The Runaway

by Linda Huber

  Rob taped up the box of boyhood treasures he’d been going through, and carried it into his bedroom to add to the pile in the corner. After two days of intensive organising, this was the last box and woo-hoo, they had finished sorting out what was coming to Brighton and what was heading for the charity shop, the skip or being sold. Now to see how was Mum getting on.

  Dorothy was sitting on her bed, deep in old photo albums, her reading glasses slipping down her nose.

  ‘How’s it going, Ma?’

  ‘Hm.’ She gave him a half smile. ‘I’m having a good old wallow in nostalgia. Look – this is the summer before you started secondary school. We went to the Eden Project, remember?’

  Rob sat beside her on the bed and gazed at the album on her lap. Nineties hairdos all over the place, and the three of them not knowing Dad’s first heart attack was a few short weeks away. He hugged Dorothy.

  ‘Happy memories, Mum. We won’t lose them.’

  She lifted another album, which started with photos of Mia’s birth. ‘No, we won’t. And these are precious too, especially for Mia. Listen, there’s the car. I’ll go down and help Phoebe unpack the shopping.’

  Rob went up for a last check around the attic to make sure it really was empty, then he stowed the ladder and went to wash his hands. That would be his last time in the attic here, in the house where he’d done his growing up. Soon, he’d be leaving it for the last time. Letting go of the past was unsettling.

  He ran downstairs, where Phoebe was on the sofa with her laptop.

  Rob sank down beside her. ‘Where’s Mia?’

  Phoebe’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Wasn’t she with you?’

  ‘No – she told me she’d rather go with you.’

  Rob leapt to his feet and stared around wildly. Dorothy was outside, throwing Scout’s ball for him, but no small girl was running around joining the fun. And the kitchen was empty.

  Rob’s breath caught in his throat. ‘Shit – where is she? Mia!’ No answer came; hell, shades of Scout. But she couldn’t be far. ‘You look in the house, Phoebs, make sure she isn’t hiding somewhere for a joke. Mum!’

  Phoebe dived down to the cellar, and Rob joined Dorothy outside.

  ‘Mia’s not with you?’

  She gaped at him. ‘No. Wasn’t she up in the attic with you?’

  ‘No.’ Rob struggled to stay calm. ‘Could you have a look in the Seatons’ garden, and the other gardens too? I’ll run up the road. She might have gone to watch for Phoebe coming back and missed her, somehow.’ It was unlikely, but the alternative was the cliff path. Heart thudding, Rob ran along Coast Road until it hit the main road to St Ives. There was no sign of Mia, and she and Phoebe couldn’t have missed each other here unless they’d both had their eyes shut, anyway. He dashed back home, where Phoebe was running downstairs. Alone.

  Rob spun on his heels. ‘I’ll check the cliff path.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’ Phoebe slid her hand into his, and Rob held on tightly. Please God Mia hadn’t fallen. The mental picture was horrific; a broken little body at the bottom of a cliff, waiting for the sea to come and… He stumbled along, past the car park used by coastal path walkers, down to the rough pathway. You could see along the path for miles in both directions today, but no small figure was hurrying along. Swallowing bile, Rob stared down the rugged cliff to the beach below. What had Mia been wearing? A yellow T-shirt, yes. His heart in his mouth, he peered over, down, down to the beach far below. Would he notice a yellow T-shirt against the sand? Surely yes – and there was nothing there. He grabbed Phoebe, the relief only momentary. They still didn’t know where Mia was.

  ‘We should drive around. She could have gone a long way; we don’t know when she set out.’ Phoebe pulled him back to Coast Road, where Dorothy was emerging from the front garden of the furthest holiday lets property.

  Rob and Phoebe ran, and they all met in the middle of Coast Road. One look at his mother’s expression was enough. Rob’s stomach cramped; he was going to have to say the unthinkable.

  ‘Suppose she’s been tak–’

  Dorothy grabbed Rob. ‘She’s there! Mia!’

  He wheeled round in time to see Mia run from the Seatons’ driveway. She stopped when she saw them, a shocked expression on her face, then thrust both hands into the pockets of her shorts and slouched towards them.

  Five strides and he was grasping her shoulders. ‘Where were you, Mia? We were worried – why didn’t you go to the supermarket with Phoebe like you said?’

  Mia blinked at him dumbly.

  ‘I looked in the Seatons’ garden, and I didn’t see you,’ said Dorothy. ‘Were you hiding?’

  Two tears ran down Mia’s cheeks. ‘Sort of. I didn’t know you were looking for me.’

  Rob stood taking deep breaths. She must have heard them yelling for her. The Seatons’ back garden was a wilderness, attractive to a child even before you figured in the apple tree. Mia had probably been eating windfalls under a bush. He gripped her shoulder, then let go. This summer was complicated enough without escalating this into a drama. She would know she’d done wrong without him yelling at her.

  ‘We were worried, Mia. I want you to promise you won’t go into the Seatons’ garden again, do you hear? Apart from anything else, it’s not our place and Ed would have every right to be angry if he saw you playing there.’

  Mia wiped a grubby hand across her T-shirt. ‘Promise.’

  ‘Okay. You can go and have a think in your room until lunchtime, and do you have anything to say to Nan and Phoebe? You gave us all a fright.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Nan. And Phoebe. And Daddy.’ She ran inside.

  Rob breathed out slowly through pursed lips, and turned to the two women in his life. His mother gave him the ghost of a smile.

  ‘Is it too early for sherry? I feel we’ve earned one.’

  Mia hurried downstairs the minute she was called at lunchtime. It was Phoebe who’d called her – were Nan and Dad still cross? But when she went into the kitchen everyone was smiling and her dad gave her a hug. ‘It’s all right, Mia. You’ve made your promise so everything’s okay.’

  Mia ate ham salad and listened as the grown-ups talked about poor Scout. He was having a little operation tomorrow, one he had to have before he could go to dog day care on the days no one was home to look after him. Dad was taking him to the vet’s tomorrow morning.

  Salad finished, Mia sat fingering Mr Seaton’s key in her pocket. She hadn’t had a chance to put it back yet. Her shoulders drooped – she’d searched all the rooms next door now, but she hadn’t found a single clue. Mia kept her eyes on her empty plate, letting the talk about the furniture Nan would need in Brighton wash over her head. She gripped the key more tightly. She would go back one more time. She’d never gone down to the cellar because it was dark, but she’d searched everywhere else. She could take a torch; there was one in Nan’s hall cupboard. She hadn’t promised anything about the house…

  Chapter Ten

  Tuesday, 4th August

  Kelly lay on the mattress, closing her eyes against the dimness of the room. The days were all the same here, and she still didn’t know where she was.

  The solitude was driving her batshit crazy. Sometimes her head hurt like it was going to burst, and the scream that started at the pit of her stomach would rise, up and up and then out, and why didn’t anyone hear her? Some days there was no rage, just hot tears that made her throat swell and her head would pound and it was all way too much. The dark cloud would come and it was as if all the life had been sucked out of her. Most of the time she lay here, half-sleeping, half-dreaming, waiting for it all to stop.

  What would it be like, to be dead? She curled into a ball, pulling her knees up to her chest, hands searching for comforting warmth and finding only bones that stuck out more every day. Being dead couldn’t be that bad. But the dying… that was scary. Would you know when it was the last breath? Would you try to come back, in that last split second, and then fail and fall screaming into e
ternal darkness? And was there a God? Her body shook with shivers that had nothing to do with the temperature. At least she had light again in the toilet; it must have been a power cut that killed the bulb at the beginning because it came on again a few hours later. It was the only thing to be glad about here.

  A noise came from the other side of the door, and Kelly lay still. It wasn’t him – or if it was, he was doing something different. All she usually heard were footsteps, then the door and the sound of cardboard sliding on the floor as another box of food was pushed in.

  Something banged on the door now, and she rolled over and scurried into the corner. Was this it – the time he would rape her, strangle her, beat her to a pulp? But why the shit had he waited so long?

  A metallic sound clinked on the other side of the door. He’d dropped the key. More thuds, and the key grated into the lock. Kelly closed her eyes, hugging her knees, holding her breath.

  The door opened and the usual chink of light came. And this time it stayed. Kelly peeked up, keeping her eyes half-shut against the light, her whole body shaking.

  Nothing happened. Was he out there? A thud, as if he’d fallen against the door frame, and a grunt – was he drunk? Maybe she could fight him off. She kneeled up, leaning on the wall, and pushed herself to her feet.

  A whisper. ‘I hope you know how lucky you were, girl. You had everything I never had, and you chucked it all away.’

  Kelly reeled against the wall, her hands shaking towards her mouth as a soundless scream came from her throat. WTAF??? This was her father, except he’d gone mad, obviously, he’d lost it completely.

  ‘Dad – let me out! Let me–’ She lurched forwards, but as soon as she moved, a box was shot into the room and the door slammed behind it.

  Kelly battered on hard wood. ‘Dad! Let me out!’

  He was there; slits of light still glimmered around the door. And then the whispering began, vile, crazy stuff mixed up with obscenities. Kelly stepped back. There was nothing she could do against this except cover her ears, so she did, stumbling back to the mattress, where she lay shaking and sobbing and moaning all the time the whispers were snaking into the room.

  And then he went away. Kelly lay still, listening as the footsteps faded into nothing. She crossed her arms over her chest; her heart was thudding away and she couldn’t think straight. This was even worse than waking up in here the first time. What had happened – why – and what was Mum doing? Was she locked up somewhere too? And the big question was still there: where was this?

  She stared at the wall where the boarded-up window was. Okay. Think, Kel. She was in a cellar, but this room wasn’t in their own cellar – there was no loo down there. Was it a garage, a lock-up, somewhere? Or some kind of hide, like in Anne Frank’s diary? And how was she going to find out?

  Chapter Eleven

  Wednesday, 5th August

  Ably assisted by Mia, Rob manhandled Scout’s cage into the car, then went back inside for the puppy. Poor little sod, he’d realised something was going on, and he’d be hungry, too – still, this had to be done.

  His mother came in and fussed Scout, who only wanted his breakfast. ‘You’ll be home before you know it, Scout.’ She glanced at Rob. ‘I called Nicola. She’s coming by next week with a van to move her things to London. She’ll come in to, um, say goodbye before she leaves.’

  So Nicola was leaving Ed. Rob exchanged glances with Dorothy, but really, Nicola might be doing the right thing. Ed appeared to have distanced himself completely from her and the search for Kelly.

  ‘You’ll need to get her address in London.’

  ‘Yes. I wish–’

  She broke off, but Mia finished for her.

  ‘–she could find Kelly soon.’

  Rob jumped. Mia’d been giving every indication of concentrating solely on the dog.

  Dorothy kissed Mia’s head. ‘That would be wonderful.’

  Rob leaned both hands on the kitchen table. ‘Okay, team. Plan as discussed last night. Mum and I take Scout to the vet’s, then I drop her off in St Ives. Phoebe and Mia hold the fort here. I’ll be back in half an hour, and after lunch, Mia, the three of us’ll go to the beach for a while, then we’ll pick your nan and Scout up.’

  ‘And we’d better get going,’ said Dorothy, looking at her watch. ‘Come on, Scout. Let’s get you in the car.’

  Mia pouted. ‘I want to come to the vet’s too.’

  ‘You’ll be there when we pick him up,’ said Rob. ‘That’s the important bit. He needs to be kept calm until we get there, and your nan and I are better at that. You can help put him in the car.’

  They all went outside, and Mia helped him bundle poor Scout into his cage. Rob grimaced. The dog was shaking now, and Mia was close to tears – time to cut the goodbye scene short.

  Mia and Phoebe stood at the front door as he started the engine, Phoebs smiling cheerfully and Mia with her face tripping her. Rob waited while Ed Seaton drove past, then he followed on up to the main road and turned towards St Ives, Scout whining in the back. Thank God it wasn’t a long drive.

  Mia trailed into the house behind Phoebe. Poor Scout. And the operation was to stop him having puppies, which was a pity – but Phoebe said they could go to Dave’s kennels again soon and see the new puppies there.

  Phoebe lifted her tablet from the kitchen table. ‘I’m going to have a quick shower, Mia darling, so you can play on the tablet until I’m down again. Look, here’s your frog game. Then I thought we could do our nails? You can choose whichever colour you like.’

  ‘Can I have turquoise?’ Phoebe had the biggest collection of nail varnish ever.

  ‘Sure. See you in ten, okay?’

  She vanished upstairs, and Mia abandoned the tablet and ran into the living room for Kelly’s dad’s key. Phoebe’s showers were never short, and then she spent ages drying her hair. Ten minutes would be all she’d need, anyway, to search the cellar.

  Next door, all was quiet. Mia stood for a moment in the hall, planning. She’d do a little mini-check in Kelly’s room first, in case she’d missed anything last time. Upstairs, quick.

  The room was still the same, though. Mia peered into the space between the wardrobe and the wall at the side, but it was full of cardboard tubes, the kind you kept posters in. A carrier bag she hadn’t noticed before was squeezed in there too, and Mia peeped in – there was a lovely shell box inside, but it was empty. The cellar was the only place left to find clues; she should do that now.

  There was no key in the cellar door today, but one was sitting on the hall table beside a wallet and a phone. Mia pushed it into the lock and turned. Good.

  The stair light was still broken, but she left the door open so there was a bit of light, and she’d brought Nan’s torch. It was smelly here, a cellar-ish kind of smell like in the dungeons at the castle she and Dad and Phoebe had visited at Easter. Not like Nan’s cellar at all. Mia swung the torch beam around. This cellar was much dustier than Nan’s. She pushed the first door and it swung open to reveal a workshop with shelves and tools. The little window high up near the ceiling was dirty, but Mia could tell it looked out at the front driveway. The window at the back was boarded up, of course.

  Kelly’s dad had a lot of tools and a couple of big machines, too. Mia had a look round the workshop, but there was nothing to do with Kelly in here and she went back to the dark passageway. She’d have a quick look in the other cellar rooms and go home and – what was that?

  A light flashed behind her. Mia whirled round and the torch thudded to the floor. And everything went black.

  Phoebe’s call reached Rob when he was pulling away from the kerb after depositing his mother on her friend’s doorstep.

  ‘Mia’s gone missing again!’

  ‘Shit! I’m on my way!’ As soon as St Ives was behind him, Rob put his foot down. It was too bad of Mia – what was she thinking? They’d have to dole out some kind of punishment this time, exactly what he’d wanted to avoid, but she’d left him no choice. He t
urned into Coast Road and gunned the car along to the house. This time, at least he didn’t need to check the road, he’d done that en route. He stared at the coastal path, where mist was swirling in off the sea.

  Phoebe rushed round from the back garden, her face stricken. ‘She’s not in the house, unless she’s hiding deliberately. And she’s not in the garden, or the Seatons’ garden either. I searched there thoroughly.’

  Rob strode into the house and yelled, ‘Mia! If you don’t come out right now, you can forget about having a dog.’ Silence, apart from his own heavy breathing.

  ‘She’s not here.’ Phoebe pulled him to the door. ‘Let’s look on the cliff path. I’m sorry, Rob. She must have slipped out when I was in the shower.’

  They arrived at the path along the clifftop, but mist was masking the view in both directions.

  Rob swallowed. ‘Got your phone? Okay, run as fast as you can for five minutes. I’ll go the other way. Then we’ll call.’

  He dashed along the narrow pathway towards St Ives, leaving Phoebe to take the opposite direction. It was more likely Mia would head into town, but – why would she take it into her head to go walking on the clifftops in the mist? Rob ran swiftly but steadily at a pace he could keep up. Waves were crashing on the beach below; those rocks… Jagged, merciless spurs… If Mia fell over the cliff here, she’d be a goner. There were no trees and bushes to break her fall. Bile rose in his throat and he stopped and spat, hands braced on his knees.

  ‘Mi – a!’ He had never yelled like that. On, on, he had to save his breath for running. When the five minutes were up, he stopped. The view was clearer now; weak sunshine was chasing the mist back and the path was stretching several hundred yards in front. With no small girl hurrying to town. This was useless.

  His phone buzzed.

  ‘She’s not here,’ said Phoebe. ‘The mist’s cleared; she definitely hasn’t come this way.’