The Long Dream by Serena Summers Page B

as he ran over towards me.
    Ben came running after him, and I realised that I just wasn't sure what to say to them. "I'll just check the time," I shouted as I ran indoors, panicking slightly.
    It was half past three. I snatched the phone and dialled his parent's number, thinking that he must have popped in to see them on his way back. I didn't want to worry them, so I tried to sound as casual as possible and asked if they'd seen him today, but no, they hadn't. I assured them that everything was okay and explained that Paul had to pop into the office earlier to get some important papers, and I was sure he was heading back. They seemed satisfied with that, so I ended the call.
    By seven o'clock I was seriously worried, but desperately trying not to show it. I fed the boys, bathed them and put them to bed as usual and got their uniforms ready for school the next day. I tried ringing the office again, just in case, but no luck. There were no mobile phones back then, so there was just no way of finding Paul. God! What the hell was going on? How dare he leave me in this limbo? I sat down on the sofa, totally exasperated, tired of dreaming up every scenario that could have happened. I switched on the TV in a desperate attempt to distract myself, it worked and I found myself gradually dozing off.
    ***
    Half past nine! I awoke with a start and immediately rushed to the window to see if Paul's car was there. It wasn't. I raced around all the rooms in the house and even the garden, but there was no trace of him. What about the garage? I rushed out the back and round to the side door, but it was empty. Panic started to rise in me and I felt like screaming but I daren't wake the boys. I had to stay calm somehow, so I got a glass of water and sat at the kitchen table, feeling so alone and helpless, not knowing what to do next.
    It was five to ten and I decided to lock the back door, switch off the TV and have a bath. Surely, that would relax me enough so I could work something out. I made my way to the back of the conservatory when I suddenly noticed the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from under the mat. I pulled it out and found myself holding an envelope with my name on it in Paul's handwriting. My hands were shaking as I tore it open and pulled out the letter.
    I love you. This is the only way. Paul.
    It made no sense to me at all. I stared and stared at it until my eyes were blurred with tears and a huge sense of foreboding washed over me. What was the only way? The only way to do what? Why would he write such an enigmatic letter? What was he actually trying to tell me?
    I suddenly felt an urgent need to act, to do something. I dropped the letter, grabbed my keys and dashed out of the front door. He must be waiting somewhere, sitting alone in the dark just thinking what to do next. It must be a cry for help. If I could only find him, it would be all right again. I could bring him home and get to the bottom of this, whatever it was.
    That was my mission as I ran all over the village, first down to the station, then along to the shop, the post office and the church opposite. Everywhere was deserted and silent on this moonless Sunday night. All I could hear were my own footsteps crashing down and my tears were blinding me, but I had to go on until I had searched every possible place he could be hiding. I had no idea what, but something terrible was happening to Paul. I longed to see him and to talk to him, I was sure we could sort this out, whatever it was.
    Suddenly, I realised I'd come full circle and was on the home straight. I reached the front door and found I had left it ajar and as I went in, I listened intently for any sounds of movement, but there were none. I noticed the letter lying on the carpet, so I grabbed it and stared hard at it again, feeling sure I had not understood its' full meaning, which would now come to light. My heart was banging loudly in my ears and my stomach was knotted up with anxiety, but nothing