Nicola Barker - Behindlings

‘I have some rather bad news for you, sir,’ the male officer spoke first, earnestly clasping his two hands together and glancing over anxiously towards his female accomplice. She nodded back at him, curtly.

Ted was there. Wesley had insisted. He needed a witness, he’d said — always did with the Law — and, much more importantly, an intermediary, because he tried not to speak to the people Following. The police were no exception.

‘Do you want me to…’ At the mention of bad news, Ted indicated modestly towards the living room door, ‘I’m happy to make myself…’

‘Ask them if it’s about the boy,’ Wesley instructed brusquely, ‘ask them if it’s about Patty.’ Ted shrugged, half-apologetically, at the handsome male officer (Ed Cole. He’d found him a lovely semi in Ellesmere Road, only last year).

‘I have no information whatsoever, ’ the officer spoke to Wesley directly (ignoring Ted completely. Ted crumpled, involuntarily), ‘about any situation involving a boy. We’re here to discuss a girl. We’re here to talk about Sasha…’ he paused, uncertainly, ‘your daughter.’

Wesley was standing over by the window. He’d tugged the curtains aside and was gazing out through the nets. It was raining. Only lightly. Under the streetlight opposite he could see a lone figure.

The figure — the girl — the informer — the double-face… It had to be — was staring (shoulders slumped forward, rather poignantly) towards the small green house with the prodigious balcony. She muttered something — he saw a puff of steam, a tiny cloud condensing in the dark night air — then stepped down heavily into the gutter and slowly began walking.

The gutter…

Ah

Wesley turned, abruptly.

‘What did you just say?’

Ted could tell that he wasn’t concentrating.

‘Sasha,’ the male officer repeated, ‘your daughter. She appears to have gone… gone…’ he struggled to find a word in his vocabulary less frightening than missing, ‘walkabout,’ he said, finally.

Ted had a vision of the Duchess of Kent, in Eltham, opening a Conference Centre.

‘ Sasha. ’

Wesley repeated the name. It seemed alien to him. He paused, mulling it over.

‘Hang on,’ he suddenly butted in — although nobody else was actually speaking —‘has something happened to her?’

Still — Ted noticed — he seemed more irritated than concerned.

‘We hope not,’ the male officer spoke, ‘but her grandparents have reason to believe that she’s intent on making her way down here to Canvey. She disappeared first thing this morning. She took twenty pounds and left a note saying…’

‘But where’s her mother?’ Wesley asked.

‘Her mother…’ at last the woman officer felt able to contribute something, ‘is on the Island of Madeira. On Honey…’ she corrected herself, ‘on holiday. Her parents thought it best not to worry her — not at this early stage, anyway. As you probably already know, they currently enjoy full parental rights over the child — have done since she was a baby…’

‘Bloody Iris,’ Wesley muttered, ‘but the kid won’t get too far on twenty quid…’

‘I think you underestimate her,’ the female officer smiled, sarcastically, ‘apparently she’s very tenacious. Takes after her father.’

Wesley stiffened. He didn’t like this at all.

‘She’s been gone since first thing this morning…’

The male officer quickly took over. ‘She left for school, as normal, but didn’t arrive. In the light of your…’ he paused, ‘ celebrity, the force became involved a little earlier…’

He looked over at Wesley as if expecting some kind of commendation for the promptness of their reaction.

Wesley stared back blankly at him. Giving nothing.

‘We know she caught a… got on a train, ’ the officer stumbled, as if spooked by Wesley’s blankness, ‘to London. But we don’t know if she actually got there. She left a note saying…’

‘Was she alone?’

‘I was just getting to that part, sir. She took…’ the male officer faltered, ‘it sounds slightly…’ he grimaced, ‘she took a… a reindeer with her.’

‘She took a what? ’

Ted couldn’t help himself. The male officer turned towards him, almost smiling his relief. Ted’s cheeks reddened.

Wesley glanced over. The grandparents farm them,’ he explained, tightly, ‘they run a Christmas-themed Garden Centre in Norfolk. They keep,’ he held up his bad hand, smiling darkly, ‘beautiful exotic owls there.’

Ted shivered.

‘May I…’ the female officer spoke again. She was staring at Wesley’s shirt, his hands.

‘What?’

‘It’s just that you seem to be very… very bloody this evening, sir.’

Wesley shrugged, ‘I killed a rabbit earlier.’

‘Well it certainly must’ve put up quite a struggle, sir.’

She was mocking him.

‘I skinned it,’ Wesley growled, ‘and we’re having it for dinner.’

The female officer turned to the agent, her eyebrows raised, ‘Is that right, then, Ted?’

Ted opened his mouth. He shut it. He glanced over at Wesley whose jumper was — no point denying it — literally coated in bird down. He nodded his head.

‘How…’ to distract attention from the lie he addressed Wesley directly, ‘how old is she?’

‘Who?’

Ted swallowed, ‘Your… your missing daughter.’

Wesley shrugged, ‘Six… maybe seven.’

‘ Ten. ’

The female officer shot Wesley a potent look.

Wesley didn’t buckle. ‘I’ve never met the girl,’ he shrugged, ‘and the truth is that I have no interest in her. I had none when she wasn’t missing, so I might be in danger of seeming a little…’ he pondered, ‘ hypocritical if I suddenly began caring about her now that she is.’

The female officer considered his answer for a moment. ‘Do you ever actually think about anybody except yourself, sir?’

Wesley laughed out loud. A bark.

‘Of course not,’ he said, ‘what a silly question.’

‘That’s as may be…’ the male officer quickly stepped in (struggling to keep the atmosphere down to a simmer), his right hand clutching at the collar of his stiff white shirt –

So damn hot

– ‘But I’m sure you must still feel some… some concern over this situation, sir. She’s only young. It’s freezing outside. She’s coming down to see you. She left a note behind saying…’

‘In actual fact,’ Wesley interjected, ‘I’m not especially concerned. The girl has never been fed any illusions about my intentions towards her. I have none. I’d call myself the anti-father, but I’m too indifferent to be anti-anything. I am the non-dad. Is that…’ he paused, ‘does that explain my feelings with sufficient candour?’

‘She’s a ten-year-old child, ’ the female officer’s voice was harsh, ‘and it’s the middle of winter… ’

‘If you’re so concerned, madam,’ Wesley interrupted, ‘then perhaps you should be out in the cold looking for her instead of standing here and harassing me.’

‘She’s a ten-year-old child, in the pitch dark, alone…’

‘With a reindeer,’ Wesley corrected her. ‘I find it’s always a good ruse,’ he continued facetiously, ‘to take a deer along to increase your sense of anonymity. The force must be literally at their wits’ end trying to hunt her down. Talk about merging into the background…’

The female officer’s fists tightened. Wesley — observing as much — put his own hand to his cheek. His bad hand. Rested it there for a moment.