“Washing machine,” she laughed. “Put me on a spin cycle, Dad.”
His arms ached and they both knew she was too old for this, but for the next few minutes they didn’t care.
After Mitchell had let her go, Poppy reached up onto the side of the pool and pulled two yellow floats into the water. “You’ve got to swim with your feet together, like a mermaid,” she told him.
Mitchell was about to protest, but she had already kicked off from the side and all he could do was follow her. “I’m a dolphin instead,” he called after her, and an elderly woman nearby gave him a strange look. “Watch out.”
After they’d got out of the pool and dried off, Mitchell met Poppy beside the dispensing machine in the café. She hadn’t dried her hair properly so water created a dark bib around the neck of her T-shirt.
He remembered how she used to love putting money into the slot and watching the crisps and chocolate bars jiggle along until they dropped down into the drawer below. They hadn’t done it since Anita died.
“Do you want to share a bag of crisps?” he asked.
Poppy studied the contents of the machine. “Salt and vinegar crisps make me cough,” she said.
“I like ready salted best.”
“Boring,” she sang.
“They’re a classic, like me.” He produced a pound coin. “How about we compromise, with a big bag of cheese and onion?”
She lifted her chin and quoted at him. “It’s not a compromise. It’s adapting to each other’s needs.” She took his money.
Mitchell wondered where these words had come from, because they sounded too grown-up. But then she flipped to being a child again, excitedly peering into the machine as the crisp packet juddered toward her.
They bought hot chocolate from another machine, in plastic cups too hot to hold. The murky brown liquid burned their tongues.
When the phone vibrated in Mitchell’s pocket, he ignored it, wanting to focus on the time with his daughter.
It was only when they arrived back at the apartment that he picked up the message.
I’ve spoken to Yvette, Liza informed him.
Her words were too short, for her, and he replied immediately. Do you know where she is?
Yes x.
Mitchell felt a wave of relief hit him so hard he felt he might topple over. Liza hadn’t offered up any further information and he didn’t want to pry, so he simply asked, Do you need me?
Her reply took ten minutes to come through. Yes, she said. I think I do.
Just tell me where and when, he replied.
* * *
He met Liza in the Dala café an hour later.
Poppy had insisted she was okay to remain in the apartment on her own for half an hour. She was going to make toast and listen to music. “I’m nine years old, Dad.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Not a kid.”
He told her to call him if she needed anything at all and he left to meet Liza.
When Mitchell saw Liza nursing a coffee cup to her chest, she looked like a smaller version of herself. He bought a soda and sat down next to her.
“Are you okay?” he asked, unsure.
She nodded. “I just feel dazed. I can’t believe I’m sitting here and my sister has been missing for all this time, and now I’ve just spoken to her on the phone, and it’s like all this hasn’t really happened at all. I feel as if I’ve got off a roller coaster and I’m all unsteady and can’t even walk straight. It was so amazing to hear her voice,” she said breathlessly. “But she didn’t sound like herself.”
“She’s been gone a long time. It must be very strange.”
“I know—I’m going to see her this evening. We can talk, and I can hug her and find out what the hell has gone on.” Her lips trembled and then she was crying, her shoulders jerking and tears flooding her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she tried to wipe them away. “It’s all the relief and worry and stress coming out of me.”
He shot out his arm and pulled her close to him, feeling her wet face against his shoulder.
“This is so embarrassing.”
“It’s not. This is a huge thing that you’ve found her.”
She let her emotions flow. Each time she tried to say she was fine, her chin shook and the tears came again. “Sorry,” she kept saying.
“It’s okay,” he repeated. “It’s okay.”
He wished that he had been able to let himself go like this, allow his grief to flood out of him after Anita died, so it had somewhere to go rather than churning inside him. He sometimes imagined it as a sponge in his stomach, all squeezed up in a tight ball, trying to avoid the day it might expand.
She peered up at him and patted her nose with a paper napkin. “I’m so glad I met you, Mitchell. You’ve been amazing.”
Her words made him swoon and he took a moment to enjoy the feeling. He’d tried so hard with Poppy for the last three years, never sure he was achieving the best for her. And now he’d felt like he’d got an A star in a school report from Liza. “I’m glad I met you, too,” he said.
They smiled shyly at each other.
Liza took a few moments to compose herself. She sipped her cold coffee and smoothed a hand over her hair. “I’ll need to put my makeup back on before I meet Yvette, or else she won’t recognize me. I just wanted to see you first. It’s like you’re a defibrillator or something, giving me a shot of energy.”
“You, too,” he admitted.
They held hands under the table and it felt right.
After a few seconds, Liza glanced at the watch on her other wrist. “I should go.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
She shook her head and stood up. “This is something we need to do as a family. Me, Naomi, Yvette and Mum. The Bradfields together.”
He understood. “Okay, just let me know what I can do to help.”
“Will do.”
He walked with her to the door of the café. “I’m going that way,” she said, pointing in the opposite direction to Angel House. “Wish me luck.”
He watched her weave around people on the pavement, the purple highlights in her hair gleaming, and then she was gone. And Mitchell felt a slug of unease about what Yvette’s story really was, and why she had hidden from her family for so long.
* * *
Later that evening, after he and Poppy had looked out of her bedroom window and she was settled in bed, he received a text from Liza.