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Adam

Sophie stares at the countdown clock while Tom explains he’s taking unpaid leave to look after his elderly dad, who has Alzheimer’s.

I suggest we all meet for a drink next week.

Sophie agrees and asks after Tom’s dad before fading away from the conversation.

A melancholy expression has crept back into her eyes.

I don’t understand why; a minute ago she looked jubilant that we’d all reconnected to toast our lost school friends.

I pat my dinner jacket, checking for the final box that should, hopefully, lift her spirits. I need to find the perfect moment... probably after the last slow dance. My fingers creep back into my pocket, brushing against the solid velvet shape, as my phone vibrates.

Sophie jumps, almost spilling her drink, but I ignore the caller.

‘Monday or Tuesday is good for me,’ Tom says. ‘Dad’s carer will be there in the evenings.’

‘Hmmm. Shall we say Monday? I’ll give you my number.’

‘Great.’

I tap the digits into his phone and pass it back.

‘Thanks. Do you need to get that?’ He nods at my jacket.

I pull my phone from an inner pocket, checking the screen. ‘It’s Mum. I should take this, sorry... Wren might want something.’

‘No worries. I need to head off before Dad’s carer clocks off. See you both on Monday.’ He gives me a quick hug.

I step away, pressing my hand against my other ear to block out the music as I accept the call.

‘Adam!’ Mum says loudly. ‘Thank God you’ve picked up.’

Panic flutters in my throat. ‘W-w-what’s wrong?’

‘Wren’s missing! She’s not in the house. I’ve looked all over. She must have slipped out while I was on the phone to a friend.’

‘What?’ I spin around, staring at Sophie and Tom, who are embracing. ‘When...? How long has she been gone?’

‘About fifteen minutes. I left her watching TV in the sitting room while I went upstairs. When I came down, she wasn’t on the sofa. Her coat and wellies are gone from the back door.’

Sophie and Tom step closer, their eyes wide with concern. I quickly relay Mum’s news.

‘I don’t know where to look!’ Mum’s voice is high-pitched with panic. ‘Where would she go?’

Sophie squeezes my arm, but I can barely feel her fingers. My body has turned to ice from a mixture of fear and guilt over leaving her.

‘Check her bedroom and see if Carley’s urn is still there. It should be on the shelf near her bed.’

‘Why? Oh no! You don’t think she wants to empty it on her own?’

‘Just look, please!’

Mum’s breathing sounds laboured as she hurries up the stairs.

‘It’s not here,’ she says eventually. ‘But surely she wouldn’t? She doesn’t like the dark or loud noises.’

‘It’s the only thing that makes sense... Carley wanted her ashes to be scattered by the sea during a storm. I saw the forecast for next week and was going to suggest a day to do it together. I didn’t get round to it... Wren must have decided to go by herself.’

‘I’m heading down to the beach,’ Mum says briskly. ‘I’ll rally the neighbours. She can’t have gone far on her own. We’ll find her, Adam, I promise.’

‘I’ll grab a cab with Sophie and meet you there. Call the police if there’s no sign of her nearby... ring me as soon as you know anything.’

‘Will do. Bye, Adam. I love you.’

‘I love you too, Mum.’

She hangs up and I cling on to Sophie’s hand, my lifeline.

‘I could help look?’ Tom suggests. ‘It’s Bigbury beach, near your mum’s house, right?’

‘Thanks, but you should get back to your dad,’ I say. ‘I’ll message you when we find her.’

‘Call if you need me,’ he replies. ‘You know I’ll be there for you both. Good luck.’

Sophie leads me through the bodies on the dance floor and we burst into the lobby, which echoes with the pounding beat.

My heart thumps in time. I fetch our coats from the cloakroom and push through the revolving doors, the wind knocking the breath from my lungs.

Rain strikes my face. Sophie grasps my arm, her dress and hair rippling wildly, as we stagger on to the driveway.

Panic crushes my chest; no taxis are waiting for pick-ups.

Sophie whips out her phone. ‘Don’t worry. I have a local cab number.’

She darts back to the porch, shielding her other ear against the screech of the gale as she makes the call. I clench and unclench my fists, trying to control my breathing.

‘A car’s nearby,’ she says, stepping forward. ‘It should be here in ten to fifteen minutes. Come under here and shelter.’

How can we wait that long? What should I do? Fear spirals in my throat, threatening to choke me. My chest spasms. Wren’s alone in the dark. She could have wandered off a cliff or been knocked over by a car. I’m not there to save her.

‘We should start walking. All the cabs from town come along the same road. We can flag one down sooner.’

‘No, let’s stay here. It’s definitely coming.’

‘I can’t wait. Wren could be injured, or worse...’ I shudder. ‘We have to get to her before it’s too late!’

‘We will. She’s not going to die, Adam. I promise she’ll be okay.’ Sophie’s tone is strangely measured. She’s managing to keep it together, whereas I’m unravelling.

‘You don’t know that for sure. I have to go!’ I sprint off.

‘Come back, Adam!’

I switch on my phone’s torchlight as I reach the end of the driveway.

Shadowy memories jump out from the hedgerows.

This was me, almost ten years ago, running in a blind panic along the lane, except tonight the roles are reversed.

Sophie is chasing after me , frantically calling my name.

Her voice is tossed away, the wind smothering her shouts.

Car headlights sear the hedgerow, picking out a pair of glassy, staring eyes. A rabbit or a fox? I wave my phone, the light dancing around. The driver swerves to avoid me, hammering on the horn.

‘Adam!’ Sophie yells.

I jump on the narrow grass verge, waiting for her to catch up.

‘You have to stop!’ she says, gasping. ‘You’re not thinking straight. You’ll get yourself killed. We should go back and wait at the club.’

I shiver, rain dripping down my face. She’s right, I know she is, but I can’t stop.

Something visceral is driving me forward, overriding my rational thoughts.

I realise this must be what it means to really love your child: you’re prepared to risk everything, including your own life, to protect them from harm.

‘Please,’ she says, tugging my sleeve. ‘You’ll be knocked over, and that won’t help Wren!’

Another set of headlights illuminate the foliage, seconds before a car appears.

I ignore her warning and leap off the wet grass, waving my arms. Sophie screams as the vehicle slams on its brakes, sliding to a halt just metres away.

Result! It has a private hire sign on the roof.

I run over and hammer on the driver’s window. He unwinds it, glaring furiously.

‘What the hell? That’s a good way to get yourself killed.’

‘Sorry! Can you take us somewhere?’

‘Nah. I’m off shift. You’ll need to ring the office, but I doubt you’ll have much luck. Not many cars out tonight. The boss has pulled rides – it’s not safe on the back roads.’

I slam my hand down as he tries to wind up his window. ‘Please! I’ll pay ￡50 cash to get to Bigbury beach ASAP.’

He shakes his head. ‘No one’s getting anywhere ASAP.’

I push two ￡50 notes through the gap. ‘Whatever you can do to get us there quickly.’

He looks at me, debating, and shrugs. ‘The missus will kill me. But get in.’

I throw open the door and turn to Sophie. Her chest is heaving, her breathing shallow.

‘No, Adam!’ She catches my hand. ‘Please don’t.’

‘What’s wrong? He said he’ll take us.’

‘But it’s not the cab we booked.’

‘There’s no point waiting for ours. It’ll probably be cancelled. This could be our only chance to get there!’

She hangs on to my sleeve as I attempt to climb inside.

‘This is a bad idea.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘I’m afraid he’ll crash and you’ll be injured or worse.’

‘What? Why? Wren’s at risk, not me!’

Sophie shakes her head. She must be having a flashback to prom night. Unsurprising, given the circumstances: a last-minute decision to flag down a ride during a storm.

‘Tonight is different.’ I put my arm around her damp shoulders.

She’s shaking, almost uncontrollably, and still grasping my coat.

‘He’s a professional driver who knows these roads, not a drunk, speeding teenager.

He’ll take me to Wren. I’m not going to die, I promise.

Do you want to wait at the club...? I’ll understand if this is too hard for you. ’

Sophie studies my face before loosening her grip on my sleeve. ‘No! We’ll find her together. I’m not leaving you.’

She climbs into the cab first and I jump in, leaning through the gap in the seats. ‘Go, go, go!’

Before we’ve managed to strap in, a car looms, veering on to our side of the road.

White light dazzles.

Sophie screams.

I fly out of the seat, an unstoppable missile.