Page 76 of Every Christmas Eve
I put my hand on top of hers.
‘I’ve missed you.’
‘It’s only been a day or so since I saw you last. You’ve got it bad,’ she jokes. ‘I’m so sorry, Ben. I’m sorry for all that’s happened between us now and all that happened when we were younger. We’re not the same people any more, but there’s no denying how I long to get to know you again.’
Butterflies dance around inside of me. I lean across andlightly brush her hair from her eyes. I want to kiss her, I want to hold her and tell her how, yes, we’ve changed, but the chemistry between us has never gone away and never will.
‘I’m sorry too for the part I played in stopping us from having what we both wanted more than anything,’ I tell her. ‘Let’s draw a line under it all if we can?’
But our bubble bursts when Cordelia comes racing back into the kitchen out of breath, her cheeks reddened and panic in her eyes.
Lou and I both jump up from our seats.
My first thought is Uncle Eric or Mum. Has something happened to one of them?
‘I can’t find Ava!’ she cries.
‘What do you mean, you can’t find her?’ I shout.
My heart rate goes through the roof in an instant.
‘I’ve checked the whole house, Ben,’ says Cordelia. ‘She’s not in her room, she’s not with Mum, she’s not with Uncle Eric. It’s raining buckets out there still and she’s nowhere to be found. Ava is gone, Ben. It’s already getting dark outside. Come quick! We need to find her.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Lou
Ben searches the grounds of Ballyheaney House with a fine-tooth comb, scrambling through the stable stalls while calling out Ava’s name. The rain is persistent, loud and unforgiving, making visibility even poorer, not to mention heightening the fear that she might be out there somewhere huddling for shelter.
Cordelia has gone into the village, pledging to check every nook and cranny on the streets as well as the shops and restaurants, while I’ve told Mum and Nana Molly to let us know immediately if she turns up at Buds and Beans.
‘Edward and I are going to take a drive around while Nana minds the shop,’ Mum tells me when I call her in a state of despair. ‘We’ve been so busy since you left, but this is much more important.’
‘Edward?’ I ask her.
‘Master Campbell,’ she replies. ‘He’s waiting on me outside already, so I’ll keep in touch.’
Good old Edward. He really is a decent sort. I just hope Nana Molly hasn’t knocked him back if he’s finally askedher to the Christmas Eve party tomorrow. I still haven’t had a chance to ask him if he plucked up the courage or changed his mind.
‘I didn’t even hear her leave the house,’ says Tilda. ‘Please God, let her be safe. It’s going to be dark very soon. I’ll never forgive myself for not hearing her leave if she’s come to any trouble.’
We estimate Ava had left the house no more than fifteen to twenty minutes before Cordelia discovered her missing, which gives her a fairly decent head start to make an escape, but I do my best to play it down to Ben, who’s gone so pale with worry.
‘She’s a child, she’s only a child,’ Ben keeps repeating before we go our separate ways again to continue searching. ‘She thinks she knows this area, but she doesn’t at all. And for a twelve-year-old, she isn’t streetwise. She’ll panic once she strays too far and can’t find her way back.’
‘We’ll find her,’ I promise him. ‘You and I grew up here, so wedoknow the area. So does Cordelia. I’ll go down to the strand boardwalk and search there. She can’t have got too far.’
We are crippled with fear, but adrenaline has kicked in and we’ve developed a plan at lightning speed, agreeing that Tilda and Uncle Eric will keep checking the house and alert us if Ava returns.
‘Be careful,’ Ben tells me as I leave him at the gates of Ballyheaney House. ‘I still have some parts of the grounds here to check. You will let me know as soon as you can if you find her?’
I nod in response, my heart bleeding for him as he sets off with Roly towards the outhouses, hoping to find his precious girl.
‘We’ll find her!’ I shout out to him again. He doesn’t hear me as he’s too busy calling for Ava through the relentless wind and rain. I jump into the car and drive as fast as I can down to the village, where I park up on the Ballydermot Road and get ready to face the elements. At least I know this area like the back of my hand.
Lough Beg in winter has always been breathtaking, but my mission here today isn’t to admire the scenery, which is slowly disappearing into the evening mist, but to search it instead.
With the hood of my waterproof coat dipping over my forehead, I scour the landscape as best I can through the sheets of icy rain. The shades of green that usually frame the strand boardwalk are now muted to greys and browns, the water on the lake is calm with small ripples forming across its surface, and the bare branches of the trees are silhouetted against the dull sky.
