Page 139 of Don't Tell Teacher

‘What about the doctor?’

‘We’ll have to see another doctor.’ I lift Tom into my arms, folding his skinny body over my shoulder.

This ward has a fire escape – it’s one of the first things I noticed.

Escape is always on my mind.

Briskly and unapologetically, I carry Tom straight across the ward, past the nurse’s station and through the double doors to the fire escape. I don’t know if the nurses see me walk past. I hope not, but I don’t turn to look.

As I push the silver door-bar with my hip, I brace for thepeep, peepof the door alarm.

I hold my breath, but to my relief hear nothing.

Typical NHS cuts – the door alarm doesn’t work.

Tom wriggles around in my arms, clinging to my neck, his body jogging up and down as I run down the stairs.

Kate

9.37 p.m.

‘They were here.’ The young nurse is breathless, holding the curtain back. ‘Right here.’

We all stare at Tom’s empty bed.

‘She must have taken him,’ says Sergeant Leach, putting a hand to his radio. ‘I’ll go out the front. Constable, search the ward. Check the toilets.’

The police officers peel off in different directions, Sergeant Leach calling into his radio.

I stand, impotent, by Tom’s rumpled sheets.

Where could they have gone?

In the next bed, the little girl, Charlotte, pulls herself up. ‘Oh, hello. You’re the lady who talked about My Little Pony.’

‘I’m looking for Tom,’ I say. ‘Have you seen him?’

‘He went with his mummy. That way.’ She points to double fire-escape doors.

‘Thank you.’ I look around for the police, then, not seeing them, run to the doors.

‘My mummy is coming tomorrow,’ the girl says.

‘Oh, lovely!’ I call back, pausing at the fire exit, noticing the ‘Emergency Use Only’ sign.

For a split second, I debate whether this counts as the right sort of emergency. I mean, there isn’t a fire. Then I shove open the doors and run down the wrought-iron staircase.

It’s dark outside. Bright buses cruise past the hospital entrance.

One flight.

Two.

Lizzie is stronger than she looks if she carried Tom down these stairs.

Or maybe she didn’t go this way.

I’m on tarmac now, running towards the bus stop.

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