AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I drove down that night in the rain full of fury. When had my father moved back to Port Emblyn? How had the hospital found my number, and how could he expect me to drop everything to take care of him after all this time?
But I had another reason for going back: my dear old school pals, Tristan, Frances, Mina, Lydia.
I had never forgiven them. I knew Tristan was an MP with even loftier aims. I knew Mina had married him and become a socialite with fingers in a thousand different charity pies. I knew Frances ran a gallery called Riot and had started an art festival. I knew Lydia had become, of all things, a nurse.
For years I had trawled the internet for any news of them. It was an all-consuming hobby. I’d put it on my CV under ‘other interests’. I was quite comfortable with the fact that it wasn’t healthy.
I needed closure.
I needed revenge.
11
NOW
It’s four thirty-eight. In the old grain store, my green, three-door Mini looks like a toy next to the twins’ SUVs. I force my hands to stop shaking as I slide my key in the ignition.
I try to recall the conversation with Sarah. She’d heard the rehearsal that afternoon had overrun but everyone had caught their buses. She’d commented on the weather, and said half the sixth-formers would have skipped off those buses early and gone to the beach.
Sarah had made an announcement over the Tannoy. There were some after-school clubs just finishing, and she’d have the boarders’ halls checked and talk to the head, Mr Whitlow. No need to worry yet.
No, they didn’t keep a register for sixth-form classes. They hadn’t for years. It helped develop independence and a sense of responsibility. It seemed to work very well.
Miss Smith would probably be on her way home now but Sarah would talk to her ASAP, since she was the last teacher to have Jenna in her class. They would have school security conduct a search, just as a precaution.
Sarah suggested I talk to Jenna’s friends, the rest of the family.
She reminded me we didn’t know Jenna was missing yet.
Yet.
I call my baby again then press the ignition button and take a breath.
She must be with Rose. It’s such a beautiful day, they probably just went to the beach and lost track of time. That’s where I’ll start.
It’s a twelve-minute drive to Morvoren. No need to panic and drive faster. I park in the lot above the wide sweeping bay. There’s a cormorant on the big black rock that stands out of the water, and a litter of white skiffs from the sailing school gliding across the blue. One of them is drifting too close to the lighthouse.
I duck into the café, but the boy behind the counter shakes his head at the picture of Jenna on my phone. It’s from the twins’ birthday party. Her hair is still long, tucked in a red beanie, her smile close-lipped, uncertain.
The boy zooms in with greasy fingertips. ‘Yeah, there was a group from PES earlier. They came in for toasties around four, but I don’t know. There were a lot them.’
I try to call Jenna again. No answer.
I scour the beach for Jenna’s red backpack as I hurry down the concrete steps past families laden with folded windbreaks and buckets and coolers. I jog all the way to the rocks at the far end, up onto the dunes, sand filling my sandals.
I want to go from group to group, showing them photos, but I haven’t heard from the school yet. Maybe she’s still there.
Or Miss Smith has her locked in the boot of her car.
Or Miss Smith grew up into a normal person and I’m being crazy.
It’s been an hour, and something about it being a whole hour makes me feel queasy. But an hour isn’t long. Maybe she’s in Port Emblyn. Should I go there? No – she’s more likely still at school, in art or music or painting a set backstage with her headphones on.
Will she even have heard a Tannoy announcement? Sometimes she turns her music up so loud.
I need to keep calm. Keep smiling.
I close my eyes for a second and swallow down the tide of fear creeping up my throat.
