Elisabeth Carpenter - 99 Red Balloons

Karl brings the drinks over. Mine is only on the table for a second before I pick it up and take a large sip. So crisp and cold I almost shiver. I place it in front of me, drawing a line through the condensation with my finger.

‘It feels trite to ask you how everyone is,’ he says. ‘But, how are you?’

I lean back against the booth. People around us are no longer staring, but talking amongst themselves. If they’re eavesdropping, they’re doing a great job at pretending they aren’t.

‘I’m doing well if I haven’t cried in thirty minutes. I can’t imagine what Emma and Matt are going through.’ I grab the glass and take several gulps. ‘Actually, I can. And it’s… it’s unbearable. The worst thing that can happen to a parent.’ I put the heels of my palms against my eyes in the hope it will stop the tears coming out.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he says.

Poor bloke. We’ve been seeing each other for a month. I can’t actually believe he’s here. Neil wouldn’t have been, I’m sure of that.

‘I’ve been following it on the news,’ he says.

‘Really?’

He pulls his stool nearer to the table. ‘Shit, not in a stalker kind of way – in an interested kind of way. God, I’m not explaining it very well.’

I put my hand on his. The wine is emboldening me. ‘It’s okay. I know what you mean.’

‘It’s because it’s your niece. And because I care about you.’

I take my hand off, and clasp it with my other on my lap.

‘Oh God, you think I’m a weirdo now, don’t you?’

He looks around the pub, his knees are bouncing up and down.

‘Chill out, will you?’ I say. ‘I don’t think you’re a weirdo.’

I smile at him to let him know I’m not just saying that, and his knees stop moving.

‘Good.’

‘How are they coping without me at work?’

He rolls his eyes. ‘Well, Nicola keeps saying that we’re fine, but she’s shouting at everyone. Sandy’s taken over your accounts, and obviously not doing as well as you, so she’s having a ball.’

‘Shit, sorry.’

‘Don’t ever apologise, Steph. Everyone understands. It’s making them see the bigger picture.’

I raise my eyebrows.

‘Bloody hell, I’m talking in clichés again, aren’t I? I need to get a new job.’

I smile and pick at the beer mat under my glass.

‘I think Emma’s having an affair. Some bloke keeps ringing her on her work phone – even though I never knew she even had a work phone. It can’t be just a colleague if he’s ringing her constantly at a time like this, can it?’ I don’t wait for Karl to reply. ‘But what I’m really scared of, Karl, is that Emma’s real mum might’ve taken Grace. Emma hasn’t seen her since she was a kid.’

Karl spits out the beer he was drinking.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Sorry.’

I take my glass and drink the last of my wine. He asks if I want another. I said I only wanted one before we got here, but nod anyway.

‘So,’ he says, putting the new drinks on the table, ‘you think all of this, but have you told the police?’

‘No. I’m not sure Emma knows about her mum.’

He’s frowning. ‘But surely she was old enough to realise. It’s too important to keep from the police.’

I fold my arms; it’s cold in here.

‘She’s already given the police the name of this man. She said he was stalking her.’

‘I didn’t mean that. I meant about her mum. What if she hired someone to get Grace?’

‘I keep thinking that, but she wasn’t even bothered about her when she gave her away, was she? Why would she be bothered now?’

‘People change. Clarity. She might have been searching for her for years.’

‘But Mum said she didn’t give a shit. People like that never change.’

He tilts his head to one side; the thing people do when they either feel sorry for you, or think you’re stupid.

‘People can change.’

I push my glass further away from me.

‘I need to go.’

‘I’m sorry you had to see me like this,’ I say.

We’re outside Emma and Matt’s and I’m still dreading going inside.

‘Don’t say you’re sorry. I’d be an absolute mess if it were one of my nieces.’

‘You have nieces?’

He puts his hands in his pockets again. It’s actually cute the way he does it. That wine must have gone to my head.

‘Three. My brother has one daughter, and a son, and my sister has two girls.’

‘It’s strange that I’m just learning these things about you.’ I rub my forehead. ‘Sorry, I think I’m pissed already. I thought I’d become a hardened drinker after these past few days.’

Shit, what am I saying to him?

He takes a hand out of his pocket and rubs my left arm. ‘I’d be pissed all the time.’

He leans over to me, I’m worried that he’s going to kiss me. I can’t do this, not now.

My shoulders relax as he kisses my cheek.

‘Just ring me or text me if you need me. I’ll be here.’

‘Thank you.’

I stand with my back to the gate, watching him walk away. I can’t believe he came. He’s braver than I am. That’s what I need in my life, someone fearless.

When I step inside the house, the warmth is suffocating. I wait outside the sitting-room door, listening for the sound of news. I breathe in and push down the handle.

‘You’re back at last!’ says Matt. He’s pacing the carpet again. ‘Perhaps you’ll get some sense out of her.’

Emma, sitting in the chair by the window, winces at the word her .

‘I’m not talking to you when you’re like this,’ she says.

‘So what did you expect me to be like, eh? Okay, Emma, love of my life. Who is this man that was stalking you for months? Who is this man I could have put in his fucking place? Eh?’

Emma looks to the window. It’s dark outside and the curtains are open.

‘Do you think he’s taken Grace? Do you?’ He’s kneeling next to her, his face just inches from hers.

They must have had this conversation too many times since I left.

‘Where’s Mum?’ I’m standing in the middle of the room; I feel helpless.

Matt stands up. ‘Now, where is your mother? She’s on the patio having a fucking cigarette. Said she’d had enough and she’s going outside for some fucking fresh air. Bet she thinks we don’t know, but we do. Probably on her third by now, with a bottle of wine next to her. That’s where your bloody mother is.’

I turn my back on him, and walk slowly into the kitchen. He’s lying. Mum smoking? As if.

As soon as I get into the kitchen I can smell it. I pull open the door and step outside, sliding the door shut behind me. Mum is sitting on a white patio chair, a bottle of wine and a half-empty glass on the plastic table in front of her. She holds up her hand – the one with the cigarette in it.

‘Don’t say a word about the ciggie,’ she says. Ciggie?

I pull out the chair next to her and sit down.

‘Okay.’

‘Shall I get you a glass?’

‘No, I’m fine.’

She shrugs. ‘Fair enough.’

I think she’s had more than what’s gone from the bottle. She would never have smoked in front of us. Or would she? I can’t remember.

I put my hands under my thighs to try to warm them. I need to say it. While she’s like this – it’s the only chance I might get.

‘Can I ask you something, Mum?’

She nods, but doesn’t look at me. Instead she takes a drag on the cigarette. It’s so weird seeing her like this.

‘This note. It’s payback time . Do you think it might be Emma’s mum? Is she the type of person to take Grace?’

She’s frowning when she turns to face me. She stares at me for what feels like five minutes before she opens her mouth to speak.