Julia threw her backpack onto the kitchen table, flicked the switch on the kettle and placed a cup on the worktop. Her daughter was still out there somewhere, mixed up in who knows what and here she was, making a cup of tea. She grabbed the cup and screamed as she threw it at the patio doors, making a slight chink in the glass. With white knuckles, she gripped the spoon and allowed her pent up tears to fall down her cheeks. If Christina’s friend had said something sooner, she might have found her daughter. After this long, the trail was weak and she could be anywhere. And who was the lad she’d taken off with? The girl had told her all about Christina’s crush on a boy at school. If only that boy had accepted her proposition of a date rather than humiliated her in front of everyone, telling the whole school that Christina was a mini stalker because she swooned over him when he walked by. Isn’t that what a lot of teenagers do? Swoon over boys and girls they liked.

Their conversation had been useful. She was looking for someone called Westley, no surname as yet. Apparently, he was known for hanging around by the river in Worcester, exactly where she’d hung the posters up. Christina must have been hanging around there with him and not one person had called with information, not one person had anything whatsoever to say. She opened the fridge and grabbed a half-opened bottle of wine and poured a glass. Coffee wasn’t going to cut it today.

Christina had only spoken about him to her friend once or twice, saying that she’d met him in Worcester and that he was good fun to be around. A bit older, she’d said. What was a bit? Was he seventeen or was he in his twenties? She had said Christina mentioned that he wanted to try living in Birmingham at some point, thought there might be some work for him. Had he groomed her little girl and taken her to Birmingham? Or had they run away together? Christina certainly had a wild and rebellious streak but she was so naïve in many ways, always thinking she knew it all.

The police needed to know. She ran away, yes, but had she gone off with someone dangerous and was she still with him? Maybe they’d received reports about someone called Westley in Worcester or even Birmingham. It might provide a link at least. Her mind conjured up images, from homeless young people sitting in the doorways of Birmingham Centre shops to sleazy houses offering massages, where runaway kids were being pimped out.

‘Roy,’ she said as she turned. ‘I didn’t hear you come home. You’re meant to be at work.’

He took the wine from her hand and poured it down the sink. ‘This has to stop. I know you blame me for the other day, but every weekend since she left I’ve been out there with you, haven’t I?’

‘Reluctantly.’

‘You never shut up, do you? I’m trying my best here.’

She nodded, holding back any further tears. Things were already tense between them. He’d said a lot he probably regretted and so had she. ‘Whatever.’

‘I want to help, I really do. But every weekend we replace posters that don’t need replacing. It’s not getting us anywhere. I can’t keep doing this. I get really pissed off when you throw it in my face that I’ve never had kids of my own and I can’t possibly understand. I’ve been there for you both, haven’t I? Yes, things have been difficult. Yes, she doesn’t really like me living here and threw that in my face more than once when having one of her outbursts. I’ve let all that ride because I can see it from her point of view. She has you all to herself and suddenly it’s you and me all the time. Anyway, I’m here now. So, what next? I am not going to just replace posters on lamp posts. Now what was it you wanted to tell me?’

He was right. She’d thrown so many insults at him and pushed him away. ‘This morning, you wondered where I had been.’

‘Yes?’

‘I met Christina’s friend. She told me Christina went off with someone she’d been hanging around with along the river in Worcester, someone called Westley.’

‘She what? Why didn’t that girl say something earlier? What else did she say?’

‘She wasn’t much help, she seemed really upset that she hadn’t told me earlier.’

‘No wonder. Had she said something back then, we could’ve been looking for this Westley all along.’

‘She promised Christina she wouldn’t say anything.’

‘Not good enough.’ Roy slammed his fist on the kitchen table and his face began to redden. ‘All this time she knew something and she didn’t say a word, not to us, not to the police. Did you ask the other kids about this Westley?’

Julia wiped a tear from her cheek. ‘I did, but no one had ever heard of him. What if someone has been grooming my girl and taken her? All the arguments we had, both of us… we drove her away. If she was happy, she wouldn’t have gone with him.’ Julia burst into tears and gripped Roy.

‘All the arguments were about her and it wasn’t just me moaning. The neighbours complained every five minutes, the school were always on at us. Are you really saying this is my fault?’

‘I never said that. You know I never said that.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He pulled her close to him and hugged her. ‘We will find her, I promise. We’ll call the police, tell them what you’ve found out. They may have heard of him. We’ll call the local papers, ask if anyone knows of a Westley who hangs around by the river. Here. Come on.’ He led her into the lounge and put the television on. ‘I’m going to make you a cup of tea, we’ll call the police and you can tell them what you know. If Christina’s friend does know more that she’s not telling, the police will get it out of her.’

Julia slumped into the armchair and stared blankly at the television screen as Roy went out to make a drink. A report came on the local news, something about an appeal, an unidentified girl being found in the Cleevesford area, between the age of fourteen and seventeen years old. The girl was now dead. ‘No!’ she yelled, hands shaking, heart hammering.

Roy ran in holding a teaspoon. His gaze followed hers until they were both staring at the screen. He kneeled down and hugged her closely. ‘It’s not her. It can’t be her.’

‘She’s dead. My little girl is dead,’ the woman cried as she broke down.