Authors: Pamela Fudge
Staring
up
and
down
the
road
I
sobbed
my
little
boy’s
name
over
and
over
again,
wondering
at
how
quickly
he
had
disappeared
from
sight
and
how
that
could
have
happened.
I’m
not
sure
when
the
realisation
finally
dawned
that
Will
hadn’t
actually
just
wandered
off
of
his
own
accord.
After
all,
where
would
he
have
gone,
and
why?
I
became
increasingly
sure
that
he
wouldn’t
do
such
a
thing
because
he
knew
better,
having
had
drummed
into
him
from
a
very
early
age
the
dangers
of
going
off
alone.
There
was
only
one
explanation
for
his
disappearance
and
it
was
that
he
must
have
been
taken.
The
thought
that
William
had
been
stolen
right
from
under
our
noses
sent
the
trickle
of
ice
through
my
veins
and
I
finally
and
unwillingly
accepted
what
I
must
have
already
known
deep
in
my
heart.
William
had
been
taken
–
and
I
was
very
afraid
I
knew
who
had
taken
him.
‘Oh,
God,
oh,
God,
oh,
God.’
I
recalled
the
tall
man,
Gareth,
standing
in
front
of
me
in
the
crowd.
I
remembered
the
way
he
had
been
staring
across
the
crowded
foyer
at
Will,
and
I
was
suddenly
sure
that
he
was
the
one.
The
fact
was
that
my
son
had
been
kidnapped
and
knowing
the
kidnapper
wasn’t
some
random
stranger
didn’t
help
–
not
one
little
bit.
Out
on
that
street
I
spun
this
way
and
that
until
I
was
giddy,
looking
desperately
for
someone
who
stood
head
and
shoulders
above
everyone
else.
If
only
I
could
just
find
him,
I
would
find
Will.
Yet
even
as
I
searched
the
street
frantically,
I
instinctively
knew
it
was
pointless
because
he
would
have
left
the
theatre
immediately
and
taken
my
son
with
him.
What
I
couldn’t
work
out
was
why,
because
surely
he
was
aware
that
you
couldn’t
just
remove
a
child
from
his
parents’
care
without
repercussions?
No,
not
even
if
you
could
claim
to
be
one
of
those
parents.
‘He’s
been
taken.’
I
ran
back
inside
and
fell
into
Jon’s
arms
crying
helplessly,
‘Will’s
been
taken.
I
know
he
has.’
‘No,’
John
said,
his
face
ashen,
because
he
read
the
newspapers
and
watched
the
news
and
so
of
course
he
fully
understood
the
dangers
children
faced
every
day.
What
he
didn’t
understand
was
that
this
perpetrator
had
a
particular
interest
in
William
because
he
had
recognised
me
and,
putting
two
and
two
together,
believed
him
to
be
his
son.
‘Did
you
see
someone
take
him?’
The
security
guard
stood
in
front
of
us,
his
youthful
face
serious.
‘No,’
I
sobbed,
‘but
he
would
never
just
wander
off
and...,’
I
took
a
deep
breath,
‘I
think
I
know
who’s
taken
him.
I
do,
I
think
I
know
who’s
taken
him,’
I
repeated,
and
prepared
to
make
a
confession
that
would
break
Jon’s
heart,
but
would
have
to
be
done
if
I
was
to
get
my
son
back.
Unable
to
look
at
Jon,
I
opened
my
mouth
to
make
a
confession
that
was
long
overdue.
‘I
–
erm,’
I
struggled
to
find
the
right
words,
but
somehow
I
had
to
find
the
strength
to
say
them
so
that
the
hunt
for
my
son
and
his
abductor
could
begin
in
earnest.
I
straightened
my
shoulders
with
grim
determination,
took
a
deep
breath
and...
‘Mummy,
look
what
I’ve
found.’
I
almost
collapsed
with
the
shock,
because
there
in
front
of
me
stood
Will,
large
as
life
and
with
a
huge
smile
on
his
face
–
and
he
was
hand
in
hand
with
a
lion.
Well,
not
a
real
lion,
obviously,
but
an
actor
from
the
show
dressed
as
one.
I
immediately
went
weak
with
relief.
Before
I
could
even
begin
to
collect
my
wits
and
move
myself,
Jon
had
rushed
forward,
bent
to
gather
William
into
his
arms
and
then
stood
hugging
him
tightly
to
his
chest.
‘Where
on
earth
did
you
go,
Will?’
he
demanded,
but
with
very
little
anger
in
his
relieved
tone,
‘You
frightened
the
life
out
of
us.
You
know
you
must
never
run
off
like
that.’
William’s
mouth
drooped
at
the
chastisement
that
–
even
at
his
young
age
–
he
knew
full
well
he
deserved,
but
then
he
peeped
up
at
Jon
from
under
his
fringe
and
said
reasonably,
‘But
I
only
wanted
to
see
if
I
could
find
a
lion
to
be
my
friend,
and
you
and
Mummy
were
going
the
wrong
way.
I
found
this
one
behind
the
big
curtains
up
on
the
stage.’
The
young
security
guard
touched
my
arm
and
I
looked
up
at
him,
wondering
what
he
wanted
and
if
I
looked
as
dazed
as
I
felt.
‘I’ll
head
the
police
off,
shall
I?’
he
murmured.
‘We
don’t
want
to
waste
their
time
and
if
they
come
rushing
in
now
they’ll
probably
frighten
the
little
lad
to
death.’
‘Might
be
just
what
he
deserves
for
giving
us
such
a
fright,’
I
said
ruefully,
‘but,
yes,
we
don’t
want
to
waste
any
more
of
their
time
than
we
might
have
already.’
I
went
over
to
the
young
lion
then
and
thanked
him
–
or
it
might
have
been a
her
–
for
bringing
Will
safely
and
quickly
back
to
us.
‘No
worries,’
the
lion
said,
and
then
whispered,
‘next
time
you
come
to
see
the
show
let
us
know
beforehand
and
we’ll
arrange
a
back-stage
pass.
Best
not
tell
your
little
boy
that
now,
however,
or
he’ll
get
the
impression
he’s
being
rewarded
for
bad
behaviour.
Ten
out
of
ten
to
him,
though,
for
being
the
first
kid
we
know
who
has
managed
to
find
his
own
way
back
into
the
lions’
den.’
The
lion
crouched
down
in
front
of
Will,
who
Jon
had
just
set
back
down
upon
the
ground,
‘Next
time
you
want
to
meet
a
lion,
young
man,’
the
actor
said,
‘ask
your
parents
to
make
an
appointment,
or
take
you
to
the
zoo.
It
will
save
everyone
a
lot
of
worry.’
*
We
didn’t
think
it
right,
not
after
the
trouble
William
had
caused,
to
do
anything
other
than
take
him
straight
home
from
the
theatre,
but
the
relief
at
getting
him
safely
back
made
it
extremely
difficult
to
stay
angry
with
him
for
long.
We
did
spend
a
lot
of
the
time
on
the
train
journey
home
drumming
into
him
the
very
serious
trouble
he
could
find
himself
in
if
he
made
a
habit
of
running
off
like
that.
‘Did
you
realise
that
the
police
had
to
be
called
when
we
discovered
you
were
missing?’
Jon
said
sternly.
Will’s
eyes
were
round
with
astonishment.
‘Why?
Were
they
going
to
arrest
me
for
going
off?’
‘No,’
I
told
him,
‘but
they
would
have
had
to
arrange
a
search
party
because
no
one
had
any
idea
where
you
were,
William.
Anything
could
have
happened
to
you.’
‘What,
though?’
he
looked
intrigued
rather
than
worried.
‘You
could
have
been
run
over,’
Jon
pointed
out.
‘But
I
didn’t
go
outside,’
Will
protested
indignantly.