Dark Tides by Chris Ewan Page B

Secret Garden , when the doorbell buzzed. I hurried on to the landing and listened to the muffled voices below. My stomach fluttered. I thought I recognised the woman talking to Dad, but before I could lean out over the banister to make sure, he led her inside the lounge and closed the door.
    I considered bursting in after them, acting as if I didn’t know she was there. But Dad wouldn’t fall for it. He’d send me back to my room. And if I tried sneaking downstairs to eavesdrop, the creaking treads would give me away. In the end, I opted to sit at the top of the stairs with my book open on my lap and my elbows on my knees.
    I didn’t turn a page in forty-five minutes, but I managed to catch the odd word and phrase and it was enough to confirm her identity. It bugged me that Dad hadn’t told me she was coming. I badly wanted to talk to her. I was desperate to hear if there was any news.
    I understood why Dad had been so secretive. I got that he wanted to protect me. But I was past that now. We both were. Mum’s disappearance had forced me to grow up fast. I’d had to contend with fears and emotions that no kid should have to face. But I’d endured them and I was coming out the other side. Not in one piece, perhaps, but complete enough to know that there were some things that needed to include me.
    I finally got my chance just before noon when the lounge door opened and Dad’s visitor stepped out into the hall. She was leading him by the hand and I can’t pretend that the unexpected intimacy between them wasn’t a shock. She turned to face him, going up on her toes to cradle his cheek in her palm.
    I shut my book with a snap and she turned and saw me and her brilliant smile was like a bright light shining into the dark recesses of my heart. She was achingly beautiful, with long, caramel hair that tumbled down around her face and shoulders, and the most incredible green eyes. She wasn’t the least bit embarrassed to be caught comforting Dad. She was the most relaxed, most uninhibited person I’d ever met.
    Her name was Detective Constable Knox. Or Jen, as she’d told me to call her. She wasn’t in charge of the investigation into Mum’s disappearance but she was part of the team tasked with finding her. She’d talked to me right from the beginning. She’d listened to my questions and she’d answered them as best she could. She was someone I’d grown to care deeply about and, if I’m honest, someone I hoped cared deeply about me, too.
    ‘Hey Claire,’ she said, and if she was suspicious about why I was sitting on the staircase reading an upside-down book, she didn’t show it. ‘Rough day?’
    I nodded and gave Dad the stink eye.
    ‘I was just letting your dad know where things stand.’
    ‘Have you found anything?’
    Dad released a heavy breath.
    ‘Not yet, sweetheart. But we’re still looking. We look every day.’
    ‘Is there a new clue?’
    ‘ Claire. ’ Dad’s voice was tight and hoarse. ‘What have I told you?’
    He’d told me that this wasn’t one of the silly mystery stories I liked to read. He’d told me there weren’t any clues to be followed. He’d told me it was much more complex than I could possibly understand.
    But I didn’t believe him. I felt sure Mum had left something behind for me – some crumb I could follow. I’d been through her bedside drawers. I’d rooted through her sewing box and my craft things. I hadn’t found anything yet, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything to be found. The most important thing was that we didn’t give up.
    ‘It’s OK,’ Jen said, touching his arm.
    She climbed the stairs towards me, tucked a coil of hair behind her ear and rested her hand on my knee. ‘Listen Claire, there may not be a clue for us to uncover, but there is a solution to all this and we’re doing our very best to find it for you. We’re determined not to let you or your dad down.’
    ‘Promise?’
    ‘I promise that we’ll do all that we can.’
    I