‘I thought you were Maggie,’ he said. ‘She’s not back yet. I called Anne and a couple of others. No one’s seen her.’

Sandra stared at him. For a moment there was worry in her eyes, but then she smiled. Unlike him, Sandra assumed that things were generally OK. ‘She’s a fifteen-year-old girl,’ she said. ‘She’s probably with a different friend. Or at the cinema.’

‘She should have told us.’

‘Yes, she should. But she didn’t. She’s not a little girl any more, Martin.’

‘I know.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I still worry though.’

‘I know you do. It’s one of your more attractive traits.’

‘It might be time to get her a phone,’ he said. ‘Then this won’t happen again.’

‘That’s probably why she’s stayed out,’ Sandra replied. ‘So she finally gets the white whale, the elusive mobile phone.’

‘Not fair!’ The call came from the top of the stairs. ‘If she gets a phone, I want one!’

‘You’re fourteen,’ Martin replied. ‘Not a chance. And wash your hands before dinner. It’s nearly ready.’

3

He didn’t eat dinner; he couldn’t. His stomach was tight and clenched and the spaghetti bolognese on his plate looked totally unappetizing.

James nodded at his plate. ‘Can I have that?’

Evidently his son was not feeling the same way. Martin passed it over and stood up. He looked at the clock over the sideboard. It was nearly seven p.m. Maggie had never stayed out this late without letting them know; she always told them when she was going to be out, and where she was going to be.

Not this time. Maybe it had slipped her mind, but he didn’t think so. She was somewhere, and someone knew where that was.

He went to the phone in the hall and called Kevin.

‘Have you seen her?’ he asked, when Kevin picked up.

‘No. I was waiting for her to call. About coming over.’

‘Any ideas where she might be?’

‘No,’ he said. He sounded as worried as Martin, although Martin suspected it was for different reasons. Kevin was no doubt worried she was with another boy.

He hung up and called Anne again. It sounded like she was in the pub.

‘Any sign of Maggie?’ he said.

‘No.’ Anne said something to someone and the noise of the pub died down. ‘Sorry about that – I’ve come outside,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t hear in there. Is everything OK, Uncle Martin?’

‘Maggie still hasn’t turned up.’

‘God,’ Anne said. ‘I hope she’s OK. I’ll ask around, shall I?’

‘Please. Call if you hear anything.’

He tried more of her friends. Everyone he could think of. Chrissie – in Nottingham, but still possibly in possession of some useful information – Jeffrey, Oscar, Fern, Meg, Jessie. They always knew what the rest of them were up to.

Except now. None of them knew anything.