every instinct I had not to hoist him over my shoulder and make a run for it. Up close, his face was longer and slimmer than in any of the pictures I’d seen of Barney (but that was to be expected with the age he was now) and his hair (a fine, white blond when he was taken) had darkened and thickened into the exact sandy yellow that covered Jason’s scalp. A small crescent-shaped scar decorated his right cheek. I felt a pinch of doubt. Barney didn’t have any scars. But then he could easily have got the mark at some point in the last five years. It meant nothing.
I was trying to order my thoughts when another two people appeared in the boy’s wake. One of them I recognised as the chubby girl from the café and the other was a tall, acne-ridden lad of eleven or twelve.
‘And this is our Kimberley and our Jake,’ said Keith, giving them a wave.
Once again, I was struck by the feeling I’d had when I last saw Kimberley in the café. She reminded me of someone. But who?
I nodded hello and then took myself to one side of the group. It was all as Tommy had said. Keith hadn’t, as I’d feared, fled the country. Instead, he and his sister had gone on the run, not for any of the reasons I’d thought, but because of her abusive ex-husband and the threat he posed. I looked at the silly hat Keith wore. The oversized bobble wobbled every time he moved his head.
‘I was just saying to Keith,’ said Tommy, trying to involve me in the conversation. ‘The caff’s not the same without him just down the road.’
‘Don’t listen to him,’ said Keith, putting a conspiratorial arm around my shoulder. ‘He doesn’t miss me.’ He patted his belly. ‘He misses my need for a bacon and egg sarnie every morning.’ He turned back to Tommy. ‘Profits taken a bit of a dent?’
Tommy was about to reply when there was a loud crack above our heads. The fireworks display had begun. We all jumped and turned to face the opposite hill. Purple, blue and silver fizzled down through the night sky.
I watched as Kimberley retrieved her phone from her coat pocket and held it up in the air, ready to selfie against the background of sparkling fireworks. Adjusting her ponytail, she pouted and pressed the button. A small blue square appeared in the middle of the screen and the camera zeroed in on her small, porcine eyes and neat, snub nose. She looked to be sixteen, maybe seventeen. Her features were almost fully established; her chin, cheeks and forehead markers on the tipping point of what would be her final, adult face.
And then it hit me. The reason I felt like I’d seen her somewhere before.
The realisation was so intense I had to stop myself from shouting out.
I stole another look at Kimberley, my brain struggling to recalibrate. She was busy uploading her selfie, her face illuminated by the screen’s blue glow.
All this time I’d been focused on Keith, convinced there must be some connection between him and Barney’s disappearance. And there was a connection. I’d just been looking for it in the wrong place.
A series of spectacular golden rockets started to rat-a-tat-tat their way into the heavens. The boy tugged on Keith’s hand.
‘Keith,’ he said, trying to get his attention, ‘I’m hungry.’
Keith placed his hand to his ear.
‘I can hear roaring. Was that a lion?’ He looked to his left and right, pretending not to see the boy. ‘Has a lion escaped from the zoo?’
The boy giggled and wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist.
‘There it is again,’ said Keith, hoisting the boy up into a piggyback. He swung round, pretending to search the nearby area. The boy clung to his shoulders, laughing. ‘There must be a lion. Is he hungry?’ He scratched his head, thinking. ‘Does he want steak and chips? All lions love steak and chips.’ The boy squealed in delight.
Finally, the boy let out a loud, ‘Roar!’ directly into Keith’s ear. Feigning shock, Keith jumped and in one quick movement returned the boy to the floor and drew him into his side.
I remembered the second time I’d tried to go back to the off-licence. The day I met Tommy. In my possession I’d had the four photofits I’d taken from Jason’s file. Composites of the people who had been seen in or around Ashbrook House on the day Barney went missing,