YOU FORGOT TO LOCK THE VAN,” JACK SAID. “LUCKY FOR ME.
My legs were giving up.”
Lois thoughts were in turmoil. Yes, she had forgotten to lock the van, and no wonder. This young person squatting behind her, having difficulty keeping his eyes open, had half the country worrying about him. Not to mention the taxpayers money spent on police procedures in the hunt to find him. She hadn’t thought about much else for the last forty-eight hours.
But what should she do now, and in what order? First, call Cowgill? Second, get Jack home to his mother. No, first, drive home slowly and ask him some questions as they went along? Then call Cowgill. She glanced back and saw that there was no dilemma. Jack Jr. had leaned against the back of her seat and was fast asleep.
He looks about five years old, thought Lois, taking the corners slowly so as not to wake him. He is small for his age, poor kid. Where has he been and what’s happened to him? But most of all, who took him?
When she drew up outside the Hickson house, she looked up and down the street. Nobody about. She had been able to cut through a private Tollervey-Jones estate road to avoid the police vigils. It was only a tiny track, with grass growing down the middle, but negotiable. Now she wanted to get Jack, still sleeping, into his house without anyone seeing. After that, she would talk to Paula and see what should be done next. Every maternal instinct in her body told her that the last thing Jack needed was interrogation by anyone. He needed sleep in his own bed, with his mother watching over him. After that, it would have to be the police. But Cowgill would see that this caused as little harm as possible to an already damaged child.
But how to get him out, down the garden path and into his house? He was too big for Lois to carry, and she dare not leave him alone in the van. She looked across at the shop, and saw the vicar, Father Rodney, emerging. He waved a friendly hand, and she made a quick decision. She lowered her window and beckoned. As he came near, she put her finger to her lips, signing him not to say anything. Then she waited until he bent down to the window and she could whisper in his ear, praying that he would do what she hoped.
He did. Without a change of expression, he looked into the back of the van, nodded briefly and disappeared round the back. Lois quietly opened her door and joined him, and together they slowly maneuvered Jack Jr., until Father Rodney had him securely in his arms. Nobody had appeared in the street, and with Lois shielding the still sleeping Jack from watchful eyes, they moved quickly into the garden and round to the back door. There Paula stood holding a basketful of wet washing, pale as a ghost and apparently paralyzed with shock at the sight of a limp Jack held tenderly by the vicar.
Lois took her by the arm, said quietly that they should take Jack upstairs and try not to wake him. “He’s exhausted, Paula,” she said. “But alive.”
Father Rodney and Lois left Paula with her son, and they returned to the kitchen, where Frankie sat in his high chair, staring at them with a wobbling chin. Lois forestalled a burst of crying, and lifted him out, cuddling him close. “Let’s go and find some toys,” she said and motioned to the vicar to go with them into the sitting room. He followed quietly and they settled down. Father Rodney proved to be a dab hand at wooden puzzles, and whilst he kept Frankie busy, Lois talked.
“Please don’t say anything to anybody,” she pleaded, knowing that the apparently sensible thing would be to contact the police at once. To her surprise, Father Rodney agreed without protest. “A couple of hours good sleep is not going to make much difference to anybody except young Jack,” he said. “I shall leave it you, Mrs. Meade, to know when to make the next move. The boy obviously trusts you, else he wouldn’t have crawled into your van. And Mrs. Hickson works for you? So together you will do the best for Jack. I shall go now. It will not look at all odd for me to be seen leaving, since I was actually on my way to offer what comfort I could to Jack’s mother.”
Lois picked up Frankie and saw the vicar to the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” she said.
After half an hour or so, Paula came downstairs. She stood looking at Lois and Frankie, and tried to say something, but choked. Then she walked across the room and put her arms around both. They stood unmoving for a few minutes, then Frankie began to struggle.
“He’s hungry, I expect,” said Lois, sniffing loudly. “Come on, let’s go and find him a biscuit.”