by Nina Bawden
“You’re being generous, Mr Fowles,” Laura’s father said. “Of course, if you find yourself out of pocket, I expect the estate will refund you.”
“Hmm. Well. There is the little matter of the few small things I took from the house. I felt entitled, her only surviving relative, but it seems the law may look at it differently.”
Laura’s mother said quickly, “I’m sure that will be all right, Mr Fowles. Won’t it, George? Though I suppose it isn’t up to us, really. I mean, you said, only surviving relative. Do you mean that you think Mrs Angel’s daughter is dead?”
“She may be,” Mr Fowles said, speaking heavily, the lugubrious tone back in his voice again. “On the other hand, she may not.”
Laura’s mother and father looked at each other. Signals passed between them that Laura could not interpret. She stayed quiet and still, hardly breathing.
Mr Fowles said, “Dorothy, her name was. Or is, as the case may be. Dorothy Angel. Unless she has changed it. Poor old Dorothy, tied hand and foot to her mother, not an easy life at her beck and call. No one else to carry the burden. I can’t stand it, Eric, she said to me more than once. I said, why not clear off? But she’d shake her head. She was a good soul, not a match for that old devil, her mother. I was fair took aback, I can tell you, when she went in the end, walking out one morning with nothing except what she had on her back, and not a word from her after.”
“Do you know where she went?” Laura’s mother was leaning forward, her body tense, her face anxious.
Mr Fowles sucked his brown teeth. “Know is pitching it strong. Guess? Well, maybe. There was a man she knew at the hospital. An Indian doctor. If her mother knew that, it wouldn’t have pleased her. A coloured bloke. Any bloke, come to that. Dottie was in her late thirties by then, the old cow must have reckoned she had her tied down, a slavey for life. Dottie would never have had the guts to stand up to her mother, so she took the easy road and bunked off. I hope that’s what happened, I must say. I was fond of old Dottie. That’s why I never said a word to her mother.”
Laura’s father cleared his throat. “Have you told your solicitor?”
“He didn’t ask. Only if I knew where she was now, and I don’t. He wasn’t keen to help me, so why should I bother? Besides, I thought I might have a word with you first. Since I’m out of the running, I can’t see any reason to queer your boy’s pitch. Eric Fowles isn’t a dog in the manger! If Dottie turns up, that’s one thing. If she doesn’t, if she’s married to her doctor and living in India, somewhere like that where she won’t see the papers, then I thought, well, we might come to some sort of arrangement.”
Laura heard her father make a strange sound, a kind of snorting laugh that changed to a cough. He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose. “Sorry,” he said. “Nothing doing.”
“Okay, Sir.” Mr Fowles sounded surprisingly cheerful. “Worth a try, though. No hard feelings!” He stood up, holding his cap to his chest again, grinning. “If you want to pass it on, the doctor’s name was Chaudhuri. Dottie only mentioned him a couple of times, and I never saw him. But after she scarpered I rang up the hospital and they said that he’d left. I could have asked where he’d gone but I didn’t. I wasn’t that interested. If my Auntie had wanted to find out she could have done the same thing, talked to the hospital, asked about, but she didn’t. Too blinking angry. That’s why I guessed she had some idea where Dottie had gone. It’s only the last couple of years she’s moaned on about her lost daughter, her terrible sorrow. At the time, the names she called her aren’t ones I’d care to repeat in front of a lady.”
Laura’s mother said, “Please, Mr Fowles. There’s something else…” She closed her eyes, as if what she was thinking was so painful she could hardly bear it. When she opened them, they were dark and troubled. She said, “Tell me… you said you were fond of your cousin so you might know… is it at all possible that she left home for another reason? Because she was pregnant and couldn’t face telling her mother? That she had the baby, and then, because she couldn’t look after it…”
“I get you,” Mr Fowles said. “That’s the story your mother was trying to feed my old Auntie!”
She put her hands to her cheeks. Her face was one burning blush. “Not really, I expect she just said there was a resemblance between your cousin and Alex. I’m sure there was nothing more to it. My mother gets romantic notions sometimes, but she isn’t a fool.”
“More of a fool than my Aunt! She may have been old, but she’d never have been taken in by that kind of rubbish. She had all her marbles! Even though I said different to start with, I knew it, really.” He looked at Laura’s mother, sucking his teeth, and then went on with unexpected gentleness, “She liked your boy, that was all. These last months, he was all that she thought of. Oh, she wanted to spite me, taunted me with it, but leaving that aside, the feeling was there. She said, the last time I saw her, such a dear child, Eric, so innocent, I’m afraid life will be hard on him. As for Dottie, she was the last person to have a baby and dump it. Last thing in the world she’d have done. Dotty about babies was Dottie!”
He laughed. Laura’s mother smiled weakly. She said, “Thank you, Mr Fowles. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t mention it.” Mr Fowles put his cap on and turned on his heel. He said, over his shoulder, as he left the room, “I shall pray for your boy.”
Laura’s father went with him. Her mother put her head in her hands. Tears leaked through her fingers. “Oh,” she said, “I’d give anything… even if she was his mother… whoever she was, if she was alive and wanted to see him, I wouldn’t mind, I could bear it, bear anything as long as he’s safe, comes safe home, nothing else matters…”
Laura watched her. For a second, she thought, She wouldn’t cry like that if it was me that was missing, only for Alex. But then she knelt in front of her, took her hands and coaxed them away from her face. She said, “Don’t cry, Mum. Please don’t cry. You’re making me cry. He’ll come back.”
She had a wonderful idea suddenly; exploding like a huge firework, brilliant sparks leaping and dancing. She said, dazzled and breathless, “Or we’ll find him! I’ll find him! I know a good way!”
Her mother said, “Oh, you darling!”
Laura sat back. She was pleased that her mother had called her darling, but she was embarrassed, too. In a minute her mother would ask her how she meant to find Alex, and she would have to tell her, and her mother would laugh. The idea wouldn’t work if her mother laughed.
But although she did laugh, it wasn’t at Laura. She said, laughing and crying together, “Laura darling, you’ve been such a comfort, I love you so much, you know that now, don’t you?”
Chapter 14
Dear Mum and Dad,
I hope you are well. I am quite well at the moment and hope to see you quite soon. I had my Post Office Book stolen and my solar calculator. I am sorry I ran away. I want to come back. The people I am staying with are quite nice but I would rather be at home. Give my love to Laura and say that I hope she found my front door key and that I hope you will let her keep it because she didn’t mean to be late home from Carla’s party so it wasn’t really fair to take hers away. Give my love to Bob and Ellie and Gran and tell Gran that I hope Major Bumpus is well. I miss everyone very much.
That was as far as he’d got. Looking over his shoulder, Jake said, “Only quite nice, are we?”
“Well, you’re not very nice or you’d let me go home and not wait for Poll to come back.”
Jake laughed and punched his back lightly. “Okay, shrimp, get on with the letter.”
“There’s nothing else to say, really. I mean, if it’s a kidnap letter, asking for ransom money, I’m not going to write about that.”
“They’d pay up, wouldn’t they?”
“It depends on how much you asked for, I suppose.”
“How much do you think?”
“I don’t know.” He looked at Jake hopefully. “It’s only a game, isn’t it?”
“That’s what you think.”
“Poll didn’t kidnap me. I asked if I could go home with her.”
“Maybe she’s changed her mind. You turned out to be a bit special. Have to wait and see, won’t we?”
Alex yawned. It seemed that he had been sitting in this small, stuffy room, lights on and curtains drawn although it was still daylight outside, for ever and ever. He thought that he ought to be scared and miserable and he had been a bit to begin with but now he was too bored to be anything much. For a while they had watched a cricket game on television and Petal had come in twice, bringing mugs of horrible coffee and egg sandwiches made with stale, white bread, stiff as cardboard. Otherwise, nothing had happened until Jake had started on the idea of writing the letter. There were no books in the room; nothing to read, nothing to do. Alex looked at his watch. He put it to his ear.
“Stopped, has it?” Jake said. He had thrown himself on the sofa, skinny legs dangling over the end, waggling one foot in time to the thump of the music coming down through the ceiling. Bill must have woken up, but he hadn’t appeared. Samson hadn’t come back. Alex wondered if Jake felt as bored as he did. He said, “No, it hasn’t stopped. It’s still only half-past eight.”
“What did you think?”
“About midnight. That’s what it feels like. Don’t you ever go out, Jake?”
“What’s there to go out for?”
“Walking, or something.”
“Walking! Catch me! ‘Sides, I’m keeping an eye on you, ain’t I? Working out how much you’re worth. That’s hard brain work. What d’you think? I expect your Mum and Dad would pay up sharp enough if we chopped off your ear and sent it along with that letter. Five thousand would be about right, I should think.” He sniggered and looked slyly at Alex. “Or would you rather we made it a finger?”
“Don’t be silly,” Alex said.
“Silly, is it? You’d laugh on the other side of your face if I did it.”
“You’d need a very sharp knife.”
“What’s this, then?” Jake took a long, slim knife out of his pocket. The blade sprang open.
Alex sighed. “If you came at me to cut off my ear, I’d throw you. A single arm shoulder throw. I learned how to do it last month in my judo class.”
“Cool, ain’t you?”
Jake was fingering his knife, pouting his lower lip, his bright, pale eyes narrowed. Putting on his dangerous face, Alex thought wearily. He said, “I’m too bored to be frightened.”
Jake chuckled. “Okay. Let’s do something, then.” He stood up, holding the knife with the shining blade pointing at Alex. “Give you a fair chance. Get yourself ready.”
“Put the knife down,” Alex said. “I’m not a black belt, only green. That’s just one up from the bottom.”
He stood in the centre of the room, waiting. Jake put the knife down on the arm of the sofa. “Don’t you touch it,” he warned. “If you do, tell you straight, you won’t live to use it.”
He darted at Alex. The next second he was on his back, on the floor. Alex held out his hand to pull him up. “It’s quite easy,” he said. “Shall I show you again?”
“No thanks, I believe you.” Jake slumped on the sofa, rubbing his shoulder.
“I could teach you a bit if you like,” Alex said. “Not that throw, you’d have to learn some of the basic things first.”
“Kid’s stuff,” Jake said. “If I’d had the knife, you couldn’t have done it. Not much use in a real fight.”
“I’ve never been in a real fight. Not with knives.” Alex thought he had better not boast. He said, “I expect I’d be too scared to do anything.”
That seemed to please Jake. He said, “Glad you got a bit of sense. Kid like you could get in dead trouble. So don’t get too cocky jus’ because you caught me in a good mood. Don’t try anything.”
“No, Jake. Will Poll be home soon?”
“Never know, Saturdays. Sometimes she goes down the pub with her mates. She gets overtime money, weekends. It burns a hole in her pocket.”
“She’ll let me go home when she does come back, won’t she?”
“Search me. You can’t tell with Poll. She gets funny ideas. She don’t like to be told what to do. And you put her in a bit of a spot, being in the news, like. So you better not ask too much, see? Just leave it to her to figure out the best way.”
“Best way for what? How long will she make me stay here? What for? She’s not really going to ask my parents for money, is she?”
“Thought I told you not to ask questions.”
Jake was scowling ferociously. He threw himself on his back and glared at the ceiling. “Turn that row down,” he shouted. “D’you hear, Bill? If you don’t, I’ll come up and fix you.”
A thud of feet shook the ceiling. The music stopped. Jake said, “Right. Bit of peace now.”
Alex said, “I’ve got to ask something. I don’t understand. It’s not fair.”
Jake was eyeing him thoughtfully. His eyes glinted. He said, “Poll’s taken a fancy to you, that’s the thing. Pretty boy, helps carry the groceries, doesn’t look the sort to go thieving. Might turn out useful. Though it ain’t only that.” He chewed on his lower lip. “Bill was a pretty boy once.”
Alex said, with horror, “You can’t steal children and make them go thieving! That’s the sort of thing that happens in books.”
“Mebbe old Poll’s read a book or two in her time. But I told you that wasn’t the whole of it. Poll don’t do anything, like, deliberate. Jus’ goes along with what happens. People come an’ go, sometimes she likes them to stay. And she wouldn’t be stealing you from your Mum and Dad, would she? They adopted you, like stealing you from someone else, wasn’t it?”
“That’s not the same thing at all, I was found,” Alex said. He was terrified suddenly. He didn’t believe the things Jake was saying but he knew now why Petal was scared of him. Jake was clever. He hadn’t been able to frighten Alex with his dangerous flick-knife, so he had thought of another way. He said desperately, “But she can’t keep me here, keep me prisoner! That’s against the law. They’ll find out, the police will find out, and she’ll go to prison!”
Jake was smiling. “The police aren’t so smart! Hundreds of kids disappear every year. They don’t find them, do they? What makes you think you’re so special?”
“I’m not…” Alex stopped. There was no point in arguing. It was a sort of game Jake was playing but there were no rules except the ones that he made and he changed them as he went along. He was tormenting Alex because he was bored, making up lies about ransom notes and child stealers to frighten him. And that wasn’t the worst thing. The worst thing was that no one in this house seemed to be sensible. If they were sensible people they would ring up his parents and let him go home. Even when Poll did come back, they might just sit around doing nothing except play silly games, keeping him here for ever and ever.
He said, “If you don’t let me go, I’ll scream. I’ll scream and scream…”
And, to his own amazement, he did. He opened his mouth and the sound seemed to come leaping out as if it had been blowing up like a great gust inside him, a shrill, whistling and wobbling scream, like a siren. He screamed and screamed and the scream turned into words. Let me go, let me go, LET ME GO.
His head was full of noise. A long way away, faint and distant, he could hear other sounds, voices shouting. He stood stiff and straight, eyes screwed tight shut, yelling louder and louder to drown the voices outside of him until his throat hurt, his mouth dried. Then someone was lifting him. He kicked, flailed his arms, but strong hands were holding him, shaking him, and at last his strength went and he hung limply between them.
Chapter 15
“There was this preacher,” Laura said. “In a tent on the Fields, at the time of the Easter Fair. Alex and I went to the Meeting. They were all praying, but it wasn’t like an ordinary church. They were waving their arms about and calling out names, asking the Lord to help them find missing people. I thought
if we could find him, find the preacher, I mean…”
Her voice faltered. They were all looking at her so sadly; her mother and father, her grandmother and Major Bumpus. Though the Major looked more thoughtful than sad, Laura decided, his bright blue eyes fixed intently upon her. Gran had seen Mr Fowles leave the house and had come to see what had happened, introducing the Major. “Monty is very experienced,” she had explained, without saying what he was experienced in. Perhaps, Laura thought, she had wanted him for protection. Mum wouldn’t pick a quarrel while the Major was there. Not that she seemed in the mood for quarrelling, just at the moment. She was sitting next to Gran on the sofa and holding Gran’s hand.
She said, “Laura, darling, I don’t think…” Her voice faltered, too.
Major Bumpus said, “A trifle far-fetched, maybe. But no point in leaving any stone unturned in this situation. Boy runs away, that’s one thing. Boy stays away, that’s another. Though whether…” He stopped abruptly. “Sorry,” he said. “You don’t want an old buffer like me shooting his mouth off. Amy asked me to come, and I’m willing, of course. Any help I can offer. But not interference. Last thing you want at this juncture is interference from strangers.”
“You’re not a stranger, Monty,” Laura’s grandmother said. “You’re one of…” She blushed a little. “That is, a friend of the family.”
“Harrumph,” Major Bumpus said. “Thank you, Amy.”
“We’re glad to have you here,” Laura’s father said. “The more help the better. If only we could think where he might have gone. We’ve asked all his friends at school, obviously. Other boys in his judo class. Neighbours. We’re at our wits end where to turn now.”
“Perhaps Laura’s right,” her grandmother said. “Perhaps we should pray. Faith can move mountains.”