The Girl Who Never Came Back (4 page)

Looking out the window, Tony seemed distracted for a moment.

"Uh-oh," he said eventually, his face filled with weary concern, "looks like she's really on the warpath about something."

"What's wrong this time?" Charlotte asked, watching as Ruth hurried across the lawn, making straight for the house. There was something faintly comic about the way Ruth always strutted around when she was angry, and she had a well-worn look of righteous indignation on her face, the same look that usually prompted Charlotte to burst out laughing. Today, however, something was holding back the laughter, and Charlotte felt instead as if maybe there was reason to be concerned after all. Something just felt wrong.

"Hang on," Tony said with weary resignation, removing his apron and hurrying to the back door. "Let's see what fire needs fighting this time."

"I can't find her!" Ruth said, clearly alarmed as she reached the house. "It's Sophie! I can't find her anywhere!"

"She's playing by the river," Charlotte replied matter-of-factly, trying as much to convince herself as to calm her sister.

"I've just
been
down there," Ruth said, filled with panic as she hurried through the door and grabbed Tony's arm. "Come on, we have to find her. There's no sign of her anywhere, and you know how I feel when she wanders off."

"I'm sure she's just having a bit of fun," Tony replied, glancing back at Charlotte with a worried look in his eyes. "Come on, we'll go and see what she's doing. She probably just got distracted by something. I'm pretty sure there's a family of stoats down by the oak trees. It wouldn't surprise me if Sophie's down there right now, tormenting the poor things."

"She knows not to go out of sight," Ruth continued, leading Tony across the grass. "How many times have I drilled it into her? She
knows
the rules. Is she doing this deliberately? I swear to God, sometimes I think she wants to give me a heart attack!" She kept talking, her words running breathlessly into one another, as she and Tony got further and further from the house. Eventually they were out of Charlotte's earshot, although Ruth's mouth could still be seen running at a thousand miles an hour, peppering her husband with fears and concerns.

Charlotte paused for a moment, feeling the faintest whisper of recognition cross her mind before she turned to see her mother pouring another glass of sherry. "Deja vu?" she said after a moment, trying to smile but unable to feel completely comfortable suddenly, as if some unseen weight had landed on her shoulders. Was this what it had been like, she wondered, when she'd disappeared all those years ago? "Hey, Mum?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder. "Deja vu all over again?"

"What's that?" her mother asked testily.

"Is this how it was with me?" Charlotte asked.

"How what was?"

"Never mind," Charlotte replied with a sigh, before wandering over to the door. Staring out at the garden, she saw Ruth and Tony down by the river, calling for Sophie. Although she wanted to laugh the whole thing off and assume that the girl was just playing hide-and-seek, Charlotte couldn't ignore the sliver of doubt in her heart, or the voice in the back of her mind that was taunting her over and over again with the possibility that somehow, impossibly, it was all happening again. Exactly as it had happened twenty years ago.

Twenty years ago

By the time morning came, Charlotte was woken by the same stomach cramps that she'd felt the day before. The pain wasn't enough to cause her to cry out, but it put a frown on her face and left her curled up on her side, with one hand resting on her belly while she waited for the sensation to pass.

She could hear her mother pottering about in the kitchen downstairs, and a few minutes later she heard her sister running excitedly past the bedroom door. The smell of breakfast was wafting up the stairs, but Charlotte stayed exactly where she was. With the dull, dark pain still floating in her stomach, she didn't feel like eating, and she wasn't even sure if she
was
allowed to go downstairs. In a way, it felt as if Ruth and her mother had formed a little gang, deliberately excluding Charlotte because of her insubordination. As if to prove the point, Charlotte soon heard their muffled voices from the room below, talking happily to one another.

Finally, Charlotte decided she had no choice but to get out of bed. She sat up, which made the pain feel a little worse for a moment before seemingly clearing whatever knot was causing the problem. She took a deep breath, still able to feel the pain's echo, but at least it seemed to be slowly passing. As she shifted toward the edge of the bed, however, she felt something wet against her leg. Moving to one side, she looked down, fearing that she might have soiled herself, but instead she saw a few small spots of blood. After staring at the red stain for a moment, she glanced over at her discarded clothes from the night before, and to her horror she saw that there was some old, dried blood in her underwear. With her heart racing, she realized that the blood could only mean one thing.

***

"It happens to every woman eventually," her mother said half an hour later, as they sat alone at the kitchen table. "It's just happening to you a little earlier than most."

Charlotte shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her sister Ruth had been banished to play in the garden, somewhat against her will, and this gave Charlotte a mild degree of satisfaction. Ruth was older, and yet it seemed that her mother had sought to exclude her from this particular conversation. Still, the things her mother was saying made no sense to Charlotte; it seemed completely fantastical that her body might not only have decided to shed part of itself, but also that it might be planning to do the same thing every month from now on.

"It's a good thing," her mother continued with a faint smile. "The discomfort is a part of the process. For some women it can be quite debilitating, for others it's little more than an annoyance. You'll have to wait and see how it goes with you, but if it's any consolation, none of the women in your family have a history of difficult periods." She paused, as if she wasn't sure what to say. "Do you have any questions, Charlotte? Don't be shy. Just tell me what you're thinking about, and I'll try to answer as truthfully and helpfully as possible."

Charlotte paused. "But are you
sure
I'm not dying?" she asked eventually.

"One hundred per cent certain."

"But blood means something's dying," Charlotte continued.

"Or living," her mother pointed out. "Blood means life as well."

Charlotte frowned. "Does Ruth have this?"

"Not yet," her mother replied, "but she will, one day soon. She's older than you, so one would have thought that she'd be affected first, but there's really no strict order to these things. It's quite unusual for it to strike a girl as young as eight, although there are exceptional cases."

"So it might
not
be what you say it is?" Charlotte asked, as she felt a twist of pain pass briefly through her belly once again. "You might be wrong?"

"I'm not wrong."

"But you -"

"I'm not wrong," her mother said again, more firmly this time. "Charlotte, there's no reason to be scared about growing up." She paused. "Is this what your behavior has been about recently? Have you been feeling yourself growing up, and it's been scaring you? If that's the problem, you really have nothing to worry about. You're starting to become a woman, and that means you're at the start of a wonderful adventure that's going to take you to lots of great places. It also means that you have to be careful with your decisions, but you're going to reach the point soon where those decisions start to define not only how your day turns out, but how your life develops." She paused again. "Do you understand, Charlotte?"

Charlotte stared at her mother, wondering why she was lying. For Charlotte, all this talk of biological changes and physical maturity and becoming a woman... it was all rubbish, and she felt that her mother was insulting her intelligence. No, the blood in the bed and in her underwear could only mean one thing: her adventurous half had died, had curled up inside her and passed away, and those spots of blood were the only visible traces of this tragedy that had taken place inside her body. Still, she couldn't help clinging to the hope that maybe her adventurous half wasn't dead, but merely wounded, in which case it could potentially be revived if Charlotte could think of something that might help.

Turning to look out the window, she thought of something. She smiled.

"So we'll look into a few other things we need to do for you," her mother said eventually, "and I'll show you how to use certain products that a woman must get to grips with. I hope, also, that you might stop talking about various infantile matters that have been consuming your time lately. All this talk of witches down at the bottom of the garden or living in a cave, Charlotte... It's childish nonsense, and it has to end. People are going to laugh at you and question your intelligence if you persist with such rubbish." She waited for a reply. "Charlotte?"

Slowly, filled with a great plan but aware that she had to keep it to herself, Charlotte turned to face her mother.

"Will you abandon all these childish thoughts about witches and suchlike?" her mother continued. "Will you try to be more grown up, now that your body has shown that it's starting to mature?"

Charlotte nodded.

"Thank you," her mother said with a smile. "You know, in a strange way, this has all happened at a very opportune moment. If you can approach the changes with intelligence, I think the whole thing could be the making of you."

Charlotte smiled. She was lying, of course, but she also knew that grown-ups tended to lie. A lot. Therefore, she was 'growing up' by lying, which meant keeping her thoughts and activities a secret from her mother. If other people wanted to believe strange stories about girls' bodies shedding linings from inside, Charlotte felt that this was entirely up to them and she had no interest in proving them wrong. She, however, was going to focus on her own beliefs, which she felt made far more sense. Besides, she knew her body better than anyone else. It was fine and dandy for her mother to suddenly start making a bunch of absurd claims, but Charlotte felt that it couldn't be a coincidence that the blood had arrive the morning after she'd felt her adventurous half disappear.

"Ruth will have a lot of questions," her mother added. "If it gets too much, tell her to come and ask me, okay?"

Charlotte nodded.

"Maybe you'd like to go outside and play now?"

Getting up from the chair, Charlotte walked carefully over to the back door. She wanted to run, but she knew she had to be more careful and at least pretend that she'd listened to her mother's words. As she reached the door and pulled it open, she glanced back at her mother and saw that she seemed satisfied and confident, as if she felt that she'd 'fixed' her troublesome wayward daughter. Charlotte hated letting her think that she'd won, but she figured that this was only a battle, and that the more important thing was to focus on the overall war. Confident that she'd be proved right eventually, Charlotte headed outside into the bright sunny day. As she spotted Ruth playing in the grass, she suddenly felt as if she'd somehow overtaken her sister. She'd go and join in the game for a while, of course, but her participation would be a charade to cover up her true plans.

In this way, at least, Charlotte felt that maybe she
had
become a little more grown-up after all.

Today

"Sophie!" Ruth shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth as she stood on the riverbank. "Sophie! Where are you?"

As she caught up to her sister and brother-in-law, Charlotte felt a pang of fear in her chest. She kept trying to tell herself not to be scared, that everything would be okay, but deep down there was a long-dormant kernel of panic starting to sprout again. It seemed utterly impossible that Sophie could have come to any harm, especially down here by the river of all places, but every time she reassured her sister that things would be okay, Charlotte heard a nagging voice at the back of her head that told her maybe she was wrong.

"Jesus Christ," Ruth said as she hurried along the path, "where the hell is she?"

"I'm sure she's around here somewhere," Tony said, clearly forcing himself to stay calm even though his eyes betrayed the same doubts and fears that Charlotte was feeling. "She's a sensible girl, Ruth -"

"It's not about being sensible," Ruth replied firmly, "it's about being safe!" She hurried a little further along the riverbank, before stopping again and pausing, as if she was waiting for a hint of movement. "Sophie!" she shouted at the top of her voice. "It's Mummy! I need you to come back immediately!"

"You're not in any trouble!" Tony shouted, hurrying after his wife. "We just want to make sure you're okay!"

Walking after them, Charlotte couldn't help but keep glancing down at the river, as if she expected to see a limp little body go floating past. Something deep inside was already telling her that there was a problem, and she knew that Sophie was at heart a very timid and smart girl who'd never disappear like this on purpose. There was just no way that the events of twenty years ago could be playing out all over again. No family could be so unlucky.

"She's only been gone for a few minutes," Tony said, putting a hand on Ruth's shoulder. "Let's not panic just yet, eh?"

"And when do you think we
should
panic?" Ruth asked. "After six minutes? Seven? An hour? A day?" She glanced back at Charlotte. "A year?"

"Don't overreact," Charlotte muttered, although she immediately knew that she'd chosen the wrong words.

"Don't overreact?" Ruth replied, her voice filled with scorn. "Is that the best advice you can offer right now?"

"Fine," Charlotte said. "Overreact. Go for it!"

Ruth stared at her for a moment, unable to disguise her anger, before turning and continuing her way along the riverbank, pulling free of Tony in the process. She was clearly getting worked up into a tighter and tighter ball of energy, and it was only a matter of time before she'd explode. Charlotte knew her sister too well, and she knew that even without any cause, Ruth was capable of causing a real scene; with Sophie missing, it was clear that there'd be no limits to the woman's anger.

"She's just worried," Tony said.

Charlotte nodded.

"She thinks -"

"I know what she thinks," Charlotte replied.

"It's just that -"

"I know!" Charlotte insisted, keen to avoid talking about the specifics. "I know exactly what she's thinking. You don't need to tell me. I'm thinking it too. I'm sure we're all thinking it."

"It's nonsense, of course," Tony continued, "but Sophie's eight, the same age as you when -"

"I know!" Charlotte said firmly, before realizing that she was letting her concern show. "Come on, it can't be happening again. That's a ludicrous idea! She's going to come running out of some bush somewhere any moment, probably covered in mud, with some crazy story about where she's been, and then... and then Ruth'll blow a gasket and act like something awful's happened, and then there'll be lots of drama and things'll start to settle down." She paused, hoping to God that she was right. "Sophie's fine," she added.

"Of course she is," Tony said unconvincingly. "She's a smart girl."

"Exactly," Charlotte replied. "I mean, when I went missing, I was dumb. Really fucking dumb. Believe me, even for an eight-year-old, I was pretty bone-headed. Sophie's not like that. The kid's smart and she knows what she's doing. She can look after herself."

"Sophie!" Ruth shouted up ahead, sounding increasingly desperate. "Sophie, where are you?"

"She must be able to hear us," Tony muttered. "You're right, she's smart, and she's not deaf either. She must be doing this on purpose. She could have -" He stopped suddenly. "Oh fuck," he said after a moment. "Please, Ruth, don't take this too far."

It was too late. Up ahead, Ruth had finally reached the entrance to the cave. Back when she and Charlotte were children, the cave was a forbidden place, and they were told over and over again by their parents to never, ever go into the darkness. Of course, while Ruth had been obedient and well-behaved, Charlotte had to eventually rebel against such strict instructions, and when she was exactly Sophie's age, she went blundering in there. The shadow of that afternoon's misadventure had been hanging over the family ever since, and now Ruth was standing at the entrance, staring into the darkness.

"She's not in there!" Tony said as he caught up to her. "Ruth, there's no way she'd be in there!"

"How do you know?" she asked, her voice thick with tension.

"Why the hell would she do something so stupid?" he continued. "We've told her over and over not to go in there."

"So?" Ruth replied, still staring into the cave. "Maybe she decided to go in anyway, just to spite us."

"Look," Tony pointed out, "the grass around the entrance hasn't been disturbed or tramped down. There's no way she's been this way. She's probably back up at the house by now, wondering where we all are."

"You don't know that," Ruth said. "What if..." Pausing for a moment, she finally turned to look back at Charlotte. "What if she's done the same thing you did all those years ago?"

"There's no way," Charlotte replied. "Don't be fucking stupid, Ruth. You're -"

"Don't tell me I'm overreacting!" Ruth shouted back at her. "You don't have children, Charlotte, so you don't know what it's like! You don't have a clue! You're barren, remember? You probably don't even have the capability to understand how a mother feels about her child!"

Charlotte held her hands up in mock surrender. "I'm sure she's fine," she said, trying to make herself believe her own empty rhetoric, and ignoring the desire to punch her sister's lights out. "Whatever she's doing -"

"You were egging her on," Ruth continued, warming to her theme. "Back there in the garden, you were filling her mind with all sorts of nonsense, about monsters in the basement and horrible, deformed mutant children, and now look where it's got us! You've got her thinking about that kind of thing -"

"You mean she's actually got a mind of her own," Charlotte snapped back at her, annoyed that once again she was being blamed for the family's problems.

"Calm down," Tony said quietly. "Charlotte's just trying to help -"

"No!" Ruth said firmly, pushing her husband away as she approached her sister. "You need to hear this, Charlotte. You filled my daughter's head with all sorts of rubbish, and now she's run off somewhere! She could be hurt! She could be dying!" As her eyes filled with tears, Ruth waited for an answer. "She's eight years old, Charlotte! Eight! She's exactly the same age that you were when you disappeared!"

"She hasn't disappeared," Charlotte replied, stunned by the force of Ruth's anger. "She's just... gone... somewhere. It's perfectly normal for a little girl to want to -"

"How would you know what's normal?" Ruth spit back at her, before turning and picking her way through the long grass that led into the cave.

"Hold on!" Tony called, hurrying after her. "Ruth, you can't go in there! Sophie hasn't been this way! You're panicking over nothing!" He waited for Ruth to reply, but she was forcing her way forward. "Ruth, seriously," he continued, "you're not thinking straight! Why would Sophie go in there?"

"I'll go back to the house!" Charlotte shouted after them, figuring that there was nothing more for her to be doing down by the river. "I'll see if she's there, and then I'll go and take a look at some of the fields!" She waited for a reply, but her sister and brother-in-law were still bickering as they disappeared into the shadows of the cave. "Fine!" Charlotte shouted. "You two go stumbling around in the dark, and I'll go and actually do something useful that might help us find your daughter!" She waited for a reply. "Great," she muttered, turning and heading back along the riverbank, "at least we all know where we stand!"

She made her way slowly back to the house, constantly turning and looking over her shoulder in case there was any sign of Sophie. Trying to ignore the voice of doubt in the pit of her stomach, she kept insisting to herself that Sophie had merely wandered off, and that there was no way history could repeat itself, not in such a specific and cruel fashion. Nevertheless, with every second that passed, she became more and more worried, until finally she reached the house and breathlessly entered the kitchen, only to find her mother passed out at the table with one outstretched hand resting next to the half-empty bottle of sherry.

"Sophie!" Charlotte shouted, hurrying through to the hallway and calling up the stairs. "Sophie, are you here?"

Silence.

"Sophie!" She waited again, but this time she knew there wasn't going to be a reply. That voice in the back of her mind, insisting that something was wrong, was getting louder and louder, drowning out all of Charlotte's other thoughts. She tried to think of all the places Sophie could be, all the places she could have hidden or fallen, until finally she began to contemplate the one possibility that she'd been trying desperately to ignore: the possibility that somehow, Sophie had ended up in the same place where Charlotte had ended up all those years ago. With trembling hands, she fumbled in her pocket for her cigarettes and lighter.

"This isn't happening," she whispered. "Not again. The world is not this fucking cruel."