Don't Come Looking by AJ Campbell (always you kirsty moseley .txt) 📗

bad. George stayed here with Harry, and Hannah came to Cambridge with me. We distributed the leaflets around all the market stallholders, but no luck. They all said the market closes at four each afternoon and none of them would have been around when he got that cash out at six. We went round all the surrounding shops too. And the church.’ She shakes her forlorn head. ‘On the way home, Hannah suggested we ask the local shops to look at their CCTV.’

‘You could try, but I doubt they’d show you. They only have a legal obligation if you are asking to see footage of yourself. And you have to do that in writing. They have a month to comply. I wouldn’t waste your time.’

‘What about the police, can’t they demand to see it?’

I exhale deeply. ‘We’ve been over this. He doesn’t want to be found, Sasha. They won’t do a thing unless you can prove he is at risk. And you know they interviewed him and deemed him not.’

‘What about everything I’m finding out about him?’

‘I know it’s shocking and hurtful for you, but he hasn’t done anything illegal.’ I still can’t bring myself to mention the coke.

When I’ve cleared the sink of washing-up, I remove the gloves and slap them back over the dispenser. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I must go. Are you sure you still want to do Jim’s physio tomorrow? Why don’t you take a few days off? It must be so stressful working and dealing with all this and now the kids, too.’

‘I can’t afford to take time off. That’s the downside of being self-employed.’ She leans back against the worktop and folds her arms across her chest. ‘If Marc never comes back, both financially and emotionally, I’m going to need my business to survive.’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need me.’ I squeeze her arm. ‘Anytime.’

‘I need to tell you something quickly.’ She walks over and closes the kitchen door. ‘I went over to Pen and Pete’s earlier. I’ve debated about getting Pen involved, but thought what the heck? I pretended I thought the five grand came from both of them, and I asked why they transferred it to Marc’s account last week.’

‘And?’

The stress is audible in her strained and confused voice. ‘Pen didn’t know anything about it. I could tell. She was shocked. Pete said it was a short-term loan. Marc told him he was cashing in twenty-five thousand pounds worth of shares, but he wouldn’t get the funds straight away and needed five grand urgently. He said he would pay Pete back this week.’

‘And you have no idea what this urgent need was?’

‘No. No clue at all. What I do know is…’ she pauses to swallow, ‘we’ve never owned a single share of any kind.’

Twenty-One

LUKE

An extra class? My arse!

Any excuse to see her, the dirty perv.

They must have found it difficult meeting up since study leave scuppered their afternoon break and lunchtime trysts. Probably after school sessions too, not that I would know. Sufficient evidence fills my phone for me not to have wasted my precious time spending another minute in this place. I’m done with learning now.

So, what better excuse than to offer some extra revision classes? Round Robbins’ Sum Ups, he titled them. He thinks he’s so smart, that man. Mr Timothy Robbins. A man of letters and Maths Teacher of the Year to his credit, too. He didn’t account for my astuteness in his calculations, though.

He’s known all along I’m not attending these extra classes because I need to. I mean, come on, I’m predicted four A stars, why would I? Even two Sundays ago, when I turned up with Harry for the first of his two-hour classes, I think I put a fraction of uncertainty into that mathematical mind of his. ‘Luke, what’re you doing here?’ he asked, his eyebrows rising a notch. Did I also notice panic in his voice? Or was that his excitement at seeing her again?

‘Every little helps, sir,’ I replied, staring into his questioning eyes longer than he could stand.

‘Not sure what extra I can teach you, lad. But you’re more than welcome. Take a seat.’

So, I did, in the first row, next to Chelsea Clark. And, for extra amusement, I flirted with her, complimenting her on the pretty dress she was wearing. A floral one that stopped mid-thigh and did nothing to disguise the generosity of her chest. I shuffled my chair as close to her as I could get away with – all the time holding my gaze on Robbins – and I kept lightly touching her arm and nudging her shoulder with mine.

‘What’s with you today, Luke?’ she asked during the break. She was snacking on a granola bar and sipping a homemade drink of a disgusting shade of green – such a goody-two-shoes. ‘You’re acting all strange. Creeping me out. What’s up?’ But I brushed her questions off with some sweeping comment about geometric progressions.

So, again today, I’m attending this last class for nothing other than sheer enjoyment. I stroll along, thinking about how much I am looking forward to it.

I couldn’t persuade Harry to come along. After Sasha called me this morning, asking for my help, I tried. But when I went up to his room, he was lying in bed, his face as white as the walls, staring at the ceiling. ‘Come on, Harry, it’s Robbins’ last class today. Don’t ruin things for yourself now. We’ve got less than a week to go.’

I was half expecting him to tell me to get lost, but after five minutes of incessantly slagging off his parents for the liars they are, his message was loud and clear. ‘Leave me alone.’ So, I did. No use wasting time trying to steer a ship that’s gone off course at this stage of my journey. I need to keep a clear head. Don’t want the captain going overboard, do we?

All the way to school, I wonder if Chelsea has already been