Two Little Girls by Laura Jarratt

Author:Laura Jarratt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2022-03-25T00:00:00+00:00

42

By dinnertime there are still no sightings of her, and I’m growing beyond desperate as the light starts to fade from the sky again. “Dan, I can’t stand it if she’s missing another night.”

“Keep texting her,” he urges. “She might turn her phone on soon.”

We go on and on, watching and waiting. I know now how those poor, desperate mothers on TV appeals for missing children feel. And I keep thinking about a silent, shadowy figure who could be looking right at her now, because although Booth is following the angle that she’s run away, I still can’t entirely dispel my fear that it’s more than that.

Dan’s been out driving around again, looking in other places in case she’s hiding herself away. I know he went walking in the woods, and I know it was because he, like me, was afraid she’d gone off and hurt herself. He hid the walking boots when he went out to the car, but I was watching from the window. I saw him despite that. He’s out there for hours, looking for her. And when he returns, his face is closed down and he can’t talk to me. He sits facing away from me, staring into space.

I am curled on the sofa with the blanket around my shoulders because I can’t get warm when the text tone on my phone sounds.

“Oh God, it’s her, Dan, it’s her!” I shout, and Dan runs over.

“What is it? What’s she said?”

“She’s in the park, by the duck pond.”

“Tell her to wait—we’ll be there in a minute!” He dashes to get his coat, and I run out with him, the blanket still around me.

We are in the car in a flash, and he accelerates so fast that the tires screech against the tarmac. We shoot through the streets to the park and leave the car on the road.

Dan runs ahead of me down to the pond, but I am only a length behind him. My lungs are bursting as I push myself harder to get to her.

I see her first. She’s on a bench to the side of the pond with a woman wearing a bobble hat sitting beside her.

“Portia!”

She stands up uncertainly and comes toward us. I run over, with Dan following, and I throw my arms around her. “Oh, Portia, I was so worried.”

Dan arrives and fusses around both of us. Portia is sobbing and mumbling, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” over and over.

It’s ridiculous—I have been so afraid, and now the elation of finding her takes me over completely. I want to cry with relief. I want to check she still has all ten fingers and toes, just as you want to with a baby. I want to hold on to her and never let go. Portia stays snuggled in my arms, her face buried in my neck, and she is shaking with cold and suppressed emotion. I hug her tighter.

When I eventually remember the woman on the bench and look up, she’s already turning away to go.

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