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‘It’s me,’ Hannah announced unnecessarily, as my phone had already identified her. ‘Where are you?’
‘By Southland Woods, tacking up flyers.’
‘That’s only about twenty-five minutes from here. Can you come round?’ There was something in Hannah’s voice that I couldn’t identify. Which in itself was odd, because after a lifetime of friendship I was pretty much fluent in every nuance.
‘Is something wrong? Is it Milly?’ My stomach did a little flip of anxiety. I’d accompanied Hannah on two trips to A & E courtesy of her daughter, and while Hannah had gone into a curiously Zen coping mode, I’d panicked out of all proportion to a nastily twisted ankle and then a tumble from a climbing frame that hadn’t even needed stitches. I was going to make a terrible mother.If I ever get the chance, a voice in my head commented silently.
‘It is and it isn’t about Milly,’ Hannah replied mysteriously. ‘I need to show you something – well, ask you something, really. Look, I don’t want to get into this on the phone. Can you come round?’
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ I said, feeling considerably more relieved when I heard the sound of Milly’s laughter in the background. Whatever it was clearly didn’t involve broken bones or projectile vomiting, a phenomenon I’d never seen outside of a horror film until my friend had a baby.
I forced my right foot to keep within the speed limit as I headed towards Hannah’s house. I’d got very little sleep the night before, and the paltry amount I’d snatched had been interrupted by disturbed dreams. Unsurprisingly, after my dad’s revelation, quite a few of them had involved graveyards, which never makes for a good night’s rest.
It was impossible not to feel as if something momentous had happened, now that Dad believed me. It should have been such a big turning point, and yet in the morning nothing had changed. I’d phoned Inspector Graham at the police station, and he’d listened to my father’s anecdote as though it was a charming little story that he might possibly relate to his family that evening, but it didn’t change his stance on declaring Finn an officially missing person.
‘It goes to proof of character,’ I said, perfectly aware I was lifting that phrase from a hundred courtroom scenes I’d seen in films.
There was a moment of silence from the policeman’s end of the line. ‘It does. But doing something nice twelve months ago doesn’t necessarily change what happened last week.’
What shocked me far more than his casual dismissal of what I’d hoped was a break in the case – I really had watched too many police shows – was the realisation that Finn had indeed been missing for almost a week now. If there was a trail, it was quickly growing cold. And if there was any hope of jogging anyone’s memory with one of the ‘Missing’ flyers, it had to happen soon, before someone came along and plastered an advert for a car boot sale over Finn’s face.
At least now there were two people in the world who believed Finn would never have abandoned me at the church. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
*
I pulled into Hannah’s drive, slotting my car in behind her Mini. She answered my knock on the front door so quickly, she must surely have been looking out of the window waiting for me to arrive. The twinge of concern returned to take another nibble at my peace of mind.
I caught a hit of the sunscreen Hannah had probably smothered Milly in as she leant in to kiss my cheek. Today was the first day of the nursery school summer holidays, and if the weather stayed as good as this, I imagined Milly would be spending most of it outside.
‘Come into the garden,’ Hannah said, already heading down the hallway and into the kitchen. Her legs were shorter than mine, but for the first time ever I was having to hurry to keep up with her.
‘What’s this all about, Hannah?’
‘There’s something I want to show you,’ she said over her shoulder.
Their kitchen was bathed in sunlight and, as always, was in a state that teetered on the edge of chaos. I loved it for its comforting, unfussy charm. The painted wooden chairs around the table deliberately didn’t match, and neither did the crockery, and the fridge could scarcely be seen beneath a gallery of Milly’s latest masterpieces.
Hannah threw open the patio doors and the sunlight hit me like a blast wave as we stepped through them. But it wasn’t the heat that rocked me to a halt as I looked across the garden. Beneath the shade of their sprawling eucalyptus tree, I saw Milly kneeling down before something that definitely hadn’t been there on my last visit.
‘You didn’t!’ I exclaimed. ‘You got Milly a rabbit! I know you said you were going to let her have one this summer, but I didn’t realise you were doing it so soon.’
Hannah had also come to a stop on the lawn. She turned towards me with an unreadable expression. ‘William and I didn’t buy her a rabbit,’ she said carefully.
I frowned as I looked at my goddaughter, who had a Christmas morning expression of pure delight plastered across her face. For as long as I could remember, Milly had made no secret of wanting a pet. And now, nestled on her lap was the cutest silvery-grey rabbit I’d ever seen. Its tiny black nose twitched delicately as Milly bent down and kissed it squarely between its long, droopy ears.
‘Well, ifyoudidn’t get her the pet rabbit, then who did?’ I asked, totally confused.
‘You did.’
I stared at my friend, her daughter, and then the rabbit, who’d apparently arrived complete with a hutch that was surely the bunny equivalent of a mansion. The delivery had also included a run, several months’ worth of food and enough toys to amuse even the most discerning rabbit. I seemed to have thought of absolutely everything. The only problem was… it hadn’t been me.
‘Hannah, there’s been a mistake somewhere. I mean, I knew Millywanteda rabbit; she’s always talking about it. But I didn’t buy her one.’
‘According to this, you did,’ Hannah contradicted, pulling a small gift card from the back pocket of her denim cut-offs.
I took the card from her, and even pushed my sunglasses on to the top of my head, so I could read it better. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but it was the wording that stunned me most of all.
To Milly,
