Sloan paused on the top step and turned back. “Yes, Matty?”
“This morning was...worth the wait.”
A slow smile touched Sloan’s mouth. “Yes...it was.”
Chapter forty-seven
“Okay, so where do you want to start?” Matty asked Sloan as they climbed from the car and scanned the car park.
“I have no clue,” Sloan admitted, pulling her sunglasses down from where they’d been holding her hair back. She exhaled and suggested, “Maybe just walk the high street and see if we can spot her?”
Matty walked around the front of the car and stopped in front of Sloan. “Alright,” she said, letting her fingers find Sloan’s and interlock with them. “And remember, she’s a grown woman and she’s allowed to make her own decisions, even if they are potentially dangerous.”
“I’m not a child, Matty.”
“You are. You’reherchild, and you’re worried, and that’s understandable.”
“Iamworried. I lost my dad, and now...she’s making it difficult.”
Matty squeezed her fingers. “You don’t want to lose her, I know.” She tugged Sloan’s hand. “Come on, let’s find her first. Then later, maybe, we can finish what we started this morning.”
Sloan rolled her eyes. “I’m not in the mood for flirtation right now.”
“Fair point,” Matty said.
Sloan stopped and pulled Matty back. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean—”
“I get it,” Matty interjected. Her palm rose to cup Sloan’s cheek. “I get it.”
Sloan nodded. “Okay.”
They walked on, passing shops and people, and occasionally another older person on a scooter, none of it offering any sign of Gloria.
“What if she didn’t come into town?” Sloan said abruptly and let go of her hand. “She could be anywhere.”
“Is there somewhere she used to go? Something she used to do often that she might be missing?”
Sloan puffed out her cheeks and thought until she had a potential answer. “Dancing? With Dad? But that was years ago, and the dancehall isn’t even there anymore.”
“Okay...” Matty looked around and came up with nothing.
“There was a pub they used to frequent. The Frog and something?”
“Duck?” Matty smiled. “That’s round the back from my place.”
Sloan’s face brightened. “I guess it’s worth a try.”
“Come on, I know a shortcut.” Matty took her hand and tugged her along, taking a left into a side street.
A brisk, ten-minute walk brought them to the door of the old pub. It looked as though it'd had a makeover recently, with fresh paint and a huge board out front reading:Welcome one and all—Denise & Del.
“Look,” Matty said, pointing down the other side of the building. A bright, shiny scooter was parked up, its rider nowhere in sight. “That looks very much like the one Gloria has.”
Sloan pushed the door open and stepped inside, just in time to hear raucous laughter coming from one end of the bar.
She scanned the room. When she couldn’t see her mother, she just followed the sound of that familiar cackle. Gloria was sitting on a barstool. Two men younger than Sloan stood either side of her, laughing at whatever Gloria had just said to them.
One of the men glanced past Gloria and spotted them. He smiled and waved. “Matty!”
