‘He’s not letting on about something, am I right?’ Mark said, when he’d waited long enough to know he would have to talk first. ‘Want to help me find a missing girl?’

The barman sniffed, but turned to face Mark. ‘It’s probably nothing…’

‘Could be something though.’

‘Listen, Barry is messed up. An alcoholic, just like his old fella. And his old fella before him. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love his kids.’

‘They always do,’ Mark said, leaning on the bar and eyeing the beer on draught. Wishing he could have a quick pint before going back out onto the street. ‘He’s not exactly willing to do anything to help though.’

‘He doesn’t know anything.’

‘What’s not being said here?’

The barman shifted on his stool. ‘We’ve heard some weird things about the girl for the past few weeks. Someone who knows the family told Barry about it last week.’

‘What kind of things?’ Mark said, trying to keep his voice level. He straightened up at the bar. ‘It could be important.’

‘Some guy came in last week and said he’d heard one of Barry’s girls had been seen in town stopping random people and asking weird questions. Like she was on drugs or something.’

‘Weird how?’

‘I don’t know, about their sex lives, stuff like that.’

‘What do you mean? Sex lives?’

‘Like, pretending to interview people, but getting very personal.’

Mark shook his head and made a mental note to ask Emily’s family about this. If some randomer in a pub knew about it, no doubt they would. He wanted to know why they hadn’t told him. ‘What did Barry say about it?’

‘Just laughed and said something about the mum. He’s always banging on about her. All women, I guess. You get that kind of thing a lot in here. Should have seen it during the Women’s World Cup on the big screen. Thought there was going to be a riot.’

Mark shook his head at the ridiculousness of that, but continued on regardless. Tried to get more out of the bloke, but didn’t get very far.

Tried to work out what he’d learned and whether this was just another wasted trip.

The words from that Facebook comment came back to him then. A game.

That’s how he felt. As if he was in a big game, that he was being played with. Batted around from side to side, with no real clue of how to stop it.

He straightened up and made a decision.

There was no way he was going to let that happen.

Twenty-Seven

Mark tried to talk to Barry again later at home, but the absentee father was having none of it. Mark gave up eventually, but only when the older man went silent for five minutes, ignoring his questions entirely.

Barry’s head was firmly in the sand now.