I don’t regret becoming a policewoman one bit because I know that this is the job that has provided a good life for Chloe and me, or at least, I hadn’t regretted it until today.
Now, I am starting to have second thoughts.
I stare out of the window at the house we have just parked outside of, and while I don’t know who is inside it, the terrible feeling in my stomach tells me this won’t be good. The fact that a police car is already parked outside it only makes me feel worse.
‘Back in a sec,’ the officer behind the wheel of the minivan says as he gets out and slams the door shut.
I watch him walk up the driveway of the house as my fellow officers in the back of the van discuss what this might all be about. But I don’t engage in any speculation, instead keeping my eyes on the driver, who has now knocked on the front door and is waiting for it to be answered.
It’s another officer who opens it, and I recognise him.
‘Smithy’s in there,’ I say, and everybody seated around me turns and looks towards the house.
‘It can’t be anything exciting if they’ve put him on it,’ says a voice from the back of the van and everybody laughs. Everybody except me. I still have that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach though I’m not sure why.
We all continue to watch the doorway, and I catch a glimpse of another officer standing behind Smithy in the hallway of the house. Still, none of us in this van are any the wiser until we see the driver take a piece of paper from the second officer and make his way back to us.
As he climbs back in behind the wheel, the questions start.
‘What’s happening?’
‘What’s Smithy getting in the way of now?’
‘Is anybody going to tell us what the hell is going on?’
The driver starts the engine, and it seems like he is going to ignore every single query until he turns around and passes the piece of paper to the female officer sitting behind him.
‘A lad’s gone missing. Seventeen. Didn’t come back from a party on Saturday night. Gaffer wants us to go to his college and ask around to see if anyone knows anything.’
Now I know why I felt sick when we pulled up outside this house. My intuition sensed that this was something to do with what happened over the weekend, and now it has just been proven. This is Rupert’s home. His parents must be in there now, worried and wondering what has happened to their son. They’ll hope that the police can find him today, while he hasn’t been missing long. But I know how that hope is going to be extinguished very soon, and I force myself to look away from the house quickly in case I catch a glimpse of the anxious mother or father sitting inside.
The piece of paper continues to be passed around, and it’s getting closer to me now in the middle row.
‘Which college?’ someone asks the driver as he puts us into motion, and we pull away from the house.
‘Higher Green,’ comes the reply as the officer beside me looks at the paper before handing it to me.
I don’t want to do it, but I have no choice. Looking down, I see Rupert’s face staring back at me.
‘Isn’t that where your daughter goes?’ asks Becky, the colleague sitting behind me as she gives me a nudge on the shoulder.
‘Yeah, it is,’ I reply, though I only glance back briefly in the hope that doing so will mean she doesn’t ask me any more questions. But no such luck.
‘Do you think she knows him?’
I turn around and look at Becky, trying to figure out what to say. In the end, I play dumb and shrug my shoulders.
‘I’ve no idea,’ I reply. Then I pass the piece of paper on quickly, so I no longer have to be reminded of that face. But that doesn’t do much for my racing heart as I sit here wedged in amongst my fellow officers who are all studying that same photo as we make our way towards the sixth form college up the road.
I’m struggling to stay calm, and I know I won’t be the only one.
Chloe will feel the same way when she sees us arriving at her college.
16
CHLOE
It’s been a tough morning at college. That’s because I have already overheard a few people mentioning Rupert’s name in the common room. I should have followed Mum’s advice and gone outside during breaks, but the weather looked grim, so I decided against it. Unfortunately, that meant I was around to hear all the gossiping and rumours that have started surrounding the teenager who hasn’t turned up here today.
‘He’s obviously still hungover and pulled a sickie. I wish I’d done the same,’ said Lloyd, a guy I have never spoken to before but recognise as one of Rupert’s friends from the football team.
‘But he didn’t go home,’ replied Ed, another one of the missing man’s acquaintances. ‘Apparently, his mum and dad have called the police.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I saw something on Facebook.’
‘Maybe he just got lucky.’
That last comment came from another boy, one I didn’t recognise at all.
‘He might have gone back to someone’s house. Probably still in their bed now.’
‘He might have done, you know. Jammy git.’
That was Lloyd again, but that was all I heard before the three guys walked away across the common room, meaning I could no longer hear what they were saying about Rupert.
‘I don’t remember seeing him at the park,’ Zara had said a few minutes later when she had come to join me on one of the large blue sofas that
