Missing Me (8 page)

This was
so
unfair. It was hard to speak up with so many people watching, but I couldn’t let Wolf go undefended.

‘Wolf
didn’t
scream,’ I insisted. ‘He was very brave.’

‘Really?’ His father sniffed contemptuously, like he didn’t believe a word.

‘I checked the Den door,’ Hobbs said, reappearing silently at Declan Baxter’s elbow. ‘It’s working perfectly. Not locked at all.’

That was odd.

‘The kids must have panicked,’ Wolf’s father said with another sneer.

‘Madison?’ I turned around. Allan was standing behind me, his mouth open in shock. ‘What on earth . . .?’

I scuttled towards him, forgetting the others in my desire to explain what had happened. Allan’s eyes widened as I told him about the door to the Den mysteriously jamming, then grew more
horrified as I explained how we’d come across the tiger.

‘Oh my God,’ he said. He pulled me into a hug. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine.’

Allan glanced over at Declan Baxter. He was surrounded by people.

‘Do you still need to speak to Mr Baxter?’ I asked.

Allan shook his head. ‘He’s already ignored me twice,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘Anyway, that’s not important right now. What matters is that you’re safe.
Come on, you’re white as a sheet, let’s get you out of here. I’ve got my car, I’ll run you home.’

He took my arm, ready to steer me away. I just had time to register how sweet he was being – especially compared to Esme and Wolf’s fathers – when Esme herself appeared beside
me.

‘You’re not running off, are you?’ she said. ‘Stay and watch the circus show. I’m going to get changed, but I won’t be a minute.’

I bit my lip. Part of me was tempted to stay, but now that the euphoria of escaping the tiger had faded, I actually felt pretty shaky. What I wanted more than anything was my own home and a hot
bath.

‘Maybe another time?’ Allan said. I smiled at him gratefully.

‘Sure. Where d’you live? What’s your number?’ Esme produced a phone and we swapped details.

It wasn’t until Allan and I had left the marquee that I realised I hadn’t seen Wolf to say goodbye. I looked over my shoulder as we headed through to the main house, but there was no
sign of him.

‘What was Esme Baxter like?’ Allan asked.

‘Nice,’ I said, then remembered the rather cruel way she’d humiliated Wolf in front of his father. I was sure she hadn’t meant to be unkind, but it was certainly
insensitive. ‘Complicated, though.’

Allan nodded. ‘Like father, like daughter.’ He paused. ‘It’s great you might meet up again . . . seeing as you obviously hit it off.’

We passed a clown with a tray of drinks. Allan took a glass of water and offered it to me. I drank thirstily. I had the strong sense there was something Allan wanted to say. ‘What is
it?’ I asked.

‘Nothing.’ Allan led me outside and we crossed the crunchy gravel drive.

‘So how come Mr Baxter invited you to his party if he didn’t want to speak to you?’ I asked as we turned onto the pavement.

Allan grimaced. ‘Oh, I’m way too far down the food chain for Baxter to take any notice of me. Still, I found something out . . . something that Baxter’s done.’

I stared at him, deeply curious. ‘
What?
’ I asked.

Allan lowered his voice. ‘This is highly confidential, Madison. You
have
to keep it a secret, OK?’

‘Sure,’ I said as we walked along. Excitement thrilled through me. ‘What has Mr Baxter done?’

‘Nothing I can prove yet,’ Allan said. ‘But . . . look, when I said I knew him through work . . . well, it’s true, but what I
really
meant was that I was
investigating him . . . I didn’t say before because I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position at the party . . .’

My throat tightened. ‘Investigating him for what?’ I said.

Allan stopped beside a black car, parked on the side of the road. ‘Get in,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you while I drive you home.’

I hesitated. Allan’s car was large and shiny. I had no idea what make it was, but it looked as stylish as his suits, with its sleek wooden dashboard and elegantly curved
bonnet. I stood on the pavement, Annie’s endless warnings about getting into cars with strangers threading through my head, but Allan had already proved himself a decent and caring person.
Hadn’t he? Everything he’d said and done so far suggested he was simply interested in getting to know me a little.

‘I can call you a taxi if you’d rather, Madison,’ he said.

I took a deep breath. ‘It’s fine, thanks.’ I got into the passenger seat as Allan pulled onto the road. As we drove off, a few spots of rain spattered the windscreen. I peered
out of the window, surprised. I’d been so preoccupied I hadn’t even noticed how much the sky had clouded over. It was still early evening – not yet 7.30 pm.

‘Declan Baxter is a phenomenally successful businessman,’ Allan said, his eyes on the road. ‘But rumours about his criminal activities have been circulating for
years.’

‘Have the police looked into him?’ I said.

Allan shrugged. ‘I think there’ve been a couple of small-scale investigations, but nothing has ever come of them. I don’t know whether that’s because there was a cover-up
or whether the police found no evidence of wrongdoing.’

I thought of Esme. This was her father we were talking about.

‘Maybe he’s innocent?’ I suggested.

Allan gave a snort. ‘Somehow I doubt that,’ he said. ‘There’s no smoke without fire.’

‘So . . . so what exactly are you investigating about him?’ I asked.

Allan hesitated.

‘I won’t tell anyone,’ I said. I wanted to explain how much I wanted to be an investigative journalist myself, but I still felt too shy. Allan was
so
cool. How could I
tell him I aspired to the same job that he obviously did so well?

‘OK.’ Allan nodded. ‘I know I can trust you . . . I’m trying to find out about some missing girls . . . that is, rumours of girls coming into the country and disappearing
without a trace.’

‘That’s . . . isn’t that called trafficking?’ I said, trying to sound knowledgeable. Allan was actually sharing proper, grown-up information. Unlike Annie, who treated me
like a child, he was talking to me as if I were an equal.

‘There’s no suggestion that the girls are being used illegally – no hint of prostitution or slave labour . . .’ Allan went on. ‘Just a bunch of rumours that Baxter
pays them to enter the country . . . then “disappears” them.’

‘Whoa.’ I shivered. ‘What was the new information you got today?’

‘A name and a number,’ Allan said. ‘Miriam 21.’

‘What d’you think it means?’

‘No idea, I’m afraid.’ Allan sighed. ‘Maybe it’s the name and age of the latest girl.’

We drove on for a while in silence. I checked my face for dirty smudges in the mirror above the passenger seat, and wiped away a couple of grubby smears. We were getting close to my house, when
Allan cleared his throat.

‘So, do you think you’ll meet up with Baxter’s daughter, Esme, again?’

‘I guess.’ I thought about it. Esme had acted a bit spoilt, for sure, and she’d definitely taken her teasing of Wolf too far in front of his dad, but she’d also been
funny and interesting. Of course Esme herself wasn’t the whole story. If I were honest, I wanted to see Wolf again too – he intrigued me as much as Esme – and the only way I could
do that was through her.

‘What about me?’ Allan said. ‘Now we’ve met and you’ve had a chance to hang out for a bit, would you like to get together again?’ He paused. ‘I
don’t want to do anything that will make you feel uncomfortable. I realise at this stage that I can’t be any kind of conventional father to you, but . . .’ He tailed off.

‘Yes,’ I said with a smile. It struck me that a lot of men would have behaved just like Lauren and Annie had predicted – running a mile in the face of a child they had never
actively wanted – and that I was really lucky that Allan seemed genuinely to want to get to know me.

‘Great.’ Allan smiled back. ‘I’ll give you a ring, then.’

A few minutes later, he dropped me at the end of my road. As I walked in the front door, Annie was flapping about in the hallway.

‘There you are, Madison,’ she said, her face filling with relief. ‘I was going to have to leave you a message. Did you have a nice time with Rosa?’

It took me a second to remember my cover story, so much had happened since I set off earlier this afternoon. Thank goodness Wolf had lent me his jacket. Without it, my top would have got dirty
and then Annie would have been full of questions about what I’d been doing.

‘Great, thanks,’ I said. ‘What was the message about?’

‘Oh.’ Annie’s hand fluttered to her chest. ‘Just that Lydia called with a last-minute invite for us to go for supper. I was supposed to be there fifteen minutes ago. I
didn’t think you’d be back in time, but now you are, you can come too.’

‘Right.’ I could tell from the slightly fake-smiley way Annie was speaking that she had some hidden agenda.

‘Lydia will be so pleased that you can come,’ Annie went on. ‘Lauren’s going to be there too.’

So that was it. I’d refused to talk to Annie about having a sperm donor father, so now she was hoping that I’d speak to Lauren about it.

‘I need to take a shower first, though,’ I said, hoping I could get out of the visit. Honestly, it was so typical of Annie to try and force the issue like this. Thinking it through,
I was certain Lauren wasn’t behind our meeting – she was letting things be . . . letting me come to her when I was ready . . . Why couldn’t Annie do that too?

‘Please, Madison.’ Annie wrung her hands together, her voice suddenly all wobbly. ‘It’ll only be a couple of hours and Lydia will think it rude if—’

‘Fine,’ I said, my irritation rising. Why couldn’t Annie ever say what she properly meant? ‘But I still don’t want to talk about
anything.
’

I stomped off to my room and splashed some water on my face. Considering our climb over the iron gate, my jeans didn’t look too bad. I decided not to bother to change them. I’d have
a bath when I got back.

Annie and I walked to Lauren’s mum’s house in silence. Annie tried to get me talking about the weather of all things. Again, it was so obviously a fake topic that I felt really
resentful. Rory opened the door to us. He was in the living room with a bunch of his friends, including the gorgeous Marcus, who gave me such a sexy smile as I passed the door that I nearly
fainted.

Lydia and Lauren were in the kitchen. Lauren’s skin had that same peachy glow as before and her belly seemed even bigger than it had earlier in the week. She struggled to her feet as we
came in and Annie immediately started fussing, saying she thought Lauren looked pale and tired.

‘D’you think perhaps you’re doing too much, Lauren sweetie?’ she went on anxiously.

What was she talking about? As far as I could see, Lauren looked healthier than I’d ever seen her.

‘I’m fine,’ Lauren said with a hint of irritation in her voice. ‘I’m going swimming every morning and—’

‘Are you sure that’s not too much?’ Annie said.

Lauren’s voice rose: ‘Well, according to Chelsey Barton’s pregnancy book, swimming is the best exercise you can do if—’

‘Why don’t I take you upstairs, Annie?’ Lydia said quickly. ‘I’ve just bought a new dress I wanted to show you.’

I met Lauren’s eyes. We both knew Lydia was trying to get Annie out of the way.

‘You girls stay here,’ Lydia went on. ‘This one’s for middle-aged ladies only.’ She left the room, Annie trailing in her wake.

Lauren sat down heavily at the kitchen table again and rolled her eyes.

‘What is Annie like?’ she said with a sigh.

‘Tell me about it,’ I said. ‘I have to live with her.’

Lauren grimaced. She fingered the jewelled, vintage cross around her neck. ‘You know she’s been on the phone to me every day since I last saw you, worrying that you’re not
coping with this sperm donor stuff and begging me to try talking to you.’

I looked away.

‘I’ve told her you’re too sensible to go chasing some ridiculous dream, but she won’t listen. She thinks you’re going to try tracking down the donor dad . .
.’

‘
Our
donor dad,’ I said, turning back to her.

Lauren threw me a sharp look. ‘He won’t want to know you,’ she said. Her blue eyes bored into me. She took her hand away from the cross around her neck and pressed it flat on
the table for emphasis. ‘If he’d wanted to know you, he wouldn’t have been an
anonymous
donor, would he?’

What was Lauren saying? That I wasn’t worth knowing? Well, she was wrong. Totally wrong. Allan
did
want to know me. Anger spiralled up inside me. How dare Lauren assume she knew
what someone in Allan’s position would think or feel or say or do? How dare she think she knew better than me about what
I
should do?

‘Don’t look at me like that, Mo,’ Lauren said fiercely. ‘I’m only looking out for you.’

‘I can take care of myself.’ I marched to the door, feeling really furious now. ‘Tell Lydia I’m sorry about dinner and tell Annie I’ve gone home.’

‘Wait—’

But I didn’t stop to listen. Tears pricked at my eyes as I headed back to the front door and let myself out. I didn’t know why I was so upset, just that everything with Lauren seemed
to be changing now. It was partly the baby and partly her refusal to understand how I felt about Allan . . . it really hurt.

I switched off my phone, got home and had the long soak in the bath I’d been looking forward to. Annie arrived back about an hour later. Again, she was all concerned and wanting to talk,
and again, I walked away, shutting myself up in my room and watching movies into the small hours.

I slept late the next day, Sunday, and it wasn’t until I’d been awake for half an hour or so that I remembered my phone was still switched off. I turned it on, to find messages from
Rosa and Esme. Rosa’s was an invite to go shopping the next day. Esme’s said:

Come over Thurs? No tigers! Ex