again. ‘Yeah, whatever. But, um – I have to leave soon.’ Coward! Why didn't I just leave
now
?
Rob let out an impatient breath. ‘Look, let's get back to Abby. The way I see it, one of three things could have happened to her.’
‘Go on, then.’ Gail's pen was poised over the notepad.
Rob ticked the options off on his fingers. ‘Right. One, she ran away. Two, she had some sort of accident somewhere. Or, three – she was, um, kidnapped.’
‘Well, I don't think she ran away,’ burst out Sheila.
Gail and Rob stared at her.
‘Because … she had plans and ever ything.’ Sheila's mouth trembled slightly, and a ferocious scowl darkened her face. ‘And frankly, I don't think what happened with
Emma
was enough to make her freak out and run off somewhere.’
That word again,
freak.
As if on cue, all three of them turned and stared at me. Some tiny part of me managed to hold myself together, and I jerked my chin up, staring back at them.
Gail looked away first. Her voice was husky as she spoke. ‘And – and if she had an accident between the bus and her house, someone would have found her, wouldn't they? It's only a few minutes away, and it's not like it's – wilderness or anything.’
Silence choked over the room. I pressed against the desk, hugging my knees, and suddenly wanted to say something,
anything
, that would help. But I couldn't. I knew the fear that was gripping all of them, because it was my fear, too – that Abby had been shoved into a car by some psycho murderer, that she had been hurt, terrified …
Killed.
Suddenly Sheila swung her feet off the bed. ‘What's the point of this, eh? What's the
point –
come on, let's get out of here.’
Rob swallowed. ‘But I thought we were—’
‘Forget it! It's stupid!’ Sheila lunged across the room to the cardboard boxes, hefting one at Rob. ‘And
you
—’ she spun on me, almost crying. ‘Yeah, why don't you just leave … we're all Abby's friends here.’
So I did; I left the room, and stumbled down the stairs in a haze. As I got to the bottom, the doorbell rang, and a moment later Sheila and the others came pounding down the stairs, carrying the cardboard boxes.
Sheila shouldered past me and wrenched open the door. A boy with longish blond hair and a pierced eyebrow stood there. ‘Thank
god
you're here,’ said Sheila. ‘Here, take this.’
She shoved one of the boxes at him. He clutched it, glancing at me with a startled frown. ‘Um, weren't we going to—’
‘Forget it!’ snapped Sheila. ‘What do you want to talk to
her
for; she's useless, bloody useless—’ Without missing a beat, she turned and bellowed, ‘
Mum! We're leaving!
’
I left, pushing past the boy with the pierced eyebrow. I wasn't about to do the social polite thing with Mrs Langley, when her daughter would happily nail me to a tree.
As I waited for the bus, hugging myself, I saw the four of them fanning out down the street, taping posters to utility poles, walls, sides of houses. Once they had disappeared down the next road, I went over and looked at one. I couldn't stop myself.
Abby Ryzner, 13, missing since Saturday, 4 th September … She was wearing black trousers, a black T-shirt, andsilver jewellery … If you have seen Abby, or have any information …
Her smiling face looked out at me from inside a plastic folder. I touched it, thinking, I guess they put the posters in plastic to stop them getting wet or whatever … oh, very clever, Emma, go to the head of the class! I shoved my hands in my pockets, struggling against tears, and turned and left, heading back to the bus stop.
Or that was my plan. Instead, I found myself walking straight past it and down the next road.
I walked down my old street slowly, feeling like I had just landed from another galaxy. It was all exactly the same, and completely different. The big magnolia tree at the bottom had been cut down. Number twelve had paved their front garden to make a parking space.
Abby's house
now
?
Rob let out an impatient breath. ‘Look, let's get back to Abby. The way I see it, one of three things could have happened to her.’
‘Go on, then.’ Gail's pen was poised over the notepad.
Rob ticked the options off on his fingers. ‘Right. One, she ran away. Two, she had some sort of accident somewhere. Or, three – she was, um, kidnapped.’
‘Well, I don't think she ran away,’ burst out Sheila.
Gail and Rob stared at her.
‘Because … she had plans and ever ything.’ Sheila's mouth trembled slightly, and a ferocious scowl darkened her face. ‘And frankly, I don't think what happened with
Emma
was enough to make her freak out and run off somewhere.’
That word again,
freak.
As if on cue, all three of them turned and stared at me. Some tiny part of me managed to hold myself together, and I jerked my chin up, staring back at them.
Gail looked away first. Her voice was husky as she spoke. ‘And – and if she had an accident between the bus and her house, someone would have found her, wouldn't they? It's only a few minutes away, and it's not like it's – wilderness or anything.’
Silence choked over the room. I pressed against the desk, hugging my knees, and suddenly wanted to say something,
anything
, that would help. But I couldn't. I knew the fear that was gripping all of them, because it was my fear, too – that Abby had been shoved into a car by some psycho murderer, that she had been hurt, terrified …
Killed.
Suddenly Sheila swung her feet off the bed. ‘What's the point of this, eh? What's the
point –
come on, let's get out of here.’
Rob swallowed. ‘But I thought we were—’
‘Forget it! It's stupid!’ Sheila lunged across the room to the cardboard boxes, hefting one at Rob. ‘And
you
—’ she spun on me, almost crying. ‘Yeah, why don't you just leave … we're all Abby's friends here.’
So I did; I left the room, and stumbled down the stairs in a haze. As I got to the bottom, the doorbell rang, and a moment later Sheila and the others came pounding down the stairs, carrying the cardboard boxes.
Sheila shouldered past me and wrenched open the door. A boy with longish blond hair and a pierced eyebrow stood there. ‘Thank
god
you're here,’ said Sheila. ‘Here, take this.’
She shoved one of the boxes at him. He clutched it, glancing at me with a startled frown. ‘Um, weren't we going to—’
‘Forget it!’ snapped Sheila. ‘What do you want to talk to
her
for; she's useless, bloody useless—’ Without missing a beat, she turned and bellowed, ‘
Mum! We're leaving!
’
I left, pushing past the boy with the pierced eyebrow. I wasn't about to do the social polite thing with Mrs Langley, when her daughter would happily nail me to a tree.
As I waited for the bus, hugging myself, I saw the four of them fanning out down the street, taping posters to utility poles, walls, sides of houses. Once they had disappeared down the next road, I went over and looked at one. I couldn't stop myself.
Abby Ryzner, 13, missing since Saturday, 4 th September … She was wearing black trousers, a black T-shirt, andsilver jewellery … If you have seen Abby, or have any information …
Her smiling face looked out at me from inside a plastic folder. I touched it, thinking, I guess they put the posters in plastic to stop them getting wet or whatever … oh, very clever, Emma, go to the head of the class! I shoved my hands in my pockets, struggling against tears, and turned and left, heading back to the bus stop.
Or that was my plan. Instead, I found myself walking straight past it and down the next road.
I walked down my old street slowly, feeling like I had just landed from another galaxy. It was all exactly the same, and completely different. The big magnolia tree at the bottom had been cut down. Number twelve had paved their front garden to make a parking space.
Abby's house
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