Darkhouse. Alex Barclay

to snap.

      ‘Maybe she hated me and I didn’t know,’ blurted Martha. Everyone looked at her.

      ‘No,’ said Anna, rushing to her side. She patted her arm. ‘She loved you. We all know that. She’s just late home.’

      The questions continued until Frank was satisfied he had enough information. But that didn’t mean he had any idea where Katie Lawson was.

      The cottage, at the end of a damp, mossy lane, was five miles from Mountcannon and had lain derelict for fifteen years. Wooden boards criss-crossed the fractured windows, protecting the place from people less determined than Duke Rawlins. His hands tore at the rotting frame, pulling free parts of the brittle timber. Within minutes he was climbing through the back window into a dark, cramped kitchen. He breathed in the stale air, then worked on the rusted door latch, finally pushing the door open to the breeze.

      He moved through the house, shining his torch over mahogany furniture, ragged net curtains and religious pictures, crooked on floral walls. The bedrooms were small and dark, barely lit by the tiny windows. A tarnished picture frame lay upturned on a sideboard. A strip along the centre of the photograph had been bleached white, where a gap in the boards had let shafts of sunlight through the window. He picked up the frame and slid out the photograph, letting it float to the floor. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out one to replace it. Uncle Bill stood in a faded XL denim shirt and jeans, his right arm extended. The sun was setting behind him and glowed orange, catching his brown hair and full beard. His left thumb was hooked into a brown leather belt that was too tight for his vast stomach. His smile was broad. Solomon sat on a bow perch next to him, one foot raised. Sheba was swooping through the air, poised to land on Bill’s gloved hand and collect her prize.

      ‘Solomon was majestic,’ said Duke, holding the photograph to his chest. ‘He truly was.’ He stretched out his arms and looked into the shadows. ‘But Sheba, you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.’

      Anna pushed aside plates, bottles, cutlery and mugs to add a jug of maple syrup to the breakfast table. Joe looked at the waffles, juice, croissants, bacon, sausage, coffee and tea. ‘Whose room will we charge this to?’ he asked. Anna laughed and looked to Shaun for a reaction. He had none. Tears were dripping onto his empty plate.

      ‘Do I have to sit here?’ he said. ‘I feel sick.’

      ‘No, no, you go,’ said Anna, tilting his chin up. He looked away, then left the table.

      Frank stood quietly in the doorway, smiling at Nora. She never let him down. He knew she would have got out of bed as soon as he left. There was something about her and that navy satin dressing gown that always touched his heart. She hadn’t heard him come in. She sat in a corner of the sofa, her legs stretched out and resting on the low table in front of her. One hand was flicking through a book telling her how to de-clutter her life. The other was reaching out for her coffee mug. She missed the handle, but grabbed it back before it rocked off the side. Frank laughed. She jumped.

      ‘You’re dreadful,’ she said, smiling. She put down the mug and turned around to him.

      ‘Well?’ she said, closing the book.

      ‘There’s still no sign of her.’

      ‘Really?’

      Frank nodded.

      ‘How was Martha?’

      ‘Very upset. God love her, though, she’s very innocent. I asked her a few questions, but I think it scared the life out of her … and I hadn’t even gone near the serious ones.’

      ‘Ah, it’s hard for someone like Martha. She’s from another era.’

      ‘God knows, Katie could have got fed up with how strict she is and run away to make a point.’

      ‘Maybe. And who knows? Martha’s never got over Matt’s death; maybe her moping around the house all the time made Katie feel guilty for getting on with her own life.’

      ‘Could be.’

      ‘Or maybe it just suffocated the poor girl.’

      ‘Possibly,’ said Frank.

      They looked at each other. They knew they were already sounding desperate.

      ‘Either way, we’ll know soon enough,’ said Nora. ‘Good kids like Katie don’t last too long away from home. She’ll be back before lunch, probably.’

      ‘I feel guilty even saying this, but I called the hospitals and a few of the other stations, but nothing.’

      ‘I don’t know whether that’s a good or a bad thing,’ said Nora.

      ‘Hmm.’

      ‘And what about Shaun?’

      ‘I don’t know what’s going on there,’ said Frank. ‘He didn’t walk her home even though he was out with her. We’re always seeing him walking her home, that funny walk they do, wrapped around each other.’

      ‘I know,’ said Nora.

      ‘And he didn’t come with Joe and Anna to Martha’s.’

      ‘What was he doing?’

      ‘Waiting for her to call him, says Joe.’

      ‘That’s a bit odd,’ said Nora. ‘You’d think he’d want to be around everyone. And surely, if she didn’t get hold of him, she would have called her mother, let her know she’s all right.’

      ‘I had a chat with him after Martha’s,’ said Frank, ‘and the poor lad definitely seems out of it.’

      She studied Frank’s face.

      ‘You’re worried.’

      ‘Yes, I am, actually.’ His eyes were tired and sad.

      Nora was about to ask another question, but he held up a finger.

      ‘I can’t really stop,’ he said. ‘I’m going to have to talk to some of Katie’s friends, maybe have a look around the harbour and the strand and out towards town, see if I can see anything. If she isn’t back after that, I suppose I’ll have to call it in to Waterford, make it official.’

      Shaun walked for a mile past Shore’s Rock, along the scenic route from the village. He climbed the iron gate into Millers’ Orchard and jumped down onto the path. John Miller was hunched in the corner, shovelling leaves into a smoking pile, far enough away not to notice Shaun run along the wall to the opposite side and slide down behind the trunk of an apple tree. He closed his eyes and was still in the same position ten minutes later when footsteps behind him made him jump.

      ‘Hi,’ said Ali.

      ‘Hi. What’s up?’

      She sat down beside him and took out an empty soda can. It was bent forward at the bottom and pierced with nine tiny holes. She pulled some grass out of a plastic bag.

      She turned to him. ‘Where do you think she’s gone?’

      She put the grass over the holes and held the opening of the can to her mouth. She held her lighter to the grass and sucked in hard. She tried to pass it to Shaun. He shook his head.

      ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’ve spent the whole morning wandering everywhere …’

      ‘I went into town to look for her around the shops. Which I know was a bit stupid.’

      ‘It’s just not like her to—’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘This was my last resort.’

      ‘Me too.’

      Nora and Frank locked eyes when the phone rang. He was sitting at the kitchen table, trying to eat a sandwich. He slowly reached across to answer it.

      ‘Frank, it’s Martha. She still isn’t back.’

      ‘All