Page 49 of The Boathouse By the Loch

‘Not you.’ Jake pointed the gun at Patrick Ames.

‘You’d better have a very good reason for pointing that gun at me,’ he said coolly.

‘Ask him where he got the gun,’ said Virgil. ‘This isn’t bloody America. You can’t just walk into a gun shop and buy one.’

‘Is it even real?’ asked another guy, who was still smoking his cigar.

‘Of course it’s bloody real,’ said Jake, hoping they didn’t catch the waver in his voice. Jake had never seen a real gun, let alone handled one.

Jake couldn’t believe the nerve of them all, throwing questions around when he was meant to be in charge. He was the one with the gun. He focused on Patrick.

In the corner of his eye Jake noticed movement. He swivelled his head and caught one of Patrick’s friends try to get up. ‘Stay sitting down and put your hands behind your heads.’

One by one they obeyed.

Jake waited until they all complied then he turned his attention back to Patrick. ‘Now I want to know what you have done with Natty.’

‘I still don’t know what …’ he stopped abruptly. ‘What are you talking about?’ His eyes suddenly darted around his apartment, where Jake had flung open all the internal doors, searching his flat.

‘She’s missing? My granddaughter is missing? You’ve got to tell me what happened. We’ve got to go find her.’

‘Stop bullshitting me,’ Jake spat. He had expected this; he had expected him to plead for his life, but not to start trying to save his own neck by telling such abject lies. ‘Tell me where she is – goddamn you! Tell me.’

The silent promise he had made to himself that he would return to Faye’s flat with her daughter was ringing louder in his ears with each passing moment. The possibility of losing them both was becoming painfully clear. He would never forgivehimself if he didn’t get her back.

Jake started to go over his last conversation with Natty, when he’d spoken to her over the phone the previous evening; perhaps if he had told her when he planned to return from Scotland, instead of just replying with a vaguesoon, he wouldn’t be there right now; she wouldn’t be gone. Of course, he knew that was absurd. It wouldn’t have made any difference. It had nothing to do with him going away. But for some reason, he still felt responsible, and that it was up to him to find her.

‘Now I’m going to ask the question just one last time, and so help me if I don’t get an answer …’

One of the men on the floor spoke up. ‘Tell him, Patrick. For god’s sake, tell him where she is.’

‘I can’t. You know I haven’t seen my granddaughter in an absolute age – through no fault of my own, I might add.’

Jake shook his head. ‘You’re lying.’

‘Why do you think I follow my daughter on Facebook? For any snippet of information I might get about my own granddaughter. But she rarely posts anything, and certainly no photos – nothing about Natty. Except that one time just recently about her headteacher training course, and how she wouldn’t have been able to continue it if it wasn’t for her new, and very reliable, wonderful babysitter, Jake. That’s you, isn’t it?’

‘It’s true,’ said Virgil. ‘He doesn’t see his own grandchild.’ The other men joined in voicing their agreement.

Jake couldn’t think straight with the cacophony of voices. ‘SHUT UP!’ he shouted. He knew what he had come here to do; it should be straightforward. So why wasn’t Patrick telling him where she was?

‘Can you tell me how long she’s been missing?’ said Patrick,his even tone of voice not hinting at his current predicament.

‘May I remind you that I’m the one holding the gun? I’m the one in control,’ said Jake, aware that his unnaturally high-pitched tone of voice was betraying his true feelings; he did not feel fully in control of the situation. From the very start, things had not gone according to plan. ‘And I don’t have to answer your questions.’ All the same, Jake did a quick mental calculation; he’d got the call from Faye mid-morning. It was the last day of the school summer term. She’d said something about dropping Natty off at breakfast club, which she did every day before work. But then she’d had a call from the school a while later because Natty had failed to turn up at breakfast club. Jake momentarily forgot about the gun in his hand, and looked at his watch. It was six pm. She’d been gone ten hours.Ten hours!

‘Oh god! She’d been missing ten hours!’

Suddenly the men on the floor were all talking at once, saying something about being around the kitchen table all day, give or take lunch, and breaks – especially toilet breaks. Bladders weren’t what they once were. It was one of their weekly marathon sessions.

Jake didn’t believe a word of it. ‘You’re friends of his. You’d cover for him,’ he barked.

‘That’s right,’ said Virgil, ‘we are all friends of his. Friends that go way back. Friends that don’t want to see him get hurt. But,’ he paused, ‘just because we’re retired from the force doesn’t mean we have any less regard for truth and justice. Believe me, son, if we knew Paddy had done something wrong, had taken his granddaughter like you say, we would tell you in a heartbeat.’

Jake regarded each of the men nodding their heads, each of the men’s earnest expressions. They obviously didn’t know why Paddy was estranged from his daughter – because he was goodfriends with her ex, Natty’s father Yousaf, and had taken his side when they’d split up, choosing not to believe Faye when she’d told him that Yousaf had attempted to take her daughter.

He needed to think. If what they were saying was true, that Patrick had been there all day, then Yousaf had taken Natty himself. But he must have got the information on the whereabouts of her school and her routine from her grandfather. Something didn’t ring true, though. Yousaf was a kind, gentle soul, according to Faye. He didn’t sound like the kind of man who would snatch Natty. That would be very different from trying to take her away with him before they were estranged. Natty didn’t know her father now. She wouldn’t have gone willingly with a stranger.

Jake was getting tired of excuses. It still had to be Patrick. Maybe he’d said he had to nip out for the morning paper. That was more plausible. But even as he thought it, it sounded ridiculous. How long would it have taken him through rush hour traffic to get to the school, grab Natty, take her to wherever her father was, and then rejoin the game?

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