Authors: Emily Pattullo
When Ted awoke he felt terrible. His eyes
were heavy and puffy and his head was pounding as if he’d had a really heavy
night. He rolled off the sofa and looked at his mobile to see the time, it said
he had eleven missed calls, all of which appeared to be from Martha. Ted felt a
pang of guilt, he knew he’d been harsh with her, and realised she’d probably
thought she was delivering the best news he’d ever heard.
It was late in the morning and there didn’t
appear to be anyone else in the house as Ted’s tired and dishevelled body
wandered into the kitchen. In true Mrs M style there was a plate of food on the
table with an arrow next to it that pointed towards the microwave. Ted smiled
as he heated the food, grateful that everyone else in his life was so amazing;
his family, his friends, he was so lucky. He realised that with friends and
family like he had it would have been easy to slip through life without
witnessing anything as nasty as what was happening to his sister, if it hadn’t
happened to her. How easy it would be to be blinkered to all such horror as
long as it always happened to someone else, and you never watched the news.
He looked out of the window as he waited
for his food to heat up. There was no way to tell there was anything bad
happening in the world at all: all he could see was someone parking their car;
two people walking in through their front door; and a passing van with the
driver on his mobile. Ted knew there was a possibility that the van driver
might be distracted by whoever he was talking to, mount the curb and hit a
pedestrian; that there may be burglars waiting inside that house and they may
be armed; and that the guy parking his car may have just murdered someone and
have the body stashed in the trunk. But as long as it wasn’t happening to him
or anyone he cared about it was as easy to ignore as turning away from the
window, taking his food out of the microwave and eating it. Which he did.
Just as he was finishing, his phone rang
again. Ted looked at the screen; it was Martha. He took a deep breath,
“Hello?”
“Hi Ted, it’s Martha, don’t hang up, I’m
sorry, just give me a chance to explain,” she rushed.
Ted wanted to be angry with her but the
sound of her voice so desperate melted his anger and he couldn’t help smiling.
“I’m not going to hang up,” he said
quietly.
“Oh god, Ted, I’m really sorry. I’m such an
idiot. I should have checked that it was your dad before telling you. I just
got so excited and wanted to tell you as soon as I heard. Turns out it was
someone pretending to be your dad, but I guess you already know that. But at
least the police have a description of who has her, so that’s promising.”
“What does he look like?” Ted asked,
cringing as he waited for her to reply.
Martha seemed to pause on the other end and
Ted prepared for the worst. Although, thinking about it, was there any
description she could give him that would reassure him and make it all ok? He
thought not, unless she was being held by an enormous teddy bear.
“Tall, guy; well over six foot. Shaved
head, big build,” Martha said quietly. “Someone that would stand out in a crowd
at least, not your average forty-something, white male. Certainly not average…”
she trailed off.
“What was she doing there, does anyone
know? Did she actually get hurt? Asked Ted, sitting down as exhaustion suddenly
enveloped him.
“Apparently she just ran into the road.
Luckily she wasn’t hit by a car but she did fall and hurt her head; she was out
cold for a few seconds.”
“But where did the man come from?”
“No one really knows; he was just there
suddenly. I have a theory though.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, that he was chasing her. That she’d
somehow managed to escape and he was chasing her across the park that was right
there, and she threw herself into the road in a desperate attempt to get away
from him and to attract attention. Unfortunately, these people are
professionals and are usually prepared for all eventualities.”
Ted felt sick. His little sister, all
alone, running for her life, and he wasn’t there to protect her.
“Is there anything we can do?” Ted barely
whispered.
“Not much… unless you want to go to the
site of the accident and have a look around? She can’t have run that far, maybe
we could ask around, see if anyone saw anything.”
“We? You want to come?”
“Of course.” She paused. “If that’s ok?”
“Beats sitting about and waiting, I guess,”
said Ted, cheering up slightly. “Where’s the nearest tube?”
“I’m not sure there is one, it’s somewhere
around Stoke Newington, but why don’t I drive? Means we’re more mobile. I’ll
pick you up in half and hour,” said Martha.
“Ok, I’ll give you the address…” but she’d
hung up.
Ted smiled as he realised she probably
already knew where he was staying; in fact she’d probably been here, more than
once.
Ted only had time for a quick wash and
change before an impatient-sounding car horn beeped outside the front of the
house. As he shut the door behind him, he suddenly wondered where Dillon had
got to.
Martha chatted nervously as she navigated
through London more skilfully than a seasoned black-cab driver, taking streets
that Ted never even knew existed; it was as if they opened up just to let Martha
through and then closed quietly behind them. Ted was impressed; he thought he
knew London well but not compared to her.
Ted glanced at Martha as she talked, her
full lips were moving so fast it was hard to tell they were moving at all. Her
green eyes darted between mirrors, not missing a thing; her hands flicked
indicators and turned the wheel with speed and accuracy. Ted was entranced.
“…don’t you think?”
“Ted?”
“Eh?”
“Don’t you think we should start at the
scene of the accident and work backwards across the park?”
“Er, yes, good idea,” Ted stammered,
suddenly aware he’d been staring at her. He scooped his bottom lip up off the
floor of the car and concentrated on facing forwards.
They had already reached the Stoke
Newington area and Martha appeared to be looking for a parking space. She found
one and expertly reverse-parked into a space that Ted was sure the car would
never fit.
As they got out of the car, Ted felt his
pocket vibrate; it was his dad. He answered his phone, quickly apologising for
the strange call he’d made earlier. He explained what had happened and that he
and Martha were at the scene of the accident now and were having a look around.
“But the police have already done that,
Ted. What are you expecting to find?”
“I don’t know, dad, but it’s like you said,
it’s better to be doing
something
, and you never know, they might have
missed
that
something,” Ted insisted.
There was silence on the end of the phone.
“Dad?”
“I’m nodding.”
“Ok, well I’ll keep you posted. Speak
later.”
As Ted snapped the phone shut he realised
his dad hadn’t asked anything more about Martha, or what he’d been doing for
the last week. Nor did he seem that bothered by their last phone call. His
dad’s usual interest and optimism was lacking and Ted feared he was losing hope.
He looked around for Martha and spotted her
further up the road. He jogged to catch up with her.
“Everything alright?” she asked absently,
looking around her like a true investigative journalist.
“Yes, just Dillon calling to see where I
am.” As he heard the lie come out of his mouth, he wondered for the second time
that day where the hell Dillon was. He felt almost resentful that he wasn’t
here with him, helping to look. After all, he was his best friend.
“There’s the entrance to the park, directly
opposite,” said Martha, indicating towards the gateway. “She would have seen
the road and all the cars before she got here so it must have been intentional
that she threw herself into the road. What I don’t understand is why she wasn’t
hit; it’s such a busy road.
“Although,” she said, looking at the road
again, “there is a pedestrian crossing just there so perhaps the traffic was
stationary right at the time she ran into the road.” This said more to herself
than Ted. “But that wouldn’t account for why nobody seemed to notice that she
was being chased.”
Ted was beginning to wonder if his presence
was necessary.
“Perhaps no one cares,” said Ted under his
breath.
Martha frowned but ignored him.
“I suggest we take the most direct route
across the park and see what’s on the other side.”
Ted nodded and followed her over the road
and across the park. They walked past a fountain, scattering pigeons – Ted felt
strange as he realised that Rosie may have trodden the exact same path not long
ago. He felt like he should be able to see her; that she must be close.
“She would have run to the nearest exit,
not wanting to get lost or be too far away from public places or people,”
Martha commentated as she walked. Ted tried to follow her train of thought,
though the logic was baffling him slightly. He’d never been into detective
stories; things were either there or they weren’t as far as he was concerned,
but Martha seemed like she’d just stepped out of one, she appeared to love the
intrigue and the mystery. In fact, now that Ted was thinking about it, she bore
an uncanny resemblance to Rosie in that respect. No wonder she could think like
her.
They walked past an aviary with colourful
birds that looked strangely out of place, then over a bridge and out through
the gate that Martha thought Rosie must have entered the park by. They stood
looking around them. Ted pretended to be pondering which way to go but really
he had no clue and was waiting for Martha to take the lead. He watched her eyes
scan the street as if she was seeing something he wasn’t privy to.
“I think left. I don’t think she would have
run up the road and then doubled back through the park, she would have run in a
straight line away from where she was being kept,” Martha said decisively.
“I was thinking the same,” agreed Ted.
Martha flashed him a knowing smile. “Great
minds…”
They walked past small shops, cafes,
restaurants, Martha looking in all the windows, as well as studying the streets
and their signs. People must have either thought she worked for the council (although
she was moving too much and looking far too busy) or that she was some kind of
geeky street- or sign spotter.
“What are you looking for, exactly?” asked
Ted, thinking that she was going slightly over the top and fancied herself as a
young Miss Marple.
“I’m just keeping my eyes open and making
sure I take everything in. You never know what might present itself.”
Ted stifled a snigger as he wandered on
past her, deciding to take in the bigger picture and look up and around him
more. Turned out it was just more of the same; more bars, more shops, nothing
that looked like somewhere child traffickers would be keeping innocent,
defenceless kids.
“I’m gonna grab a drink, want anything?” he
heard Martha shout from a few feet behind him.
He turned and saw she’d stopped outside a
cafe. He nodded and headed back towards her. As he passed the window he looked
inside where something caught his eye. Leant up against the window was a really
familiar picture. He wracked his brains, desperately trying to remember where
he’d seen one like that before. Then it hit him like a charging bull. He pushed
passed Martha and launched himself at the window, sending cutlery flying.
Reaching behind a plant he pulled out the photograph of him as a child.
“Ted, what the hell are you doing?”
“How the fffuzz did this get here?”
“What?”
“This picture. It’s of me!”
“Don’t be daft, of course it’s not you,
that’s a kid jumping on a bed, in the buff,” said Martha, looking over his
shoulder. “What’s got into you?”
“Oh shit, it’s Rosie.”
“Rosie? I thought you said it was you.”
Ted rushed over to the waitress.
“Excuse me, have you had a girl in here
recently? Umm, yesterday it must have been. Brown hair, skinny?”
Ted remembered the photo he had of Rosie
and pulled it out to show the waitress.
“Yeah, she was in here yesterday with a
strange bloke. She tried to leave without paying. We had to call the cops but
she ran off.”
“Did you see which direction she ran in?”
asked Ted, excitedly.
“Er, yeah, she went out the door and left I
think. Why do you know her? You gonna pay her debt?”
Ted looked distractedly towards the door.
“Er, sure, here,” he threw a tenner at the
startled waitress and walked back to Martha.
“Rosie must have left this picture. She
took it from me the day she was caught, she must have found it in her pocket
and worked out a way to leave it as a clue,” Ted said excitedly.