Cora looked up at Della, her small face scared. She pointed at the foundations.

‘There. It wasn’t a very good place to hide but we could hear them coming so we just jumped in and ducked down.’

Mary scanned the expanse of soil and stone.

‘She can’t have gone far then, it’s only been a few minutes.’ She cupped her mouth. ‘Lily! Lily!’

Cora looked uncomfortable.

‘Cora, there’s something else, isn’t there?’ Della asked.

A tear slid down Cora’s cheek.

‘I needed to get a drink of water.’

‘That’s OK,’ Della said. ‘When was that?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t have a watch. But I was really thirsty.’ Her cheeks flamed.

‘So, where did you go?’ Della asked.

‘I was going to go to my house, but I met Aoife on the way and she said we could go to her house cos it’s nearer.’

Aoife spoke up.

‘Yeah, she came to my house, my mum doesn’t mind me bringing people home. Then she left my house and I stayed at home for a bit longer to change into shorts.’ Informative. Authoritative, or as authoritative as a thirteen-year-old can be.

‘OK,’ Della said, beckoning Aoife forward. ‘So, do you know what time it was?’

Aoife looked down at a blue plastic strap on her wrist, then off to the left, and suddenly Mary knew she was going to give an answer whether she knew what time it had been or not.

‘Oh, it was … ten. Ten o’clock.’

Della shook her head. ‘No, pet, we weren’t even out here yet at ten. Maybe your watch is wrong. Would you have a feeling about how long it was?’

Aoife put her head to one side in a display of serious thinking and Mary wanted to shake her.

‘Half an hour?’ Aoife said eventually, her finger on her lower lip. ‘Or an hour?’

Mary put her face in her hands. ‘Oh God.’

Della glanced at her, still speaking to the girls.

‘Now, I don’t think it was an hour. Mary and I saw Cora and Lily maybe forty-five minutes ago. But we need to assume she could have gone a bit further than we realized. I think maybe we’ll spread out and search, but girls, if you think of anything, come find me or another grown-up immediately, OK?’

Aoife nodded solemnly, Cora tearfully.

Mary was shaking her head, frozen to the small patch of stony soil on which she stood. Della stepped forward and rubbed her arm.

‘She’s here, of course she’s here, we’ll find her. Let’s split up and cover the whole site.’

And they did – Della and her twins, Cynthia and a sobbing Cora, Aoife and Ellen, Ruth Cavanagh with her downturned, sour mouth, and Mary, trying to hold it together. Certain – all of them certain – that they would find her. Until they didn’t.

43

July 1985

ONE AND A HALF hours missing. People everywhere. Combing. Roaming like ants. Police. Neighbours. Strangers. Blurred faces, eyes not meeting hers. The children – the other children, the not-missing children – so many gone home now, eating lunch and watching TV. Is it a bit dangerous to have the smaller ones here? one of the women had asked, and maybe it was, but Mary wanted to scream all the same: What about Lily? How could you leave her?