Love and Other Drama-Ramas! (15 page)

I shrug. “Didn’t think of that, miss.”

“Clearly. I don’t know what to do with the pair of you. I have to give you some sort of punishment, I suppose . . .” She trails off, chewing on her lip. Discipline isn’t Loopy’s strong point.

“Detention, miss?” I say glumly.

She shakes herself. “Gosh, no, no. Complete waste of everyone’s time and energy.” She looks carefully at Bailey. His head is still low and his face pale. “I’ll let you off this time. I’ll send Mr. Joey up to deal with your lock, Amy, and the rather alarming dents in that door. Luckily for you, he’s an expert panel beater. But no more shenanigans, Mr. Otis, understand? Are you trying to get yourself expelled?”

“Maybe,” he murmurs. He drops the stick on the floor with a clatter, then turns on his heels and walks away.

Loopy’s eyes follow him down the corridor. She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “That poor boy.” To me, she says, “You all right, Amy? Your eyes look rather red.”

“She has conjunctivitis, miss,” Mills says, covering for me.

Loopy gives a doubtful “hmm,” then says, “Right, run along to class now, all of you.”

As soon as Loopy has gone, Mills and Seth both look at me. My eyes are still teary. I was only trying to help Bailey, but instead I’ve made things a hundred times worse. Again.

“What’s going on, Amy?” Mills asks gently. “What happened on Saturday? Why did Bailey freak out like that?”

It’s time to tell Mills and Seth the truth.

“We need to talk.” I usher them behind the lockers, away from prying eyes. We all sit down and lean our backs against the wall.

“It’s complicated,” I begin. “You know Mum’s been working on Finn Hunter’s memoir? I read her notes and, well, to cut a long story short: Bailey is Finn’s son. Finn ran off to London when Bailey’s mum was pregnant. It gets worse, though. When he was only three, Bailey’s mum ran off too.” I stop and look from Mills to Seth and then back at Mills. They’re staring at me in complete and utter shock. I had been planning to tell them the whole story — about Bailey being Baby X and everything. But now the moment is here, I can’t do it. To Mills, to Seth, or to Bailey.

I know hearing about it would devastate Mills; she has such a sheltered view of the world, and I don’t want to be the one to shatter her illusions. And with Polly in and out of the hospital, Seth has enough to worry about. Clover and Mum are different — they’re strong, like me, and they’re not as close to Bailey. Besides, would Bailey really want so many people knowing about his past? It must be painful enough as it is.

No, for the moment, Bailey’s past is a secret I’ll have to carry without Mills’s and Seth’s help.

“Poor Bailey. What happened to him then, Amy?” Mills looks completely stricken. I was right not to tell her all the details.

“He had to go and live with his grandpa. Mac. The guy you thought was his dad, Seth.” I tell them about Bailey’s unanswered letters to Finn.

“Oh, Amy,” Mills whispers. She’s so overcome, she can’t say anything else. Tears start running down her cheeks, and she wipes them away with her fingers.

“I know.” I pat her shoulder.

“Christ,” Seth says. “Imagine your own father rejecting you not once but twice. And your mum too.”

“There’s more . . .” I say, even though there’s a lump the size of an orange in my throat — and I tell them everything that happened on Killiney Beach. “It was a disaster,” I finish. “I’ve made such a mess of things.”

Seth and Mills exchange a loaded look. Seth gives her a tiny frown and puts his arm around my shoulder.

“You were only trying to help, Amy,” he says kindly. “Don’t blame yourself. Hey, it might have worked.”

“But what now?” Mills says. “Bailey must hurt so much, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“I know,” I say. “And that’s the worst thing of all. None of us can help him. He’s pushed everyone who cares about him away, even Mac. I don’t know what’s going to happen to him.”

“Oh, Amy, it’s horrible.” Mills swipes at her flooded eyes with the edge of her sleeve. “I’m sorry — it’s just so sad.”

“Come here,” Seth says, putting one arm around me and the other around Mills. “We all need to stick together today.”

The following Sunday the home phone rings. Dave’s out walking the babies and Mum’s at the supermarket, so I roll off the sofa, walk into the hall, and pick up the handset. “Yello? Green and Wildgust residence. How may I help you?”

“Amy, it’s Mac. You haven’t seen Bailey today, by any chance, have you? He snuck out early this morning. There’s still no sign of him, and he’s not answering his mobile. He didn’t say one word to me yesterday — he was really moody. I’m starting to get seriously worried.”

My stomach clenches like a fist. Mac sounds completely freaked out.

“I haven’t seen him since school on Friday, I’m afraid,” I say. “He’s not really talking to any of us at the moment, least of all me. If he makes contact, though, I’ll let you know immediately.”

“Thanks, Amy. I hope he hasn’t done anything stupid. I’ve been driving around for hours. I’ve tried Bray Head, the seafront, the arcades — there’s no sign of him anywhere. Can you think of anywhere else I should look?”

“Not really. Do you think it has something to do with what happened on the beach? Seeing Finn?”

There’s a long pause. “I don’t know, lass. He was acting strange even before that, so don’t fret too much.”

I put down the phone, the words “I hope he hasn’t done anything stupid” ringing in my ears. I chew on my lip. This isn’t good — even though Mac said not to blame myself, it’s hard not to.

I ring Seth. “Bailey’s missing again,” I say as soon as he picks up. “Mac just rang. He hasn’t seen him since early this morning. I don’t suppose he’s been in touch with you?”

“Nope.”

I sigh. “This is all my fault. What if he’s run away? To London or something, like Finn did.”

“He wouldn’t do something like that, would he? Not without telling anyone . . . OK, maybe he would. What about those kids he teaches at the beach, though? He wouldn’t just leave without telling them, surely.”

“The
beach
!” I cry. “He’s on Killiney Beach. I just know it. It’s his safe place: the only place he’s happy. It’s really windy today too. I bet he’s gone surfing. Maybe he’s in trouble. What if he got swept out to sea on a wave or something?”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Amy. He knows what he’s doing. But we’d better go and check anyway. I’ll meet you at the Martello Tower in twenty minutes, yeah?”

“See you there. I’ll grab Mills on the way.”

As soon as I’ve hung up, I dash out the back door to grab my bike from the shed. One of the tires is completely flat. “
Póg, póg,
and triple
póg,
” I mutter, kicking the saggy wheel. I throw it onto the grass and run over to Mills’s house instead. No one is answering the bell, so I slap the door with the flat of my hand. “Come on, come on!”

“Hold your horses!” Mills says as she swings the door open. She stares at me. “Amy, what’s wrong?”

“Is your mum in?” I ask her frantically. “Can she give us a lift to Killiney Beach?”

“No, the parentals have gone to buy a cherry tree in some special garden center in Wicklow. What’s on at Killiney Beach?”

“Bailey’s missing and I think he’s on the beach and my bike’s busted and we need to get there fast. Any ideas?”

“We could get the train . . .”

I shake my head. “There are
siúcra
all trains on a Sunday. No, there has to be another—”

I stop mid-sentence, and Mills and I simultaneously say, “Clover!”

Clover isn’t answering her mobile, so I ring the home phone.

“Hello, Autumn House. How can I help you?” It’s Gramps.

“Gramps, it’s Amy. Is Clover there?”

“No, she’s out with Brains. Howth Head, I think they said. Romantic walk.”

Darn. Howth’s miles away. “Gramps, I need a favor. Can you pick me up from Mills’s house, like right now, and take us to Killiney Beach? It’s urgent.”

He laughs. “Late for a hot date, Amy Damey, that it?”

“Something like that. Please, Gramps?” I beg.

“Sounds vital. Normally I’d love to help you out, but the car’s in the garage until Tuesday.”

“AAAUUUGGGHHH!”

“You OK, Amy?”

“Not really, but don’t worry — I’ll think of something.”

I click off my phone and turn to Mills. “Do you have any money?”

“Not much — just some change.”

“And I have about ten euro. Let’s hope it’s enough. We’re going to have to get a taxi. Nothing else to do . . .”

We dash back to my house — and bump into Mum, who is walking up the path, her arms laden down with shopping bags. “Where are you pair off to in such a hurry?” she asks.

“Bailey’s gone missing, Mum,” I explain quickly. “We think he’s on Killiney Beach.”

Mum studies my face. “How long has he been gone?”

“Since early this morning. Mac’s been looking for him for hours. He said Bailey was acting weird all day yesterday too.”

“Mac? You’ve been talking to Bailey’s grandpa?”

“Can I fill you in later, Mum? Right now, we need to concentrate on finding Bailey.”

“I understand. Hop in,” she says, nodding at the car. “I’ll drive you.” After dumping the shopping bags in the trunk, she jumps into the driver’s seat. I climb into the passenger seat, and Mills sits in the back, wedged between the two car seats.

“Won’t the ice cream melt?” I ask.

“Some things are more important,” Mum says, pressing her foot on the accelerator and reversing down the path at full speed. “Besides, it’ll refreeze. Alex and Evie have iron stomachs.”

“Now,” she says as she pulls onto Glenageary Road. “It’s time to come clean about Mac, Amy.”

“I went over last weekend,” I begin. “To tell him about the whole Finn and Bailey business. And to apologize for getting involved.”

“And?”

“He was pretty annoyed at first, but then he softened up. He’s not a bit impressed with Finn, though. Called him selfish.”

“I can imagine. Running off on his only daughter like that. But Finn
has
changed.”

The car in front of us is doing about twenty miles an hour. “Get a move on,” Mum mutters, gripping the steering wheel. Then suddenly she rams her foot down and overtakes it.

“Way to go, Mum.” I laugh.

Mum’s always complaining about Clover’s rally-car driving tendencies, but I can see where Clover gets them from now. Speed greed must run in the Wildgust family.

I catch Mills’s eye in the rearview mirror. She looks a little shaken by Mum’s driving. Luckily we’re nearly at the beach now.

“Which end of the beach?” Mum asks as we roar down the hill.

“The Bray end. We’re meeting Seth at the Martello Tower.”

“Roger that,” Mum says, and pulls to a screeching halt on the side of the road. “I’m coming with you.”

“We’ll be fine, Mum,” I protest — but Mills shrugs. “We might need her,” she says in a quiet voice.

I guess she’s right.

After Mum has locked the car — not that anyone would want to steal it — the three of us run toward the Martello Tower. Mum’s surprisingly fast; she’s leaving me and Mills in the dust. Must be all the practice she gets tearing after Alex and Evie. However, by the time we reach the tower, she’s doubled over with the effort, puffing and panting.

“No . . . sign of . . . Seth yet,” I say to Mills, my own breath a little raggedy.

“Now what?” she asks.

“We start looking for Bailey. Seth can catch up with us when he arrives.”

“Which way? Should we split up?”

I nod. “I’ll take the Bray end with Mum. You walk toward White Rock. Yell if you see anything — or if I’m out of earshot, ring me.”

“Got it.” And Mills starts walking down the beach, her head sweeping from side to side as she scans the beach and water carefully, looking for Bailey.

Mum and I head the other way. My mind is racing: What if we don’t find him? What if I’m wrong about the beach? Bailey could be halfway to France on the ferry by now. I wonder if Mac has checked for his passport.

“He’ll turn up, Amy,” Mum says gently, as though reading my mind. She strokes my cheek gently, and for once I don’t pull away. “You have to stop blaming yourself. For now, let’s just concentrate on scouring the beach, OK?”

We walk on in silence, and as Mum suggested, I focus on the beach. I spot a dark-haired boy near the water, and for a brief second my heart lifts. But when I run toward him, I realize he’s much smaller than Bailey and wearing a Manchester United T-shirt, which Bailey wouldn’t be seen dead in.

Dead
.

The word lingers in my head even as I try to shake it away. I look around for Mum, but she has peeled off to the right, searching the sand dunes, so I keep walking along the shoreline. The tide’s on its way out, leaving damp curves on the pebbles. Feeling more and more frustrated, I kick a stone into the sea.

“Amy!” someone calls behind me, and I spin around. Seth’s running toward me. “I thought you were going to wait for me at the tower,” he says.

“Sorry, I wanted to start looking for Bailey. Mills is trying the other end of the beach, and Mum’s checking out the dunes. But this is pointless. He could be anywhere. What if he never comes back, Seth? I should never have interfered. I’m so stupid.”