46. Sarah
46. Sarah
I hate being back in Wales. Everything reminds me of Danny. In the taxi on my way back from the station after Jenni and Cherub’s wedding we drove past our old school, his rugby club, the pub, the park, the shops, his house.
I scanned the shadows of each and every one of them, nervously looking for signs of him. It’s irrational, I know. Mum assured me that he was staying at home, that Annie’s brothers had moved back in with her to take care of him. But still, I can’t face the thought of running into him.
It doesn’t help that Mum has to work to make up for all the time she took off while I was in the hospital, so I’m alone in the house for most of the day.
‘I’ll be fine,’ I reassured her. ‘I’ll keep myself busy.’ The minute she left the house I double-locked the door.
For the last two days I’ve done nothing but lie on the sofa and watch back-to-back Christmas movies, but today I’m looking forward to wrapping all the presents I ordered online.
For once, I’ve spent some of Dad’s money. I rang him when I got back to talk about my plan with Carl to track down Habiba. He was so helpful and kind, promised to do everything he could.
When I offered to use the money he’s sent me over the years, I could tell he was hurt that I’d never once spent any of it on myself.
‘But that money was for you,’ he said. ‘It made me feel better to think that at least I could provide for you financially. That you’d have a bit of money to spend on anything you wanted.’
So I decided to take him at his word and spend some of it spoiling the people I love – the people who, in their own way, have all spoiled me.
Firstly, I ordered an enormous hamper from Fortnum I imagine it keeping him warm on his dog walks. Along with a pair of red cashmere gloves and a matching scarf that will go with his ridiculous red bobble hat – the one he pulled down over my ears to keep me warm, the day of the wedding dance rehearsal.
But the thing I’m most excited to wrap, the present I’m most excited about, is a box of decorations. Carl told me that this will be the first time he’s bought his own Christmas tree, and I wanted to find some beautiful decorations to make it special. These are exactly what I was looking for, without even knowing quite what I had in mind.
I’m about to start wrapping them when the phone rings. A thrill fizzes through me at the thought of hearing Carl’s voice. But it isn’t Carl, it’s Danny’s mum.
‘Sorry to bother you, love,’ Annie says. She sounds frightened.
‘You’re never a bother,’ I tell her. ‘What’s up?’
‘It’s Danny,’ she says. ‘He’s gone missing.’
My stomach drops like a stone. ‘I don’t understand,’ I say. ‘I thought he was with you?’
Annie starts to cry. ‘He was, but I left him with my brother while I went to the supermarket. He went to answer the front door, to sign for a package, and when he went back into the living room Danny had gone. I should never have left him – just like I should never have left you.’
‘Oh, Annie, it’s not your fault,’ I tell her.
But she starts to cry even harder. ‘It’s so cold out, Sarah, and he’s been gone for twenty-four hours. I can’t stand the thought of him being out in this weather. Can you think of anywhere he might be?’
I think of all the places where we’ve found him, drunk and passed out, over the last couple of years. A neighbour’s caravan, the rugby club changing rooms, the building site, a skip, the police station.
But none of those occasions had been in weather like this. When I went out this morning to get some milk with Mum, everything was coated in a heavy frost.
‘He’ll turn up. You know what he’s like, he’ll have found somewhere to bunk down. Any minute now, you’ll get a phone call from one of the neighbours to say they’ve seen him.’
‘But, Sarah, it’s so cold outside, no one will spot him because they’re all at home, keeping warm. What if he’s hurt or trapped?’ A sob catches in her throat.
‘Don’t worry,’ I beg. ‘I’ll head into town, do a trawl of his usual pubs.’
I sit back down at the kitchen table to lace up my boots. Out of the corner of my eye, I see them, glinting in their box: six glass Christmas tree baubles with beautiful hand-painted poppies on their sides.
Before Annie rang, I was feeling so happy. I’ve never had so many Christmas presents to wrap. So many people in my world to love, to love me, to make life feel less precarious.
And now, just like that, the feeling has gone. In its place is an ominous sense of foreboding.