to track them down! I don’t know what you’re at at all!” Her voice is raised but her throat feels dry and scratchy.
“I assure you we’re doing all we can but I wanted to talk to you about something. I think at this stage it would be advisable to put out an appeal through the media.”
“What do you mean?”
“It would involve issuing an Amber Alert whereby we would circulate a photo of John-Paul and Jack along with an appeal to the media asking the public to notify us if they have any sightings of them. We would also use social media and road signs to get the message out there. We have had good success using appeals in previous cases but you need to be aware of the risks associated with doing a media appeal. If the abductor knows he is being hunted,” he pauses, “he may panic and do something to harm the child.”
“Jesus!” Tina voices breaks and she starts to sob. “I just want my baby home, that’s all I want!”
“I know, love,” Libby says, rubbing her hand, “but I don’t think we’ve many options left at this stage – we need to find him.”
Tina nods. “You’re right . . . okay . . . do it.”
“I’ll get you the photos,” Libby says to the Garda.
One o’clock goes to two, two to three and three to four. The day passes with no new information from Garda McCartney. Libby watches the news bulletins and her stomach knots every time the photo flashes up with the photo of Jack that she had taken on Christmas Day last year. They watch every hour on the clock. They are waiting for a knock on the door and for Jack to run inside the kitchen but it doesn’t come.
Darkness falls on the terraced house but still Jack doesn’t come home.
Chapter 58
“Dot Devlin, what are you doing up there dangling out of that window? Come down here this minute!”
She has climbed up onto the radiator and is lying backwards across the stone windowsill so that her head is outside the window and her hair is hanging out over the ledge. She straightens up when she hears Ella’s voice.
“I’m just trying to see how long my hair is.”
“And that explains why you need to hang out of the window how?”
“Because I want to see if it’s touching the ground. I have to check every day to see how much it has grown.” She says it as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.
“It would take hundreds of years for your hair to grow long enough to touch the ground, Dot.”
“Well, it didn’t take Rapunzel that long.”
“No, it didn’t, but that was a fairytale.”
“Oh Mummy,” she sighs. “Don’t you know that fairytales are real? Sometimes I feel so sorry for you.”
She shakes her little head in despair and Ella has to fight to keep the smile off her face.
Ella climbs the stairs to the top of the tower. The kitchen is like a glasshouse – it is always unnaturally warm on sunny days. She searches amongst the cereal boxes left out from breakfast to find the remote to open up the windows and let some air in.
Dan is sitting at the table, feeding Maisie in her high chair. Ever since their conversation the other night, she feels as though a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. The tension that had been dividing them over the last few weeks has finally lifted. She knows he is on her side and that, together, they can get through it. She has her first psychotherapy session that evening and she feels a knot of anxiety every time that she thinks about it but she knows that she needs professional help to get through this. It’s the only way.
“We need to start thinking about Celeste’s birthday party,” she says. “It’s only two weeks away now.”
“Well, what were you thinking of?”
“I think we should have it here.”
“But where are we going to fit them all?”
“It doesn’t matter – we’ll manage. We could have one of those makeover parties or maybe a cupcake-making class – what do you think Celeste would prefer?”
“But you always said that you hated those things. Didn’t you call them over-commercialised and tacky?” Dan says, laughing.
“Yeah, I do hate them, but it’s not about me. I’m going to give that child the best party – there is no way I’m going to let her down after everything she has been through over the last few weeks.”
“Are you sure you’re not trying to win back her friends for her?”
“And so what if I am? Do you know how guilty I feel at the backlash she is getting because of me? I just think if she has a brilliant party then maybe they’ll forget about the whole thing and can all go back to being friends again.”
“I don’t know . . . ” he says warily.
“Well, I’m doing it.” She feels an excitement that she hasn’t felt in months. She takes the spiral staircase down to the living room two steps at a time. Celeste is sitting cross-legged in front of the TV.
“I thought we might have a party here in the house for your birthday – what do you think?”
“Really? In the house? But you never let us have birthday parties in the house because you said it’s too much hassle – you always go out somewhere because it’s easier.” Her tone is unmistakably doubtful.
“Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind and I actually think it would be nice to have a party here for a change.”
“Well, nobody is going to come. You know that, don’t you, Mum?”
“Of course they will.” She grabs her iPad and starts jotting down names and ideas. “Oh, and we need a theme, Celeste.”
Dan has brought Maisie down. “Now let’s not get too carried away here,” he interjects.
“What does a theme mean, Mum?” Dot is asking Ella.
“You know at parties when it’s all about pirates or cupcakes or whatever you want?”
“How about princesses?” she suggests helpfully. “I could be Rapunzel.”
Celeste looks at her. “Eh . . . I’m going to be nine,” she says in her best little-girl-trying-to-be-grown-up sarcastic voice. “Maybe mermaids because we live beside the sea,” she says cagily.
“Great idea. Okay, mermaids it is then. We should get caterers too.”
“But they’re eight-going-on-nine-year-olds – they don’t care about food once there are a few Rice Krispie buns going,” Dan protests.
“Eh . . . we won’t be having Rice Krispie buns at this party! Besides, the parents will expect food.”
“But can’t we just stick a few cocktails sausages into the oven?”
She shakes her head despairingly at him. “I hate to break it to you, love, but parties have come a long way since 1983.”
“Well, I hope this isn’t some kind of crusade to make yourself popular with the other mothers again.”
She shoots him a look and he knows that he probably should shut up now.
Chapter 59
John-Paul has checked them into a B&B on the outskirts of the city. It is situated in a seventies housing estate beside an industrial park. The owner, a rotund, motherly lady is fussing over Jack.
“This is a lovely treat. I don’t get many young boys here – usually just grumpy old businessmen and older couples. I bet you’ll eat a big breakfast for me in the morning, won’t you, love?”
Jack grins up at her shyly.
“Do you like sausages?” she continues. “Because if you do I’ll put on the jumbo ones especially for you.”
Jack nods eagerly. “I love sausages but I don’t like it when the beans touch off them.”
“Well, how about I put the beans on a
separate plate for you – would you like that?”
“Yes, please.”
“And such lovely manners too! Are ye just down for the one night?”
John-Paul nods. “Yeah, just a short break away.”
“Well, isn’t that lovely – well, I’ll let you off up to your room and you can get settled. Will I show you up to it?”
“Ah, you’re grand – we’ll go on up ourselves.”
“Well, it’s number five, up the stairs and it’s the second door on your left-hand side.”
“That’s great thanks, love,” John-Paul says, taking the key from her.
“Here, take a few more of those up to the room with you.” She presses a packet of bourbon biscuits into his hand.
“This is weird, Da – it’s like staying in someone’s house,” Jack says as they climb the stairs.
“That’s because it is someone’s house.”
“But why does she want people staying in her house? Does she get lonely?”
“No, we have to pay her – it’s not for free, yeh big ninny!”
“Ma should make our house a B&B because we have a spare bedroom and then we’d have more money to buy things.”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t done it already – your ma’s always looking for a way to squeeze a few extra bob out of people.”
John-Paul unlocks the door and they go inside the room.
“This is cool!” Jack says. “But there’s only one bed – I bagsy it.” He says jumping on it. “Can I turn on the TV?”
“Yeah, go on.”
“It’s a bit small, though, isn’t it?”
“You’re never happy!”
Jack sits up on the bed with the remote control and flicks through the channels while John-Paul takes a shower.
John-Paul is just coming out of the bathroom, towelling himself off when Jack says, “Look, Da, that’s me!”
“What are you saying?” He stops drying himself and looks up at the screen and sure enough there is a photo of Jack with his front tooth missing. It was taken last Christmas standing in front of the Christmas tree.
“Cool! How did I get on TV?” Jack asks excitedly. Then it flashes to a photo of John-Paul. “Look, Da, it’s you now!” He starts laughing. “Look at the state of your hair.” It’s an old one, taken about five years ago. His mother was in the photo too but they must have cut her out of it. “Why are we on TV, Da?”
“I don’t believe it, I don’t fucking believe it!” John-Paul rubs his hands down over his face and starts pacing the room.
“What’s wrong, Da? Why are we on TV?”
“We have to get out of here, Jack, we have to go.” He pushes his feet back inside his trainers.
“But Mrs Walsh promised me a lovely breakfast in the morning – she said she’d put on the jumbo sausages especially for me!”
“I’ll get you a sausage roll in a deli – now come on, Jack, we have to go fast.”
“But it’s not the same!” he protests. “I like it here! It’s nice and warm and Mrs Walsh is nice!”
“Come on, we’re going, but you have to be really quiet.”
They tiptoe out of the room and creep quietly down the stairs. John-Paul unlatches the front door and beckons Jack silently outside. He starts running until they reach the top of the estate, Jack behind him trying to keep up.
“Where are we going now, Da? I hate this. I’m tired, Da, I just want to go home.”
“Stop it, Jack!” he shouts at him. “I can’t hear meself think!”
Jack is taken aback and starts to cry. “I want to go home to Ma!”
“Look, I’ll get you sweets in the shop, all right?”
They go into a shop and the woman behind the counter is looking at them. She watches them as Jack picks up a packet of crisps and some Giant Jawbreakers and hands them to her to scan.
“Da, can I get a drink as well?”
“Go on then.”
“Ye’re down from Dublin?” she asks, hearing the accents.
John-Paul looks at her and she looks at him.
“Come on, Jack, we’re going.’
“But what about my stuff?”
“Come on quick!”
They are running down the street and Jack can’t keep up but John-Paul keeps roaring at him to hurry on. They round a corner onto a darkened cobbled lane and take a left off it down a back alley full of cardboard boxes left out the back doors of the businesses on the other side. Shadows loom dark and threatening.
“I’m scared, Da – I don’t like this any more.”
“They’re after us, do you understand?”
“Who is?”
“The Gardaí – we’re on the news. If they get me, that’s it, Jack – I won’t get to see you again.”
Jack starts to cry.
“Why are you crying, Jack?”
“Because I’m scared, Da. I miss Ma and I know she misses me too. I don’t like it here – it’s no fun. I just want to go home.”
“But like I said – if I bring you home, Jack, that’s it – they won’t let me see you again. You know that, don’t you?”
“But why, Da?”
“Look, Jack, it’s hard to explain but I did something stupid. I wasn’t thinking and I lashed out but now we’re too far gone. I’m sorry I didn’t fight to see you more when you were little and all. I shouldha’ tried harder. I know your ma is sick and I’m sad because, believe it or not, there was a time when me and your ma got on all right, you know? We had some good times back in the day and no matter what’s gone on between us, she’s been a good ma to you and I can’t take that away from her. But I love you, Jack – you’re me son, me flesh and blood, and I don’t want to be without you but sometimes they don’t give fathers a chance and then we end up doing something stupid like this and then they say they were right all along but they weren’t. We just get desperate. Do you understand, Jack?”
Jack won’t meet his eyes.
“Of course you don’t, sure you’re only a child. I’m sorry, Jack.” He is melancholic. “Two hours every second week, sitting in an office with people watching you, that’s all they agreed to give us but this is probably going to be it for you and me now. I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed but I know they won’t let me see you after beating the head off that queer in the bookshop and then running off with you here. I know that’s it, son. Do you understand what I’m trying to say to you? I wish I could just hold onto you here forever myself, just you and me without any of the rest of them sticking their beaks in. Do you know what that means, Jack?”
He shakes his head. His small body is shivering, his teeth chattering.
“It means that no matter what happens next I want you to remember that your da loves you very much. I’m not the best da in the world, nowhere near it, and I’ve made a lot of mistakes but it won’t change how much I love you, son, do you hear me?”
Jack doesn’t answer.
“Come on, son.”
They get up and walk down the cobbled street. They keep walking until they are standing at the water’s edge. They stand and stare as moonlight glints off it in blue-grey and silver.
“Where are we going, Da?” Jack asks eventually.
“Back where you belong.”
Chapter 60
“Oh thank God, thank God!” Warm tears spring from Libby’s eyes and course down her face. She turns to Tina. “They have him, love, he’s in Galway. John-Paul’s turned himself in.” She continues on the phone, “Thank you so much, I can’t thank you enough. Here, Tina, do you want to talk to Jack?”
She passes the phone to her.
“Hi, Ma.” The sound of Jack’s small voice on the other end is the best sound she has ever heard.
“Hiya, Jack love – you don’t know how good it feels to hear your voice. It is the sweetest voice I have ever heard. Thank God you’re all right. We’ve all been so worried about you. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m in the back of a police car and they’ve turned on
the lights and we’re speeding through the city.”
“Well, they’ll have you home to us soon. God, I can’t wait to squeeze the bones of you, my little man!”
A little over two hours later an exhausted Jack comes through the door. Libby hugs him tightly before leading him upstairs to see Tina.
He runs into the room and throws both his arms around her.
“I didn’t want to go, Ma! Am I going to be in trouble?”
“You’re not in trouble, don’t worry, pet. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I never want to go away from you again. I didn’t like it – we stayed in a place with no glass in the windows, just wood – it was freezing. It wasn’t finished being builded.”
“I know, love, I know.”
“Why are you crying, Ma?”
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