Now You See Me by Emma Haughton

Alice woke and toddled towards us. Spotting our heads bobbing above the waves, she started wailing and screaming – wouldn’t stop even when we swam back to shore.
    It took nearly an hour in the arcade to cheer her up. Paul got a big bag of two-pence pieces, and Danny and I took turns to hoist Alice up so she could post them into the penny falls. Then Mum challenged everyone to an air hockey tournament, and Dad won, raising his fists in the air and whooping like an idiot.
    I can’t remember what we did then. I never bothered to write it down.
    Leafing further forwards, I came to the page where the entries stopped a year ago. When Mum died. When there no longer seemed much point recording things like what I ate for breakfast or who’d said what at school.
    I turned to a fresh sheet. Wrote in Sunday’s date two weeks ago. Best to work backwards, I decided. Start from when I last saw Danny.
    Danny must have said or done something. Martha’s words echoed round my head. Given you some kind of clue .
    Half an hour later all I had was a blank page and the looming threat of a headache. I couldn’t think of a single thing I hadn’t already come up with. But neither could I shake the feeling that there must be something, that if I only tried hard enough I’d unearth some kind of evidence that might lead to Danny.
    There was only one answer: try harder.
    I stuffed the diary into my backpack and grabbed a slice of bread from the kitchen, squeezing it into a rubbery ball. I chewed it as I set off down the road, taking the footpath to Marlborough Avenue and dropping down onto Marine Parade, then skirting along to the Sandmarsh playing fields.
    It was the exact route Danny and I had taken that Sunday, but it was amazing how much had already changed. Wet leaves now covered most of the path, and a brisk autumn wind bit deep through my jacket and jeans, making my eyes water and my nose run. I braced myself against the chill and concentrated on scanning the tarmac either side of me, though I knew the chances of finding anything now were worse than slim. Especially since the police had already checked.
    But I had to look anyway. I had to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. I couldn’t sit around doing nothing any more. And maybe looking would jog my memory, bring up something I’d forgotten.
    The Sandmarsh playing fields were almost deserted. Only a woman out walking a fat black dog on a lead. I paced round the outside of the miniature railway track, examining the grass. The woman with the dog paused and glanced over and I realized how odd it must look – a young girl, alone, wandering around staring at the ground. So I bent down and pretended to fiddle with the laces of my trainers, but when I finally raised my eyes, she was walking towards me.
    â€œHave you lost something?”
    I almost said yes. I almost told her who.
    Easier to shake my head.
    â€œAre you okay?” She had one of those nice faces, like Janet Reynolds. Like someone’s mum. It made my chest ache just to look at her.
    â€œThanks. Really, I’m fine.” I returned her smile, aiming for happy and confident.
    She seemed unconvinced. “You sure? It’ll be getting dark soon. Maybe you should think about going home.”
    When the woman left I carried on. Checked the path up towards Dane’s Rise, going right to the bench where Danny and I had sat and watched the yachts tacking in the breeze. Cutting back to the boating lake, I walked across the concrete ledge, peering into the dark water on either side.
    Nothing. Only the sharp smell of salt and dankness. When I reached the end, I retraced my steps, just to make sure.
    Still nothing.
    Back along the seafront, it started spitting, a slow damp drizzle that swiftly hardened into rain. By the time I reached Ladd’s Point, I was wet and seriously cold, and the light was fading fast. But I made myself scour the beach, checking up around the cliffs