Charlie looked at his wife, then back towards his daughter. ‘So if anyone you don’t recognise tries to speak to you, if they tell you they are a friend of Mummy or Daddy, and you don’t know who they are, then you don’t talk to them, okay?’
Daisy nodded again.
‘You don’t talk to them. You don’t take anything from them. You don’t go anywhere with them. Not even if they tell you it’s okay. Do you understand, darling?’ Charlie whispered. Daisy’s head bobbed up and down slowly. ‘I need you to tell me you understand what I’m saying.’
‘Yes. I understand, Daddy,’ Daisy breathed.
‘Good girl. Now come here.’ Charlie opened up his arms for a hug. Daisy stood up, unsure at first, but crossed the room for a cuddle. He enveloped her, kissing her on the top of her head, then ruffled her hair with his left hand.
‘Okay. That’s it. Off you go and play.’
Daisy didn’t need telling twice and ran back up the stairs.
‘Do you think this has something to do with that note?’ Charlie asked when he was sure Daisy couldn’t hear them.
Beth shook her head.
‘I wouldn’t have thought so.’
‘I don’t understand who it could have been,’ Charlie said.
‘No. I don’t either. Can we drop this please? We’re going around in circles now and not achieving anything, apart from giving me a headache. We’ll need to keep a closer eye on her from now on.’
Charlie frowned, but something about Beth’s tone told him to leave it there. He stood up, taking his jacket to the hall cupboard. He heard the front door opening and turned to see Beth slipping through it with Cooper at her heels.
‘Where are you going, Beth?’ he shouted after her.
‘Taking the dog for a walk.’
The door slammed shut behind her. Gravel crunched as she walked down the driveway, away from the house.
4 July 1985, Perry Barr, Birmingham, England.
Kitty Briscoe skulked along the path. It hadn’t been dark for long, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be in trouble when she got home. She smoothed her hands down the front of her yellow dress, trying to rub some deep crimson marks away, but it was no use. The stains weren’t going anywhere.
Kieran gave her a sideways glance. She looked in his direction, and his eyes darted from her.
‘What?’ she shouted.
Kieran continued walking along the dusty path but didn’t reply.
‘What, Kieran? Stop watching me like that!’
Kieran turned to her, his face serious, eyes dark.
‘We’re agreed, right? We won’t say anything to anyone. Not a word.’
‘Agreed,’ Kitty replied. She walked on, but Kieran grabbed her wrist.
‘Ouch! Let go, you’re hurting me!’ she cried.
The older boy held her in a vice-like grip. Her flesh went pale beneath his fingers.
‘Kitty. This is important. We could get in a lot of trouble. We need to make sure we say the same thing.’
Kieran was eleven, and Kitty realised that he knew things. Things that she didn’t understand yet.
‘We agreed, okay. I won’t tell.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
They resumed their journey, Kieran a few paces in front. Now and then he would peek over his shoulder. Each time he looked, Kitty stared straight back at him. Her expression blank.
They walked for a few minutes in silence. The sound of their small feet dragging through the dry soil and gravel, the only noise. Kitty couldn’t bear it.
She held the skirt of her dress in her tiny hands, twisting the lacy hem between them. The stains appeared almost black in the moonlight.
Her eyes flicked to the blood on Kieran’s bare arms, and she shivered.
She eventually spoke, more to break the silence than for any other reason.
‘Kieran?’ she whispered.
‘What?’ Kieran didn’t turn around. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts and continued along the path.
‘It’s not very far. Billy will find his way home, won’t he?’
Kieran couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question. It was one of the small social nuances that he sometimes struggled with.
‘Course he will. Like you said. It ain’t that far, is it.’
Kitty skipped a few steps to catch up with Kieran. She took his hand in her own. Kieran looked down at her and smiled.
‘Everything will be okay,’ Kitty said in a matter-of-fact way that made her sound much older than her seven years.
5
Taking a mug from the cupboard, Charlie spooned two heaps of instant coffee into the bottom. Flicking the switch on the kettle, he heard a cough behind him, turning to find Peter skulking in the doorway.
‘I’m sorry about Daisy, Dad. Honestly, I only took my eyes off of her for like a minute or two, she literally disappeared.’
Charlie rolled his eyes at Peter’s use of the word. He once told his parents he was literally boiling. Charlie had replied that he hoped not, getting a laugh from Beth. It had been lost on their son.
‘She was right next to me,’ Peter continued. ‘These girls from school came over to say hi and I only took my eyes off her briefly, but I thought she was standing beside me.’
The kettle clicked to a boil, and Charlie poured his drink, sliding onto one of the bar stools at the island unit.
‘Pete, it’s fine. It’s not your fault, mate. We don’t blame you at all. But remember, when you’re responsible for a child, you can’t take your eyes off them for a second. A guy I work with took his toddler to the park, glanced down at his phone quickly to read a text message from his Mrs. When he looked back up, the kid had fallen in the duck pond. Almost drowned. He’s never really got over it.’
Charlie held a mug up to his son, offering him a drink.
