Chapter 17

The policeman behind the desk listened politely to what they had to say and then said, "But I don't know what you want us to do. I mean, she's a grown woman, isn't she? If she decides not to come back from holiday there's not a lot we can do about it, is there?"

"But that's just it,"Alison said, tears of frustration in her eyes, "She didn't decide. Something has happened to her."

"With all due respect, Miss -"

Alison sighed. Any sentence beginning with all due respect was bound to be the opposite.

"-you don't know that and we can't go starting a police investigation because some young woman-"

"Look,"Alison interrupted, "we do know that. It's entirely out of character for her to let anyone down. She's a school teacher for God's sake. Teachers can't just up sticks when they feel like it. If she had decided not to return she would have let people know. She would have come back to work her notice. SHE WOULD NOT HAVE JUST DISAPPEARED!"She realised she was shouting and her face was hot.

"And what about the information from my friend in Spain,"Heather added, in an ice-cold voice. "And the fact that the house she stayed in has been taken off the books. And the car being returned on the wrong day, probably by someone else. There's enough there to warrant further investigation, surely?"

The policeman sighed and cast his eyes heavenwards. Alison wanted to hit him.

"Look, if you insist, you can fill in a missing person report, but I doubt very much whether there's very much we can do."

"Of course there is,"Alison muttered, as she pulled the form towards her. "You can get the Spanish police involved. Interpol even."

Heather nudged her, the gesture clearly conveying there was no point.

Grumbling, Alison began to fill in the form.

~ * ~

The next day she felt oddly adrift. She seemed to have done all she could and was now left with nothing to do but wait. She wasn't very good at waiting.

Luckily she had a full teaching schedule that day - four morning classes and two in the afternoon. The third period was Spanish. She had intended to organise the room as a restaurant but at the last minute she changed her mind.

"Today,"she said, "we are in a travel agents and there are lots of brochures and posters about Spanish holidays. You can go to a typical coastal tourist resort like Marbella, with beaches and English pubs and discos, or you can go skiing in the Sierra Nevada, or you could have a cultural trip to one of the amazing Spanish cities like Granada or Cordoba."She became aware that everywhere she had mentioned so far was in Andalusia, the region where Miss Blacker had gone, but she ploughed on. "Or a little Spanish mountain village which has hardly changed in hundreds of years. Where would you go?"

"My granny's got an apartment in Ibiza, Miss. It's brilliant! We go dancing every night."

Mentally Alison rolled her eyes. Culture was a long way down the list for most of her pupils.

~ * ~

When she left at four o'clock, for the first time that week without some urgent Miss Blacker-related task, she saw Patsy once again waiting by the gate. She cast her mind back and had the distinct impression that the child had been there every single day, but this was the first time she had had time to stop and talk to her.

"Patsy?"The child looked up, her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed as if she'd been doing a lot of crying recently. "Oh, hello, Miss Metcalfe."She attempted a not very convincing smile.

Alison bent down to get to her level. "Are you OK? Are you waiting for your mummy?"

Ignoring the question, Patsy suddenly burst into tears. "She's not coming back, is she? My Auntie June. She's never coming back and it's all Mummy's fault."

"What?"

"My Mummy. She upset my Auntie June so much that she doesn't want to come back - ever."

"What did your mummy do?"

Patsy hiccupped. "It was at my birthday party. Everything was going really well until Mummy said that Granny was getting a bit frail and it was time Auntie June moved in to look after her. And Auntie June said, 'Out of the question,' and said she was going away for Christmas with a friend and then she flounced out."Patsy managed a half-hearted smile. "Mummy and my other aunties just sat and stared with their mouths open."The smile vanished. "And then they spent hours saying horrible things about Auntie June. It made me feel sick."

Alison put down her briefcase and sat on the wall next to Patsy. "So your mummy expects Auntie June to move in with your granny and look after her full-time?"

Patsy nodded. "Oh yes, she had it all arranged. Auntie June's the only one who isn't married, you see. It would be very convenient for the rest of them if she did it. Nobody else would have to make an effort."She looked up at the sky, squinting as if the watery winter sun was too bright. "Sometimes I hate my Mummy."

"You mustn't say that. I'm sure she's just trying to do what's best for everyone."

"Everyone except Auntie June,"Patsy muttered darkly.

"Anyway,"Alison said with a brightness that seemed brittle, even to her, "are you waiting for her to pick you up?"

"Yes, but she's probably forgotten again."

"What?"Alison was aghast.

"Auntie June usually takes me home, you see. We go to her house for tea and then she drops me off at home after."She began to sob again. "Of course, on Monday it wasn't Mummy's fault. She didn't know Auntie June hadn't come back."

"But-"Alison began, then stopped herself. Patsy was looking at her narrowly. "-er, I just thought she might have checked."She must have known. Miss Wetherspoon rang her.

"You know something, don't you?"

The child was too clever by half. "Her next-door neighbour rang your mummy to say your Auntie June hadn't returned and ask if she knew why."

"Oh, Mummy wouldn't have taken any notice of that,"Patsy said. "She only believes things that suit her."

Good God, Alison thought. The poor child.

"Look, would you like me to take you home? We could ring your mummy and tell her."

Patsy broke into a beaming smile. "Would you? I'd love that. I don't like walking back on my own. I'm a bit worried about the paedophiles."

Taken aback by the child's precocious vocabulary, Alison hid her amusement and bent down for her briefcase to extract her phone. And yes, there was the piece of paper on which she'd made a note of Miss Wetherspoon's number, Ruth's and that of the vet.