Page 50 of Hope and Happiness in Bluebell Wood
‘It’s Robin,’ she says, looking like she might cry. ‘He’s gone missing.’
Fifteen
‘Oh no!’ I say, staring at her. ‘When?’
‘About half an hour ago. He’d been banging on about seeing you and Merlin all day. I told him we couldn’t just show up without warning, but he wouldn’t listen. He got it into his head that he wanted to see you today and that was that. I don’t suppose he’s here, is he?’ she asks hopefully. ‘I tried to call you but you weren’t answering your phone?’
‘Sorry, it must be out of charge,’ I lie, the truth was I’d turned it to mute just before Merlin and I took our afternoon nap. ‘No, I haven’t seen Robin at all.’
‘Oh God, where has he gone, then? I was convinced he’d be here. He’s never done this before; I have no idea where to start looking for him.’
‘Come in,’ I tell her, as an order rather than a request. ‘You’re getting soaked out there. Let’s think about it together.’
Linnet looks desperately around her. ‘Maybe I should just go and look for him?’
‘Yes, we’ll definitely do that,’ I say firmly. ‘But we need tothink where is best to look first, and then if need be we can get some others to help us search.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ Linnet says, definitely on the verge of tears as she allows herself to enter the cottage. ‘There’s only me and Robin at home; I didn’t know what to do or who to ask.’
‘Come and sit down,’ I tell her gently, as I help her off with her thin raincoat and lead her through to the sitting room. ‘Now I know this might seem a little trivial,’ I say as Linnet sits down on the edge of the sofa and runs her hand agitatedly over her damp hair, ‘but it might help. Can I make you a cup of tea? Or something stronger, perhaps?’ I wasn’t sure I had anything stronger, but I thought Evelyn would have some cooking sherry or some such thing tucked away in her cupboards if I looked hard enough. ‘You look like you need warming up.’
Linnet shakes her head. ‘No, thank you, I’ll be fine.’
She looked anything but fine; however, I sit down next to her anyway. ‘Now, when was the last time you saw Robin?’
‘He was playing with his superhero dolls in our lounge,’ Linnet says quickly. ‘I popped through to the kitchen to put the kettle on. While I was there I began wondering what we might have for our tea. I went to the freezer and called to Robin would he like fish fingers? He loves his fish fingers,’ she says, looking distressed again.
I nod, hoping she’ll continue.
‘When he didn’t answer, I called again, then I went back to see what he was doing and that’s when I discovered he was gone. Robin likes to play hide-and-seek, so I spent a few minutes searching the house for him, then I popped out into our garden. It’s only tiny and there’s not many places he could hide without me seeing him. And then I started to panic. I called to him to come out if he was hiding in the house somewhere,but there was nothing. Our house is a bit like our garden,’ she explains. ‘It’s small, so there’s not many places he could hide himself, and I’d checked all his usual hideaways.’
‘Is that when you came here?’ I ask.
Linnet nods. ‘I sort of ran here, looking all the time in case I could spy him. I thought I’d bump into someone along the way and I’d ask if they’d seen him, but I didn’t see a soul.’
‘It’s a wet Sunday afternoon,’ I explain. ‘There won’t be too many people out and about. Right,’ I say, trying to sound authoritative and in control, when the truth was I felt neither. ‘Let’s assume you were correct about him trying to come here. Shall we take a look around the cottage and the garden, and then if we don’t find him we’ll head further afield.’
Linnet hastily nods her agreement, and we set about searching the few rooms that Bluebird Cottage has. It would have been pretty impossible for Robin to sneak in here without Merlin or me hearing him, but I felt Linnet wouldn’t rest if we didn’t.
But as I expect, our search of the house comes to nothing.
‘Garden!’ I quickly say when Linnet’s lip starts to quiver again.
The rain, which has been on and off all afternoon, has taken another quick break as we head out into the garden and begin searching – in the bushes, behind trees, in the ramshackle old shed that sits at the bottom of the garden housing a few gardening tools, but again our search is in vain.
‘Oh my God, where is he?’ Linnet cries when I emerge from the shed alone.
‘Could he have gone to the woods?’ I ask gently, knowing that this was not going to go down well. ‘My son loved to go exploring in places like that when he was young.’
‘Robin does love the wood,’ Linnet agrees, ‘but he’d never go there alone – not to a creepy place like that.’
I wouldn’t have described Bluebell Wood as creepy, but now was not the time to debate adjectives with Linnet.
‘Why would he love the wood if he’s scared of it?’ I ask.
‘Oh, he’s not scared, I am,’ Linnet admits. ‘The school have taken him there a few times on nature trips. That’s how I know he likes it.’
‘What are we waiting for, then?’ I ask. ‘Let’s go.’
