THE CHURCH CHOIR WAS ASSEMBLING IN DRIBS AND DRABS and Father Rodney greeted them at the door. Much to their relief, he had announced early on that he would not be joining them, but would give them every support. “Evening, Tony,” he said. “Did you have any luck with young Hickson?”
“Don’t know yet, Vicar,” he said. “We shall see if he turns up. Irene had a word with his mother, and she was all for it. Promised not to tell anyone. The lad was worried about what the thugs on the bus would do to him if they found out.”
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” said the vicar vigorously. “But I do understand. Young people today are so obsessed with being cool, and sadly anything to do with church seems to be about as uncool as they could imagine.”
“Not all, Father Rodney. A lot depends on the church.”
Father Rodney frowned. Was there a criticism there? He would have to give it some thought. Anthea had been the one most in touch with the new, edgy generation, and would gently guide him into the best way to handle them, if he ever got the chance. For the first time, he wondered whether he should perhaps think about another partner to share his thoughts.
“Right,” said Tony, “are we all here?”
“No need to keep looking at the door, Tony. All present and correct,” said the lead soprano, an upright, chilly figure with a loud voice and deaf ear, so that every hymn or anthem was for her an opportunity for a solo performance.
Tony looked anxiously at his watch. Irene, sitting in her chair at the end of one of the choir stalls, beckoned to him. “He’s not coming, I’m afraid,” she whispered. “Better get started.”
“Right, everybody,” Tony said, looking sadly at the assorted group. You couldn’t blame the lad. Who’d want to be numbered amongst this little lot? Certainly not a scared boy of thirteen. It was possible he might come along late, but he doubted it.
Choir practise was scheduled to last an hour, and although Tony added another hymn for them to go through, Jack Jr. did not appear. Then only Tony and Irene remained in the church, and he asked her if she minded waiting a short while longer. “These books are in a terrible state,” he said. “I could just sort them out, so it’d be easier to find them next time.”
Irene said that was fine, and thought to herself that poor old Tony was still hoping the boy might turn up with a good excuse. Finally they locked up the church and started on their way home. Halfway down the street, just as they were about to turn into their lane, Tony saw a figure hurrying towards them. It was not Jack, but his mother, and she hailed them without pleasantries.
“Where’s my Jack?” she said baldly.
“We’ve not seen him, Mrs. Hickson,” said Irene.
“He didn’t turn up,” Tony added.
“What? But he… Well, he set off about quarter past seven, saying he was going to church, to choir practise! I was so pleased!”
Irene shook her head sadly. “He must have gone somewhere else,” she said gently. “Maybe one of his friends?”
“Oh, God, not again,” Paula said. “I thought he’d stopped all that lying and staying out late an’ not telling me. I’ve left the kids, anyway,” she said, turning back, “so I’d better get home. Sorry about that, Mr. Dibson. He’ll get a good telling off from me when he does appear.”
Tony and Irene were silent for a moment, and then Irene said, “What d’you think? He did seem honest enough, that time he pushed me back.”
“Don’t ask me,” he replied. “I sometimes think children are a mixed blessing.”
As soon as he’d said it, he knew it was a mistake. “I could do with a blessing, mixed or otherwise,” Irene said, and again relapsed into silence.
BY TEN O’CLOCK, PAULA WAS REALLY WORRIED. SHE HAD RUNG Jack’s friend, but he was not there and they hadn’t heard from him. Then she tried the one teacher at his school who had taken an interest in him, and who lived in Fletching. He had probably broken rules in giving her his phone number for emergency purposes, and she had never rung him before. Now he advised her to ring the police, saying that even if Jack Jr. turned up, they never treated it as a waste of time, not with a thirteen-year-old.
Lastly, Paula rang Lois, the one she trusted most, but had least wanted to disturb at this hour. Her boss’s levelheaded dealings with the New Brooms team had given Paula reassurance when she most needed it, and now, when she heard Lois’s firm voice, she took a deep breath and explained the situation.
“He’s stayed out all night before, hasn’t he?” Lois said.
“Yeah, but it’s always been after school, an’ when I’ve checked, he really was where he said he was.”
“And this time? Had he been home for tea?”
“Yes. He’d even washed his hands after. Unheard of. I teased him a bit about being clean in church, and he’d laughed. He was in a really good mood, Mrs. M. Not like when he was late after school.”
“Give me a few minutes, Paula, and I’ll ring you back,” Lois said. She had a cold, sinking feeling and wanted to have a word with Derek. Why was she assuming the worst? Because absentee fathers had been known to abduct a child for various reasons, and not just for ransom money.
To her surprise, Derek didn’t dismiss it with a view that Jack Jr. would turn up sooner or later. He asked her the same questions she had asked Paula, and then said, “Go on, then. Ring him.”
Lois stared at him. “Ring who?” she said.
“You know perfectly well who,” Derek said. “But you’ll have to tell him everything you know, else it’ll not be fair. Go on, do it.”
COWGILL HAD HAD A PLEASANT DAY ON THE GOLF COURSE, AND was sipping a small whisky nightcap when the phone rang. Ah, well, he said to himself, it was too good to last. Then when he heard Lois’s voice he knew that much as he loved her, it was not good news. She would not ring him at this hour unless something bad had happened.
“Cowgill?”
“Evening, Lois. How are you, my dear?”
“Never mind about that,” Lois said. “I’m reporting a missing thirteen-year-old boy. And before you say anything, it’s young Jack Hickson. Yes, the Hicksons who live in Farnden. Runaway husband, four young kids, Jack’s been in trouble at school.”
“Yes, yes,” Cowgill said swiftly. “I remember. How long has he been missing? Why is it you ringing me and not his mother?”
“Just be here,” Lois said, “in twenty minutes. Come here first. And,” she added, “tread softly. Paula Hickson doesn’t know I’m talking to you.”
“But, Lois…” She had ended the call abruptly, as usual, and he got up from his chair at once. He knew his Lois. If she considered the matter an emergency, he did not doubt her. He took his car key off the hook and went out into his garage. In twenty minutes time, he was drawing up outside Lois’s house and saw her waiting on the doorstep for him.
To his amazement, she took his hand, and he could feel her trembling. “Thanks,” she said. “Come in. Derek knows all about it, and Gran’s babysitting for Paula.”
When they entered the sitting room, Cowgill saw Derek standing by the window and a woman he vaguely recognized sitting on the sofa. He realised she was Jack’s mother, and when Lois introduced them, he thought he had never seen such an anxious-looking woman, and he’d seen a few in his time.
It was Paula who spoke first. “It wasn’t me who phoned you,” she blurted out. “It was Mrs. M. I didn’t want to waste police time…”
Cowgill said quietly that he knew it was Mrs. Meade who had asked him to come over. “Please be assured that young boys go missing all the time, but every time we take it very seriously. It’s often part of growing up. Giving their parents a good scare and proving they’re not children anymore.”
“Parent, Inspector,” Derek said. “Mrs. Hickson is a lone parent at the moment.”
“And has had trouble with Jack as a result,” Lois said, putting her hand on Paula’s arm. She had talked firmly to Paula after ringing Cowgill, and persuaded her that now there was no option but to tell the police. She could see the poor woman was torn between finding her son and betraying her husband, if that was necessary, but luckily the maternal instinct won, and Paula had agreed.
When Cowgill had taken down all the details, he said Paula could go back home. “You’re the best person to be there when he comes back or gets in touch,” he said.
“I’ll see you safely back,” Derek said, and insisted on taking Paula the few yards to her house. He then waited with her whilst they gave Gran an edited version of what had happened. Gran was unusually gentle and calm. Instead of stating her sharp opinion on the state of the world in general and young people in particular, she recalled the time when Josie had gone missing, but had been found safe and well.
“Try not to worry too much, dear,” she had said. “And if you want to talk to someone while you’re stuck here with the babies, just give me a ring and I’ll pop over.”
After Derek and Paula had gone, Cowgill and Lois sat in silence for a few seconds. Then he reached across and took her hand. “Come on, then, my Lois,” he said. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
Lois did not take her hand away, but nodded miserably. “Why didn’t you ask her about her husband?” she said.
“Because I was sure you would know all about him, and were more likely to tell me the truth. So tell me.”
She told him about the man losing his job, hitting the bottle and then hitting his wife, being chucked out and disappearing, only to reappear as a gardener at the hall. Now she felt set free and floating with relief at having off-loaded it all on to Cowgill. Gran had warned her, and had been right. But was avoiding all possible involvement in other people’s troubles right?
The feeling of relief did not last long. Now a child of thirteen had disappeared. And not just any old child. This was Jack Jr., who sometimes behaved like a monster, scorning help and causing endless worry to his mother. And farting in her van! This was Jack Jr., whose father had run away and deserted him, leaving him to cope alone with bullies and a predatory drug dealer.
Cowgill stood up. “I need to get back straightaway to the station,” he said. “The sooner we get things moving the better. The first forty-eight hours are the most important in cases like this.”
Lois took him to the door. He leaned forwards and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Take care of yourself, Lois. Don’t do anything stupid, and keep in touch with me.”
He met Derek and Gran coming up the drive to the house, and stopped for a brief word. Then he was gone, and Lois touched her cheek with her fingertips.
“What are you smiling about?” Derek said, as they entered the house. “Has Jack been found?”
“No, and I’m not smiling,” Lois replied sharply.
“I see,” said Derek grimly. “Just a facial twitch? Anyway, we’d better have a family conference, see what we can do to help.”
It was now eleven o’clock, but Lois insisted on ringing Josie and Douglas, and Gran insisted on staying up until they’d all decided what would be best. “I suppose it’ll be on the telly news in the morning,” she said, “and then the Advertiser will be on to it. Let’s hope he’s found before all that malarkey.”
“It’s important people start thinking about what they’ve seen, and keep their eyes open,” Lois said. “The first forty-eight hours are critical, Cowgill said.”