Ten Missing Children

by Antony J Woodward

  “Put your washing in the basket,” Terry prompted with a flick of his head.

  “Can we watch cartoons?” Christine arrived in the kitchen.

  “Washing…?” Terry gave her a knowing look.

  “Oh…” she huffed dramatically and took off back upstairs.

  “We sitting at the table?” Bridget asked as she went for the cutlery drawer. Terry nodded, unwrapping the last meal. “Was you fish or pie?” he asked.

  “Fish,” she answered taking three forks out of the drawer.

  He handed her the appropriate dinner and set his attention to the kettle.

  The tea bag had barely been submerged before Christine jumped back into the kitchen. In her arms was a scrunched up pile of dirty clothes. It seemed to be missing a particular royal blue jumper. “…Your uniform kiddo?” he reminded.

  Her face contorted and she glanced to the pile in her arms. Obviously she thought she’d brought it.

  “Never mind, get it after. Get your tea and be careful, don’t drop it…” he pointed to the pie and chips sat on the pink plate.

  “We not watching cartoons?” She whined dramatically.

  He slowly titled his eyes to her and she got the answer without him moving his lips. She padded to the dining table.

  “Can I have a pepsi?” Bridget asked tentatively. Terry wrung the tea bag out and considered it. “…Yeah, get one for your sister too.”

  Bridget was up in a flash and in the fridge. She returned to the table with two cans of ice cold pop.

  Two cans of Matt’s ice cold pop.

  Pop was something of a rarity for the kids, because neither Matt or Terry believed it was healthy. It was good for a treat and that was all. Terry was very aware that Matt drinking it was a case of double standards, but Matt’s argument was he was the parent and he got to make the rules. And break them. Terry made a reminder to check how many he had left, he wouldn’t hear the end of it if Matt was left with none in the fridge.

  Terry took his seat at the table with his lemon tea, pie and chips.

  “Got any homework?” Terry enquired as Bridget took a savouring slurp of her cola.

  “A little, Geography…” she answered with very little enthusiasm.

  Terry nodded but he wasn’t enthusiastic himself. He’d hated Geography when he was a kid.

  “When’s the school trip?” Terry moved the conversation.

  “Next Friday,” Bridget’s face lit up a little. She was looking forward to visiting whatever castle it was. She was quite the history buff.

  “When’s mine?” Christine asked ramming a whole chip in her mouth as she spoke.

  Terry shrugged. He didn’t know, he knew there was one coming up but he couldn’t say when. He lacked the mental organiser to keep track of all these dates and events.

  “Meliah’s not going to ballet on Saturday,” Christine announced in a matter of fact tone. Both Bridget and Terry looked at her, surprised just where that had come from.

  “…And?”

  “She’s going horse riding, her mummy bought a horse…” Christine wasn’t even look at them, she was commanding an unwieldy fork onto a chip.

  Terry braced himself. “…And?”

  Christine shrugged, “Can I go too?”

  “Did she ask you?”

  “No. But you can borrow a horse!”

  Her attention finally lifted and she looked sweetly at Terry. Her best ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ look.

  “Not this time darling, me and Daddy have just spent all that money for ballet lessons,” he answered. It was another white lie, they paid six quid every Saturday for Christine to ‘learn’ ballet. It was more six quid for Christine to run around having fun in a tutu than it was a real lesson.

  “Maybe for my birthday?” Chris enquired brightly.

  “…Yeah maybe…” Terry agreed. Her birthday was six months away, chances were high she’d have forgotten about it by then.

  “How’s Shannon?” Terry turned his attention to Bridget.

  “She’s good.” She shrugged not knowing what to say.

  “Is she home yet?”

  Shannon was one of Bridget’s closest friends. She had recently undergone serious surgery, having a kidney transplant. She was a nice, polite and sensitive kid. Had been a pleasure on the rare few times she’d slept over. Terry could still recall the thorough medical emergency briefing her mother had given him. The kidney transplant was just one of many hitches in the kid’s life, the worst was she suffered epilepsy on top of everything else. It was heartening to see the kid’s spirit unfazed by the list of medical diagnoses in her life.

  If you ever needed inspiration to deal with the shit life threw at you that girl was the perfect example. If she could do it, then there was no excuse for anyone else.

  “When she going to be back at school…?”

  “Next week,”

  “Want to see her on Saturday?”

  Bridget nodded enthusiastically. “Please,”

  “Then get Shannon to ask her mom if that’s ok, and then maybe we’ll call in and get her some flowers to cheer her up.”

  “Can I go?”

  Bridget’s expression shifted, for a split second she feared her younger sibling would be joining her and cramping her style. “No Chris, you’ll be going to ballet,”

  “Oh yeah,” Christine giggled. Bridget almost sighed loudly in relief.

  “Guys?” The woman’s voice preceded the shutting of the front door.

  “In here!” Bridget called. Terry watched his mother-in-law come in carrying two large carrier bags. She was a short, but strong woman. Regal in her dress sense, regularly seen outside anything but a pantsuit. Today’s was violet and there wasn’t many women who could pull that off. Her grey hair swept up into a do, clipped with a broche. A little fancy neck scarf disguised the ample bosom she had. Her youthful face lit up at the sight of the girls and Terry.

  Terry threw a chip in his mouth and stood up. He intercepted Denise, trying to relinquish her of the bags. “I’ve got it!” She batted him away, “go eat your tea!”

  She flustered her way into the kitchen and Terry took his seat once more. He knew better than to argue with her.

  “Hello girls! Did you have a good day at school?” She heaved a bag onto the counter.

  They both answered her in unison, “yes Nanna.”

  “Good, oh I saw Shannon’s Nana in Asda today, said she’s doing really well. She’s home,” Terry continued to eat and watch as the woman began opening his fridge.

  “I know Nana, she came home at the weekend,”

  “Oh! Last to know, as per!” She retorted with a cheeky wink at the trio.

  “We got some new shoes today Nana!” Christine excitedly announced.

  “Did you?”

  “Yup, and they glow too!”

  Denise froze, then she slowly turned to Christine in mock-shock. “Really?! No way!!” For a woman who was in the comfort of her late sixties, she had the energy threshold of a twenty-something. That’s probably where Christine got it from herself.

  Chris giggled, displaying a half chewed chip mashed around her teeth as she did so.

  “I got one of those pies…” Denise brandished a white bag quickly before depositing it in the fridge.

  “Pies…?”

  “Oh you know, everyone has been raving about them on Facebook! That butchers in town sells them, Porky’s or something, I forget the name, they’re difficult to get! Sold out whenever I’ve tried before!”

  Terry wondered whether his mother-in-law had queued for this pie, he could almost picture her starting the queue in the early hours of this morning. She was one of those types, if the bee got in her bonnet.

  “Right…” He still didn’t understand why she took it upon herself to do food shopping for them. It was just something he accepted, because fighting it would’ve been futile and he knew it. He suspected it was her way to be included in their lives, to have a purpose once again.

  “So keep it
till we’re all together, I’d like to try it,” she began packing a fresh pack of Pepsi into the fridge. Terry scratched the reminder from his mental list. Matt’s mother had bought him some pepsi, now there was no fear of him being left with none.

  “Finished,” Christine announced. Terry recoiled, her plate was empty. She had something like six chips rammed in her mouth but by all accounts she had indeed finished her dinner. It wasn’t the first time he wondered just where she put it.

  “Put your plate in the sink,”

  She nodded, her cheeks bulging like a hamster.

  “Can I watch cartoons now?” she asked. Or that was what Terry estimated from a mouth filled with chips.

  He nodded.

  “Fank fu” she leapt from the table and began to head for the TV.

  “Plate!” Terry reminded.

  She spun effortlessly mid-stride and put her plate in the sink.

  Denise snuck a sneaky kiss in as her grandchild crossed her path. Then as Chris charged to the TV, Denise came to sit at the table.

  “How you doing sweet?” She asked Bridget, dramatically pinching a chip as she did so.

  “Did you want something to eat?” Terry jumped in.

  “I’m good thanks, Matt working late…?”

  Terry nodded. It was a recurrent fact of their life at the minute.

  “You okay?” The question threw Terry for a moment. For a second he didn’t know where it came from. Had he looked wounded?

  “I’m alright,” he answered after a seconds hesitation.

  Was he? Yes and no. He missed his husband but he was also aware that it was part of the cop-spouse life. Long hours and periods of absence, that was all familiar territory.

  Denise, with a cheeky flair for drama, idly pinched a second chip off her granddaughter.

  “Ice skating on Sunday still?” she shot her attention to Bridget, chewing the chip with dramatised delight.

  “Yes Nana,” Bridget laughed.

  Ice skating at sixty-seven… Terry wasn’t sure whether he should be jealous of her energy or be worried she was going to break a hip. “That good for you kiddo…?” She hollered to Christine.

  Christine nodded, rendered mute by the cartoons.

  Bridget finished her meal, then took her plate to the sink.

  “Let your sister watch cartoons for an hour, then you can have an hour on the Xbox…”

  Bridget nodded gratefully. She took herself into the front room to accompany her sister.

  “Tea?” Denise asked.

  “Got one,” Terry stood with his own plate, “I’ll make you one. Black tea?”

  “With one sugar sweetheart, I’m just going to have a smoke,” she took herself out onto the patio. As Terry waited for the kettle to boil he washed the dishes. Then he took the drink out to Denise. He entered an ending conversation between Denise and Lee.

  “Evening Terry,” Lee greeted as he stepped back inside.

  He was a smoker. Billie was not. He was under the same rules as Denise.

  “Evening Lee,” Terry tipped his head in passing as he handed the black tea to Denise.

  “How’s Cheryl’s wedding coming along?”

  “…Oh don’t ask,” Denise groaned. She took a puff on her cigarette and slurped on her tea. It was scalding hot but it didn’t appear to affect her asbestos lips.

  “…Damian’s got his knickers in a twist about the cake. He’s suddenly remembered that his cousin is allergic to white-chocolate and the baker is on holiday so he doesn’t know if they’re gonna get the order changed in time…” she sighed.

  Terry smiled and took a seat on the garden bench. The garden was pretty, he had Lee to thank for that. The old man had jumped at the chance to decorate the garden, in fact he had taken a great delight in it. They now had a pretty lawn with a beautiful border full of flowers that Terry wouldn’t even know to look at. It was magnificent, and as Terry stressed, easy to maintain.

  He enjoyed sitting out here, he was looking forward to when the English summer rain had passed and he could enjoy it more.

  “…Then Siobhan, the eldest, has lost twelve pounds and now they’re worried the dress won’t fit. It’s a clusterfuck to end all clusterfucks…”

  “…Don’t they get married next month? Seven weeks or something…?”

  “You would think they’re getting married tomorrow…”

  Cheryl was Matt’s sister and she was a drama-magnet if ever there was one. Her fiancée was equally as a dramatic. Hell, they were just one huge family of drama. Matt tended to keep his distance because the drama had a way to seep into your own life.

  Terry sometimes suspected that Denise used his and Matt’s family as something of a haven. They were relatively straightforward, minimum fuss.

  “…It’ll all work out,” Terry smiled.

  “It has to. I’m sinking a load of cash into this…” she sighed.

  Denise wasn’t rich beyond all desires, but she was pretty well off. She was comfortable, having spent a lifetime saving efficiently and strategically. Plus the divorce from her second husband had paid off handsomely. She often remarked his cheating on her was the best thing she ever did financially.

  It was an unspoken fact that Denise felt a little betrayed by Matt and Terry’s wedding. She’d not known about it till a week before, the pair of them deliberately dropping it on her long after it was paid for. It had been something the pair of them had chosen to save for. Matt’s choice especially because he had let his step-father contribute to his first wedding.

  “Well at least they sorted out the affair thing,” Terry added.

  “Oh don’t… I never want to go through that again. I’m sixty fucking seven, I don’t want to be a go between for two twenty year olds… He said, she said… God…” she groaned. Her cigarette had finished. She sparked up another.

  “Anyway, you don’t mind me taking kids ice skating on Sunday do you?”

  “No, not at all. I don’t know what Matt’s doing anyway…”

  “The case getting heavy…?”

  Terry nodded, he felt his composure sag a little.

  “Chin up kid, he’ll get there. He’s worked them out before…”

  Terry didn’t have the heart to tell her that this time it was looking incredibly unlikely. This might just be the one case that detectives all talked about, that one case you couldn’t ever solve.

  Only that wasn’t going to do. Not with seven kids mysteriously abducted.

  CHAPTER TWO:

  It was late, some undetermined point in the darkness of night, when Matt came home. Terry rose from some plane of sleep to feel the tell-tale weight of another body climbing into bed. With a shuffle of bed sheets, a cold body enveloped itself around him and began to steal all the warmth Terry had accumulated. He could smell shower gel and mint toothpaste as this body pulled him into an embrace.

  “What time is it?” He whispered, his voice croaking a little.

  “3am…” Matt kissed his shoulder.

  Matt was larger framed than Terry, so he made the perfect big spoon. He was handsome, the most handsome guy Terry had ever met. He wasn’t saying that just because he was married to him, he honestly meant it. Sometimes he would catch himself staring at Matt and be mute with the disbelief that he was married to the most gorgeous human being in existence. Matt was broad, large muscular shoulders from a somewhat unhealthy relationship with the gym. The gym while it had gifted Matt with an incredibly muscular and sexy physique had also become Matt’s bad habit. He used it as a private place to think, an activity he could focus and sharpen his mind on. The more obsessed he became with a case, the more he hit the gym. It was an inversion of the rules that the more stressed Matt got, the better he looked for it. Minus the bloodshot eyes of course.

  He had an attractive short haircut, a pseudo-Mohawk off to one side. His hair was mousey-brown, his daughters had inherited it from him, and he had rich brown eyes. He had the sort of handsome face that looked good with or without facial hair. Sometim
es a five o’clock shadow gave him a sexy brooding appeal and Terry would find his physical attraction spike.

  He had a few tattoos itself, a few choice carefully selected pieces. Out of the five he had, Terry had personally inked three of them. One, a date on his left breast, was how he and Matt had originally met. This handsome man had wandered into the tattoo parlour one day and chance brought the two of them together. They hit it off instantly, their chemistry was nice and easy. They initially became friends before a romantic relationship blossomed. That had been four years ago.

  They’d been married for nine months.

  Living together for three years.

  Hell, they’d been a family unit for three years.

  It had initially been difficult and awkward, as it was bound to be. The girls not only had to wrap their head around Terry coming into their lives, in his tattooed and unconventional glory, but also that he was now dating their father. Christine had took to it easily, but she was a lot younger. She wasn’t even at school when Terry became a permanent part of their lives. Bridget hadn’t fared the same, initially she’d resisted. She’d mistakenly blamed Terry for her parent’s split, but the truth was Terry had come along after the split. Their mother, Lisa, had split from Matt and then disappeared on them all. After a year or so, eventually Matt tracked her down to a rehab centre in Wales where she agreed to divorce him.

  It had never been Terry’s idea, he’d always felt a little uncomfortable about it himself. He didn’t want to feel like he was replacing her. The entire thing was complicated, a bizarre no-man’s land of relationships and familial societal rules.

  Lisa signed the custody of the kids over to Matt and they’d rarely seen her since. Quite what happened to her nobody actually knew. Matt’s recollection of the relationship was a happy one until one day she just abruptly packed her bags and vanished. Even now, four years later, he still didn’t know what happened. Terry had met her a couple of times and she was certainly an odd character. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was about her, but she just felt very flighty.