‘Fine. Yes, if you want to.’
‘You’d better go. You don’t want to be late for your train.’ She almost turned me around and packed me off.
Thanks to her consideration, I caught the train before the one I had planned and had a lovely chat with Bryan, who was also running late, and consequently was only a little later than usual to work. The morning had gone so smoothly that it never occurred to me something wasn’t right.
Alarm bells began to ring when I received an automated text from the school advising me that my child was absent and I should ring to explain the absence. I’d had one before and it had been an error. Ava’s teacher hadn’t marked her in. Since I was about to go into a meeting, I very nearly ignored it, knowing that I’d dropped off both girls myself but some sixth sense made me stop.
‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ I said to Dave. ‘I just need to make a quick call.’
‘Hi, it’s Claire Harrison. I had a text saying one of the girls is absent,’ I said, as soon as the call connected.
‘Yes, Miss Harrison. Thanks for calling. We just need to know why Poppy isn’t in school.’
‘But she is. I dropped her off myself.’
The lady on the other end of the line tutted. ‘Well, she’s been marked absent in the register. I’ll just send someone down to let the teacher know and change the register.’
I could hear muffled voices, as if she’d put her hand over the receiver, despite which I heard her asking one of her colleagues to go down to Mrs Philips’s class and see if Poppy Harrison was present. I tapped my fingers on the table, a little irritated. Kind as she was, I felt like she was fussing. I knew Poppy was there because I’d taken her.
Then she came back to me. ‘I’m sure it’s just an error but we always check. Do you want to hang on a minute until Mrs Turner gets back?’
I waited, giving a thumbs up to Dave who’d popped his head out of the meeting room mouthing, ‘Do you want coffee?’
‘Erm, Miss Harrison,’ the school secretary’s voice sounded strained, ‘can I call you back?’
I sat up, jolted into alertness by the unexpected words. ‘Why? What’s happened? Where’s Poppy?’
‘She’s not in class but some of them have gone to the church… and we’re just checking as she might be with that group. We’re just trying to get hold of the TA who’s with them.’
‘But she must be there. I dropped her…’ Poppy’s face, as she helpfully pushed me away, popped into my head along with the careful calculation in her eyes.
‘I dropped her and Ava at the gate. I had a dog with me. They walked up the path together. Ava’s there, isn’t she?’
‘I’ll… I’ll just check. Do you want to stay on the line?’ She put me on hold and I put my phone down, staring at it.
Poppy had to be at school. Where else would she be?
Finally, a new voice spoke down the phone. ‘Hello, Miss Harrison? This is Mrs Cummings, the headteacher; we met on Tuesday. I’m sorry about this but the teacher hasn’t seen Poppy today. She’s not in class or on the trip.’
‘Well, where is she then? She must be somewhere in the school? Have you checked everywhere?’ But where else would Poppy be? She was a conformist sort of child, not the kind that would run away or hide in school. ‘She must be there.’ She had to be because if she wasn’t… where was she? I stopped and leaned over the table, my forehead touching the surface.
Calm down, Claire. She’ll be there.
‘Poppy must be there. I saw her walk into the grounds of the school.’
‘Is there any chance she might have gone home? Does she have her own key? Sometimes children who are unsettled… have you told her about her mum yet?’
‘No, not yet. And she doesn’t have a key.’
‘Are you at home?’
‘No, I’m at work.’
‘Do you have a friend or neighbour who could go there and check, to see if she is there. Oh… hold on a minute.’
More muffled talking.
Please let them have made a mistake. Please let them have found her.
‘It turns out that one of the girls in her class did see her in the playground this morning but hasn’t seen her since. We’re going to conduct a thorough search of the school and check our CCTV footage. In the meantime, perhaps you could get someone to check on the house?’
I nodded numbly, before realising she couldn’t see me. ‘Yes. Erm… I’ll do that straight away.’ But what if she wasn’t there and she wasn’t in school? What then? What did I do?
‘I’m afraid if she’s not there, we’ll have to call the police.’
This can’t be happening.
Where is she?
Hi Sweetie. Please text me. Let me know you’re safe. Love you xxxxxxxxx
What else could I say? But if she texted back I could go from there.
I stared at the screen, willing to see the dots to indicate that Poppy was typing.
Please Poppy. Let me know you’re okay.
Nothing.
With shaking fingers, I called Hilda and explained the situation.
‘Can you go to the house? The school says Poppy isn’t there. They’re searching the building but just in case she went home…’
‘Don’t worry. She’s a sensible girl.’
‘But why isn’t she there? And where would she go?’ My voice squeaked and Karen, who was walking past, stopped in the doorway with a quizzical frown. ‘It’s not like she has any… Actually, Hilda, when you’re in the house, can you check in her bedroom? In the top drawer beside her bed, there’s a little beaded purse covered in ladybirds. Can you see if it’s there?’
Poppy had always been good with money. She was a regular little hoarder of her pocket money and birthday money.
‘I’ll call you as soon as I’ve checked the house. But don’t go borrowing trouble.’ I tucked my phone in my pocket, praying that Poppy would be at home.
‘Everything all right?’ asked Karen.
I stared up at her, the enormity of it sinking in. ‘No. One of my nieces has gone missing.’
I snatched up my mobile fifteen minutes later, most of which had been spent pacing and feeling sick while Karen kept offering me coffee and glasses of water. ‘Hilda? Is she there?’
‘Sorry, Claire, she isn’t and’—Hilda’s voice dropped—‘the purse is missing.’
‘Oh God.’ I clutched my head with my other hand. ‘Where could she have gone?’ It just wasn’t like Poppy. She wasn’t a street-savvy kid. She didn’t catch buses to places. She wasn’t one of those kids who hankered to go into the city. She was a homebird, happy with her books and her own space. Where would she have gone? The library. The park. Those were the only places she went to on her own. It wasn’t as if she was used to using public transport. You could walk everywhere in Churchstone.
‘Have you let Ash know?’
‘No.’ Even to myself I sounded defensive.
‘I think you should.’ Her calm, even tone made me answer with less belligerence.