The Child’s Secret. Amanda Brooke

she been missing long?’ Sam asked.

      ‘Ten, fifteen minutes.’ There was a flicker of guilt as Anna Jenkins added, ‘No one really noticed.’

      ‘Then yes, phone them!’

      She looked hurt by Sam’s sharp tone and he wanted to tell her they were probably panicking over nothing but he didn’t; in his experience that wasn’t always true. He managed to soften his tone when he added, ‘OK, give it a few minutes. Wait here and I’ll take a look around too.’

      They swapped mobile numbers and then Sam took off again at a sprint, his mind buzzing as countless scenarios came to mind, each of them pulling him in a different direction. For every large open space there were countless nooks and crannies for a child to disappear into and, God forbid, there was the lake too. There were also numerous outbuildings that had once been part of the landowner’s substantial estate; some were still in use while others had been abandoned, making them all the more enticing for a child with a mind to explore. And then there were the busy roads surrounding the park, the busiest being Menlove Avenue, which was where the school bus had disembarked. If Jasmine had decided to leave for whatever reason, she might head that way.

      With his heart hammering in his chest, Sam bolted in that direction. Racing along the main throughway, he looked from left to right, desperate for some reassurance that she hadn’t left the park, and all the while the distant hum of traffic grew louder until it was deafening. He started to zigzag from one side of the path to the other and he was moving so fast that he went a dozen extra steps before his body was able to react to what he had just seen. He did an about turn and darted through the fir trees towards one of the park’s oldest occupants, which had not only captured his imagination.

      Jasmine stood with her forehead resting on the railings as she stared at the exposed heart of the tree. The wood was rotting and crumbling along the exposed edges of the trunk where the mighty oak had split in two. She wished she could stand there all day watching over the tree and she didn’t think anyone would miss her if she did. Even her best friend, Keira, had been too busy swapping lunch with Jenna Rose to notice when she slipped away.

      Wondering how cold and creepy the park might become if she stayed through the night, Jasmine looked up at the gnarled and twisted boughs above her. They reached out in every direction, some strong enough to support themselves while others needed the assistance of the metal props, reminding her of the crutch her mum had hobbled around on when she had fallen and broken her ankle last year. But it wasn’t the boughs lifted high out of reach that caught her attention, but the one that rested its weight on the railings to save it from falling to the ground.

      When Jasmine touched the sagging branch, she could almost believe she was taking the old tree by the hand.

      ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Do you mind if I get a bit closer?’

      The Wishing Tree didn’t complain when she climbed along the branch; in fact, she was convinced it was giving her a helping hand. Once over the railings, she stepped carefully through the cloud of bluebells until she was within touching distance. She reached out her hand and placed her palm tentatively against the warm, wrinkled bark. When she flinched, she wasn’t sure if she had felt the tree’s pain or her own; it was as if the two had become intertwined …

      Sam could see no more than a wisp of golden hair and the sleeve of her chequered school pinafore but there was no doubt in his mind that he had found Jasmine. He came to a halt twenty feet away from the Allerton Oak and took a deep, shuddering breath that caught in his throat. If he didn’t know better, it had sounded like a sob. This, he told himself, was why he wanted to be a recluse. People were too much of an emotional investment, and Sam was already spent.

      As a seasoned runner, it didn’t take Sam long to catch his breath, but his pulse was still racing as he dipped beneath the shade of the oak. Jasmine was standing on the other side of the railings. She had her arms open wide and her eyes closed.

      ‘Can you hear anything?’ Sam asked.

      The girl stumbled back in surprise and the notepad she had been holding dropped to the ground with a flutter of pink paper. ‘I didn’t do anything,’ she said, backing away.

      ‘Hey, it’s OK,’ he said. ‘And I’m sorry if I gave you a wee fright.’

      The girl reluctantly collected up her things and clambered back over the railings while Sam remained at a safe distance. He waited until she was standing on the correct side of the barrier, her head bowed with guilt, before he broke the bad news. ‘I’m afraid you’ve got Miss Jenkins in a bit of a flap. I’d better ring her and let her know to call off the search.’

      Jasmine’s head snapped up. ‘She won’t tell my dad, will she?’

      The sudden look of horror on her face was difficult to ignore and Sam did his best not to reflect her concern but to give her a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he promised.

      After making the call and telling Miss Jenkins they were heading straight back, Sam was as reluctant to escape the shade of the tree as was Jasmine. ‘So,’ he asked, ‘did you get a reply from the Wishing Tree?’

      ‘All I could hear was it groaning,’ she said before shaking her head. ‘I shouldn’t have done it.’

      ‘Run away?’

      ‘Asked for a wish,’ she corrected. ‘I think it does feel pain, you know.’

      Sam considered telling her that the Wishing Tree was only a figment of his own imagination and that it was no more aware of their secret desires than the pink paper she had used to scribble her wish on. But one look at her told him that she needed something to believe in and so instead, he found himself saying, ‘I don’t think it feels its own pain, Jasmine, but there are times when I think it feels ours.’

      Jasmine looked thoughtful for a moment as she glanced from Sam to the tree. ‘Maybe we should leave it in peace then,’ she said, and Sam didn’t argue.

      Rather than welcome arms, Jasmine’s classmates greeted her with scowls as if disappointed that the drama had been drawn to a close without an exciting climax.

      ‘I wanted to see the scuba divers going into the lake,’ Matthew muttered as the teaching assistants gathered everyone into line for the final trek to the school bus.

      Miss Jenkins was bringing up the rear and only when she’d finished counting her charges for the third time was she satisfied. ‘Sorry, I’m not going to have a chance to ask you about your sketches now,’ she told Sam. ‘We’re late getting back as it is.’

      ‘I could always drop them off at school for you,’ he offered.

      She tilted her head and snared him with her smiling eyes. ‘I do have a life outside school, you know.’

      Anna Jenkins was ten years his junior and although he could remember being thirty, he had nothing in common with the man he had been back then and for the life of him couldn’t see what this young woman saw in him, assuming she was interested at all. The answer to that question came soon enough when she added, ‘You have my number, Mr McIntyre. Why don’t you invite me out some place where I can call you Sam and you can call me Anna?’

      The flush rising in his cheeks was obscured by his beard, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Anna could feel the heat of his embarrassment. His eyes darted from left to right until he found his means of escape. Gesturing towards the fully loaded bus, he said, ‘I think your group’s about to lose their teacher if you don’t hurry up.’

      Anna was forced to leave without receiving her answer and voiced her regret at not casting her own wish into the Wishing Tree.

       3

       Sam’s flat: Wednesday 7 October 2015

      ‘It seems like Jasmine made quite