Schoolgirl Missing: Discover the dark side of family life in the most gripping page-turner of 2019

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Acknowledgements

Also by Sue Fortin

About the Author

About the Publisher

Chapter 1 (#u56023287-049c-5ee3-a97c-911d542d6da8)

Neve looked up from the toast she was buttering as her daughter came into the kitchen. Poppy was living up to the floral element of her name, wearing a kaleidoscope of colours; from her pink and yellow spotty top, to her bright red leggings and white socks.

‘Good morning, Poppy,’ said Neve, smiling fondly at the teenager she’d legally adopted when she had married Kit. ‘You look very colourful today.’

‘You look very colourful today as well,’ said Poppy, mimicking Neve’s Welsh accent. She sat down at the breakfast bar, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her middle finger.

Neve raised her eyebrows slightly, unsure if the middle finger was an intentional gesture on the 14-year-old’s behalf or not. Neve passed over the plate of toast. ‘Jam OK?’

‘You ask me that every day.’

‘One day you might surprise me and say you want marmalade.’

‘Why would I do that? I don’t like marmalade.’

Neve gave a shrug. ‘That’s why it would be a surprise.’

‘Where’s Dad?’ asked Poppy.

‘He’ll be down in a minute.’ As soon as the words left Neve’s mouth, she regretted them. Poppy would now be clock watching and if Kit didn’t arrive within the next sixty seconds, she would be chiding Neve for getting it wrong. Neve went for the distraction tactic.

‘Do you like my new dress?’ she said, stepping out from behind the breakfast bar and performing a theatrical twirl. ‘It’s not quite as bright as your top, but I thought the pale blue was pretty. A bit like the sky today.’

‘I don’t like blue.’

‘Not even this shade of blue?’

‘Dark blue, light blue, green-blue, black-blue. I don’t like any blue.’ Poppy took a bite of her toast.

Neve pulled a mock disappointed face and turned away before Poppy could see the small smile of amusement that was threatening. Neve knew Poppy well enough by now not to take offence at what she said. Poppy didn’t have the same thought filter as others. To Neve, it was just one of Poppy’s characteristics, whereas to others, it was disconcerting, borne out through ignorance and/or lack of empathy. It frustrated Neve to think that some people couldn’t see past this quirk and dismissed Poppy with words like ‘odd’ ‘weird’ and ‘strange’ or phrases like ‘not all there’ and ‘a bit slow’. She busied herself with opening the back door to let their 2-year-old Labrador in. ‘Willow likes my dress, don’t you, girl?’ said Neve, making a fuss of the dog, sending golden dog hairs floating to the floor. Willow had been an unexpected present from Kit two years ago. A fur-baby, as Neve’s friend Lucie had referred to the dog. ‘Your child substitute,’ she’d said, grinning.

It turned out that Lucie had been spot on with her observation, well, in as much as Kit had intended the gesture to reinforce his message to Neve that he had Poppy and when he’d said he didn’t want any more children, he’d meant it. However, Neve hadn’t yet given up hope of changing his mind.

‘I’m sitting next to Callum at lunch today,’ announced Poppy, distracting Neve from her thoughts.

‘Are you? That’s nice,’ said Neve, as Willow placed herself next to the bar stool and stared hopefully up at the toast. Neve poured her daughter a glass of apple juice as she tried to pluck Callum’s name from the filing cabinet of her mind.

Ah, yes, Callum.

Poppy had spoken about him a lot recently. He was new to St Joseph’s and from what Neve had gleaned from Poppy, he had just come out of mainstream education. Not dissimilar to Poppy’s own route to St Joseph’s. She’d had a hard time progressing through the education system and her transition into secondary school had been particularly painful. Twelve-year-olds weren’t as forgiving or accepting as primary school children; all Poppy’s needs were suddenly amplified and her coping mechanisms became inadequate. Her behaviour was sometimes unpredictable and her social skills under-developed, making her prime fodder for relentless teasing. Even though the Special Educational Needs team had tried to help Poppy, Kit and Neve had taken the decision to remove her from secondary school and send her to St Joseph’s where they had the resources, the time, the funding and the understanding. Poppy appeared to be thriving at the school so neither of them had regretted it for a moment.

‘He’s going to share his sandwiches with me,’ said Poppy, chomping on her toast. She wiped a splodge of jam from the corner of her mouth with her hand. ‘He has cucumber sandwiches.’

‘Just cucumber?’ Neve glanced at the clock, aware that Kit’s sixty seconds to put in an appearance were nearly up. Unfortunately, as she looked back at Poppy, Neve realised the time-check had not been missed.

‘Dad will be here in three seconds,’ said Poppy. ‘Two. One.’ She looked expectantly towards the door. ‘Dad?’

‘He won’t be long,’ said Neve. ‘Drink your apple juice.’ She slid the glass closer to Poppy.

‘You shouldn’t tell lies,’ said Poppy.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I meant approximately a minute.’

Poppy peered into her glass. ‘I don’t think blue suits you.’