The Runaway. Ali Harper

eyes flashed. ‘He hasn’t killed himself, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

      Jo pressed her fingertips down on the edge of the table, making her knuckles crack. ‘Exclusive?’ asked Jo. ‘Or open?’

      ‘Exclusive,’ said Nikki, without a moment’s hesitation. She pushed the lighter back across the table to Jo. ‘He’s lovely. Ask anyone. He’s—’

      ‘You can’t think of a single reason why he might have needed to get away?’

      ‘No. I mean, at least, no, I don’t think so.’

      I felt sorry for her, as I watched her trawl her memory banks, because I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to try and find a clue, something you may have missed, a sentence that with hindsight had a different meaning, an action that foreshadowed subsequent events.

      ‘I don’t think so,’ she said again. ‘I wanted him to stay in with me. He needed a night out.’

      ‘Have you been to the police?’

      ‘No.’ She turned to me and I sensed she was glad of the distraction. ‘I didn’t want to get anyone into trouble. That’s why I came to you.’

      ‘Trouble?’

      ‘Drugs,’ Jo said, folding her arms across her chest.

      Of course. It was only Wednesday. If this guy had gone to a rave on Saturday night it was possible he hadn’t come down yet. We’d probably find him in a field, telling a tree how much he loved everyone.

      Nikki rubbed her face with her left hand before speaking. ‘He’s not really a drugs person.’

      I leaned closer to her, inhaled some of her second-hand smoke. Its warmth crept down my throat. ‘What does that mean?’

      ‘Well, he does. Sometimes. But, I don’t know …’ She leant back in the chair. ‘I’m worried about him.’

      ‘Maybe the party isn’t over,’ said Jo.

      ‘It’s been four days,’ said Nikki, her voice rising.

      ‘You tried his family?’

      ‘I don’t know where they live.’

      ‘You’ve been together a year and you don’t know where his family live?’

      ‘I know it’s Somerset.’

      ‘He never took you to meet them?’ I was surprised at that. Not that I’d ever been to visit a boyfriend’s parents, but I’d never had a year-long relationship either. As I’ve probably already said, I’m not the relationship type. And one of the reasons I’ve never had a year-long relationship is because I don’t ever want to meet someone’s parents. Or, more to the point, have someone want to meet mine.

      ‘They don’t get on,’ Nikki said but I got the feeling she wasn’t happy with the situation.

      Jo stretched out her fingers. ‘Best thing you can do is relax,’ she said. ‘Men are like dogs—’

      Nikki wrinkled her nose. ‘I need to find him now.’

      ‘Dogs,’ said Jo, crossing her arms behind her head. ‘Simple needs. The trick is not to—’

      ‘You don’t understand,’ said Nikki, grinding out her half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray. ‘I’ve not got time to—’

      ‘What’s the rush?’

      As the question came out of my mouth I realized I already knew the answer. ‘You’re pregnant,’ I said.

      She nodded and another wave of tears welled, smudging her eyeliner before spilling down her cheeks.

      ‘And Matt knows,’ said Jo. I knew from the tone of her voice what she was thinking.

      ‘No.’ Nikki shook her head and a tear flew from her cheek and landed on Jo’s new client interview form. I watched it absorb into the paper. ‘He doesn’t know. I didn’t even know. I only did the test the day before yesterday. It sounds stupid, but I never thought. I didn’t feel right Friday, thought I’d eaten something bad. Felt sick all weekend. Then Monday, I was watching Jeremy Kyle, and this girl with the most awful mother … well, anyway, it just hit me. I went to the chemist, got a test and two minutes later there’s these two blue fucking lines.’

      ‘How pregnant?’ Jo asked.

      ‘Who can remember the first day of their last period? I mean, Jesus.’ She paused and I felt the rage radiating from her.

      I was lost, but fascinated. Like when you pass a car wreck on the motorway. I didn’t want to look but I couldn’t help myself.

      ‘How pregnant?’ said Jo again.

      ‘His birthday.’ She let the words hang in the air.

      ‘So,’ said Jo, re-reading the form, as I tried to remember whether Pisces was February or March. ‘What’s that, two months?’

      I glanced at Jo. I know very little about pregnancy but I know there’s a cut-off point, when it all becomes a definite rather than a possibility. From the look of Nikki’s wide eyes, that point wasn’t too far away.

      As if to reiterate my thoughts she said in a quiet voice, ‘I’ve not got long.’

      The unspoken words hung between us all. I didn’t envy her. I dodge decisions whenever possible. This one was inescapable. Not deciding was a decision all in itself.

      She seemed to sense my sympathy because she grabbed my arm and her eyes bored into mine. ‘I can’t do this, not without him. My mum’s going to flip her wig. And my dad …’ She didn’t finish the sentence, crumpled like a wet cardboard box. I wanted to say something comforting but I couldn’t think of the words.

      Aunt Edie chose that moment to crash through the door.

      I stood up, bashing my knee against the table leg. I took the tray from Aunt Edie and set it on the table in front of us. Aunt Edie passed a box of tissues to Nikki as I hovered by the door, my back to the wall. The room felt smaller than normal.

      I try not to think about the past. Nothing good comes from raking over coals or making plans for an unpredictable future. There is only the here and the now. But I couldn’t stop the images flooding my brain. Another young woman I once knew, who didn’t mean to get pregnant.

      Fiona.

      My half-sister.

      A sister I didn’t know I had until four or so years ago, when I first set out to find my dad, a man who’d disappeared the day I was born, a man I’d never met. A man I now wish I’d never met, pray I’ll never meet again. The man that haunts my nightmares. It’s his face I see when I jolt awake in the pitch-dark, panicked and drenched in cold, wet sweat.

      I wasn’t there for my seventeen-year-old sister when she discovered she was pregnant. I wasn’t there when she had to break the news to our father. I wasn’t there to protect her. I’ll pay the price for that as long as I live.

      I watched Aunt Edie cluck around, handing out mugs of builder-strength tea, and knew that it didn’t matter whether Nikki Cooper-Clarke could pay for our services. It didn’t matter that Jo was convinced Matt had done a runner because somehow he’d sensed his girlfriend was up the duff. I knew there and then that I’d go and find him and I’d force him to face up to the consequences of his actions. Decision implies rational consideration of the facts. Choice is a leap of faith. In that moment, I chose.

      We’d got our second case.

       Chapter Two

      I mumbled something about having to make a phone call and left the room. When the three of them came out, a few minutes later, I was behind the desk, pretending to type up case files. As Nikki left, her cheeks mascara-streaked,