Gone Missing

by Jean Ure

  I was even less sure when I finally turned into Durden Way and discovered that where Darcy lived was a big block of flats. Tall, and grey, and forbidding. I reminded myself that this was London: this was how people lived, in London. London was where it was all at, and it was exciting!

  It was also a bit scary. Fortunately, being summer, it was still light, but I did wish Honey were with me.

  The address I had for Darcy was 3.11, Gladstone House. I’d never really stopped to think what 3.11 actually meant, but I managed to work out that 3 must be the number of the floor and 11 was the number of the flat. I felt quite pleased with myself. I hadn’t had to ask! Not that there was anyone around that I could have asked, but what I’m saying is, I’d kept my head. I didn’t panic!

  I got into the lift and pressed the button and got out at the third floor. I still hadn’t met a single, solitary person. I might as well admit it, my heart was banging like mad. I hadn’t ever been in a big block of flats before; it was a bit like a prison. How I imagine a prison. This long, dark passageway, without any windows; just endless rows of doors, and graffiti scribbled on the walls. I found number 11 and pressed the bell. What were we going to do if Darcy wasn’t there???

  But she was! I have never been so relieved in all my life as when the door opened and I saw her standing there.

  “Jade! Hey, wow, I can’t believe it!”

  I said, “Darce? Is it OK?”

  “Sure, sure! Come in.”

  I followed her inside. “I know I should have asked first, but—”

  “No prob!”

  “You did say, if ever—”

  “No problem!”

  Darcy was one of those people, she just took everything in her stride. Like I could have turned up in the middle of the night and she’d still have said “Come in.” Nothing ever fazed Darcy.

  “So what’s happened? You haven’t—” She stopped, and peered at me. “My God, you have!”

  “I have,” I said. “I’ve finally done it…I’ve left!”

  “Cool,” said Darcy. “That’s cool. About time, too! I don’t know how you stood it so long!”

  I said, “Neither do I. He just made my life impossible.”

  “I’d have done it yonks ago,” said Darcy.

  “I kept thinking about it. But then he was just so–so squalid. Like Mum wanted me to go and apologise to him, even though I hadn’t actually done anything to apologise for, but I did it anyway, I told him I was sorry—”

  “That was your first mistake,” said Darcy.

  “I wanted to keep Mum happy, but he was so horrible I couldn’t take it any more. I just grabbed my stuff and ran.”

  “Best way.”

  “But it’s all right, I’ve covered our tracks! I made it look like we’ve gone to Glasgow.” I giggled. “I’ve laid clues on the computer! I—”

  “Hang about, hang about!” said Darcy. “Who’s we?”

  “Me and Honey.”

  “Honey? Honey de Vito? Are you out of your mind? What d’you wanna go and bring her for?”

  “I had to! I couldn’t come without her. Her mum is just so mean, you have no idea! She needed to get away even more than I did.”

  “So where is she?”

  “She’s gone and done her ankle in. I’ve left her in that café place down on the main road.”

  “Soup ’n Sarnies? You’ve left her with Fat Joe?”

  “Yes. Why? He’s all right,” I said, “isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he’s just an idiot. But so’s she, so that makes two of ’em!”

  Earnestly I said, “Honey’s not an idiot, it’s just that she gets nervous and then she loses it.”

  “Yeah, yeah! Whatever.” Darcy waved a hand. “So what’s gonna happen to her? She staying with Fatso?”

  “No, I said I’d go back and get her. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “I don’t give a rat’s bum,” said Darcy. “You’re the one that’s saddled with her.”

  “What about your sister?”

  “She’s not here, she’s gone off for a few days with her bloke.”

  “She’s left you on your own?”

  “Yeah, with the baby.”

  “Baby?”

  I squawked it at her. Darcy gave this loud guffaw. “You should see your face!” She let her mouth hang open and her eyes go like dinner plates. “Baby? Not mine, you dumbo! Hers. Catch me having a baby. No thank you!”

  “So she’s left you to look after it?”

  “Yeah, worse luck. She said it’s the price I have to pay for being allowed to move in with her. It’s still a darn sight better than living with my mum. You ever see my mum these days?”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Got herself a new man, last I heard.”

  I couldn’t help feeling that it would be nice for Darcy’s mum, to have a man. A new man. The last one she’d had had knocked her about, and she didn’t deserve that. She was ever so little and thin and timid. To be honest, I never thought Darcy was that kind to her, but I didn’t ever say so. It didn’t seem my place.

  “Well—” I hesitated. “Maybe I’d better go and check on Honey, see if she’s OK. I’ll bring her back with me, yeah?”

  “Yeah, can’t wait,” said Darcy.

  I found Honey where I had left her, sitting at her table near the window, with Joe. They had their heads together and didn’t even bother to look up as I appeared. Pointedly I said, “Harriet.” That made her jump.

  “Oh!” she said. “Lucy!” And then she gave Joe this sly little look and giggled.

  I said, “Can you walk yet?”

  “It’s all right.” Joe pushed back his hair. “I’ll help her. I’ll just tell my nan. Nan!” He bellowed through a doorway. “I’m off out for a few minutes.”

  “She came back,” said Honey.

  Joe walked with us as far as Gladstone House, with Honey hanging on his arm. I wasn’t totally convinced that she needed his support, but she was obviously basking in it. I reckoned by now she’d have gone and blurted out everything, all about Darcy, and how we were at school together, and how we were going to stay in the flat with her. She was such a blabbermouth! At least old fatso didn’t come into the building with us. I think he would have done, if I’d let him, but I very firmly said that we could manage OK, now.

  “There’s a lift.”

  “Right. Well.” He looked at Honey. What I call a soppy sort of look. “You know where I am if you need me.”

  “Why should we need him?” I said, as I helped Honey across the entrance hall.

  “He was just being nice,” said Honey.

  He probably was, and I was being mean, but I was just so angry that we’d drawn attention to ourselves.

  “If he sees us on the telly,” I said, “he’ll recognise us, for sure!”

  Honey looked alarmed. “We’re going to be on television?”

  “Our pictures will be. And he’ll go straight to the police!”

  “I could always ask him not to.”

  “How can you ask him not to? You won’t be seeing him again!” I bustled her into the lift. “We’re not supposed to be talking to anybody.” Honey was so dejected that to cheer her up I told her about Darcy saying it was OK for us to be there.

  “She’s cool about it. No problem!”

  I also told her about Darcy’s sister having gone off and left Darcy in charge of the baby. Honey at once wanted to know how old the baby was, and whether it was a girl or a boy, and what it was called. I said I hadn’t asked, and she looked at me, unbelieving.

  “You didn’t ask?”

  “You can ask her yourself,” I said. “I’m not interested in people’s babies. She wants to see it,” I said, as Darcy let us in.

  “The baby? She can have it if she wants!” Darcy gave another of her cackles. “I’ll sell it to you…how much you offering?”

  “You can’t sell babies,” said Honey.

  “Wanna bet? It’s in there.” She pointed at a door. “
For God’s sake, don’t wake it up! It’s been bawling all evening, I’ve just managed to get it to sleep.”

  “Poor little thing! Babies don’t cry for no reason,” said Honey. “What’s its name?”

  “Flower.”

  I said, “Flour?”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.” Darcy rolled her eyes.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Honey.

  I didn’t know whether she meant the name or the baby. It looked like a pretty dead ordinary sort of baby to me, but then I am not what you would call an expert.

  “Now she’s here,” said Darcy, nodding at Honey, “you and me could go out, yeah?”

  I said, “Out where?” “Anywhere! I’ve got some mates live just ten minutes away. Go and see them, if you like.”

  “What, and leave Honey?”

  “Why not? She didn’t seem to mind being left with Fatso.”

  “I dunno.” I looked at Honey, doubtfully. “Would that be OK?”

  Honey swallowed. I could tell she wasn’t happy.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Darcy was an even more impatient kind of person than I was; she had what Mum calls a short fuse. I always used to try and keep on the good side of her. “Just forget about it! We’ll leave the baby here, and we’ll all go.”

  “Leave the baby?” squeaked Honey.

  “Yeah, it’s OK, we’ll only be out a couple of hours. I left it last night, nothing happened to it.”

  “You can’t leave the baby!”

  “I just told you: I did. It’s not gonna go anywhere!”

  Honey munched on her lip.

  “Look, it’s all right,” I said. “Me and Honey’ll stay here and babysit, while you go out and see your friends. We’re pretty tired anyway, aren’t we?”

  Honey nodded, eagerly.

  “OK.” Darcy shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”

  It wasn’t, especially; I’d quite like to have gone out and met people. But even I could see that it wasn’t right to leave a small baby, and I couldn’t leave Honey. Not on our first night.

  “I’ll shoot, then,” said Darcy. “Help yourselves to food and stuff. I’ll see you later.”

  She flapped a hand, and was gone. Me and Honey were on our own…

  six

  It was kind of a weird evening. We started off by looking in the fridge, but there wasn’t anything much there, just a hunk of mouldering cheese and a festering mess of something we couldn’t identify in a plastic pot, so we ended up opening a can of ravioli we found in the cupboard, and did some bits of toast. I watched television while I ate, hopping madly through the channels in case there was any news about me and Honey, but there didn’t seem to be. I guessed it was still too soon. I once read that you had to be gone forty-eight hours before you were officially classed as missing. I wondered if Dad would even have contacted the police yet or whether he would be fuming at home, waiting to chew me out. Of course, he might still be at Auntie Claire’s and not even know that I had gone. Honey’s mum would be asleep, and even when she woke she’d just think that Honey was round at my place. I thought that perhaps, after all, Honey had been right and Sunday was a good day for leaving home.

  Halfway through the evening the baby started up again. Honey cried, “Oh, the poor little thing!” and went rushing off in a frenzy to see to it. I went on channel hopping. Babies weren’t my scene, so if Honey wanted to play nursemaid that was fine by me. Just so long as I didn’t have to! A few minutes later, she reappeared, bringing the baby with her.

  “I changed it,” she said.

  I said, “What for? A different model?”

  “Its nappy,” said Honey.

  She sat down next to me, on the saggy sofa. I zapped to yet another channel.

  “Sooner you than me.” Secretly, I thought it was quite brave of her. Catch me changing babies’ nappies! I guess I would if I had to, but it wouldn’t exactly fill me with joy.

  “If this was my baby,” said Honey, “I wouldn’t go off and leave it.”

  “People have to be allowed to get away sometimes,” I said.

  “Not just to go off with a bloke.”

  “Why not? What’s wrong with it?”

  “Trusting someone like Darcy?”

  “She seems to have managed OK so far.”

  Honey looked at me, reproachfully. “She went out and left it!”

  “Only for a couple of hours. If people can go out and leave dogs, I don’t see why they can’t go out and leave babies.”

  “Because babies aren’t dogs,” said Honey.

  “Ho! Well. That’s a brilliant observation,” I said.

  I zapped back again, through the channels. Honey retreated, with her bundle, to the far corner of the sofa. I’d obviously upset her.

  “You don’t have to get all in a huff,” I said. I leaned across, trying to think of something nice to say about the baby. Nothing came to me. “It’s not very pretty,” I said, “is it?”

  “Poor little thing,” said Honey.

  “It’s actually quite ugly.”

  “That’s all the more reason for loving it!” Honey cradled it, protectively.

  I shook my head and went back to my channel hopping. Honey had always had a tendency to croon. Mostly over little furry things, such as fieldmice and moles, but sometimes not so furry things, as well. She was the only person I ever knew that rescued slugs. I wished I’d hardened my heart and gone with Darcy.

  After a bit the baby started to crumple its hands and cry again.

  “God, what’s the matter with it?” I said. “It surely can’t have done something else?”

  “I think it’s hungry,” said Honey. “Look!” She stuck a finger in its mouth and it immediately started sucking. “It is, it’s hungry! Poor little thing. It needs its bottle.”

  “It can’t do,” I said. “Darcy would have told us.”

  Honey said, “Her? What would she know?”

  “More than we do! She’s the one that’s looking after it. Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to feed it,” said Honey.

  She headed off towards the kitchen. I sprang up from the sofa and raced after her.

  “You can’t feed someone else’s baby!”

  “Yes, I can,” said Honey.

  “You can’t, you don’t know what to give it! You might give it the wrong stuff, you might–what are you doing?”

  “Take her.” She thrust the baby at me. “And stop calling her it.”

  “It’s what you’ve been calling her!”

  “Only cos you have. But it’s not right!”

  I watched in growing apprehension as Honey bustled about the kitchen.

  “I’m going to go back in the other room,” I said.

  I took the baby, still crying, and sat stiffly with it in front of the television. I wondered if Honey had gone mad. I wasn’t used to her being all bossy and overbearing; she was usually so meek.

  When she came back, she was holding a bottle.

  “Is that milk?” I said.

  “No, it’s washing-up liquid. What d’you think?” She took the baby from me and put the bottle to its mouth. Its lips closed over it, greedily. I can’t bear this, I thought. This is someone else’s baby!

  In despairing tones, I said, “I didn’t think you could give babies ordinary cows’ milk.”

  Honey stayed silent.

  “Not tiny babies,” I said.

  More silence. Growing desperate I said, “Did you sterilise the bottle? I’m sure you have to sterilise the bottle!”

  “I picked it out the rubbish bin,” said Honey. “And I told you, it’s not milk, it’s washing-up liquid.”

  Oh, God! Now she was being sarcastic.

  I said, “All right, you don’t have to come off your hinges.”

  “Well, but honestly! What d’you take me for? An idiot?”

  Humbly, I said I hadn’t realised she knew so much about babies. I said, “How come? Where’d you learn all this stuff?”

  “It�
��s just something you know,” said Honey.

  It wasn’t anything I knew, and I had a sister. Not that I could really remember Kirsty as a baby, but Honey didn’t have anyone; she was an only child. I looked at her with new respect. This was a side of her I’d never seen before.

  The baby settled once it had had its bottle. Honey took it back to its crib while I went on with my channel hopping. Anxiously, as she came back, Honey said, “Have they shown us yet?”

  “No, it’s too early. They might not even know we’ve gone! I can’t remember what time Mum and Dad were coming back from my Auntie’s, and your mum’s probably still in a drunken stupor.”

  Honey flushed. “She was asleep.”

  I said, “Yeah, well. Whatever.”

  Honey would never admit that her mum drank too much; she was incredibly loyal. I’m not sure I would have been, though I suppose you can’t really tell until it happens to you. Honey curled up next to me, on the sofa.

  “How long do you think we’ll have to stay here?”

  “Dunno. Until things work out, I guess.”

  “Work out how?”

  How would I know how? “Just…wait and see what happens.”

  “I thought we had a plan!”

  “We had a plan for getting away. After that—”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Stop keeping on! I’ve got us here, haven’t I?”

  “But what about money?”

  “We’ll get some!”

  Honey opened her mouth to say “How?” I knew she was going to say how. I thought, “I shall scream!”

  “We’ll get jobs,” I said.

  “How?” said Honey.

  Very slowly, I counted up to ten.

  “I could get a job,” said Honey. “I don’t think you could, at your age.”

  The cheek of it! I was far more competent than she was.

  “I can always pretend to be older,” I said. “I could pass for sixteen any day! You’re the one that’s likely to have difficulties…trying to buy a children’s ticket!”