Guilty

The morning traffic was beginning to build as Karl drove through Glenmoore. Once past the village and on to the coast road, it eased. It was still too early for the dog walkers but a few joggers were already in action. Karl parked his car on North Beach Road and walked down the wooden steps to the beach. Coral clouds stippled the sky and a cormorant, surfacing from the sea, flapped its wings as it landed on a rock. It was going to be a hot day.

Apart from a shoal of dead jellyfish glistening on the sand, the beach was deserted and unmarked by any indentations from horses’ hooves. He walked towards a formation of rock that curved naturally into a sheltered cove. Nicknamed Ben’s Shack as a tribute to the teenager who had organised the first beach party there, this was where the young people from Glenmoore gathered in the summer. The Shack parties had been a rite of passage for him and Justin during their late teens: bonfires blazing, guitars playing, bottles clinking, weed and sex; a potent mix. Justin had met his wife, Jenna, who was also a Glenmoore local, at one such party. They often reminisced with Karl about those nights, laughing ruefully and vowing to lock their children in towers rather than allow them anywhere near Ben’s Shack.

Karl entered the cove, expecting to find dead embers and bent beer cans. The sand was clean. Clearly no beach parties had taken place there for a while. The uneasiness he had felt since his brother’s phone call lessened as he walked back to his car.

Justin rang. Constance was not at the riding-school and he was driving to Glenmoore Park in the hope that she might have decided to run with the Junior Harriers.

Nicole was stretched on the sofa when Karl returned home and Sasha, dressed in jeans and a Dora T-shirt, was snuggled against her as she watched her DVD.

‘No luck,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I took so long.’

‘Do you think we’ve any reason to worry?’ Nicole hugged Sasha closer.

‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ he replied. ‘I’ll call over to Jenna and see what’s happening.’

‘I can drive the kids to summer camp.’

‘No, you won’t,’ he said. ‘It’s way past your bedtime. I’ll pick up Matthew and Lara, and come back for Sasha.’

Justin’s car was still missing from the driveway. Karl unlocked the front door and entered the kitchen, where Jenna was speaking on Constance’s phone.

‘She wouldn’t leave the house in the morning without telling us where she was going,’ she said to Karl when the phone call ended. ‘She loves helping out with summer camp and she should be getting ready to leave right now. I’m worried something’s happened to her.’

‘Nothing’s happened to her,’ Karl reassured her. ‘She’s sulking somewhere, probably regretting running away but afraid to come home in case she’s in even more trouble.’

Jenna stared at the mobile screen, as if she expected a message to flash into view and solve the mystery of her daughter’s whereabouts. ‘I’m making my way through the names in her address book. I’d no idea she knew so many people.’

The kitchen door opened and Lara, her younger daughter, flounced into the room in her nightdress.

‘Where’s Constance?’ she asked.

‘She’s just gone out for a little while,’ said Jenna.

‘But she didn’t give me a cuddle.’

‘Here’s one now.’ Jenna scooped her up in her arms and hugged her. ‘Constance will give you all the cuddles you want when she comes back.’ She buried her face in the little girl’s hair, her voice muffled. ‘It’s time to get dressed for summer camp.’ She handed the phone to Karl. ‘Will you ring a few of those numbers while I’m upstairs? Someone has to know something.’

‘Will do.’ Karl took the phone and hit the number Jenna pointed out to him. It continued ringing and he was about to cancel the call when a youth answered.

‘Yo, bitch. What’s up?’ The voice was young and brash.

‘Is that Lucas O’Malley?’ Karl asked.

The youth’s sharp intake of breath was followed by a pause. When he spoke again his tone was more muted. ‘Who’s that?’

‘I’m Constance Lawson’s uncle. Is my niece with you?’

‘No. Why do you want to know? Is something wrong?’

‘Hopefully, nothing’s wrong. She’s gone off without her phone and her parents are trying to contact her.’

‘So, why ring me? I hardly know her.’

‘Are you in the habit of calling strangers “bitch”?’

‘It’s a term, man. It don’t mean nothing.’

‘If you see her tell her to ring her parents immediately.’

Karl was ending his fourth call, and was no nearer to finding out anything about Constance’s whereabouts, when Matthew, his nephew, rushed into the kitchen in his tracksuit and trainers.

‘Has Constance really run away?’ he asked as he shook cereal into a bowl.

‘Of course not,’ Karl replied. ‘She’s probably with her friends.’

‘She’s always with her friends.’ He spooned Rice Krispies into his mouth and swallowed noisily. ‘She hates living with us. That’s what she said last night. Girls are so stupid. They’re always crying about something.’

Karl left his nephew musing over the shortcomings of big sisters and escaped into the living-room to ring the next number. He kept looking out the window, convinced Constance was going to rush through the gate, sheepish, apologetic, her ponytail swinging, horrified that her friends were being contacted.

When Jenna came downstairs with Lara, he ushered the little girl and Matthew into the car, and stopped at his house to collect Sasha.

Cars were arriving and leaving the campus in Glenmoore College, which served as a summer camp during the holidays. Matthew had joined the football camp and Karl dropped the girls into the arts and crafts room. He made his way to the field behind the school where the track and field camp was located, hoping to see Constance among the volunteers. No sign of her anywhere and Justin, obviously sharing the same hope, was already speaking to the coach. It was clear from the slope of his shoulders that Constance had not turned up. Nor had she been seen at the train station, the shopping centre or the cafes in the village, he told Karl as they walked back to their cars.

Jenna had finished checking the names on Constance’s phone when they returned to the house.

‘I know it’s too early to call the police.’ Justin slumped into a chair and rubbed his chin. ‘But I’m afraid to let it go on any longer.’

‘Getting the police involved at this stage seems like a drastic step,’ said Karl. ‘She’s only been gone a short while.’

‘This is drastic,’ Jenna replied. ‘It’s ten o’clock and we’ve no idea how long she’s been missing.’

‘Did her friends mention anything about a dare?’ Karl asked.

‘A dare?’ Justin sat up straighter. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Constance did something stupid a few weeks ago.’ He hesitated, aware that they were watching him intently. ‘She begged me not to tell you. She was afraid of how you’d react—’

‘Cut the crap and tell us what happened,’ Justin snapped.

The brightness had gone from the morning. Karl was conscious of this dulling as he began to speak, a thumbprint smudging his future, but he was unaware that the familiar whorls and lines of his life would never be the same again.





Chapter Two



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