“Absolutely not,” says Mark.
“We can discuss it tomorrow.” Ree sounds like a proper grown-up.
Corinne heads for the main building. As the Lamberts make their way from the big waterfall to the Clockhouse, Champ suddenly stops. Sally tries to chivvy him in the right direction, but he’s fixed to the spot, staring at the ground.
“It’s a frog,” says Ree. “Champy’s spotted a frog. Aww, sweet little froggy.”
“There are loads,” says Toby. “Greetings, froggy brethren!”
“Maybe they’ve come from the waterfall or the park,” says Ree. “Don’t let Champ eat them, Mum.”
“I think he’s trying to communicate with this one,” Sally says. “Look at him. He’s… Honestly, I think he’s trying to have a meaningful interaction. Good boy, Champles. Is it a froggy? A new froggy friend?”
“Sal,” Mark says in a flat voice,“I’d quite like to get a bit of kip. I’m knackered, after the interrupted night and the long drive.”
“Well, you can’t. Not till Corinne comes back with our room keys. Mark, relax. I know it’s not ideal that we’re awake at God knows what time, but can you try for once, just this one time, to just…surrender and be in the moment?”
“I’m in it whether I like it or not,” Mark huffs. “I don’t get a choice, do I?”
Much later, trying to fall asleep in her and Mark’s hotel bed with Champ snoring loudly between them, Sally remembers what it was that snagged in her mind, the thing Corinne said in the car that didn’t quite sound right. She’d said that Jill, her daughter-in-law, had told all her Facebook friends “Champ Lambert is at West Acres right now.” But none of Norfolk-based Jill’s friends would know who Champ Lambert was. Yet Corinne had said it as if he were a well-known public figure.
And another strange thing too: Why had Ree left it to Corinne to answer Sally’s question about what Tess had been saying online? There had been that ominous pause, almost as if Ree was waiting for Corinne to take over, when surely she herself was far better placed to comment on Tess’s Instagram output.
What if…
No. That makes no sense. There’s no way Ree and Corinne are colluding to keep something from her. Why would they? Sally must have imagined it. All the same, she’ll ask Ree in the morning, just in case. When it comes to Champ’s safety, she needs to know absolutely everything.
Finally, Sally falls asleep and dreams of Champ escaping from the police by becoming a tiny frog that lives in a waterfall.
28
Mum didn’t get the chance to ask Ree anything the next morning, because Ree had a more pressing agenda of her own. When Mum woke up, Ree was in her room, sitting cross-legged at the foot of her bed. “Awake at last, Mother. About time!”
“What’s up?” said Mum. “What time is it?”
“Quarter past eleven. You’ve missed breakfast, I’m afraid. Though I’m sure Corinne can, like, buy all the world’s sausages and eggs and have them delivered to your mouth if you’re hungry. But you haven’t got time for food, so forget that. It’s Sarah Sergeant Day!”
“What?” Mum sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Where’s Dad?”
“Out walking Champ, with Tobes. Corinne’s on her way over from reception now, with Sarah Sergeant, because—did I mention this?—it’s Sarah Sergeant Day! Yay! So rise and shine, brush your teeth—”
“Rhiannon, you’re scaring me. Who’s Sarah Sergeant? What the hell’s going on?”
“Corinne’ll explain everything when she and Sarah get here. Who is she? A lovely, altruistic hero of our times. That’s who Sarah is, and you can’t wait to meet her. Oh, and Mum? Auntie Vicky might ring or text you. Tobes gave her all of our numbers. Soz, but it’s actually fine? She won’t give them to anyone else.”
By the time Mum was able to mold some shocked splinters of vocabulary into a useful question, Ree was gone. The question, which went unasked, was: How did Vicky get in touch with you to ask for our numbers, given that she didn’t have our numbers?
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door of Mum and Dad’s hotel room. Mum was washed, dressed, and feeling more untethered than she could remember ever feeling in her life before.
Sarah Sergeant turned out to be an elderly woman with neat gray hair in a bob, held in place on one side by a wide flower-patterned clip. She was wearing pale-blue framed glasses, a navy pinafore dress over a white blouse with puffy sleeves, and red buckle-shoes like a child’s, with gray tights, even though it was June.
“I’m on your side,” she told Mum, once Corinne had introduced her. “Your campaign to save Champ—it’swonderful.Inspiring.”
“What campaign?” Mum looked at Corinne, then at Ree. “Is something going on that I don’t know about?”
“Something has been, yes.” Ree looked appropriately solemn. “A viral internet movement, which I think I might have, in a way, started? We’re a bit…famous now? Soz, Mum. I promise I’ll tell you all about it once you’ve heard what Sarah’s got to say. It’s all good, though, and nothing to worry about.”
Viral. Famous.Mum couldn’t really think about what any of that meant while this strange flowery, smiley woman was sitting in frontof her.On her and Dad’s bed, too. Dad wouldn’t like that one bit if he came in and saw it, thought Mum.
