by Rosie Harris
When she did reach home late that afternoon, things were in a state of panic and very different from anything Delia had imagined.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked when she saw a police car parked on the road outside their gate, with two policemen standing inside the hall taking a statement from Richard.
‘George has gone missing,’ Peggy told her.
‘Missing? What do you mean?’
‘Just that,’ Peggy snapped. ‘I collected him from school and he was here when Richard came home. Then, half an hour later, when we called him to come and have a drink and some biscuits, we couldn’t find him anywhere.’
‘How strange!’
‘We searched the house from top to bottom, the garage, the garden and the nearby streets. We asked everybody we saw if they had seen a small boy and described him, but no one had. Then Richard phoned the police,’ Peggy told her.
‘How on earth could he go missing?’ Delia asked in a mystified voice. ‘There were only the three of you here, weren’t there?’
‘Yes, I told you, I picked him up and brought him home.’
‘Was he playing outside?’ Delia looked out through the window at the cold grey sky and shivered.
‘No, of course he wasn’t,’ Peggy said indignantly. Then she added, ‘not unless he had gone out without our knowing it and I suppose he must have done that, since he isn’t in the house.’
‘Was he wearing his outdoor clothes?’ Delia asked.
‘Not as far as I know,’ Peggy said. ‘He took them off and hung them up in the hall when we came in like he always does.’
‘There aren’t any children’s clothes out here,’ commented one of the policemen who had been listening to the exchange. ‘Are you the boy’s mother?’ the policeman asked, looking down at the clipboard in his hand and frowning.
‘No, I live here with George and his father, I’m the … housekeeper,’ Delia explained.
‘And the other lady?’ he asked looking at Peggy.
‘A family friend,’ Peggy told him quickly.
Before he could ask any more questions Delia turned and spoke to Richard.
‘Was he all right when you got home?’ she asked.
Richard gave a small shrug. ‘He seemed to be. He and Peggy were talking to each other when I came in. From the sound of George’s voice he wanted to do something and she wasn’t sure about it. Then he saw me and came and gave me a hug and that was it.’
The policeman looked at Peggy. ‘Can you remember what he was asking you?’
She coloured up and shook her head.
‘What did he do afterwards? Did he stay here with the two of you or go up to his room?’ Delia asked.
‘As far as I know, he went up to his room. Half an hour later when we called him he wasn’t there,’ Peggy said.
‘You mean that neither of you heard him come back downstairs, collect his coat and scarf from the hallstand and go out?’ She asked incredulously.
‘No, we didn’t,’ Richard said. ‘We were talking and assumed he was playing upstairs. We never gave it a thought that he would go out on his own, not even into the garden on such a cold evening. Especially since it was getting dark and George doesn’t like the dark.’
The two policemen exchanged looks and one of them made more notes on his clipboard, while the other one walked out into the hall and they could hear him talking on his phone. When he came back into the sitting room, he told them that he had given the details and description of George to headquarters and that all the cars and policemen in the area would be notified.
‘Now don’t be worried, we’ll soon track him down,’ they promised. ‘He can’t have gone far and a small boy, all on his own at this time in the evening, is bound to be spotted and the police informed.’
‘What else do you want us to do?’ Richard asked as they made obvious moves towards the door.
‘Stay here, Mr Wilson. We will telephone you the moment he is located or we have any news of his whereabouts. If you think of anything else that might be useful, like where friends or relations in the area live in case he has gone to visit them, then let us know.’
‘We’ve given you his grandmother’s address and that of Bill Thompson who usually picks him up from school,’ Richard said.
‘Yes, one of our team has been to his house but he’s not at home.’
‘No, I don’t suppose he is,’ Richard said. ‘He went to the hospital this afternoon for eye treatment and my mother went with him so he is probably still at her house.’
‘Yes, yes, you’ve already told us all that and we have verified it.’
‘So, all we can do is wait?’ Richard said.
‘I’m afraid so, sir. I hope we will have news for you very soon but, as I said, if you think of anything that might be of help to us in our search, then get in touch right away.’
FORTY-TWO
George hated the dark. He felt scared. Being out in the dark on his own frightened him so much that he was shaking all over. He had never been out in the dark before; he’d never been out at all on his own. Bill came and collected him from school and when he went to the park it was with his dad or Delia, and when he went to the shops it was with his grandma or Delia.
He tried to imagine that one of them was with him now, but it was no good, he knew he was very much on his own.
He broke into a trot, every bush moved as if about to grab him and pull him into their darkness and every tree waved menacing arms. Shadows became grotesque and played tricks on him. One minute they were alongside him then behind him and then vanished up a wall or into a bush. There were strange sounds all around him, rustling in the branches of overhanging trees, scuffing sounds under the hedges, tiny squeals from somewhere and the whistling of the wind as he went round corners. They all scared him.
Tears pricked at his eyes but he brushed them roughly away with the back of his clenched fist. Only babies cried and he didn’t want a tear-stained face when he found Delia.
He wished Delia was there with him now, to hold his hand and explain all the strange shapes and noises. She wasn’t afraid of anything. She was the most wonderful person in the entire world. He loved Delia and he wished she hadn’t wanted to go nursing again. It had been lovely coming home every afternoon and finding her in the kitchen getting a teatime snack ready for him. It was always something special, always a surprise and always yummy.
He didn’t feel very well. His head ached and his throat was hurting and he was hungry. Peggy hadn’t given him a snack or a drink before his daddy came home and then, the moment she had heard his key in the lock, she had said, ‘Go and say hello to your daddy and then go up to your room and eat this, and I’ll call you down later.’ Then she had given him a bar of chocolate. He’d done as she told him, but he knew Peggy wouldn’t call him down, not until Delia arrived home and their supper was ready.
He didn’t like being sent to his room. He liked his room and he was happy to play there, but only when he wanted to be there. Being sent to his room was almost like a punishment for being naughty. If he couldn’t see Delia, until she came home from the hospital, he could still tell his daddy that his head was hurting and so was his throat. He might be able to do something about it because, when he had tried to tell Peggy, she’d pushed away and told him to stop whining.
He knew he was being naughty now, coming out on his own and not telling anyone but he wanted Delia to help him. He didn’t want to wait for another whole hour until she got home. It was a cold night and now it was starting to rain. He couldn’t stop shivering and thought about turning round and going back home. Now, he wished he had stayed in his room, where it was warm and dry and there were books and games to play with if he wanted something to do.
He trudged on. He wouldn’t give up. He was on the main road now and there were plenty of lights and people about, so he didn’t feel so scared. It was still a long way to go to Windsor though, he thought ruefully. Before he had left, he had taken all the money out of his moneybox and he
had enough to pay his bus fare to Windsor. He knew where the bus stop was because he had gone to Windsor several times with Delia, so he joined the queue and clambered onto the next bus that came along.
‘You on your own son?’ the driver asked as George held out his money to him.
George nodded, took the ticket the driver held out to him and went and sat at the back of the bus, hoping no one would notice him. He wasn’t too sure where he ought to get off. He knew he should have asked the driver, but he’d been afraid that if he didn’t know where he was going the driver mightn’t let him on. He peered out of the window hoping to recognise a shop or building. As the bus turned onto the relief road, he could see Windsor Castle and the Round Tower in the distance and he gave a big sigh of relief. He knew where he was.
He liked Windsor. Delia had taken him there to see the soldiers. He loved it when they all marched down the road and up the hill to the castle for the Changing of the Guard Ceremony. The old Guard – the soldiers who had been guarding the queen for the last twenty-four hours – went home and the new Guard took over. Delia had taken him inside the castle to watch them doing this and, for days afterwards, he had walked very tall with his shoulders back, stamping his feet every time he turned around just like they’d done. He thought he might be a soldier when he grew up, but he didn’t like the big furry hats they had to wear that came right down on their face and almost over their eyes. Delia called them busbys or something like that.
The people who had got on the bus, when he had too, seemed to have all got off, but he still wasn’t sure where he ought to get off and wondered if he had better ask someone. There was a middle-aged man sitting two seats away and he looked as though he might know, but George remembered that Delia had warned him that he must never speak to strangers.
Was the man a stranger? George wasn’t sure when the man had got onto to the bus but he seemed to have been sitting there for a long time. Before George could make up his mind, the man rose from his seat ready to get off, so George followed him. Once they were in the street, the man walked away so quickly that George didn’t have a chance to speak to him.
He stared round at the big, high, Victorian houses that seemed to be frowning down at him as if they knew he was in trouble. He walked to the corner of the road and looked both ways. He didn’t recognise where he was and there seemed to be no one about, except a man in dark uniform about to turn down the next road. George raced to catch him up, then stopped just yards away from him. The man was a policeman.
‘If ever you find yourself in trouble, then find a policeman to help you.’ Delia’s advice rang in his ears as plainly as if she was standing there at his side. Taking a deep breath, George did just that. The policeman listened to what he said.
‘So you are looking for the King Edward Hospital, is that right?’ the policeman asked.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ George nodded.
‘This lady called Delia, is she your mother?’
George shook his head. ‘No, I wish she was.’
The policeman frowned. He studied George for a minute and then he spoke into his phone, looking at George all the time as he did so. Holding the phone away from his mouth he asked, ‘Is your name George Wilson?’
George nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘And you live in Burnham?’
George nodded again. Suddenly he felt frightened. What was going on? Had he done the right thing in asking the policeman for help, he wondered.
‘Right!’ The policeman put away his phone and held out a hand to George. ‘Come on, we’ve a short walk to the station and then you will be taken home.’
‘No! I don’t want to go home, I want to find Delia,’ George muttered, pulling away.
‘She is already at home and telephoned us and asked us to look for you,’ the policeman told him. ‘She was very worried because you weren’t there when she came home from work and no one knew where you were.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. Come along. When we get to the station they will tell you the same thing and then they’ll put you in a police car and take you home.’
Delia and Richard came running down the path to meet George, when the police car drew up at their gate and George and the policeman who had found him got out of the car. Delia held out her arms and he ran to her and hugged her fiercely.
She held him tightly, saying, ‘Oh George, you gave us such a fright!’ Over and over again.
Richard ruffled his hair and said, ‘Let’s get inside before we all catch our death of cold out here in the rain.’ When they reached the shelter of the house, Richard invited the policeman in, but he refused. ‘Have to report back to the station, sir.’
Richard thanked him for bringing George home then followed Delia and George into the warm sitting room.
‘You were a very naughty boy running away like that,’ Peggy told him crossly.
‘Never mind, he’s safely home again now,’ Richard said quickly.
‘I’m not feeling well,’ George complained, clinging to Delia. ‘My head hurts and my throat hurts when I swallow and I’m hungry.’
Delia put a hand on George’s forehead. ‘You’re burning!’ she said in surprise.
‘That’s what happens when you’re naughty,’ Peggy told him.
‘It’s rather more than that,’ Delia murmured worriedly as she held his head between her two hands and studied his face. ‘Look.’ She opened the neck of George’s shirt. He was covered with small red spots.
‘Oh my god!’ Peggy gasped ‘he’s got something contagious. Keep him away from me.’
George burst into tears. He didn’t feel well and now he was really frightened.
‘What’s going on?’ Richard demanded.
‘That child is covered in horrible red spots,’ Peggy said, a note of revulsion in her voice.
‘Really? Let’s have a look,’ Richard said turning to George. George pulled open the neck of his shirt and displayed the spots for his father to examine. ‘Hmm, well that’s either measles or chicken pox. We’ll know for certain tomorrow. It’s rampant at my school.’ He placed a hand on George’s forehead. ‘I’m pretty sure you have a temperature. Do you know where the thermometer is Delia?’
‘Yes, I’ll go and fetch it.’
They checked and decided George had quite a high temperature.
‘Get out of those wet clothes, have something to eat and then straight off to bed,’ Richard ordered. ‘It’s a good thing that Delia made us a casserole for tonight. It’s all piping hot in the oven and there’s enough for all of us,’ he said looking at Peggy.
‘Not for me,’ she said quickly. ‘I haven’t had either measles or chicken pox and I certainly don’t want them. I’ll escape while I am still safe and hope I haven’t already picked it up from any of you.’
‘See you tomorrow?’ Richard asked.
‘No,’ she shook her head vehemently. ‘I’ve got a training session coming up so I’m afraid I won’t be able see you again for ages.’ As she reached the door, Peggy paused and looked back at Delia. ‘This means that you shouldn’t come to work tomorrow or probably not for a couple of weeks. I’m not at all sure that we can keep your job open for that long,’ Peggy told her.
‘I’m sorry, but George comes first and he will need nursing,’ Delia said stiffly.
‘I’m thinking of the safety of our patients not about him,’ Peggy snapped. ‘It’s all very inconvenient,’ she added irritably.
Delia was about to apologise but Peggy’s tone riled her.
‘In that case you’d better find someone else,’ she said with a little smile. ‘I don’t think I want to come back at all, at least not for the next few years, until George is old enough to look after himself. Richard is right, I can’t do two jobs at once.’
FORTY-THREE
George was not an ideal patient. He wanted Delia to be at his side every minute of the night and day. When she wasn’t at his bedside, he called out for drinks or comp
lained that he was either too hot or not warm enough, or that he had a pain somewhere. Mary and Bill were very good, they sat with him while Delia went out food shopping, but George wouldn’t settle while she was out. As he gradually recovered and was well enough to sit propped up by pillows, Delia tried to persuade him to amuse himself looking at his books and comics.
‘I can’t stay with you all the time,’ she said as she gently released his hands from around her neck. ‘I have jobs to do around the house.’
‘Can’t you do them another day?’ he pleaded.
‘There are some, like getting supper ready for when your daddy comes home, that I have to do right now,’ she explained.
Richard was as helpful as he could be and as soon as he came in from work he would take her place at George’s bedside to give her breathing space. Yet he had other things that he needed to deal with, things concerning Megan and making their divorce official. He had no objections to it at all; in fact, he was pleased because it would mean that she was out of his life for good. He’d had some concern that, at some point, Megan could change her mind about George and want to claim him back. Although he didn’t think she would have much success, seeing that she had deserted George when he had been so young, it would be good to know that there was no danger of her ever trying to do so. For George’s sake, he would have hated it if it had been necessary to go to court about it.
He wanted the divorce to be as quiet and discreet as possible. His solicitor had pursed his lips when he had said this.
‘People are getting divorced all the time,’ he said dismissively. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
Richard wondered if he should tell his mother about it, also Delia and perhaps Bill, but decided it probably wasn’t necessary. They all seemed to have taken it for granted that Megan wouldn’t ever be coming back. George never mentioned her name, nor did he seem to miss her, so it was probably best to say nothing, Richard decided. George was so happy with Delia and she seemed to understand his little ways.