While My Eyes Were Closed (7 page)

I told Sparrow about it. She never even knew her dad so it must have been a bit weird for her. It was good to talk to her though. It’s always good to talk to her. She asked me if I hated him. I said hate was too strong a word. I just thought he was a sad bastard. Pathetic, really. Like Boris Johnson but not even funny.
I’d almost feel sorry for him if it wasn’t for what he’s done to Mum.

She’s not good, which is hardly surprising in the circumstances. The trouble is she hasn’t even talked about it properly since. We had one conversation which went something like: ‘Has he told you yet?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘We don’t need to speak about this to anyone.’ ‘OK.’ ‘In fact, I’d rather we didn’t speak about it at all.’ I shrugged cos she doesn’t like me saying, ‘Whatever.’ And that was it. He must have come back to take all his stuff while I was at school cos when I got home his office had been emptied, and I don’t know what Mum had done but it was like she’d cleaned the whole house so there was not one trace left of him. He has been photoshopped out of existence. I don’t think she’s told anyone at work either. She’s probably too embarrassed. I bet she hasn’t told anyone else at all. We’ll probably still get Christmas cards addressed to both of them for years to come, and Mum will just cross out his name inside or something.

It’s not good, I know that. Sparrow says Mum’s in denial, which I guess she is, but not even Sparrow understands how weird she actually is. Sometimes I wish Mum would scream or cry or chuck a bottle at the wall – anything really to demonstrate how much she is hurting. But she doesn’t; she just does that pursing-her-lips thing and leaves the room or starts rearranging ornaments or something. It’s seriously weird. Mind you, if I didn’t have Sparrow to talk to then maybe I wouldn’t
be any better. It’s not like I’ve got any other friends at school, not ones I can talk to like her, anyway. Mum’s asked a few times if there are any other boys from the sixth form I’d like to invite round. I told her we don’t do stuff like that at my age; we just hang out at school. She doesn’t ask about girls, of course. We never speak about girls. It’s not something she’s ever said to me; it’s just an unspoken rule.
There will be no mention of girls in this house
. That’s why I’ve never even mentioned Sparrow to her. I don’t want to anyway, it would spoil things. When you love someone that much, part of you doesn’t want anyone else to know about it because it would take a bit of the magic away. People at school just think we’re best mates. Two nerdy geeks who hang out together because they haven’t got any other friends. Although that’s not true. Sparrow has other friends even if I haven’t. I sometimes wonder what I’d do without her. I can’t remember what life was like before I met her. I know I went to The Grange and that, and I remember what my uniform looked like, but I can’t remember how I felt about anything. Not really. It’s like I wasn’t properly alive until I met her. And I certainly can’t imagine existing without her now. I wouldn’t see the point. Anyway, I don’t have to worry about that. Not unless we both completely screw our A levels up, and according to our predicted grades that is not going to happen. To be honest I can’t wait to get sixth form out of the way now. I just want to skip to the bit where we have both got our
places at Leeds. That’ll be amazing cos when we’re at uni I can be with her all the time. Properly with her, not only during lessons. We can hang out together all the time and I won’t have to worry about Mum seeing us or asking me where I’ve been and all that crap. It will just be me and Sparrow. We might even get a place together in our second year. I mean it would make sense and that. I wouldn’t even need to tell Mum. I’ll simply say I’m sharing with a friend. She hasn’t got to know who it is. And then when we’re done with uni we can maybe do a gap year and go round the world together or something. I wouldn’t really care where we went, to be honest. As long as I was with her, that’s the only thing which would matter. The only thing which will ever matter.

Everybody stops searching when they hear the police siren as if it’s some sort of traditional party game where it’s the cue to freeze. Maybe they think they might get told off for not searching correctly. Like the way people stop helping someone who’s collapsed as soon as a paramedic arrives. The professionals are here now. They will tell us what to do. We will leave it to them.

I don’t want to leave it to them, though. I want to carry on looking. It should be my job to find her. I’m the bloody mother.

The police car pulls into the car park and a few moments later two coppers emerge and walk towards the playground. The shorter one, a woman, walks a step or two in front of the man. They probably sent a woman because they thought I’d be in a state. I’m not in a state.
Not really. I just need to find Ella. As they get nearer I see them stop and talk to a woman who points at me. Suddenly everyone in the whole fucking park knows who I am. Half an hour ago no one gave me a second look. Now I’m some kind of celebrity. ‘That’s her,’ they’ll be saying. ‘That’s the one who’s lost her kid.’

The copper smiles slightly as she approaches.

‘Lisa Dale?’ she asks. I nod. Her smile drops and my jaw tightens. For a second I think she is going to give me bad news. That they have found Ella dead in the road somewhere. That people have stopped searching because they have been told not to bother because it’s too late.

‘I’m PC Reynolds and this is PC McElroy. I understand you’ve lost your daughter.’

She says it like there is something wrong with me, that this is just me being stupid, like it’s all some little misunderstanding.

‘She’s been taken,’ I say. It surprises me as I say it. I hadn’t even realised I thought that until now.

‘I understand that you’re worried and we’re here to help, but we need to take this step by step, so we can build up a picture of what happened.’

‘I know what happened, and someone’s got her. She would have come out by now if she was hiding. And she wouldn’t have left the park without me – she knows not to do that. She’s never done this before. Someone’s taken her. I know they have.’

My voice is surprisingly steady as I speak. I see them
looking at me, trying to work me out. Maybe wondering why I sound so calm when my daughter is missing. I am not calm inside, mind. Inside I feel like I’m having some kind of intense cardiovascular workout without actually moving my body an inch.

‘Right,’ says PC Reynolds. ‘Well rest assured we’re taking your call very seriously. We have three police community support officers who will be here in a moment and numerous other officers are on their way. Let me just go over some of the details you gave us. When did you last see your daughter?’

‘About ten past three. We were playing hide-and-seek. She’s very good at it. That’s why I spent a long time looking for her before I called. I felt a bit stupid, to be honest. I didn’t want to waste your time.’

‘And can you describe your daughter for me?’

‘She’s four, five next month. Slim . . . well, skinny really. She’s got dark blonde hair with a fringe. Kind of shoulder length.’

‘What was she wearing?’

‘A green and white striped T-shirt dress with a big pink flower on it. And green leggings and Crocs. I told you all this when I phoned.’

‘I know, but we need to double-check all the details. Are there any other distinguishing features?’

‘No. Not really. She had grazes on both hands, mind.’

PC Reynolds looks up at me.

‘She fell over just there,’ I say, pointing to the path.

‘Did anyone else see her fall over?’

‘I don’t know. My eyes were closed. I told you, we were playing hide-and-seek.’

She is writing all this down in her notebook. I wonder if she thinks I am a bad mother. Maybe not. She doesn’t look old enough to be a mother herself. Although that’s a bit rich coming from me.

‘OK. Can you take me to the exact place you last saw her?’

I head over to the little path. PC Reynolds and the male copper, whose name I have already forgotten, follow. Other people look down and clear the way as we walk. Like they are embarrassed because something bad has happened and they don’t want to look me in the eye.

I stop at what I think is the right place. I look back to the tree where I was counting and try to work out exactly where she was when I heard her cry.

‘Here,’ I say. ‘This is where she fell. She screamed and I ran over to check she was OK, and then I went back to that tree to count while she hid again.’

‘And can you remember if you heard her footsteps running away? Or anyone else’s voice?’

I shake my head.

‘No. My phone rang, see. I had to answer it. Work, you know.’

I shrug, sure she does think I’m a bad mother now.

‘And how long was it before you started looking for her?’

‘I don’t know. I mean I was talking on my mobile for a while, and then I shut my eyes and pretended to count in case Ella was looking, and then when I opened them I realised I’d lost her balloon.’

‘Her balloon?’

‘Yeah, a red one from the lad’s party she went to earlier. I was looking after it for her. I only realised it was gone when I started looking for her.’

I look down at the ground, knowing how shabby it all sounds.

‘So perhaps it was as long as five minutes altogether?’

‘Yeah,’ I say with a sigh. ‘It was probably a good five minutes or so.’

She nods, walks a little distance away and speaks into her radio. I look around and see that there are three other coppers in the park now. I see the flashing lights in the car park and hear another siren from the road that runs alongside it. More coppers appear a moment later. They are running this time. I brush my hair away from my face, aware that my hands feel clammy. This is real. It is happening to me. I am not going to wake up from this.

I hear an out-of-breath voice say, ‘Lisa.’ There’s a hand on my shoulder. For a moment I think it is Alex but turn to see Dad standing there in a grease-stained T-shirt and jeans which are belted too tight under his belly. He hugs me. I can feel him shaking. I have never known him shake before. Maybe that is why I start feeling sick.

‘Why haven’t they found her yet?’ he asks.

I shrug, unable to produce any words.

He goes up to the male copper and points accusingly at his face. ‘What are you doing standing around here? You should be out there looking for her.’

‘Sorry,’ I say to the copper. ‘He’s my dad.’

The copper turns to Dad. ‘I can assure you both that we are doing everything we can but we have to go through set procedures in cases like this.’

‘I don’t care about your fucking procedures. She’s four years old. I want everyone out there on the streets looking for her.’

‘Dad, don’t,’ I say as PC Reynolds comes back over to us. ‘They’re doing their best.’

‘Well their best’s not bloody good enough. She’s not here, is she? It’s a waste of time looking for her here.’

‘Sorry,’ I say to both the coppers. ‘He’s a bit upset.’

‘I understand that,’ says PC Reynolds. ‘But in a missing-persons case we always start with a thorough search of the area where the person was last seen. That’s what the officers are doing now.’

She gestures across the park. There must be at least eight pairs of coppers searching now. It’s as if they are multiplying every time I look up. It should make me feel better but it doesn’t. It makes me feel worse.

Another copper is making his way towards me. He has one of those flat hats on. Maybe he has bad news for me. Maybe they have sent someone senior to tell me something terrible. He holds out his hand.

‘Mrs Dale, I’m Sergeant Fuller from the Halifax station. I’m in charge of our operation here. More officers are being deployed as we speak and we have a thorough search going on.’

‘She’s not here,’ says Dad. ‘Someone’s taken her.’

Sergeant Fuller looks at me. ‘He’s my dad,’ I say, wondering if I should get some kind of sign to hang around his neck so I don’t have to keep apologising for him.

‘Right. Mister?’

‘Benson,’ says Dad.

‘Mr Benson, I can assure you that officers have been deployed to a variety of tasks including containing the immediate area and taking details of everyone leaving the area. Several officers around the park also have recording cameras and we have a police search adviser on the way. In the meantime we are doing everything we can to make sure we find her.’

Dad shakes his head and paws at the ground with a foot, like some bull about to charge. I suspect it’s only the fact that Sergeant Fuller is obviously local that has stopped Dad from letting rip at him.

Fuller turns back to face me. ‘Were there any family members or friends in the park at the time?’

I shake my head.

‘What about school friends?’

‘She doesn’t go to school yet. She’s due to start reception on Monday.’

My voice catches as I say it.

Sergeant Fuller nods. ‘Nursery friends then? Or other children she knows?’

‘No. She went to a neighbour’s party in town this morning, but none of them were here. She’d have said if they were. She doesn’t miss a thing.’

‘OK. We will need the names of all of those at the party though. My colleague mentioned that you lost a balloon which belonged to her.’

‘Yeah. I had it when I got here. I’m pretty sure I had it when she fell over, but I must have let go at some point after that, maybe when I answered my phone.’ My voice trails off. I’m aware that the phone is about the only thing I have managed to keep hold of.

‘Right. Have you got a photo of her on your phone?’

I get out my mobile and start swiping through the photos.

‘Anything taken today?’ he asks.

I shake my head. I should have taken one of her climbing up to the slide. I didn’t even think of it, though. He probably thinks I am a bad mum too.

‘What about one wearing the same clothes as she has on today?’

I swipe further back, and my finger stops over a photo of her wearing the green and white striped dress on the beach at Bridlington last month. She doesn’t have the leggings on but the dress is the same.

‘Here,’ I say, passing the phone to him. ‘That’s the dress she’s wearing.’