The Boy in the Photo

by Nicole Trope

  Her mother had tried to reassure her that it was all just hot air and anger from Greg, that all he was doing was trying to scare her and that she shouldn’t take any notice of him at all. But Megan worried that it was more than that, that Greg was angry enough to do something to really hurt her or Daniel.

  ‘Hang in there, babe,’ says Olivia, dragging her away from her thoughts. ‘He’ll find someone else to control soon enough. There’ll be some young thing who has no idea what he’s really like, and she’ll be swept off her naive feet.’

  ‘Just like I was. Poor thing,’ Megan says, thinking about the charm of Greg’s attention and flattery, his beautiful eyes, his ability to make her feel like the luckiest woman in the world. ‘I imagine she’ll be swept away by the smile and the sports car as well. I feel like I should warn her.’

  ‘Not your problem. Oh, hey, Max.’

  ‘Hi, Max,’ Megan says to the dark-haired little boy. ‘Where’s Daniel?’

  Max shrugs. ‘Mum, did you know that an ant can carry ten to fifty times its body weight?’

  ‘Really?’ Olivia smiles. ‘Fascinating. I’d better get him home and changed, Megs. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

  Megan waves goodbye to Olivia and Max and looks back at the kids pouring out of the school. The stream has slowed to a trickle now. Megan sighs. Daniel will be somewhere staring at a bird in a tree or an overfull rubbish bin or a piece of paper scrunched up on the floor. He dawdles and wanders, finding everything he sees fascinating, if he’s not with Max, who hurries him along. Megan waits, tapping her foot. When the high-school students start funnelling out ten minutes later, her irritation grows.

  She sighs, giving up on waiting. She walks into the school, drawing curious glances from any teenager who can be dragged away from their phone.

  It takes her ten minutes to cover the primary school, walking quickly and peering into any unlocked classrooms. When she finds herself back where she started, panic starts to rise inside her. She does another lap of the school, panting and sweating, fear making her mouth dry. Daniel is nowhere. Primary-school students are not allowed onto the high-school section of the school, and regardless of what might have caught his attention, Daniel would not have disobeyed that rule.

  Muttering, ‘Where are you, Daniel?’ she runs to the administration office, bursting into the reception, startling the school secretary, Mrs Roberts, who calls the students ‘luvvy’.

  ‘My son, my son Daniel,’ pants Megan.

  ‘Ooh, darling, just calm down now, what is it?’

  ‘My son Daniel, Daniel Stanthorpe from year one. I can’t find him. I can’t find him anywhere.’

  ‘My goodness, oh my goodness. You just sit yourself down now. I’ll call… I’ll call Mr Nand. I’m sure the little mite is somewhere – you know children. Maybe he’s hiding, playing with a friend?’

  ‘No, no, no.’ Megan shakes her head vehemently. ‘I’ve looked. The primary-school kids are gone. The high-school kids are nearly all gone as well. He’s not here. He’s not anywhere.’

  Mrs Roberts picks up her phone and has a whispered conversation.

  Down the hall, a door opens and Mr Nand, the principal, strides out. ‘Mrs Stanthorpe, I understand you can’t find Daniel,’ he says. His tie is royal blue and his suit crisp and neat.

  Everything’s going to be fine, Megan thinks. ‘Actually, it’s Ms Stanthorpe,’ she says. ‘I wanted to go back to my maiden name after the divorce but Daniel…’ She shakes her head. Idiot, idiot, why are you telling him this?

  ‘I’m sorry, Ms Stanthorpe. Please don’t worry. I’m sure he’s somewhere. He’s a bit of a dreamy one, quite the little artist. Maybe he’s in the art classrooms at the high school. I know the final year students are having a display of their work this afternoon.’

  Relief floods through her. ‘Of course, of course.’ She smiles.

  ‘I’ll just see if I can get hold of his class teacher; maybe she knows where he might be. And Alice, could you call up to high-school reception? See if the lad is just getting some inspiration.’

  ‘Oh, yes, yes I’ll do that.’

  Megan sags in her chair while Mr Nand looks up the mobile number for Daniel’s class teacher.

  ‘Oh, Jenny, yes hello, it’s Peter. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about but Ms Stanthorpe is here, Daniel’s mother. She can’t find Daniel.’

  Megan watches Mr Nand nod once, twice, the office lights glinting off his rimless glasses. ‘Yes… yes, I understand. Okay, I’ll tell her. Just keep your phone on and nearby, will you, in case we need to speak again.’

  ‘Ms Stanthorpe, Ms Abramson said that Daniel was picked up by his father at the end of the day. She said your hus— ex-husband was standing outside the classroom when the final bell rang. Daniel seemed really pleased to see him and she assumed that he had arranged with you to fetch him.’

  ‘Oh,’ says Megan because she cannot think of anything else to say. ‘Oh.’

  She pulls out her phone and calls Greg. She waits for it to go to voicemail and leaves a cheery message, straining to sound normal. ‘Hey, Greg, it’s me. I didn’t know you were picking up Daniel. Give me a call, okay, so I know what time you’ll have him home.’ Then she rings his landline at the flat he has only just leased. ‘This number is no longer in service. Please check the number before calling again.’

  She calls his mobile again. Voicemail. She rings the landline again after double-checking the number. ‘This number is no longer in service. Please check the number before calling again.’ She does this for ten minutes, one number after the other while Mr Nand and Mrs Roberts watch her. Fear clawing at her, she looks up at the principal. ‘He wasn’t supposed to pick him up. He’s not answering the phone and it says his landline’s not in service anymore. I think… I think I need to call the police.’ She can feel the thrum of her heart in her neck and beads of sweat prickling her body. She takes a deep breath, trying to stop herself from panting. Daniel, Daniel, Daniel, repeats inside her head.

  ‘Oh, surely not,’ says the ever-optimistic Mrs Roberts.

  ‘Call the police, Alice. Tell them we have a missing child. Tell them it might be a case of parental abduction.’ Mr Nand’s face is grave. He fiddles with his tie. ‘I’ll check the procedure on this,’ he says before going back to his office.

  ‘There’s a procedure for this?’ asks Megan, looking at Mrs Roberts as she puts down the phone.

  ‘Oh yes, luvvy. You know there’s a lot of divorce about these days and it can get a little complicated. The police are sending over two constables. They’ll be here soon.’

  Megan drops her head into her hands. ‘One day you will know what this pain feels like,’ she hears Greg say, taunting her.

  ‘What have you done, Greg?’ she whispers. ‘What have you done?’

  She looks up again. ‘Thanks. I’ll just call my mum. I’ll tell her to go to my apartment and wait in case they turn up.’

  ‘There you go, I’m sure that’s exactly what will happen.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m sure,’ Megan replies robotically before going outside to stand in the afternoon sun. She calls her mother, Susanna; she explains once, explains twice. She struggles to get the words out, to make sense, as though just by saying them she makes what’s happening real. She takes one deep breath after another, trying to calm herself, but her heart will not be slowed, her body will not be comforted.

  ‘I’ll call Connor and James. You need to call Greg’s friends and maybe ring his parents?’

  ‘His parents are in England, Mum.’

  ‘Of course. Is there anyone in Sydney?’

  ‘He has a cousin in Adelaide.’

  ‘Well, call them then. Call whoever you can and we’ll all keep trying his mobile phone. Maybe he’ll pick up if he doesn’t recognise the number. It’s so like him to do something this selfish. He has to know that you’d be worried sick.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s exactly why he’s done it.’

  ‘Oh, Megan, I’m sure it will be
fine, don’t worry. Daniel will be safe home in bed tonight but you probably need to tell the school that Greg is never allowed to pick him up without your permission.’

  ‘Obviously I need to do that.’ Why didn’t I do that before? She has worried over every access visit Daniel has had with his father, counting the minutes until her child is home, opening her front door every time she hears voices. She has worried about the access visits but she has not thought to worry about school. How could she have been so stupid? But Greg had never, in all the years they were married, picked Daniel up from school. Not once.

  ‘Don’t snap, darling. I’m sorry, I’m just worried.’

  ‘I know, Mum. I’m sorry, I’m just worried too.’

  ‘I’ll be at the apartment in a few minutes.’

  ‘Okay, don’t forget your key.’

  Megan calls Greg’s cousin, Les, in Adelaide. She phones his friends Will and Kyle. No one has heard from him in weeks. Why wouldn’t they have heard from him? What does that mean for Daniel? He used to have a boys’ night out at least once every couple of weeks when they were married, telling her, ‘These are my best mates. I’m not just going to stop going out with them because I’m married.’

  ‘But don’t you talk to him every few days?’ she asks Kyle.

  ‘Sometimes, I just figured he was busy.’

  Busy doing what? What has he been busy doing?

  When the police constables arrive, the unreality of what she is going through makes Megan want to laugh. This can’t be happening, can it?

  ‘Can you start from the beginning?’ asks the young, ginger-haired man after he has introduced himself as Constable McGuire and his partner as Constable Wong. Megan starts at the beginning, detailing everything, focusing on the patch of ginger-blond hair on Constable McGuire’s chin that he missed while shaving this morning.

  ‘Do you have a parental order?’

  ‘We do, we signed those a couple of months ago. Greg is supposed to have him every Saturday night.’

  ‘And is that all?’

  ‘Yes.’ Megan feels judged by the constable. She can see him deciding that she has been difficult about visitation, that she wants to keep Daniel away from his father. A bubble of frustration rises inside her.

  ‘It’s what he wanted, what he asked for,’ she explains, feeling the need to justify herself. ‘I thought it wasn’t much but he said he has to work so he can’t see him during the week.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ says the constable. Megan can see him taking sides already, concluding that she’s just an angry mother whose ex picked her son up without permission. You have no idea.

  ‘And have you tried to contact your ex-husband?’

  Megan swallows words about the ‘bleeding obvious’ and instead turns her phone around so he can see exactly how many times she has dialled Greg’s phone.

  ‘Sorry, but I needed to ask.’

  ‘The landline’s been disconnected.’

  ‘And have you called his work?’

  ‘I… No, I didn’t think to do that.’ Hope flares in Megan at the thought that she might not be at a dead end.

  ‘What does he do?’

  ‘Something in IT… I think he markets cyber security software to big companies – at least he was doing that the last time we talked about his work.’

  ‘How long haven’t you spoken to him for?’

  ‘We’ve lived apart for a year now. We don’t exactly have polite conversations so I try to limit contact to text and email.’

  ‘And why is that? Has he ever been abusive towards you?’ Constable McGuire waits patiently for her answer while Megan considers how to explain Greg’s behaviour.

  She hadn’t thought it was abuse, even when she had physical evidence on her body. Even when she was dotted with purple and blue and yellow bruises, she had never classed it as abuse. But now that she has read more, has opened up to Olivia, she has allowed herself to admit it: it was abuse. During her marriage, she spent a lot of time questioning herself. Maybe she was just too sensitive, as Greg accused her of being. Maybe she was misinterpreting the things he was saying. Maybe she was being difficult for no reason. The sinister nature of Greg’s emotional manipulation made Megan doubt herself beyond what she thought was possible, and Greg would argue, convince her, that it was love and not abuse. And when it did get physical, it was always an accident, a mistake. Like when he grabbed her arm too tightly or prodded her with his pointed finger or shoved past her so quickly, she fell back against the wall. He had explained those times away with, ‘I didn’t mean to do that,’ or, ‘You shouldn’t have been standing so close to me,’ or, ‘You know I’m not like that.’ And so, she had dismissed even those times, had dismissed everything until finally, finally it was all too much.

  She chews on her lip as the constable studies her with watery green eyes. She knows if she answers ‘yes’ and Greg returns with Daniel, she will be accused of being paranoid. Greg will rant at her about her attempts to alienate him from his child. She can picture the scene, and despite the sneer on her ex-husband’s face, she welcomes it because it would mean that Daniel was here and safe. But if she says ‘no’, they might drag their feet. They might leave it until it is too late.

  ‘Yes,’ she finally answers the constable. ‘Yes, he was. He never wanted to get divorced. He blames me for breaking up our family.’

  Constable McGuire nods. ‘Do you have his work number? Constable Wong will give them a call. People tend to respond faster when it’s the police.’

  Megan hands her phone over to the constable, who takes it and walks towards Mr Nand’s office.

  ‘Does your son by any chance have a mobile phone?’

  Megan shakes her head, knowing that on her list of things to do for her first free day is to look into getting Daniel a mobile phone. But she doesn’t want to have to explain herself to this boy. She was going to get around to buying him a phone so they could speak when he stayed at Greg’s house without her having to talk to Greg. It was something she was going to do.

  Constable Wong walks back over to where Megan and Constable McGuire are sitting.

  ‘The human resources manager says he quit his job a month ago.’

  ‘What? A month ago? He never said anything. Why wouldn’t he have told me?’ Her heartbeat ramps up again. Something is wrong, something is wrong, something is very wrong.

  Megan watches as the constables and Mr Nand exchange glances full of meaning, as though they have been here before, seen this before. Constable McGuire looks at her with sympathy.

  Please don’t look at me like that. Tell me he’ll be home soon. Please, please, God, don’t look at me like that.

  ‘I think we need to get you to speak to a couple of our detectives from the missing persons unit. It would be best if you came into the station with me.’

  Megan stands up. So, this is real. This is happening. Greg has taken our son and disappeared. Where are you, Daniel? Where are you?

  Megan cannot remember much of the rest of the day. She knows Detective Kade has kind brown eyes and that the stripes on his blue shirt began to dance in front of her eyes when exhaustion took over.

  The first thing she had done, as the detective listened in, was to call Audrey and William, Greg’s parents in the UK.

  ‘Audrey, Audrey, it’s me, it’s Megan,’ she had started.

  ‘Megan who?’

  At any other time, Megan would have laughed at Audrey’s banal attempt to put her into her place, to make her understand that she was no longer part of the Stanthorpe family, but at that stage she had been trying to control her own growing hysteria and had responded sharply, ‘You know who I am, Audrey. I’m calling because I need to know if you’ve heard from Greg at all. He’s picked Daniel up from school and I can’t get hold of him.’

  ‘What do you need to get hold of him for? He’s fetched his son from school. I should think most women would be grateful to have an involved husband – sorry, ex-husband.’

  ‘Audrey, I can�
��t explain it all to you now but he wasn’t supposed to collect Daniel. The police are looking for them and I need to know if Greg has called you, if he’s told you anything.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure whatever conversations take place between me and my son are private, Megan. You no longer have any right to know what Greg is thinking.’

  Megan had sighed in exasperation. ‘I have a right to know because he has my son, Audrey. This is very serious. The police are involved. Greg is going to get into a lot of trouble if he doesn’t bring Daniel home to me now. I need you to call him and tell him he has to bring my son back.’

  ‘I will do no such thing. How do I know you’re not making all this up just to cause trouble? I know about you, Megan, you and your family of meddlers, always trying to hurt my son. I don’t know who you think you are, but you certainly can’t call here threatening me with the police and expect to get any help.’

  Megan had opened her mouth to reply but Audrey had already hung up the phone. The detective had tried to call back, hoping that Greg’s mother would respond to a different number and the voice of a policeman, but Audrey wouldn’t answer the phone.

  Megan had closed her eyes and been able to see her former parents-in-law sitting at their tiny kitchen table over a pot of tea and exactly two slices of toast each. She knew that Audrey would take a sip of tea, then dab her mouth with a linen napkin and pat her grey hair that was tightly scraped back into a bun. She knew there would be very little conversation about what had just happened except for William occasionally saying something like, ‘The nerve of that woman.’

  After that there had been forms to fill in, which she did to the tune of Detective Kade’s tapping pencil – a sound that had set her on edge and eventually made her ask him to stop.

  ‘Sorry,’ he’d said, his brow furrowed as he ran his hands through his chocolate-brown hair. At some stage, a recovery order had to be handed to the court in which she detailed why Daniel needed to be returned to her. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ she’d asked. ‘I’m his mother.’