‘They’re searching the village. Are you sure there’s nowhere else she might have gone?’
‘No,’ she said desperately.
‘OK. Please keep your phone with you and let us both get in touch as soon as we hear anything.’
They hung up.
Nancy gazed helplessly around. It suddenly hit her hard and a sob caught in her throat. Her ten-year-old daughter was out there somewhere alone.
FIFTY
Thursday 10 December
Lorna seemed to spend a disproportionate amount of time in the broom cupboard, as she liked to call it. It was the tiny room the school allocated to the PTA to store items. Some of the remnants of the second-hand uniform sale were still there but now the space was shared with a mountain of bags placed haphazardly on shelves and the floor, spilling out with donated toys and games for the Christmas fair.
It was Lorna’s job to sort them. She sighed, knowing it would take her a significant amount of time. First she’d treat herself to a cup of tea and a custard cream, she thought, and headed to the staffroom. She passed Lara on the way. She was going into the girls’ toilets. Lorna would have said hi but Lara had her head down.
Refuelled with a tea and a chocolate digestive as well as a custard cream, Lorna went back to the broom cupboard. She set to work, splitting the games from the cuddly toys, the latter of which had their own stall, such was the sheer volume of them. In the past, the teachers manning the stall had been so desperate to get rid of them, they’d pretendedevery child’s lucky dip ticket was a win, much to the dismay of the mums. Soon Lorna had a shelf stacked with bags of lurid-coloured soft toys. She appraised them, shuddering as she considered how much bacteria might be harboured in all that synthetic fluff.
It was then she heard footsteps outside and looked out the cupboard to see Miss Young walk past at pace, a worried expression on her face.
‘Hi,’ Lorna called, as ever alert to any kind of ripple on the vital signs monitor of life.
Miss Young nodded briefly but hurried on.
Interesting, thought Lorna,I wonder what’s going on?
‘Everything OK?’ she called out.
Miss Young heard, Lorna knew she did, but she deliberately ignored her.Charming, thought Lorna.
She went back to the cupboard, this time pulling out all the jigsaws. She was still disgruntled. To think Lorna had spent the last couple of weeks collecting for Miss Young’s Christmas present! Almost two hundred and fifty pounds, if you don’t mind! It was extraordinary that so far, nearly every single child’s parent had put in. Even Mia’s mum had put in a fiver. Usually there were always one or two who abstained entirely, saying they didn’t see why a Christmas gift should be something a teacher should expect and they’d quite like a present themselves from their place of work thank you very much. Lorna thought it was probably down to her powers of persuasion – all that effort she was putting into tracking down every parent individually – and look at the thanks she got. It made her feel less guilty about the fact that not thewhole amount might find its way onto the voucher. After all, no one knew who had donated what. And it was only down to her own skills that there was that much in the pot anyway. Two hundred was still a very generous sum. Hell, even one hundred and fifty was a large amount! Anyone should be grateful to receive one hundred and fifty pounds.
Lorna could hear another pair of footsteps out in the corridor. She peered out: it was Mrs Fox, Miss Young’s teaching assistant. She looked harassed.
‘You haven’t seen Lara Miller, have you?’ she asked.
Lorna’s antennae picked up. ‘Why? Isn’t she in class?’
Mrs Fox shook her head. ‘Not for forty-five minutes. I’ve been sent to search the school premises for her.’ She looked around worriedly. ‘She left the class to use the toilet and never returned.’
Lorna felt a cold thrill run down her spine. ‘I saw her. When she went to the bathroom.’
Mrs Fox lit up. ‘You did?’
‘Yes, but only for a few seconds. I saw her go in but not come out again.’
The TA’s hopes were dashed.
‘Oh, I feel bad now,’ said Lorna. ‘I should have stopped her. She looked...I don’t know...worried. As if something was preying on her mind.’ Lorna wasn’t sure if that was entirely true, but it could have been.
‘OK. I need to keep searching. Will you let someone on the senior leadership team know if you see her?’
‘Of course.’ Lorna pulled her most empathetic face. ‘Poor you. And poor her,’ she added quickly.
Mrs Fox went on her way.Wow,thought Lorna,a child has absconded.It wasn’t often the school was the centre of such drama.
She was about to return to the cupboard – board games this time – when she heard the door buzz further down the corridor – the door that let people in from the outside. She saw Mr Whitman come out of his office and go to meet whoever was coming through.
