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Maybe Lucy hated broccoli, and liked cats

She was reportedSomebody out there wants to knohere she is, what happened to her Maybe, her parents; maybe they love her, and are desperate to know that she is okay

In which case, if I am – if I was – Lucy, there’d be no point in contacting theood as dead She doesn’t exist any more She’s been Slated

She stares back atI’d done her without the kitten, a different backdrop, but her eyes are the sa My eyes Apart froer, hers look happier, too; even without the kitten

This drawing I’d done with ood, it is better than good She looks like she could step off the page and into my room, or turn around and clioose bue that slopes down on her left, so I’ve never seen in person: raph

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

The nexthe is on s now that when half awake and reaching out in all directions, I couldn’t find hin when Ao down for breakfast, either Surprised to find Dad behind soh the kitchen ht is still untouched in his bowl

‘Where’s Sebastian?’ I ask Mu for a stupid cat He’s probably off stalking aa friend’

Amy looks up from her cereal ‘I haven’t seen him for a few days, either Dad, have you been in the shed?’

He looks over whatever he is reading ‘Last night I’ll check after breakfast,’ he says and disappears back behind it

‘Soets locked in,’ Ao et ready, then check the garden The shed in the back is locked and has no s, but I call Sebastian’s name and listen at the door: no response

A toot toot sounds out front: Jazz Now that he is official and has a full co us for school

I round the side of the house to see Amy already there

‘Come on If we’re late for school, bet we’ll be back on the bus’

We lurch up the road, and I keep ardens and footpaths for Sebastian And the road So many cars like Jazz’s up and down every day at speed

But see nothing

A ‘Don’t worry! I’et back later’

‘Worry about what?’ Jazz asks

‘Our cat is ,’ I say

‘Cats are explorers, like me; they like to wander the world, see what there is to see’

Amy rolls her eyes ‘Sure Mr Columbus; whatever you say’

‘What’s with the shed out back?’ I ask

‘What do you mean?’ Amy says

‘There’s no key for it It’s not on the house keys that hang inside; I checked’

She shrugs, disinterested ‘I don’t know Only Dad uses it’

‘Probably full of Man Stuff,’ Jazz says ‘Like rakes and laers’

‘No Those are in the little shed on the side of the house,’ I say, having raked leaves a few days ago while Sebastian chased the rake I feel uneasy He has beenwe beat the bus by enough to be early I slip off to the school Learning Resources Unit before class to do a search of the other thing playing on my mind: Keswick, where Lucy lived before she disappeared I just have to know: are those in, I findthe school computer to Mac’s This one is like every computer I have ever seen, until yesterday We have the same at home; Dad installs and maintains computer systems all over the place, and I bet they are the sa Cs as always at the top left I’ve never really focused on theoverners are reaching to the keyboard, about to type Keshen it hitspersons or anything touchy on other cooff, search undone Suddenly queasy that Kyla Davis searching ‘Keswick’ where one Lucy Connor disappeared six years ago ht set off an alar at a dusty old illustrated atlas of the UK fro I did still draw Lucy with a cat: Catbells: a popular ridge alkers, easily accessible froe of the drawing I did last night

Maybe, I’ve seen a picture of Catbells so Or maybe, some part of raph in the book, then close ood, it is two-di about this place If I think about it directly I re or two

A librarian looks at me curiously across the room She puts her cup of tea down on the desk I hurriedly shut the book and shove it back on the shelf, and make an exit

Mr Gianelli leads us out into the sunshine with our sketch pads They had that wrong, the weather report on Mac’s TV: there is no sign of the rain, rain, rain they said would start today

He marches us the short walk to the woods around Cuttle Brook, and plonks himself down on a bench with a flask of tea ‘Go! Shoo! Draw so, come back in an hour and amaze me with your work’

Everyone scatters, most in twos and threes Paths lead off in all directions I watch which way Phoebe goes and head the opposite way

Paths criss-cross around, and I head into the densest part of the woods; I run for a while, anxious to put space betweentrees, al the brook, leaves rotting underfoot