by Tanya Byrne
A moment later, I heard my cellphone ringing in my room and thought it might be him so I ran to it, grabbing it and answering it with a breathless, ‘Hello?’
‘Adamma! Kedu ka i mere?’ my mother gasped, breaking into Igbo.
I told her I was fine and she was quiet for a second or two before I heard her say, ‘Thank God,’ her breathing settling as I pictured her in my parents’ big white bedroom, pacing back and forth. ‘What’s going on, Ada?’
‘Nothing, Mama,’ I told her, trying to sound nonchalant as I rested my phone between my shoulder and ear and unbuttoned my blazer. I didn’t want her to worry, especially after what had happened at the police station. ‘They think Scarlett ran off with some guy. You know what she’s like. She’ll be OK. She always is.’
‘Are you sure?’
My stomach quivered, but I ignored it. ‘Yes, Mama.’
‘That child.’ She tutted. ‘Why are the police searching the forest?’ I told her about The Old Dear and she sucked in a breath. ‘Be careful, Ada.’
‘I will. I promise.’
I heard Orla in the corridor then, crying – ‘I’m going anyway, Miss. I’ll sneak out while you’re gone. You can’t stop me’ – then slamming her door.
‘I can and I will,’ Mrs Delaney called after her. ‘One missing girl is enough.’
‘I’d better go. I’ll call you later. Ahuru m gi n’anya, nne.’
She managed to tell me that she loved me too a second before Orla flew into my room, hair everywhere, and I hung up.
‘Can you believe this?’
‘It’s bullshit,’ I told her as I unzipped my skirt. ‘But what can Crofton do? They’re not allowed to take you out of school without permission.’
‘This isn’t a school trip, Adamma!’
‘I know. But don’t give Mrs Delaney a hard time; she’s just doing her job,’ I said with a shrug, hanging my skirt back in the closet. ‘Parents are being super over-protective since Scarlett ran away. I just overheard Ella Sanderson saying that her parents are threatening to pull her out and send her to Cheltenham.’
She softened a little at that and sat on my bed with a pout as I tugged on a pair of jeans. ‘But I want to help.’
‘Keep trying to call your parents.’
‘Dad’s on a bloody submarine and Mum’s on a flight to Nice.’
‘OK,’ I said, walking over to my chest of drawers and taking out a fleece.
She saw me contemplating it and said, ‘It’s too warm for that.’
‘Yeah, but it’s me.’
‘Put it on.’
I did. ‘So. OK. France is what, a two-hour flight? Call your mother when she lands and get permission. You can do it later. We’ll probably still be there.’
‘I suppose,’ she muttered, arms crossed.
Talking to her had settled my nerves, but I still struggled to lace my walking boots. I guess she noticed, because she asked me if I was OK as I struggled with the zip on my Gore-tex jacket as well. ‘I’d better go,’ I told her, running over to kiss her on the cheek, before dashing out the door and down the stairs.
Mrs Delaney must have known that with everything that was said over breakfast, none us had eaten, so she handed a breakfast bar and a banana to each of us as we left Burnham, telling us that there would be more food there, but that if we felt faint, to let her know immediately. I wasn’t hungry, but forced mine down because she kept barking, ‘Eat, girls! Eat!’ as we walked over to the main hall, holding out her hand for our breakfast-bar wrappers and banana skins as proof that we had. Then, when we’d gathered outside the main hall, she separated us into five groups of ten by surname. I was in the third group with Madame Girard who frantically counted us four times before we’d even left Crofton.
It had rained heavily overnight, but you’d never know it, the sun was cartoon-yellow and the sky was clear. It wasn’t hot – not what I regard hot – but it was warm enough to make some girls shrug off their jackets during the walk. Even I was comfortable.
It was strange seeing Savernake Forest so busy. When I run through it in the morning I rarely see anyone. Maybe someone walking their dog, but usually it’s just me. But this morning there must have been at least a hundred people gathered on Postern Hill. Mrs Delaney kept telling us to keep together as we navigated our way through them and gathered to one side where we wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. The police were in uniform, so the rest must have been volunteers, most dressed as we were, in walking boots and waterproofs.
A small group of people had already started setting up folding tables. There was a tea urn on one, with a woman behind it, peeling the plastic from a stack of polystyrene cups. It’s such a silly thing to think, but my first thought was that Scarlett’s parents are so environmentally conscious that they would never use polystyrene cups, but then I realised it was Edith and panic licked at my palms. I wandered over to her before I could tell myself that it was a bad idea. I hadn’t seen her since her wedding so I didn’t know how she was going to react. She was thinner than the last time I saw her, but not as pale, her cheeks freckled from the sun and her dark hair threaded with gold. But that brightness had gone, her eyes dull from lack of sleep. ‘Adamma,’ she said when she saw me, running around the table to give me a hug. ‘What happened?’ she said into my hair. ‘What happened?’
Before I could answer, Mrs Delaney was next to me. ‘Miss Okomma,’ she said, so loudly that everyone around us turned around. ‘What part of stay with your group do you not understand?’ She took me by the sleeve and dragged me away so brusquely that I could only manage to mouth I’m sorry at Edith over my shoulder.
She had a long stick, I don’t know from where, and marked a cross in the mud by my feet. ‘Stand on this, Miss Okomma.’ I did with a sigh. ‘Now don’t move.’
I heard Bones before I saw him. ‘If you could gather around, please,’ he called out, holding a hand up. ‘OK,’ he said, when everyone had gathered in a clump in front of him. ‘My name is Detective Sergeant Michael Bone from Wiltshire Police. I’d like to thank you for assisting us with this search. We’ve been searching since dawn, but we still have a lot of ground to cover, so we really appreciate your help. I know it’s a Wednesday and some of you have taken time off from work and school to be here, so Scarlett’s family has asked me to extend their gratitude. They will be providing refreshments, so once everything is set up, please help yourselves and dispose of any rubbish in the bins provided.
‘A couple of basics before we start. Savernake Forest is about four thousand five hundred acres. It’s very easy to get lost so I need you to pay attention. OK?’ He waited for us to nod. ‘OK. First, there are some maps being passed around, please take one. If there aren’t enough, let me know. If you haven’t already done so, please sign in.’ He pointed towards a woman in a red waterproof coat standing behind one of the folding tables. ‘It’s kind of rough around here and muddy from the rain last night so if you don’t feel up to it, I understand. But if you are feeling up to it, thank you. If you haven’t brought any water with you,’ he pointed at Edith, who was still fussing over the cups, ‘please grab a bottle on your way out. Does everyone have a mobile?’ We all mumbled yes and he nodded. ‘Good, but I still don’t want you to go off on your own. If you are on your own, let me know and I’ll pair you up with someone.
‘OK. This is the important bit.’ He held up a hand. ‘Only search where we tell you to search. If you think you see something outside the area you have been asked to search, please tell a police officer. And while we’re telling police officers stuff, if you find anything, don’t touch it. Just report it to a police officer immediately.’ He turned to the table behind him and held up a box. ‘There are gloves for people who want them and please, please don’t forget to sign out with a police officer when you leave.
‘Any questions?’ He waited a moment, but when no o
ne said anything, he nodded. ‘Good. We’re going to be working in a straight line from here through the forest, focusing on the undergrowth. We’re looking for any clue as to where Scarlett might have gone, even knowing what way she left the forest will help, so nothing is too small. A receipt. An earring. Anything. And remember: take your time. This isn’t a race. We have plenty of volunteers. OK?’ He clapped his hands. ‘Thanks, everyone. Good luck.’
Our group of ten girls had two teachers – Madame Girard and Mrs Delaney, who hadn’t left my side – and a uniformed police officer. We worked slowly, flattening the carpet of bluebells under our feet as we kicked and poked through them, looking for something, anything. With each step, I held my breath, then let it out when I kicked a tuft of bluebells to find nothing beneath it but a leaf or a twig. Then I saw something white and my heart tumbled against my ribs as though it had fallen down a flight of stairs. Mrs Delaney must have seen me stop, because she peered down, poking at the bluebells with her stick to find a white feather and my legs went weak with relief.
‘Thank God,’ I muttered and she told me it was OK, rubbing my back with her hand. ‘I hope I don’t find anything,’ I confided in a whisper and she nodded.
We were almost finished with our first small section of the forest when the police officer with us stopped to mutter something into his radio. It had been wittering away, like a television left on in another room, and I’d been trying to listen but could only make out the odd muffled word. I stopped to listen, but was distracted by someone’s cellphone ringing. It was Mrs Delaney’s and she answered with a gruff, ‘Hello?’ then immediately softened, saying, ‘Yes. Right now? Of course. Yes.’ She took a breath, then turned to us with a smile. ‘That’s it, girls. Let’s begin making our way back.’
‘Back?’ we muttered, all at once.
‘To school,’ Mrs Delaney said breezily, trying to usher us towards the road.
I wasn’t convinced. ‘But we’ve been searching for, like, twenty minutes.’
‘Come along, Miss Okomma,’ she said, hand on the small of my back.
It took a moment for me to realise what she was saying. It was like a coin rolling into a jukebox. Rollrollroll SPLASH. Then I was running, crushing the bluebells under my boots. I didn’t even know where I was going, but when I got onto the road and saw a group of policemen at the end of it, blue and white police tape fluttering in the wind like bunting, I ran faster, faster, towards the gates, until I saw that they were open. Then Dominic was there, in front of me, arms around my waist. The force of it knocked the air right out of me and my feet left the ground, so I don’t know how he didn’t fall over, but he was solid, this wall between me and the gates.
‘Is it her?’ I gasped, trying to get past him. But he wouldn’t let me, telling me not to, to go back, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t. ‘Scarlett!’ I screamed and the force of it sent a flock of birds fleeing from the trees.
I managed to wriggle away and ran to the end of the road, under the blue and white tape and through the gates. I ran and ran, over the bluebells, frantically weaving between the trees until I saw another huddle of police officers. As I approached them, I saw something on the forest floor, something my heart recognised before I did, because it felt like it had broken into a gallop. I stopped, just as Bones broke away from the huddle. He said something, but I didn’t hear. ‘Is it her?’ I gasped, but he reached for my arm and led me away, back the way I’d just run, back between the trees, over the bluebells, lifting up the police tape with his free hand as we approached it. ‘Is it her?’ I asked again when he tugged me under it.
My head was spinning and spinning, then suddenly it stopped and my eyes lost focus as I realised what I’d seen – Scarlett’s hair spread out on the forest floor.
‘It’s her,’ I breathed, and it came back to me all at once: Scarlett by the canal, in her heart-shaped sunglasses, face tilted towards the sun. Scarlett in that red dress. Scarlett dancing with me to Fela in her big, yellow music room. Scarlett on my first day at Crofton. Come on, Alice. Don’t you want to follow the white rabbit?
Scarlett.
Scarlett.
Scarlett.
‘Take her,’ Bones said, handing me to someone as everything in me – my heart, my lungs, my bones – flew apart, hung there for a moment, then crashed into each other again with such force that I doubled over.
When I’d caught my breath, I lifted my head again to find it was Dominic. He was shaking and holding on to me tight enough to leave bruises. Or maybe, I was holding on to him tight enough to leave bruises, I don’t know. I just know that I could hear myself breathing It’s her as I lifted my eyelashes to look at him. Then I heard a scream and I don’t know how, but I knew it was her mother, and when she screamed, ‘Scarlett!’ loud and desperate, everything went black.
167 DAYS BEFORE
DECEMBER
When Hannah called this afternoon to say that Scarlett had blown out on a play she was supposed to review, I was thrilled. I mean, I’d rather it wasn’t something Scarlett couldn’t be bothered to do, but I’m not a staffer on the Disraeli so I have to take my bylines where I can get them, right? Plus, I like going into Bath, with its glossy bars and restaurants; it’s practically Manhattan compared to Ostley and it was a way out of Crofton on a Saturday night that didn’t involve having to climb down some trellis, which was no bad thing. But when Hannah told me that I had to go to the theatre by myself, my enthusiasm waned.
I guess Scarlett didn’t mind if she only requested one ticket, but I’ve never done anything like that by myself. I travel alone all the time, but there’s a thrill to that, to being fussed over by the cabin crew while I read Ovations magazine, but I’ve never done anything sociable on my own. I might have a coffee by myself, but I’ve never eaten alone and I’d rather miss a movie than see it by myself. I had hoped my parents would say no when Hannah asked for their permission, but the one time I would have welcomed them being overprotective, of course they weren’t. My disappointment must have been obvious because Hannah told me not to be silly, that even if I went with someone, we wouldn’t be able to talk during the play. She was right, but I still felt a pinch of embarrassment as I walked into the theatre alone.
I was in such a rush to get to my seat that I wouldn’t have seen him if he hadn’t said my name. I almost didn’t stop, sure that I’d imagined it because I’d been thinking about him, so when I heard him say my name and turned to find him next to me in the cluttered foyer, I still thought I was imagining it, kind of like when you stare at your phone, then it rings.
‘Miss Okomma. What a lovely surprise,’ he said with a smile that made me need to catch my breath before I could say hello back.
He’d never smiled at me like that, like he really meant it, a big, helpless smile he had no control of, the way I used to smile in school photographs before I cared that my parents were going to frame it and put it on the mantelpiece. There was an honesty to it that made me feel a bit silly, and I found myself fussing over my pashmina as I watched him tuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
I’d never seen him like that, either, so relaxed. We were away from Crofton so I guess he didn’t need to try as hard, he didn’t need to tuck in his shirt or say something to make everyone in class laugh. He could just be himself. He hadn’t shaved and he was wearing a scuffed pair of Converse and it’s such a silly thing to note – a pair of sneakers – but they were so normal. It’s not that I don’t change into my own clothes as soon as I can, but he hadn’t just worn them at Crofton to walk to the library or the dining hall, he’d worn them out, the laces grey and the canvas coming away from the soles in places. He’d been to places in them – the gas station, the supermarket, the dry cleaner’s. Normal places that I used to go to, to do normal things. It’s easy to forget that outside of Crofton – with its tartan skirts and tuck boxes and Saturday Night Film Club – people still do that sor
t of stuff.
‘Are you here for the Disraeli, too?’ I asked, hoping I sounded nonchalant.
‘No. My cousin Toby is playing Dorian.’
‘I had no idea,’ I said, smiling clumsily.
‘I mentioned it to Scarlett. She said she’d come. Have you seen her?’
When he looked around for her, my shoulders fell. That’s why she only wanted one ticket, because she was meeting him. I didn’t realise I liked him so much until I had to fight the urge to run back out of the theatre.
‘I’d better get to my seat,’ I said, my gaze falling away from his as I fussed over my pashmina again. ‘The play’s about to begin.’
He started to say something, but I didn’t wait to hear it, just turned and let myself become lost in the push of people making their way to the stalls.
With hindsight, I don’t know why I was so surprised. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed that her smiles had been more mischievous since she got back from New York, her comebacks more wicked. I thought it was just Scarlett being Scarlett, but maybe that’s when it started. Did he realise how much he cared for her when she ran away?
I felt my heart in my throat as I thought about them plotting to meet at the theatre. I don’t know why she didn’t go, I just knew that there I was, in the middle again. I stared at my ticket, unable to read the seat number as tears stung my eyes. The usher came to my aid, gesturing towards the middle of a row a few back from the stage and I sat down, my hands fisted in my pashmina as I wrapped it around me.
The middle-aged woman in the seat next to mine – who reminded me a little of Mrs Delaney – must have known I was upset, because she offered to let me read her programme and gave me a wine gum. Reading the programme helped, plus focusing on it meant that I wasn’t looking for him, so wouldn’t know where he was sitting and spend the first act glancing at him in the dark. I still thought of him, though, when I read about his cousin having been in several television shows and movies. He was also rumoured to be the next Doctor Who, which explained why the theatre was so busy. For one bitter moment, I wondered if that’s why she wanted to come, not because she liked him, but because she wanted to meet his cousin, and I felt awful. But that’s what she’s done, she makes me question everything I know about her.