Page 82 of The Bordeaux Book Club

‘What do you care?’

There was a silence after her daughter’s words and for a heartrending moment, Leah thought Scarlett might have hung up. Whatever recriminations might be coming, this was not the way to play it right now.

‘Of course I care, Scarlett,’ she said, keeping her voice level. ‘Dad and I are just worried about you, that’s all. We spoke to Manon and…’

‘You called Manon? Mum!’

‘We had to, Scarlett. We were worried. We still are.’

Nathan made a move to grab the phone. ‘Let me speak to her,’ he said.

Leah held up a warning hand. ‘Look, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘You aren’t in any trouble. We just want to come and get you. Bring you home. We can talk properly then.’

Another silence.

‘Scarlett?’ she prompted. ‘Please.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know whether you want us to come?’ Leah said, working hard to retain her even tone.

‘No,’ said Scarlett, more quietly now. ‘It’s just, I don’t know where I am.’

‘You don’t know…’

‘Yeah, I’m stupid, I suppose.’ The surly tone was back.

‘No, that’s not stupid at all. Things look very different when it’s late…’ Leah’s eye drifted to the clock on the dashboard. It was almost one. Her daughter was fourteen years old and lost in a city – probably only a few minutes’ drive away. But it might as well be a hundred miles. Anything could happen. Anyone might notice her. ‘Listen, can you see anything…’

Nathan gently took the phone from her hand. ‘Scarlett,’ he said, ‘turn on location on your phone – I can find you on the app.’

Leah looked at him gratefully; she hadn’t thought of that. She was flooded with relief. They would soon know exactly where Scarlett was. They could have her with them, here in this car. The rest they could worry about later. She sent Grace a quick text with the words:

Think we’ve found her!

and her location.

It had been a long time since she’d last been out in Bordeaux in the evening. On other nights, she’d have taken the time to admire the buildings, the view over the river, the various patisseries and delicatessens, fashion boutiques and restaurants that peppered the streets as they drove. She’d have noticed the architecture, the enormous windows, stone carvings, fountains and statues.

But tonight, while she knew her daughter was alone, all she could see were the few solitary figures, the group of men walking to a taxi, the cars making their way to who-knew-where. Tonight, there was no beauty in Bordeaux, only potential danger.

They travelled in silence along a couple of streets, the electronic voice on Nathan’s phone calmly telling them which way to turn. He took a right, a left, turned down a smaller street lit only by shop windows, then out to a wider road, with more traffic and a few people walking the pavements.

And then they both saw her. Dressed in a hoodie, the top pulled up, and with her backpack hanging off one shoulder, Scarlett was standing by a bus stop, her phone glowing just enough to illuminate her face. Nathan pulled over, earning a gesture from the driver behind, and bumping the kerb. But it didn’t matter. They simultaneously flung open their doors and raced towards her, as if – even now – she could be spirited away.

Leah reached for her daughter’s arm, wanting to grab her and hold on to her tight and tell her it was all alright. But as she did so, a hand slapped hers away. And she was confronted by the familiar scowl, the prickly tension, the warning to keep her distance. ‘Scarlett!’ she said.

‘What did you think…’ Nathan began, but Leah gave him a little nudge with her foot.

‘Let’s get you in the car,’ she said, looking at her husband meaningfully. The last thing they wanted was to scare her off – for all they knew, she might decide to run or walk off, or disappear again in some way. Get her in the car, Leah thought, lock the doors and then we’ll talk.

Scarlett looked at them both. ‘God, you’re pathetic,’ she said.

‘Scarlett! How dare you!’ Nathan said, unable to keep up the pretence that as well as being relieved and euphoric, he was almost bubbling over with a heady mix of anger and anxiety.

‘What?’ she said, as if incredulous at his reaction. ‘You are. You just want me to come back so you can put me in my room and ignore me. And make decisions about my life without ever wondering how I feel about it.’

‘What do you mean?’ Leah said. ‘We’d never… I mean, you do spend a lot of time in your room…’

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