The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1941 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

At dinner, I could feel the tension rising. Simon and I hadn’t had time to discuss Danny’s account, and I suspect neither of us could suggest a nice explanation such as regular donations to the local cat or dog’s home. No there was something going on and the sooner we sorted it the better.

Si and I went down to my study and after a few minutes summoned Danny. I closed the door and he knew something was up.

“Can you explain this?” I asked showing him the bank statement.

He went on the defensive, “I thought this was all supposed to be private?”

“Only after you’re eighteen.”

“But this is my business–it has nothing to do with you or Dad.”

“I’m afraid it does young man. Your account has held about two hundred pounds for the last couple of years, except at Christmas, when we expect money to be spent. So where has it gone?” Simon entered the fray.

“I spent it.” Danny tried to brazen it out forgetting that we had more experience of neck than he did.

“On what?” I asked.

“I can’t remember.”

“Well you have exactly ten seconds before I stop your allowance and close your account.” Simon was not taking prisoners and didn’t like the cheek and obstruction he was receiving from our son.

“So how will I be expected to pay for my school dinner?” His face was bright red yet he was trying to remain defiant.

“I see, right your mother will make you sandwiches, you can take a packed lunch.” I felt my eyebrows rising but not as fast as my anger. However, I managed to stay quiet and bite my tongue.

“Well?” demanded Simon.

“Well what?” asked our son.

“Are you going to tell us how you spent a hundred and seventy five pounds in the past few days?”

“Nope.”

“Go to your room, you will not play football this weekend either–or until I say you can–do you understand?” Simon was laying down the law and perhaps getting a little over enthusiastic. If he mentions hanging or flogging, I shall have to intervene.

“But the team are depending on me,” Danny protested.

“Too bad, they’ll know that you’re unreliable now, won’t they. I’ll phone your headmaster tomorrow.” Simon was really taking no prisoners.

“But you can’t,” squealed Danny who was now very upset.

“Okay, last chance to bargain–tell me where the money is?”

“I can’t, I don’t have it,” Danny sobbed. He sat down on the floor after sliding down the wall and he sobbed giving a huge shudder after a few minutes. I would have stopped before this, Si was after answers and wasn’t going to stop until he had them.

“So who has it then?”

Danny sat and sobbed.

“Tell your dad who’s taken your money, or have you spent it on your girlfriend?”

He continued sobbing but shook his head.

“Does that mean you won’t tell your dad or your girlfriend doesn’t have it?” I asked.

It took him a moment to get control enough to say, “She doesn’t have it–okay?”

Simon was about to reprimand him for shouting the last bit at me, but I stopped him. “Look, son, we’re not trying to punish you, we’re trying to find out what has been happening–that’s all.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” he said his voice croaking with emotion.

Simon went to intervene and I stopped him again. “Son, we’re doing this because we love you.”

“My old mother used to say that before she used to hit me. I going to bed–I hate you both.” He suddenly jumped up and ran out of the room. Simon went to go after him but I stopped him.

“I won’t have a child talk to me like that,” he said angrily.

“Simon, let him go–you’ve done enough damage.”

“Aw thanks, I don’t think–so if you didn’t want me here why did you involve me?”

“I needed to know if his account had been affected.”

“Well it jolly well has, but if you need me to beat a confession out of him, I’m off too.” He simply stood up and walked out while I sat there absolutely gobsmacked.

I thought I’d better deal with things now rather than wait. I went up to Danny’s room and tapped on the door. I got no answer so I tapped harder and turned the handle. Nothing happened. I turned the handle again and shouldered the door. The door stayed closed with no sound from inside the room. I called Simon. Nothing happened there either. I then shrieked Simon’s name and he called back from downstairs. I called him again and he came dashing up the stairs.

It became obvious that I couldn’t open Danny’s door, so Simon tried and failed. He really threw himself at the door but it didn’t budge. “C’mon,” he said and ran downstairs with me a few steps behind him. He ran to the garage and I followed where upon we both grabbed the ladder and ran back to the side of the house and began to erect the ladder against Danny’s bedroom window.

Simon climbed the ladder while I stood on the end to stop it slipping. He got to the level of the window and the next moment he pulled it open and disappeared inside. I gasped. Then his head reappeared and he called–“he’s not here.”

I didn’t understand him, of course the boy was there, where else could he be? I ran back inside the house and up to the room. A chair had been wedged under the door handle.

I searched the room, even looking under the bed–Danny wasn’t there. So how did he get out of the room after wedging the door shut? He couldn’t–well not through the door. I looked out of the window into the darkness beyond. He either flew or climbed down something. Just about reachable was a down pipe from the bathroom next door, and to do that he must have balanced on the window sill. He must have been terrified or so angry he couldn’t feel anything else.

Simon came back with a torch and when he shone it on the pipe we could just about make out some finger marks on it. Great, now what do we do?

I went outside and checked all the out buildings, even the old wood store which was full of insects and spiders. He wasn’t in any of them. “I think we’d better call the police,” suggested Simon and I could think of nothing better to do. He couldn’t have been away longer than a few minutes–well, half an hour. I checked his bike–that was gone too. Where could he go? Hell, what was his girlfriend’s name and where did they live?