Page 9 of Little Children (Detective Kim Stone #22)

Eight

NOAH

Noah felt the sickness in his stomach before he even opened his eyes. The second thing he felt was panic. He knew something was wrong immediately, but his head felt fuzzy and full of clouds.

He opened his eyes and his stomach turned in fear.

The room was the size of the box room at home that his mum used for her crafts.

But this one didn’t have a desk or a sewing machine or baskets of wool.

This one was dark, with a dirty window that let in a thin shaft of light that cut across his toes.

There was a smell that reminded him of an underpass in town.

A bucket sat in the corner, and lying beside him was a packet of biscuits and a bottle of water. He searched his memory, trying to recall how he’d got here.

He remembered being out with his parents.

It was his birthday. They went to the arcade.

He had money to spend. His parents went across the road to get a table.

He followed a few minutes behind. He frowned.

The memory became harder to grasp. He remembered leaving South Pier.

He recalled looking across the road to see if he could see them.

He remembered crossing the tram line to get to the pavement.

His heart leaped in his chest as he remembered being grabbed from behind.

He’d been too surprised to fight back. He hadn’t known what was happening, then a door opened, nearly hitting him in the face.

There was the sound of his shoes hitting metal as he was thrust into darkness.

Someone grabbed him and covered his mouth.

He tried to scream, but water was poured into his mouth.

He had no choice but to swallow. The van started moving.

He was forced to take another drink, and then he was held so he couldn’t struggle.

After that, he vaguely remembered being carried and being given another drink…Was that when he’d arrived here?

The memory made him realise that he needed to pee, but there was no toilet. The urge had gone from non-existent to urgent in seconds. He felt like he was about to burst.

He pushed himself to a standing position, but his whole body felt weak.

He swayed backwards against the wall as his head felt woozy.

He swallowed a few times and then pushed himself towards the corner of the room, where he unzipped his trousers and relieved himself in the bucket.

His mum would be so angry if she could see him now.

She had once seen a boy having a wee behind a tree at the park and she hadn’t liked it. He resolved that he’d never tell her.

The effort of standing suddenly overwhelmed him. He zipped up his trousers and staggered back to the corner. His body sighed with relief as he lowered himself down to the cold, hard ground.

The fog in his mind was starting to clear, allowing questions to make themselves known. Each question brought a fresh stab of fear, stronger than the last.

Why had he been taken?

What were they going to do to him?

Would he ever see his family again?

He choked back a sob as he realised that there were two possible answers to the last question, then pushed the thought away. They would find him. They would be out looking, and his dad would knock down anyone who got in his way.

He kept telling himself that over and over again until he heard a key turn in the lock.

His bravery departed, and he had the sudden need to pee again.

A man entered the room wearing a mask. He closed the door behind him and towered above Noah.

Noah pushed himself into a corner as the man spoke.

‘Okay, young Noah, let’s have a good hard look at you.’