I was shaking as I stood over the bathroom sink. It had been hours since I’d last washed my hands. I’d lost track of things and not kept on top of keeping clean, and now I was in danger of becoming ill. And if I became ill, then who knew what that could lead to? I washed my hands over and over and over until my eyes streamed from the pain. I went to my room and was going to put a pair of latex gloves on, but I had to save them.
“Someone’s got him, Lion,” I said to the wallpaper. “Someone has taken him. I’m sure of it.”
The Wallpaper Lion looked back at me sadly.
“I need to be alert. I need to keep an eye on things, see if I can spot any clues. You need someone like me, watching things. I was the last one to see him! If I hadn’t seen him, they wouldn’t have known he was in the front yard at all, would they?”
I began a new page in my notebook.
Teddy’s Disappearance—The Facts
Mr. Charles wasn’t coping very well with his grandchildren and now seems more worried about his fish.
Casey pushed Teddy in the pond and showed no signs of wanting to help him until Mr. Charles appeared.
Old Nina? Could she be involved?
Jake Bishop? Would he be capable of hurting him? Maybe hiding him for the attention?
Melody Bird. An unlikely suspect, but she does go to the graveyard A LOT. Would she know of some place to hide him over there?
The first search party returned at 7:18 p.m. They hung around in the middle of the street for a while, not quite sure what to do next. The police were still going in and out of Mr. Charles’s house. Gordon turned toward home, fanning his scarlet face with his wide-brimmed hat as he went. Jake opened the door of number five, swigging from a can of Coke as Sue walked up to him and grabbed him in an awkward bear hug. He looked up at me over her shoulder and glared. Claudia went back to number three and Melody opened the door, Frankie yapping at their feet as they hugged as well. Mum turned to our house and looked up at the window. I held up my hand and gave a pathetic wave as she smiled weakly.
I stood at the top of the stairs as she came in.
“How did it go? Did you find anything?”
Mum shook her head and then rubbed at the back of her neck with her hand. She looked tired.
“I can’t believe this is happening. That poor family. Is your dad still out?”
I nodded. Dad had come home from work to find the police everywhere. He’d thrown his tie and briefcase into the hallway and rushed out to join another search team along with Jake’s brother, Leo, recently home from work, and Mr. Jenkins, who must have returned from his run when I wasn’t watching. He didn’t call up to let me know he was going like Mum had. I actually thought he’d forgotten I was there at all.
Mum leaned her head against the front door and closed her eyes.
“You know what I need right now, Matthew? I need a nice, big hug from my lovely, lovely son.”
Her eyes remained closed as she took a deep breath. I stayed still at the top of the stairs as I watched her. In her mind she was probably willing me to walk down the stairs, to take her hand as I rested my head in the little dip between her shoulder and collarbone. She’d then envelope me with her kind, strong arms as we stood there breathing in and out in time with each other.
Her eyes flickered open and they glistened as she looked up at me, sitting on the top step, frozen to the spot.
“I think I’ll put on the kettle,” she said and she made her way to the kitchen.
When I was five we used to walk to school each day with Sue and Jake. Jake would usually have some kind of makeshift weapon on him that he’d use to attack any shrub or hedge he thought could do with a good bashing, whereas I’d walk beside my mum and hold her hand.
“Matty! Matty! Let’s have a war!” he’d yell at me, thrusting a sharp stick into my chest. I turned away from him and nestled against Mum’s leg. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to play, I just wanted to stay as close to my mum for as long as I could before I went into class.
“I don’t think he wants to today, Jake,” Mum said kindly. Jake huffed and ran on and began whacking at a bush with his stick.
We carried on walking, and I put my other hand over the top of hers, covering her soft knuckles.
“Jake, why don’t you hold my hand like Matthew?” said Sue, grabbing his arm to try and stop him from hitting the bush.
Jake scowled and tugged his arm away, then studied his palm. His pink, angry skin seemed to hypnotize him, and he stopped to pick at the little white flakes.
“Don’t do that, you’ll make your eczema sore! You don’t want to make it worse, do you?”
Sue dropped behind to inspect her son’s hand as Mum and I walked on.
“Do you know what?” said Mum. “One day you’ll be a really big boy and you won’t want to hold your mummy’s hand anymore.”
I frowned up at her and she laughed.
“It’s true! Us mummies know these things.”
Swinging our arms back and forth, I giggled as we marched onward like clockwork soldiers.
“I’ll always hold your hand, Mummy,” I said after we’d slowed down. “I promise. Even when I’m twelve years old!”
Mum laughed so much that this time I saw her bright, white teeth.
“We’ll see, Matthew,” she said, smiling. “We’ll see.”
And then she squeezed my hand a little tighter.
At 7:30 p.m. a woman wearing a smart blue dress with a light gray jacket stood in front of number eleven and spoke into a microphone. A man with a large camera on his shoulder filmed her. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she kept turning toward Mr. Charles’s house and pointing and then she held up a large piece of paper, which must have been Teddy’s photograph. It was all over in ten minutes, and as soon as she’d finished the report she took off her gray jacket and fanned at her face. A police officer in a suit approached them and I thought he was going to ask them to leave, but he seemed pleased to see them and shook their hands before checking his watch. After they’d left, Officer Campen appeared carrying a roll of yellow tape. He spoke to a few passersby who were hanging around outside Gordon and Penny’s house, and they drifted off toward the end of the road.
7:43 p.m.—Still no sign of Teddy Dawson. The police are now taping off the end of Chestnut Close.
Penny Sullivan from number one was walking around the close with a tray of orange juice.
“Ice-cold orange juice?” she said to each one. “Something to cool you down, officer?”
Some of them waved her away with a nod and a smile, too busy to speak to her, and a few took a glass and drank the cold juice in one go. Penny returned to number one, probably looking through her kitchen cupboards to see what other refreshments she could rustle up.
The other search party came back at 8:17 p.m. Dad had his shirtsleeves rolled up and was carrying his suit jacket over his shoulder. Jake’s older brother, Leo, was talking on his phone, and Rory Jenkins was eating some sort of nutrition bar. He looked up at me as he crossed the road toward his house and I stared back. Eating at a time like this didn’t seem right. He brushed the crumbs from the front of his T-shirt, watching me all the time. Hannah came out to meet him and put her hands up to her husband’s face and kissed him. He threw a heavy arm around her shoulder and they walked slowly back to the house, Hannah’s huge stomach swaying from side to side. The sight of it made me feel sick, so I went to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face until I felt better.
Dad came in telling Mum they’d found nothing and that they’d shut the end of the road off so no one could come onto the close without permission. I heard them move into the kitchen to start on dinner. The door of number three opened and Melody jumped down the step and skipped across the road. I groaned. She was heading straight toward us.
“Hello, Melody, love,” Mum said quietly when she opened the door. “Go on up, I’m sure Matthew would like some company right now.”
I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t like any company right now.
“Hi, Matty!” Melody said as if it was just another day and nothing had happened, like a small child going missing. She came into the office and looked around, staring at the elephant mobile.
“Oh wow. Is your Mum having another baby?”
She spun the mobile with her finger and the elephants hurtled around and around.
“No. Look, can you not do that, please?”
The elephants spun faster and faster until two of them became tangled up and she stopped.
“So what’s with all this stuff then?” she said as she poked about in the bags under the mobile. On one of the boxes was a photograph of a chubby, blond baby boy, a toothless smile on his face as he sat happily in a brilliant white diaper.
“It was for my brother. He died. Look, can you not touch anything, please?”
Melody stood up.
“Died? What do you mean he died?”
“He died, okay? What do you want, Melody?”
I stood with my arms folded. I wondered what she’d do if she knew he was dead because of me. I could tell her—just like that. It was all my fault, Melody. Now will you go away and stop bothering me?
She sat on the edge of the desk.
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know.” Her face looked sad. “That must be hard for you.”
I nodded. In my head I was making a mental note of everything I now needed to clean after she’d gone:
Edge of the door, doorframe—whole door?
Elephant mobile—how can I clean that?!
Desk. Clear everything off and blast with antibacterial spray.
“Did you see the newspeople here earlier? My mum thinks he’s just wandered off somewhere. Do you? Or do you think someone has taken him?”
I shrugged. “I would have thought if he’d wandered off he would have been found by now,” I said.
She picked up my notebook, which was next to her on the desk.
“Oh wow, this is brilliant!” she said as she read. “You’ve got everything in here! You should show this to the police! 5:23 p.m. Mr. Charles is mowing his lawn again. It’s the fifth time this week.”
She giggled as she turned a few more pages. I stepped across the room.
“Can you give that back to me? It’s private.”
“10:02 a.m. Old Nina is watering her pots.”
Turning to the last page, she read what I’d written in silence and then glanced up at me; her face looked horrified. Looking down again, she read aloud:
“Melody Bird. An unlikely suspect, but she does go to the graveyard A LOT. Would she know of some place to hide him over there?”
I jiggled around in front of her, wanting to snatch the book back but not quite finding the courage to do it.
“Matthew? Do you think I took Teddy?”
She had tears in her eyes.
“I … I … No, of course not.”
I quickly grabbed the book from her, forgetting I wasn’t wearing any gloves. Her mouth hung open.
“It’s nothing, Melody! I was just bored, writing some stuff down. It’s not important.”
“But … but I don’t understand. Why would you think I did it?”
“I don’t know! I just wondered why you go to the graveyard so much. That’s all. I just thought there may be something over there you were hiding. It doesn’t matter, I was just writing anything down.”
I dropped the notebook onto the desk. Melody put her hands on her hips as she came toward me.
“I didn’t take Teddy Dawson and I can’t believe you’d say such a thing. I thought we were friends?”
I pressed myself against the windowsill.
“That’s the first I’ve heard about it,” I said.
Melody gasped, and then she spun around and ran down the stairs.