funny â or clever.â Mark Riversdale was confronting Jason and Kirsty in the kitchen of The Nest. âNot telling me heâd gone â again,â he said in disgust. âHow infantile can you get.â
Neither of the teenagers said a word but glanced at each other. After a pause Mark carried on. âI suppose heâs gone off again.â He wagged an index finger at them. âWhere does he get to when he sets off like this?â
Again, neither of them spoke.
Mark sighed. âWell, at least tell me this â and I expect the truth. When did you last see him?â
Jason heaved a long sigh. Wherever he was Dean would be safe now. He, Jason, had bought him twenty-four hours to get where he was going. Covering for him wouldnât help. He gave a quick glance at Mark Riversdale, and saw the warden was furious. âYesterday morning, sir,â he said.
âSo he could have been gone a day and a half. Thirty-six bloody hours. Where?â
âI donât know.â
The warden looked sceptical. âYou know,â he growled. âYouâre just not telling. Where is he?â
The boy shrugged his shoulders. âDonât know, sir,â he repeated mechanically.
Mark gave a loud sigh and a groan. âMore damned paperwork,â he said. âI really thought heâd stop absconding. I gave him a talking to last week. I thought weâd connected. Heâs disappeared less in the last year. I was a fool to imagine heâd settle down. Kirsty,â he appealed, âwhere is he?â
As the girl stared at the floor he coaxed her.
âCome on, love â you can tell me.â Then his patience snapped. âKirsty, when did you last see Dean?â
âYesterday morning,â the girl said. âEarly. I think he left early â before I was up anyway.â She shrugged her shoulders and blinked. âI didnât actually see him go.â
âWhy didnât you tell me? You know Dean has been in trouble for absconding.â He bit his lip. âAnd I suppose he wasnât at school today?â
Both teenagers shook their heads. There was no point trying to cover for him. Rivers would soon ring the school and find out he had skipped it.
Mark Riversdale paused before leaving the kitchen. âWhat Iâd like to know is where does he get to on these jaunts? Who looks after him? Someone does ... someone gives him things. They canât all be nicked ...â
As the door closed after him Jason looked at Kirsty. âSue Whalley told me they found a body on the moors early this morning. It was a boy. Her dad told her. Heâs a copper.â His eyes grew round and frightened. âWhat if itâs Dean?â
âHah.â Kirsty gave an explosive, disdainful sound. âIt wonât be âim. It wonât be the nipper. I never knew a kid what could look after âimself better Dean ââe always lands on âis feet. Bloody clever -for a little un.â
Kirsty had a small, heart-shaped face, pale with freckles, but her prettiness was marred by a thin, mean mouth with an ugly twist to it. It twisted even more now. âYeah,â she said, âlands on âis feet â every time. Lucky little bleeder.â
Jason kicked the leg of the table thoughtfully. âDo you know what I fancy doinâ?â he asked.
âWhat?â The girl looked only mildly interested.
âTattoinâ little Timmy.â
âOld Man Riversâll kill you.â
The boy kicked the leg of the table even harder. âTwo more bloody years in this dump,â he muttered. âTreat us like kids they do.â
âAnd then what?â the girl asked scornfully. âTwo years â then what?â
âA place of my own ... somewhere where no oneâll interfere.â
It was the list of objects stolen that intrigued her. Why take a photograph album? Easily traced, valueless ... It was the
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