Anyway.
It took me about thirty seconds. Packing, I mean. I would have taken longer over it if I’d known we’d be gone for two whole nights, and if I’d known what was going to happen with the weather. But it had been dry for so long, it seemed like it wouldn’t ever rain again. Hard to believe now, right?
Next up was Abi. And I swear to God we had to stop her from packing her hair dryer. She didn’t take much convincing, though, and I remember being impressed at the time. I guessed her dad was probably on one, and she was desperate to get out of the house. Abi’s dad is always giving her a hard time about something. She’s too fat, too thin, too ugly, too stupid. He’s basically the opposite of my parents, who are so wrapped up in their own shit, they probably wouldn’t notice if I did just move to Arizona. I’m talking about my mum, really. Chris, my stepdad, doesn’t really count, because he’s barely any older than I am. He’s like, twenty-nine or something stupid, which is why my mum married him in the first place. Because she’s in denial, basically. That she’s forty, not twenty-fucking-four. She pretends to herself I’m, like, her little sister or something, because she can’t accept that she’s old enough to have a teenage daughter.
But anyway, with Abi I assumed that was what it was, and that she was as upset about Sadie as she said she was. Because that was the other thing: she made out like it was such a big relief to finally be doing something other than sitting around waiting for news. But really she was just like all the rest of us. The truth is she only came because she had to. Because she was worried about what we’d find.
Luke was trickier. We went to him next—me, Fash and Abi. And with Luke, it . . .
God. If only we’d . . .
No, I’m not fucking OK. Why the hell would I be OK? About any of this?
I keep seeing him lying there. Just . . . lying there, and . . . and none of us able to do anything, except . . . except . . .
No, it’s fine.
I said no, OK? A break’s not going to help anything.
What I was saying was, with Luke, when we went to get him . . . it was complicated, that’s all. I mean, Sadie was his sister. His twin. So can you imagine? Not only is your sister missing, presumed . . . presumed all sorts of stuff. But your parents are pretty much AWOL, too. Emotionally, anyway, at least in terms of him and Dylan. God, poor Dylan. I mean, for Mr. and Mrs. S it’s only ever been about Sadie. They’ve always been convinced she was going to be this superstar—an actor, a dancer, whatever, because Sadie could do pretty much anything, and they’ve been pushing her down that path since she was four. Stage school, singing lessons, private coaching, all that. And what that meant was, Luke and Dylan got . . . not neglected, exactly. Overlooked. Which was fine as far as Luke was concerned, because he’s always been kind of self-sufficient—just getting on with things in his own way. But for Dylan . . . I mean, he’s twelve, so it wasn’t the same as when he was younger, but Dylan’s always been . . . tricky. Like, not as bright as his brother and sister, for one thing, nowhere near as bright, to the extent his parents were convinced for ages that there was something wrong with him. ADHD or whatever you call it. They had him on Ritalin and everything, until Luke convinced them to take him off it. If you ask me, the only thing Dylan needed was some attention from his mum and dad, and maybe a bit of help at school. But there was fat chance of that. Instead, Luke was basically the one taking care of him. Sadie helped, too, when she could, but most of the responsibility fell to Luke.
And Dylan was there when we stopped by. That day, I mean. The day we left. We knew their parents wouldn’t be. They’d basically spent every day since Sadie went missing down by the river. But I guess we forgot about Dylan, and it was because of him that Luke refused to come with us. Well, what he said was, he couldn’t.
“What am I supposed to do with Dylan?” he said. “Just leave him here on his own?”
We were standing on Luke’s doorstep, and I could see Dylan behind him in the living room, sitting on the sofa. Normally he would have been playing one of his video games, but today he was just staring at the TV. I don’t think he’d even registered the doorbell. Up until then I’d barely even thought about Dylan, about how he must have been missing Sadie, too. But it suddenly struck me that he was probably taking it as hard as anyone. Harder maybe, because Dylan worshipped Sadie almost as much as Sadie’s dad did, and I doubt he really understood what was going on.
“It’ll only be for an hour or two,” said Fash. “Your parents will be back soon, right?”
Luke sniffed. “Who knows?” he said. “They might be out all night if someone doesn’t give them a shove in the right direction. Although my aunt said she’d come by to make us dinner.”
“So there you go then,” Fash said, like that settled it.
Luke looked doubtfully over his shoulder.
“For Christ’s sake, Luke,” I chipped in. “Dylan’s not a baby anymore. Do you think your parents would give leaving him alone
