Now You See Me (3 page)

I walked in. Four heads turned towards me – none of them Danny's. Martha was on the sofa, her skin drawn and pale, her wavy black hair loose and untidy. Paul beside her in his work suit, looking tired and serious. In the chairs opposite, two police officers – a man and a woman.

Everyone sat straight-backed and tense, perched on the edge of their seats like they never really meant to sit down at all.

I stumbled out a hello and the officers smiled and I felt like I could breathe for the first time since I saw the police car. They weren't the same two, I could see that. They weren't the officers from before, the ones who came about Mum.

Paul rose and beckoned me over, but Martha stared at me, her face shocked and vacant, like she'd completely forgotten who I was. Then her expression collapsed and her head sunk into her hands.

I felt a flush of unease. Was she angry with me for barging in?

I cleared my throat to mumble an apology, then understood – she'd thought I was Danny. That look on Martha's face was disappointment.

Oh god. I felt giddy, my mind reeling. “Where is he?” I blurted. “Is Danny in some kind of trouble?”

Paul stepped forwards, his expression awkward, and put his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze before introducing me to the police officers. “This is Hannah, the girl we were telling you about. She's always been very close to Danny.”

The woman officer stood. She had brown hair and a nice face, the sort that made you feel you could say anything and she wouldn't mind. “I'm PC Janet Reynolds, the area missing persons coordinator, but that's rather a mouthful so I suggest you just call me Janet. And this is PC Simon Jenkins.” The man next to her gave me a brief nod.

She said all this with a little laugh that was obviously meant to make me feel more relaxed, but it didn't work.
The missing persons coordinator?
The words rang in my head like the bell at school, loud and insistent. Suddenly I wanted to go home. To crawl into bed and read a book and pretend that everything was okay.

“Shall I go?” I said to Paul quickly. “I just came to look for Danny.”

“That's why we're here, Hannah.” Janet paused, waiting for me to speak. I stared at her blankly, mind racing. I felt suddenly guilty, like I'd done something wrong. Only somehow forgotten, or perhaps not realized I'd even done it.

Seeing my confusion, Janet went on: “No one has seen Danny since yesterday afternoon, Hannah. We're trying to establish where he might be.”

My heart started to race, my head felt light and spacey. It
was
like Mum, I thought. It was happening all over again.

I looked at my feet, fighting the panic that threatened to engulf me, and saw one of Alice's toys beneath the sofa. The soft rag doll with the yellow hair you could tie in bunches. Where was Alice? At a friend's house maybe? Or perhaps Martha had asked someone to look after her.

“So, it's good you're here, Hannah,” I heard Janet say. “We wanted to talk to you anyway. We're hoping you can help.”

I forced myself to raise my eyes. She gestured towards an empty chair. I sat down.

“As far as we can tell, you were the last person to see Danny yesterday. Or at least the last person we know of.” Janet paused again while I took this in. “Would you mind if we asked you some questions?”

I shook my head. “Yes. I mean, no problem.”

“Do you want us to call your dad first and have him come over?”

I looked over at Martha. She was biting her lip, frowning. Wanting to get on with it, I realized.

I shook my head again. Dad would be buried in the lab somewhere at the university. It'd take ages to track him down.

“It's fine,” I said.

“We're her godparents,” Martha added quickly. “Hannah spends a lot of time with us.”

Janet glanced at her, then nodded. I leaned forward, pressing my hands between my knees so no one could see them shaking.

I was there for over an hour. I told them everything I knew, which wasn't much. Only where Danny and I went yesterday afternoon, what we did, stuff he said, that sort of thing. Everything I could think of.

Janet asked all the questions. The policeman called Simon wrote everything down in a little notebook, which he tucked away into his pocket when we'd finished. They wanted to know details of Danny's friends, places he went, where I thought he might be. They even asked me if I knew his email and Facebook passwords so they could check his messages. I wasn't much help there either. Danny had become as distant online as he had in real life.

All the time I was talking Martha sat there, dragging her hands over her forehead, pulling the skin so tight it gave her face a startled look. You could feel the worry coming off her like a fever.

I kept trying to catch her eye. I felt nervous about saying the right things, or the wrong things; that I might somehow be letting her down. But when it was over, when Janet and Simon got in their car and drove away, Martha came over and gave me a brief hug.

“I'm sorry, Hannah. I'll speak to you later. I need to go and pick up Alice.” Her words tumbled out in a rush and she almost ran out the room.

Paul gripped my arm as I stared after her. “You okay?”

I nodded. Turned to look at him. “Danny? Do you think he's all right?”

Paul's mouth twitched. His grip relaxed. “I'm sure he is, Hannah. He probably needed some time out. The police think he'll come back in a day or two.”

“But why would he go off like that?” I asked, bewildered. “I mean, without telling anyone?”

And how could they be so sure he meant to go? I wanted to say. That someone hadn't made him.

Paul gazed out the window to the view across the bay. It was a cloudy day, misty, and there wasn't that much to see, but he kept his eyes fixed on the horizon like it was the most absorbing thing in the world. “I don't know, Hannah. I really can't answer that. But I'm sure we'll find him very soon.”

His voice sounded convincing. Yet behind his words I thought I caught a glimpse of something. Something far less confident than he was trying to appear.

We hardly spoke all the way home. Paul seemed lost in his thoughts, driving automatically, like he could do it in his sleep. I'd told him not to bother giving me a lift. I only live half a mile away and I normally walk, but he was adamant. Under the circumstances, he said. It was nice but crazy. I know Paul's my godfather and everything, but sometimes he behaves more like my dad than Dad ever does.

And when we arrived he insisted on waiting with me till Dad got back. This I really didn't need. I wanted to be on my own. My head was starting to ache and I didn't want to sit downstairs and think of things to say to Danny's father. But I couldn't find a way of saying this without sounding rude.

Paul lifted a pile of Dad's biology journals from the old armchair by the kitchen table, his gaze flicking around the room. Suddenly I saw it all through his eyes. The heap of pans in the sink. The cereal packets on the table. The milk left out of the fridge. All the usual chaos.

I grabbed the dirty knife and plate Dad had abandoned on top of the dishwasher this morning and shoved them inside. Paul looked embarrassed, like I'd caught him spying on us or something.

“What time is your dad home?” he asked.

I glanced at the clock above the toaster. Nearly six. Dad could be ages yet.

“I'll call him,” I said, realizing Paul must want to get back to Martha and Alice. I picked up the phone and dialled Dad's number at the university.

But even before it rang, the back door swung open and Dad walked in. His face twitched in surprise when he saw Paul sitting there. And something else, just for a second. Something almost angry.

Paul got up and stepped forwards as if to shake Dad's hand, then changed his mind, leaving his arm hanging loosely by his side. It was mad. I mean, they'd known each other for ever, since they went to university together years ago, and yet they were just standing there, Paul looking awkward and Dad bewildered. It was like everyone had forgotten what to do with themselves.

I'd had enough. I mumbled something about homework and shot up to my room. But even with the door closed, I could hear the murmur of their voices in the kitchen. Not loud enough to catch what they were saying, but I didn't care. I didn't want to know.

A bleep from my bag. I grabbed my phone and opened my messages, but the text wasn't from Danny. It was Lianna, asking me where I'd got to. Hell. I'd forgotten I was supposed to go round to hers tonight.

I thought about calling to explain, but then she'd be bound to ask me what was going on. And somehow, though Lianna's my best friend at school and the first person I'd turn to after Danny, I couldn't face all the inevitable questions. The speculation. The lame reassurances.

I sent her a text saying I'd forgotten and was sorry, then flopped on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, exhausted but not sleepy. My eyes were hot and heavy, like I needed to cry. More than anything I felt sort of frozen, as if none of this was real.

Danny would be back soon, I told myself. He'd come home tonight and he'd ring me. And I'd ask him where he'd been, and he'd snigger and say something stupid like “Wouldn't you just love to know?” in that taunting, teasing way of his. Then he'd give in and tell me, and it would be somewhere obvious, and we'd all kick ourselves and wonder why on earth we never thought of it. And Martha would ground him for ever, but it wouldn't matter.

Because he'd be back. And that was the only thing that mattered at all.

I've no idea how long Alice and I sleep in the hammock, but it must be a while. I wake to the crunch of car tyres on gravel, my neck stiff and achy, the sun already sinking behind Ryall Hill. And remember why I'm here. The text from Martha, something to do with Danny. My stomach chills as I wonder again what's going on.

I guess I'm about to find out, I think, as Rudman launches himself at the garden gate in a volley of yapping. I look up, expecting to see Martha, but it's Paul striding towards us, car keys jangling in the pocket of his suit, wearing a smile that looks prepared.

“I thought you were away at a conference?” I clamber out the hammock, rousing Alice.

Paul pushes Rudman down and brushes the dirt off his trousers. “I was, but something's come up and Martha can't make it back tonight.”

He bends down and scoops up his daughter, kissing her plump cheek as she blinks and yawns. Despite his cheerful manner, he looks exhausted, a glint of grey in his short hair, his skin pale and sheeny.

“You two been out here long?” Paul eyes me carefully, as if trying to read something in my face.

I shiver in the cool evening air. “A few hours at least.”

“Want Mummy,” Alice mumbles, pouting and rubbing her eyes. I hand over her glasses and she plonks them back on her nose.

“Tired,” her dad concludes. “C'mon, let's go inside.”

I follow them in, pausing in the kitchen as Paul settles Alice on the sofa in the living room. I hear the theme tune to Alice's favourite cartoon as he comes back in and slings his jacket over the chair.

“Do you want something to eat?” He scans the contents of the fridge.

I shake my head. “I'm not that hungry.”

Paul grabs a can of beer and rips off the ring pull, glancing at me before taking a sip. “I'd offer you one, Hannah, but I'm not sure your dad would approve.”

“Plenty of kids drink at sixteen.” I grin. “Dad knows that. But you're off the hook because I hate the taste of beer.”

His smile lasts about a second before his face relapses into that heavy, worried look. He runs his hand over the place where his hair is thinning, though you hardly notice because Paul always keeps it so short. It's barely more than stubble.

Sitting in the chair opposite, he takes another gulp of beer, twirling the can in his fingers and looking like he's on the verge of speaking.

“So, what's going on?” I ask, when he seems to think better of it. “Is everything okay?” My stomach suddenly feels light and hollow. Perhaps I am hungry after all.

Paul ducks my question. “I'm afraid Martha will be gone for a couple of days.”

“A couple of days?” I think of Alice. I'm not sure she's ever spent a night away from her mother.

He shrugs. “We'll manage.”

“I could stay and help, if you like. Dad's deep in some research project, so he's never back till late.”

His mouth twitches. I get the impression he disapproves of Dad working so much, though I can't imagine why – Paul works pretty hard himself.

“Thanks, Hannah. An hour or so would be great – I need to make a couple of calls. Then I'll run you back, okay?”

I nod, wanting to ask again what's happening. Where has Martha gone? And why did she leave so suddenly?

But I'm afraid. Not of asking, but of knowing.

I make a pile of cheese on toast and Alice and I eat it in front of the TV. I can see Paul talking on his mobile out in the garden. I can't hear what he's saying, but his face looks tense, urgent.

Alice stares at the TV, her eyes red and tired. Cartoon cats dance around a pond seething with frogs. I've always hated this one. I want to switch it off, watch something else, the news even. Anything. But I don't want to upset Ally – not right now.

I think about my upcoming exams, the revision I should be doing. But too many other thoughts crowd my head, most of them revolving around Danny and what I suspect is going on. It feels impossible to focus on anything else.

I pull my mobile out my bag and check Martha's message again, resisting the urge to text her back and ask what's happening. Whatever it is, she clearly has enough on her plate without me bugging her. I switch it off and put it back, but a second later the house phone rings.