Page 8 of Maybe Tomorrow

Pauline went into the hallway where her son’s clothes were dumped in a soggy heap. She picked them up, held them at arm’s length so she wouldn’t get wet and took them into the kitchen. As she loaded them into her new front-loading washing machine, she stopped as something caught her eye. The trousers were torn on the left knee and there were muddy scuff-marks all over the bum. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, a stain of red that looked like blood along the back pocket. What had that boy been up to?

She stuffed the clothes into the machine, filled the drawer with powder and softener and put it on a high wash. Those stains needed removing.

ChapterThree

The chiming of the clock on the wall in the living room timed perfectly with another rumble of thunder, though this one wasn’t as loud. The storm seemed to be heading out to sea.

Judith looked up. She was sitting on the edge of the sofa, arms wrapped around her, tense and agitated, tears staining her face. It was midnight, and Alice was still missing.

‘She hates weather like this,’ Judith said, not for the first time.

She looked over at WPC Freya Sloan in the armchair. She was only young, probably not much older than her missing daughter. She had neat, shoulder-length brown hair and beautiful skin, so smooth. She gave Judith a sympathetic smile that revealed dimples in her cheeks.

‘I’m not a fan of it either,’ Freya said. She brushed her hair behind her ear. ‘Would you like me to make you another cup of tea?’

‘No. Thank you.’

Judith stood up and went over to the bay window. She pulled back the curtain and looked outside. All she could see was her reflection staring back at her.

‘I can’t do this. It’s madness to be just sitting here waiting.’

‘Judith, it’s better for someone to remain at home. If Alice decided to shelter somewhere from the storm, she may come home now it’s abating a bit. She’ll need to see a friendly face.’

Judith nodded. She understood. She just couldn’t stand not doing anything. She returned to the sofa and sat down.

‘Tell me about Alice,’ Freya said. ‘You mentioned she likes reading, what else does she enjoy?’

‘She likes to make her own clothes,’ Judith said with a smile. ‘I got her into that when she was young. I was always getting patterns and making a skirt or a dress. When she was little, she used to sit in that seat where you are and watch me as I sized up the material and cut it to the right shape. When she was old enough, she’d help. She was a natural at it.’

Freya smiled. ‘I wouldn’t know where to begin.’

‘It’s actually quite easy. Those patterns you can buy give you a step-by-step guide.’

‘And the jumper she was wearing when she left this morning, she made that, too?’

‘Yes. It was her first try at knitting. She spent all summer making it.’

‘Does she have many friends?’

Judith’s face dropped. ‘No. She finds it difficult to make friends.’

‘What about the people she’s at college with?’

Judith shook her head. More tears pricked her eyes, and she wiped them away before they could fall.

‘They don’t understand. She’s a regular teenager, like the rest of them. She has the same feelings and emotions. Because she looks a bit different and has learning difficulties, they treat her so… well, some of them can be very cruel.’

‘She’s bullied?’

‘She says she isn’t, but she is.’

‘How do you know?’

Judith stole a glance at Freya and quickly looked away. ‘I… a few months ago, Alice was very quiet. She seemed sad but wouldn’t tell me why. I was worried about her, so I took the day off work and followed her to the college. A couple of the girls were laughing at her. I heard one mention her weight. I wanted to march right over there and slap them, but, well, that wouldn’t have done Alice any good at all, would it?’

‘No.’

‘I just wanted to see for myself what she was going through.’