Losing You by Nicci French Page A

I really hoped you’d keep the children out of it.’
    ‘Rory, if you knew the lengths I’d gone to to do just that.’
    There was a silence on the line: he’d hung up. I redialled.
    ‘Feeling better?’ he said.
    ‘Is Charlie with you?’
    ‘Would it be a problem if she was?’
    ‘Don’t mess about. We’re meant to be leaving for the airport in a few minutes. If you’ve picked her up, then – ’
    ‘Then what?’
    Deep breath. Slow deep breath.
    ‘Just drop her back. We’re in a desperate rush.’
    ‘But I haven’t picked her up.’
    ‘She’s really not there?’
    ‘Are you saying I’m lying?’
    ‘I don’t understand this,’ I said. ‘I’ve already called the police and an officer is on his way. So if – ’
    ‘What the hell are you accusing me of ?’ Rory said, his voice turning angry. ‘I’m her father. What’s going on? Where is she?’
    ‘I don’t know. I hope it’s nothing – well, it’s bound to turn out to be nothing. Probably she’ll just turn up.’
    ‘But you’ve called the police?’
    ‘It was just in case.’
    ‘Just in case what?’
    ‘I thought it was sensible.’
    ‘Right. I’ll be over. I’m coming now.’
    ‘No, Rory. Please – ’
    It was too late. He had hung up again.
    With no compunction, embarrassment or shame, I went round the house emptying it of people. I shooed some teenagers off the stairs, I told the vicar how nice it was to see him but that I was about to leave. (Didn’t he have a church to go to? A sermon to write?) I hustled Derek or Eric along the garden path. I woke Eamonn up from the sofa. But I found time to ask them all about Charlie. If they saw her, tell her to ring me. It was urgent.
    Jackson and a friend were wandering around, the camcorder still recording. I pulled the friend away, reunited him with his mother and wished them a happy Christmas as I steered them out firmly into the street. I saw on my mobile phone that it was eleven minutes to twelve. In half an hour or so we were meant to be heading for the A12, on the way to meet Christian, on the way to the holiday we’d been planning for so long.
    At the gate, I turned and held Jackson tightly by his shoulders.
    ‘Listen now,’ I said. ‘Charlie’s missing. At least, she’s not here. And though I’m sure it will be fine, it’s a bit odd. Do you have any idea whatsoever of where she might be?’
    He shook his head mutely.
    ‘She said nothing to you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘If she doesn’t turn up soon,’ I continued, ‘we’re not going to get that plane.’
    ‘We’ll be able to get another one later, though, won’t we? Mum?’ His eyes filled with tears and he wrenched himself away from me and kicked at a stone.
    ‘The important thing is to find Charlie,’ I said.
    ‘Yeah,’ he mumbled. Then, ‘She’ll be all right, won’t she?’
    ‘Yes,’ I said.
    In the house, Renata was clearing glasses off surfaces and stacking them in the dishwasher, not briskly but with a lethargic sadness that made me want to scream. The party had barely started before I’d ended it, and yet there was an extraordinary mess everywhere – bowls of crisps, saucers with cigarettes stubbed out in them, mud on the carpets and tiles, a smear of blood leading from the bottom of the stairs into the hall, a smashed bottle by the front door.
    ‘Right, Nina,’ she said, picking up a bowl and staring at it hopelessly. ‘You can leave all of this to me. I’ll put all those flowers in water for a start.’ Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and I saw that she was hobbling a bit, presumably from her collision with Sludge and Karen.
    ‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry, and I know this isn’t what you came for, but here’s what I want you to do, Renata. Can you take Jackson and Sludge and walk through the town? Ask if anyone’s seen Charlie.’
    She looked doubtful. ‘Who? Anyone?’
    ‘Jackson will point people out, won’t you, my darling?’
    ‘Oh,’ said Renata. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll just