Anyway, the idea was I gave her my most precious thing, and she gave me hers in return, which turned out to be this watch. And the thing was, until she went missing, I could never bring myself to look at it. Because I’d cheated her, you see. I knew for a fact she treasured that watch more than anything, but I lied about which doll I loved most. And that’s what I couldn’t stop thinking about. As I lay there staring at the second hand, I couldn’t help wondering if that’s why Sadie had gone missing. Because of me. Because I’d broken some sacred bond.
It’s stupid, I know. Don’t think I don’t realize how it sounds. But that’s basically what I was thinking about, until Fash showed up at my door.
I could tell it was him from the fact he knocked. He’s always been polite like that. Too polite, mostly, which is what we keep telling him. But it’s basically us versus his mum, and I think we all know who’s going to win that battle.
But what I mean is, the others, they tend to just climb up the pear tree outside my bedroom window and scare me half to death by rapping on the glass. Or, sometimes, by actually climbing right inside. Mason, one time, he hid inside my wardrobe. This was back when me and him . . . when we were closer. And my heart literally exploded. Not literally, obviously, but if it had it would have served him right.
It took Fash a while to convince me. I think that surprised him. I mean, that’s obviously why he came to me before the others, because he thought I’d be the easiest sell. But at first I couldn’t see the point. Where would we look, for one thing? And why did we have a better chance of finding Sadie than anyone else? But Fash had answers prepared for both of those questions. Which, had I thought about it, should probably have rung alarm bells at the time.
But what he said was, Sadie might still be out there. Alone somewhere, hurt maybe, and for all we knew, everyone else was looking for her in the wrong place. Why weren’t they looking in the woods? We knew Sadie liked to go walking there. We all did. When we were young the woods had basically been our playground—we’d climb trees, play manhunt, all that—and Fash’s point was, we knew them better than anyone.
And the other thing he said was, why not go? You know? Because the alternative was to keep doing what we’d been doing, and Fash made out he was as sick of waiting around as I was.
So I agreed. And Fash grinned, all relieved and that. Which should have been another clue. But at the time all I was thinking about was how long it had been since I’d last seen anyone smile. And Fash, he’s kind of funny-looking anyway. Not ugly, I don’t mean that. He’s tall and he’s dark, obviously, and he’s got nice eyes, but he’s also a bit . . . gangly. Like his bones are a size too big for his body, even in his face. You’ve seen him, you know. So all I’m saying is, when Fash smiles, it’s almost impossible not to smile back.
“So what are we waiting for?” Fash said. “Let’s get going.” We were in my room, and Fash was sitting on my bed. He patted the rucksack he’d dropped onto the mattress. It was his schoolbag, so I hadn’t really noticed it until then. I should have, I suppose, seeing as it was still the summer holidays.
“Now, you mean? But what about . . . I don’t know. Our parents. Your mum.”
Fash’s expression sort of clouded. Fash’s mum . . . she doesn’t hit him or anything like that. She’s not like Mason’s dad, for example, and she’s not an arsehole like Abi’s. But even so, she’s got this control over him. I mean, strict is putting it mildly. She’s protective, is what it is. If she could, she’d put him in a box, and only bring him out on special occasions.
“I told her I’m staying the night at Mason’s,” Fash said, and I could see how bad he felt about having lied to her. “And your parents are out, right? Which, the way I figure it, gives us until teatime tomorrow. And, anyway, the day after that, we’re supposed to be back at school.”
Which I’d almost forgotten about. Going back to school. Starting sixth form. Or, actually, I didn’t forget. The truth is I’d been trying not to think about it: the idea of going back to school without Sadie. Without even knowing what happened to her.
So I started packing. I did what Fash did, and used my schoolbag. He told me he would have brought something bigger, but chances were we’d be spotted by someone on our way out of town, and he didn’t want people to start asking questions. What he meant was, he didn’t want anyone spreading rumors. Even more rumors, that is.
That’s the problem with living where we do. When I’m old enough I’m going to move to Australia. Arizona. Some place with no rivers, no woods. No crappy fairgrounds and cheap-arse tourists. No washout summers. No . . . no frigging ice cream vans. Seriously, how many ice cream vans does one town need? No caravan parks. No caravans, full stop. No wind. Nothing above a gentle breeze. No Harvesters. No sodding Morrisons. No net curtains, either, or people who know your name. Nobody who knows your business when you don’t want them to.
No woods. Have I said that already?
Well, anyway, it’s worth saying twice.
Lots of people. Hundreds of thousands of them preferably. Millions. Or, failing that, none at all.
The population
