Page 3 of Touch in the Night

“Hey,” Oliver said uncertainly, approaching the girl. The girl finally raised her head. Even in the dimness, Jesse could see her face was tear-stained and puffy. “Hey,” Oliver said, kneeling next to her, putting his mittened hand on her arm. “Hey, what’s up? You lost?”

The girl nodded, screwing her face up like kids did when they were trying desperately not to cry.

“It’s okay,” Oliver said with a smile. “We can help. Can’t we, Uncle Jesse?”

“Course we can,” Jesse said. “We’ll get you home, love. You’ll see. Can you tell us your name?”

She sniffed. “Dimity.”

Oliver giggled. “That’s a funny name.”

The girl scowled. “No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is,” Oliver said, smiling wider.

“No, itisn’t,” Dimity insisted.

“Okay, okay,” Jesse said as Oliver’s smirk threatened to break into another giggle. “Dimity? Can you tell me where you folks are?”

“I’m…I’m looking for my dad,” she quavered. “I’ve looked everywhere… He was supposed to be here.”

“It’s all right, honey,” Jesse said. “We’ll find him. But let’s get you inside somewhere warm first, okay?”

Dimity stared warily at Jesse.

“It’s okay,” Oliver said. “Uncle Jesse’s nice, really. He only looks scary.”

“Oi,” Jesse said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and Oliver laughed, startling a chuckle from the girl. “He’s right though, love. They’re only piercings. I’m soft as soft inside, promise. Up you get. I know a place around the corner that does thebestmilkshakes.”

Her face brightened, and Oliver exclaimed excitedly. They helped Dimity to her feet, and Jesse instructed his nephew to take the little girl’s hand and not let go. Oliver obeyed, and Jesse took his nephew’s other hand. They left the alley, the little boy chattering about the moon and star lights, the Minster, the candles.

“I wanted to see it,” the girl sniffed again as they turned onto another side street. “My dad was supposed to be there.”

“We’ll get you back to him, love. Don’t worry,” Jesse said. He ushered them into the warm, steamy space of Ditzy Daisy’s Ice Parlorwith relief. His hands pulsed as they warmed. The children’s faces lit up as they took in the counter, laden with sponges, brownies, trifles, cupcakes and cookies.

He steered them into a booth near the door just as a smiling middle-aged woman in a bright blue apron appeared from behind the counter with a notebook.

“And very nice to see you again, Jesse,” she beamed as she took in the children. “On babysitting duty again, I see?”

“Hey, Daisy,” Jesse said, keeping an eye on the children as they began scanning the laminated menu of colorful ice creams. “Can I borrow your phone?”

She gave him a mocking look. “Out of credit again?”

“It’s sort of an emergency.”

Daisy’s face clouded. “An emergency?”

Jesse nodded to the girl and lowered his voice. “Found the little lass in an alley. Got separated from her dad at the switch-on, I think. My phone’s dead, and I need to call the police.”

“Oh Lord,” Daisy whispered, handing over her phone. “Sure thing, Jess. The poor little mite. You get on with that, and I’ll sort them out with some sugar.”

“Thanks, Daze,” Jesse said with a heartfelt smile and stepped to one side to make the call.

“Police, please,” he answered the emergency switchboard operator. “Hey,” he said when a woman answered after a number of beeps, “I’m at the cafe on Huntington Road, York. I’ve found a lost little girl, Dimity. She’s looking for her dad.”

“Did you say Dimity Hawthorn, sir?”

Jesse blinked. “Don’t know her surname, but I think she was at the Christmas light switch-on—”

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