Page 101 of Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘Thanks, okay, that’s so helpful.’

Where else? Where else might she go?Rachel stood in the yard, racking her brains, with the rain and wind whipping up around her, as another crack of thunder ricocheted through her body. It wasn’t like her little girl to go wandering off – she just wasn’t that kind of a kid. Had she fallen and hurt herself? Perhaps she couldn’t walk back to them? Was she frightened and hiding from the storm? But surely she’d call out if she’d heard their voices?

‘No good?’ Mum asked, already knowing the answer from the look on Rachel’s face.

‘No, she’s not with Eve.’ They were wasting time. ‘I’m going to go off around the fields on the quad with Moss. He might be able to trace her scent. You stay here and look over everywhere again just in case we’ve missed something.’

‘Okay, will do.’

As she reached the quad, Rachel thought of Tom. Could Maisy have gone there? She’d call him, it was worth a try, hopefully he’d be back from the show by now. She took her mobile out.

‘Tom … Maisy’s gone missing.’ Rachel tried to stop her voice from shaking.

‘From the farm?’

‘Yes, we’ve been back around fifteen minutes from the show. She was with me at the Pantry barn, but then she just disappeared. I thought she was with Mum who was over in the house …’

‘Okay. She hasn’t called here, as far as I know. I’ll get out on the quad and start looking. She can’t have gone too far in that time.’

What if it was Jake – if he’d finally turned up and just taken her? Surely, he wasn’t capable of that, not without telling anyone? All sorts of weird thoughts were entering her head. But then, did you ever really know a person fully – what they were capable of?

‘Thanks, I’ve got my mobile on me. I’m going to check the whole farm area and Mum’s staying near the house just in case. Oh God, Tom, I hope she’s not hurt.’

‘Try not to worry, Rach. We’ll find her soon, I’m sure. What was she wearing?’

‘Umm, a pink top and jeans. Oh, and her spotty red rain mac.’ She’d put that on to get out of the Land Rover, as it had begun spitting with rain.

‘Well, that’s nice and bright to look out for.’

‘Right, yes. Okay, well I’m going to get going.’ She quelled the rising panic inside. She needed to keep a cool head to help find her little girl.

Rachel started up the quad, called Moss to her side who leapt up, and off they set, calling as they drove slowly around the farmyard first, then out to The Stackyard field. They drove on, searching the perimeters of each acre, carefully scouring the gulleys and hedgerows. The wind and the rain battering them as they went.

She then set Moss down and drove slowly, sure that he’d sniff the little girl out if he could. ‘Maisy, where’s Maisy, Moss? Go find her.’

She checked her phone every now and then, in case Mum or Tom or Eve had called, but still nothing. The rain streamed down over the phone screen like heaven’s tears. It was teeming down, and every now and then was another boom of threatening thunder.

She’d looked in every field, every hedgerow, under every tree – where else might she be? Think, Rachel, think. She decided to head back to the farmyard; there were more places Maisy might hide in, or shelter there. A cupboard in the house, a silly game of hide-and-seek gone wrong? But, she’d been upset about her dad … Rachel felt that was key to this.

Mum was at the door of the farmhouse as she arrived back. She was standing there shaking her head, looking ashen, saddened to see no Maisy beside Rachel. Rachel’s face must have echoed her mum’s. Still no Maisy.

‘I’ll search the buildings again, and take Moss this time,’ she said. ‘Did you check all the cupboards? Under the beds?’

Jill nodded. ‘I’ll do the Pantry again. That’s where you last saw her, wasn’t it?’

‘Okay, yes.’

Rachel started the quad up again, heading for the lambing shed, muttering softly, like a prayer, ‘Please God, don’t let anything have happened to her. Please God.’ She couldn’t be sure if it was tears or rain streaming down her face.

And the search began again.

She was checking behind old straw bales in the lambing shed, when her phone pulsed in her pocket. She could hardly get her mobile out quick enough, her fingers fumbling to answer.

The caller ID told her it was Tom.

‘I’ve found her.’

Oh God. The three best words ever.