Wearing a blue-and-grey-checked flannel shirt, grey jeans and white Converse low-tops, Jason wore his blond hair undercut with the top kept long and gelled back, away from his forehead. He had a habit of rubbing his hand against the short undercut when he was worried: the friction seemed to calm his nerves.
I tapped on the glass and he looked up. Maybe the last few weeks had skewed my judgement, but I couldn’t ignore my gut. I needed a second opinion.
He gave me a questioning frown-smile, trying to work out what I was doing here. I beckoned him out to the corridor and, after setting the class an exercise to be going on with, he made his excuses.
‘Everything OK?’ he asked as he shut the door. He looked behind me, as though there might be someone there who could offer an explanation for my presence. ‘Has something happened?’
‘Everything is fine. Just fine. It’s just – I was just –’ I’d been holding my breath and the words sounded more hurried than I’d intended. ‘I know this is going to sound weird. I was in this shop. There was a kid, behind the counter.’ I forced myself to say it out loud. ‘He looked like Barney.’
His eyes widened but then, within seconds, he recovered his composure.
‘OK.’ His voice was calm. Five years of countless disappointments had left him cautious.
‘I want you to come and have a look. Now.’
‘Now?’ He looked back at the classroom.
‘If we wait then there’s no guarantee he’ll be out in the open like this again.’
‘You’re really fired up.’
‘I, of all people, wouldn’t come to you like this unless I thought it was important. You know that.’
He took a breath and exhaled slowly.
‘No stone unturned, right?’
I smiled. This was his favourite mantra.
‘Exactly.’
‘Let me finish up.’ He checked the door window. The students were getting restless. ‘I was nearly done anyway. Then I’m all yours.’
‘Thank you.’ We hugged, my embrace a combination of relief and gratitude, and he returned to the classroom.
It didn’t take long for him to assign homework and gather his things and then we were on our way, towards the exit that led to the car park.
Outside, the day had finished with a scorch, the mid-September heat quilting itself over the town, the only sounds the bark-bark of a tetchy dog and the half-hearted wails of a distant siren.
I waited until Jason got into his Golf before walking over to where I’d parked.
Once inside my car, I looked back over to him, ready to coordinate our departure. The sun was shining directly onto his windscreen, a blinding white glare. He hadn’t shaved in days and his stubble glittered in the light. I watched as he reached his hand up, ready to flip down the visor, but then he paused. Lifting his face towards the heat, he closed his eyes. It looked like he was offering himself up to the sky.
Chapter Three
We reached the off-licence, parked and came together on the pavement. Jason took in the tramp asleep on a bench and the teenage boy trying to balance pushing a pram with keeping control of two unruly Staffordshire bull terriers. Swearing loudly, he was directing his curses evenly between the crying baby and the misbehaving dogs.
‘What were you doing in this neck of the woods?’
‘I had an area-manager meeting, in Gateshead.’
I took his hand and led him over to the entrance. An illuminated blue sign protruded over the width of the shop’s scuffed façade, announcing the off-licence’s name – Wine City – in a cartoonish red font. Wires looped and dangled to the right of the sign’s edging, overspill from the electrics within.
‘The lighting in there isn’t great, but it’s good enough.’ I tried to sound reasonable. ‘You’ll need to direct your attention out back. There’s a corridor.’
For a brief moment I considered the possibility that, if the boy was indeed Barney, his captor might recognise Jason. If that happened, then the man would know we were onto him. It was a risk, but one I decided was worth taking.
Jason pushed back his shoulders and lifted his chin. He didn’t seem to harbour any real hope that the child inside was his son.
‘Here goes.’
Once the door had swung shut, I took up a position to the left of the shop and waited, braced for the reaction I was sure would come.
Alone, I began to imagine how the rescue might play out if Jason was able to make a positive ID. How the police would force their