Finding Audrey (23 page)

‘Yes, we have to go now,’ says Frank, cutting across Izzy. ‘Thanks for the water.’

‘Go?’

The Lawtons look pole-axed.

‘But Izzy hasn’t finished reading.’

‘We haven’t had any discussion.’

‘We’ve only just begun the meeting!’

‘That’s right,’ says Frank cheerfully as we both get to our feet. ‘OK, Aud?’

‘You can’t leave before Izzy has even finished her piece!’ Mrs Lawton sounds quite shirty. ‘I’m sorry, what kind of behaviour is this?’

And then I finally find my voice. ‘You want to talk about
behaviour
?’ I say quietly.

It’s like a magic charm. Everyone else is silenced. Paralysed.

There’s an odd hush around the place – it feels like the whole of Starbucks might have picked up on our vibe, just for a second. Mr Lawton’s face has kind of crumpled. It’s as if reality has pushed its way through his soap bubble of denial, just for a second, and he’s been forced to see exactly who I am. I’m the one they did all those things to.

Yes, those things. The ones they did. And said. And wrote. Your daughter in her ponytail. That’s right.

I don’t look at Izzy. Why would I expend the energy that swivelling my eyeballs in her direction would require? Why would I expend even one microjoule of energy on Izzy?

And then we’re walking out, Frank and I, not looking back, not talking about it, not wasting a second more of our lives on that load of shitty, shitty
crap
.

And I should feel high now. Shouldn’t I? I mean, I think I won. Didn’t I?

Only now it’s all over I just feel kind of empty. Frank’s sole comment as we walked back was ‘What a bunch of weirdos.’ Then he told me he was heading back to school for tech club, and when I gave him a big hug and muttered, ‘Thanks, I don’t know how I can repay you,’ into his shoulder, he said, ‘OK, well, I get to choose
both
pizza toppings on Friday night. OK?’

And now it’s seven o’clock and I’m on my own. Mum and Dad are out at their salsa class. They have no idea. I mean, how weird is that? I’ve actually
met up with Izzy
and they don’t know.

I’ve texted Linus and told him about it. I’ve said I’m sorry I blew up at him. I’ve said he was right, I should never have gone and I miss him and I want to see him so, so much. I want to go back to how we were. I want him to give me another crazy challenge. I want to forget I ever went to see Izzy.

I mean, I think we were both right. I was right because I didn’t relapse and there aren’t any pieces to pick up. And Linus was right because I shouldn’t have given her the time of day in the first place. So. And when he texts back, I’ll ask him round and maybe we’ll get back to that
other
conversation we were having in the park.

That was two hours ago and he still hasn’t texted back. I’ve checked my phone signal, like, a million times and it’s fine. Anyway. Maybe he’s busy or whatever.

Except by ten o’clock he still hasn’t texted back. And he
always
texts back. Always within the hour. He finds a way. He’s texted me from lessons, from his family supper, wherever. He doesn’t not text. But right now he’s not texting.

It’s eleven. He’s not texting.

It’s midnight. No text.

And now it’s one o’clock, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t sleep. I can’t even lie down. I officially ‘went to bed’ three hours ago but I haven’t touched the covers. I’m pacing around my room, trying to calm my whirling thoughts, but they’re like a hurricane.

I’ve wrecked everything with Linus. He’s never texting. It’s over. He was right, I was selfish. I should never have gone to that stupid meeting. Why did I do it? Why? I always do stupid things. I’m such a stupid,
idiot
failure, and now I’ve spoiled the only good thing I had in my life, and he hates me and there’s nothing I can do about it. The whole thing’s over. And it’s all my fault, my stupid,
stupid
fault . . .

My thoughts are speeding up and my pace is speeding up too, and I’m pulling at my arms, pulling at the flesh of my forearms, trying to . . . I don’t know. I don’t understand it. I glance in the mirror and flinch at my own wild stare. I can feel a weird sparking all over my body, like I’m more alive than I should be, like my body is
overloaded
with life force. Can you have too much life stuffed into one body? Because that’s what this feels like. And everything’s too fast. My heart, my thoughts, my feet, my clawing arms . . .

Maybe I should take something. The thought hits me like a very sensible person talking in my ear. Yes. Of course. I have things I could take. I have lots of things.

I rootle around in my box full of magic tricks, dropping bottles and packets on the floor in my haste. OK, a Clonazepam. Maybe two. Maybe three. I swallow them, and wait for everything to calm down. But my mind is still screaming, round and round like a motor race, and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand myself. I
have
to escape . . .

When suddenly another brilliant idea hits me. I’ll go for a walk. I’ll burn off all this energy. The fresh air will do me a power of good. And I’ll come back and sleep it off and, like they say, things will be better in the morning.

MY SERENE AND LOVING FAMILY – FILM TRANSCRIPT

INT. 5 ROSEWOOD CLOSE. DAY

The camera wobbles as someone stabilizes it on a high surface. As this person backs away we see it is Frank, in the sitting room. He stares into the camera with deeply worried eyes.

FRANK

Is this working? OK. Hello. I’m Frank Turner and this is my video diary. My sister Audrey is missing. It’s a nightmare. We woke up this morning and there she wasn’t. Mum and Dad are just . . . (He swallows.) We’ve looked everywhere, and we’ve phoned everyone. Mum and Dad called the police, like,
that instant
. And the police are great, they’re really calm. But . . .

He shuts his eyes briefly.

FRANK

I still don’t believe this is happening.

He’s silent a while, his eyes hollow.

FRANK

They blame me. Which is . . .

He exhales miserably.

FRANK

Anyway. We’re going out again in a minute, to look again. I dunno where – I mean, we’ve looked everywhere. All the little side alleys, maybe? But Mum said I should have some food first. Like anyone wants to eat.

He gives another heavy sigh.

FRANK

Anyway. I told them what we did yesterday. I had to. Audrey, if you’re watching this, I
had
to.

Long pause.

FRANK

Audrey, please come home and be watching this.

The doorbell rings and he jumps a mile.

FRANK

Wait a sec.

He runs out of the room. A few seconds elapse, then he returns, slack-shouldered, accompanied by Linus.

FRANK

(into camera)

It wasn’t her. It was Linus.

LINUS

(to Frank)

Sorry.

He looks awkwardly into the camera.

LINUS

Sorry.

Mum comes striding into the room, her face drawn, her eyes burning with purpose, her manner hyper.

MUM

Frank, we’re going through her things, and I need to know—

She sees Linus and stops dead, full of hostility.

MUM

You
. What are you doing here?

Linus is shocked by her aggression.

LINUS

Me? I just – Frank told me about Audrey, so—

MUM

Do you know where she is?

LINUS

No! Of course not! I would have said!

He gulps nervously at Mum’s manner, but carries on.

Frank said you wanted to know who she’d been texting? Well, she sent me this text yesterday, but it only came through just now. I had no idea she’d texted.

He holds out his phone.

LINUS

I mean, I don’t know if it helps.

Mum scans the phone, getting agitated as she does so.

MUM

(to Linus)

So you knew about this meeting with the Lawtons too. Was it your idea?

LINUS

No!

MUM

But you’ve been telling her to ‘do crazy challenges’, apparently.

She taps the phone.

MUM

She says she wants you to give her another ‘crazy challenge’.

LINUS

(alarmed)

Not that kind of crazy challenge. Just talking to people in Starbucks and stuff.

Mum doesn’t seem to hear him.

MUM

Was this – leaving home in the middle of the night – was this one of your ‘crazy challenges’, Linus?

LINUS

No! How could you even—?

He appeals to Frank.

LINUS

Would I do that?

FRANK

Mum, you’re out of line.

Mum rounds on Linus.

MUM

All I know is, she was on an even keel till she met you. And now she’s missing.

LINUS

That is so unfair.

He’s having trouble holding it together.

So
unfair. I have to go. Let me know if I can help.

As Linus leaves, Frank turns furiously on Mum.

FRANK

How could you blame Linus? Of all people. This house is so fucked up.

Mum erupts in a flood of sudden anguish.

MUM

She’s missing, Frank! Don’t you understand, she’s
missing
. I have to try everything, I have to consider everything, every possibility—