‘Five minutes, boys. Five minutes and we must be out of the house.’
Time was ticking by. The register would soon be called at Kingswood Secondary, the independent school that the boys attended, and it wouldn’t do to be late. The school was very hot on discipline, sending terse letters to parents they perceived to be tardy or lax. Eileen lived in fear of these missives, despite the fact that she had never received one. As a result, the morning routine was rigidly mapped out and usually they would have been out of the door by now, but today she was at sixes and sevens. Her chivvying of the boys was more out of habit than conviction this morning.
Alan hadn’t come home last night. Eileen always worried about him being out after dark. She knew it was in a good cause and that he felt a duty to help those less fortunate than himself, but you never know who – or what – you might run into. There were bad people out there – you only had to read the newspapers to see that.
Normally he would return around 4 a.m. Eileen would feign sleep as she knew Alan didn’t like the idea of her waiting up for him, but in reality she never slept a wink until he was home safe and sound. By 6 a.m., she couldn’t hold off any longer, getting up and ringing Alan’s mobile phone – but it went straight to voicemail. She’d thought about leaving a message, then decided against it. He’d be back soon enough and would accuse her of fussing. She made herself breakfast but couldn’t face eating it, so it sat on the breakfast bar untouched. Where was he?
The boys were ready now and staring at her. They could tell she was anxious and weren’t sure whether to be amused or worried. At fourteen, they were the classic mixture of man and child, wanting to be independent, grown up, even cynical, yet cleaving to the familiar routines and discipline that their parents provided. They were waiting to go, but still Eileen hesitated. A strong instinct was telling her to stay put, to wait for her husband to return.
The doorbell rang and Eileen bolted into the hallway. The silly so-and-so had forgotten his key. Perhaps he had been robbed. It would be just like him to help some ne’er-do-well and get his wallet pinched into the bargain. Composing herself, Eileen opened the door calmly, her brightest smile painted on her face.
But there was no one there. She cast around for Alan – for anyone – but the street was quiet. Was it kids playing silly beggars?
