* * *
In the police Range Rover, Beth Alton sees press vehicles being turned back at a police cordon, but they are waved through and drive nearer to the school. There are dozens of parked emergency vehicles, police cars and vans and ambulances, fire engines too, why do they need fire engines? Overhead the sound of a helicopter, a blurry black shape in the sky. The police driver parks the Range Rover and tells her that Detective Inspector Polstein will be with her shortly. He escorts her towards a Portakabin.
The emergency vehicles have snow inches deep on their roofs and covering the windscreens; the sound of creaking as the wind pummels against them.
She sees a woman in her early thirties walking towards her, just wearing a dress, not a coat or jumper even, but strikingly upright despite the fierce wind and snow, almost marching.
‘Mrs Alton? Detective Inspector Polstein,’ the woman says, holding out her hand, having to raise her voice above the wind. ‘Rose. Let’s go inside.’
‘Have you found him?’ Beth asks, and despite no indications for this she hopes that Rose will say, Yes! And he’s fine! And you can take him home with you.
‘Not yet,’ Rose replies. ‘We’re doing everything we can.’
She opens the door of the Portakabin and ushers Beth in.
‘The police officers at the leisure centre said you haven’t managed to speak to Jamie?’
‘No.’
‘And he hasn’t texted?’
‘No.’
As Rose turns up a heater, Beth looks at the side view of her face, pale, almost ill, her slanting cheekbones, the corner of her mouth, no lipstick, and then she turns to Beth and her eyes look directly at her, and Beth wants to look away because she reads something there.
‘I heard he used to be friends with Victor Deakin?’
Here it comes; this is why they want to talk to her. She’d hoped she was being paranoid, hoped against all logic that it wasn’t because of this.
‘Yes, but then Jamie broke off their friendship.’
‘When was this?’
‘October the thirty-first.’
She thinks of devils and monsters at their door; Victor’s handsome human face.
‘After the vandalism incident in Exeter?’
‘Yes. He wouldn’t take Victor’s calls or Snapchats or anything. Mike and I told him to do that. To break from him completely. And I think Victor might want to punish him.’
The snake let out from its cage.
‘Up until the vandalism incident, was there anything that Victor did that—’
‘No. He had us completely fooled. But I should have seen what he was like, should have suspected – I was even grateful to him for being friends with Jamie.’
‘It’s not your fault nor Jamie’s that you thought Victor was genuinely who he appeared to be. Nobody saw what he was really like.’
She’s kind, Rose Polstein; but what kind of mother is grateful to someone for being friends with their child? And maybe that’s why she didn’t look harder at him, because Jamie was lonely and she was too busy being grateful to find out who this person really was. She imagines driving Victor Deakin to the top of a cliff, the car teetering over the edge, and threatening to go over unless he reveals himself.
Right, Mum, like that would’ve helped.
I know, but …
I told you before, he had me fooled too and he was my friend.
Rose Polstein’s pager vibrates and she looks at it.
‘I’m sorry, I have to go for a little while. It should warm up in here in a minute.’
When Rose has gone, Beth opens the door again and cold invades the Portakabin but she leaves it open as if she’ll hear Jamie or at least be closer to him. When he was at his last school, and so unhappy, she used to arrive early to pick him up, ridiculously early, like an hour or more, and stand by the gates to the school as if that made any difference to anyone, but she’d done it anyway.
Getting him drunk might have been easier, Mum, rather than the whole car-cliff-teeter thing.
* * *
Rose walks quickly back to the command and control vehicle, the wind slicing through her dress, the snow falling thickly on to her hair and shoulders. She’s numbed with cold by the time she gets inside. Thandie wraps her own jacket around her and she’s grateful.
Before talking to Beth Alton, she’d suggested sending another text with a direct question:
Do you have Jamie Alton with you?
Dannisha had paged her to say Victor had responded.
‘What’s he said?’ Rose asks.
Dannisha shows Rose Victor’s response.
Dannisha types:
How is Jamie?
Is he ok?
Having a fuckin blast man, a fuckin blast
What do you mean?
Need me to fuckin spell it out moron? He’s my pal my wingman
14.
11.00 a.m.
Beth Alton goes outside the Portakabin, scanning for Rose Polstein, the wind blowing snow against her face and into her eyes. She sees a blur of movement, hopes it’s Rose, but it’s three police officers, wearing black and carrying guns, moving fast towards the school. Her mobile is in her pocket, so that it doesn’t freeze or get wet and stop working; her fingers are tightly around it. The helicopter overhead beams a searchlight down and for a moment she is blinded, has to blink to see again.
She takes out her mobile and tries ringing Jamie, expecting it to go straight through to message again. But it doesn’t! It rings and rings, and she thinks he’s going to answer, that he’ll hear her special ringtone and answer! But after seven rings it goes to message.
Rose Polstein is walking towards her through the snow, with that upright marching stance. Beth hurries to meet her.
‘Jamie’s phone’s on! It just rang. Didn’t go straight to his message.’
‘Did he answer?’
‘No. But it rang several times, seven or more.’
Rose Polstein’s face is drawn like she’s suddenly very tired.
‘We think his phone was powered off or the battery was out until very recently,’ she says. ‘But now his phone’s on again and we’re tracing the location.’
Rose goes into the Portakabin. Beth follows her quickly inside.
‘So you can find him; you can get him out!’
Rose sits down on a plastic chair and gestures to Beth to sit next to her but she doesn’t want to sit down. She wants Rose to tell her how they’re going to rescue him.
‘Has Jamie been lonely?’ Rose asks.
What does that matter? For God’s sake, why are they even in a Portakabin while Jamie is out there?
‘Has he ever been violent?’ Rose Polstein asks.
‘Of course not, why—?’
‘Has he said anything to you recently that’s been out of character or strange?’
‘Why are you asking me these things?’
‘Mrs Alton, I need to know.’
A conversation with Jamie, a real one from just a fortnight ago, creeping then pushing its way in:
‘Jesus, just stop the questions.’
‘I just want to know if you’re okay at school, with friends and things, and—’