The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1942 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“He said his girlfriend was the sister of his friend,Peter. A girl called Carly.”

“Carly what?” asked Simon.

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me.”

“Could he have gone to their house?”

“He could have gone anywhere. He’s on his mountain bike, so he could be cycling across fields for all we know.”

“Okay, I’ve called the police.”

“God, I hope he’s alright.”

“I expect he is.”

My eyes felt moist and I wanted to cry but that would just give me a headache, apart from making me feel stupid.

A short time later I had to deal with two police officers, a woman who was taking details of him and a man who was looking at his bedroom. Simon was dealing with him.

“What was he wearing?” asked the woman PC and I told her as best I could remember. “And his bike is missing?”

“Yes, a Giant mountain bike with grey and white frame.”

“Does he have lights on it?”

“Yes.”

“Have you got a photo of him, preferably a recent one?”

I went to my computer and printed one off for her. She thanked me and asked if I could email one to the address she gave me. Two minutes later I was back, having sent it.

“Your son is pretty agile. I don’t think I’d have liked to swing out onto that pipe and scramble down it, especially in the dark.” The male PC had returned with Simon. “How long has he been gone?”

“Half to an hour. Once we saw he’d taken his bike we thought we’d best contact you.”

“Has he got his mobile with him?” he asked.

“We’ve tried calling that,” I said, but wrote down the number anyway.

“He’ll probably come back once he gets hungry, they usually do. Did you have a row or something?”

“Not exactly,” I said blushing. “He asked for school meals money and I thought I’d given him some, but I wasn’t sure. Just in case he was spending more money than usual, I asked Si to check his bank account, he’d withdrawn a hundred and seventy five pounds in the past few days–normally he wouldn’t spend that all year.”

“What did he want the money for?” asked the copper.

“He wouldn’t tell us, which was what the conversation was about. He felt we were picking on him but we were just concerned about why he was spending the money.”

“Does he ever drink or take drugs? Sorry but I have to ask.”

“Not as far as anyone knows. He’s a keen footballer, so he abhors anything like drugs, performance ones or recreational. He doesn’t drink, except sometimes a spot of shandy if Simon is having a beer.”

“I see, so where’s he likely to have gone?”

“I have no idea, we don’t really know any of his friends, except the one boy who came here the other week.”

“Who was that?”

“Peter–he didn’t give me his other name.”

The policewoman had been outside and she came back to speak with us. His phone has been used in the last hour, we’re trying to identify the number it called.”

I thanked her and asked if they wanted any tea–it gave me something to do. I came back with a tray of teas and they’d both gone. “They got an address.”

“Oh,” I put the tray down and offered a cup to Simon, then took my own. “Where, did they say?”

“Portsmouth.”

I nodded and sipped my tea. I wasn’t really thirsty but it provided a distraction for my hands and mouth.

I was just clearing the tray and cups up when a car came back into the drive. The two police and Danny came to the door. I swept him up and hugged him, weeping profusely.

“Where was he?” I asked the police.

“I was at Pete’s, I was going to ring later.”

I thanked the two coppers and Simon handed them each something–a bottle of wine, I expect. They left shortly afterwards–mission accomplished.

“Please don’t do that ever again, will you?” I asked Danny, who was red eyed and blushing.

“Okay, can I go to bed now?”

“Yes, where’s your bike?”

“At Pete’s, he’ll ride it to school tomorrow and I’ll bring it home from there.”

“Have you got your lock?”

“Yes, it’s on the bike–can I go to bed now?”

Simon was bursting to say something but held his tongue. He gave Danny a hug as well, before the boy went up to bed.

Tom and Stella were already in bed but came down to see that Danny was safe, as did Julie and Phoebe. I felt exhausted and suggested to Simon that we had an early night. He agreed and we went up after the others.

“D’you reckon he was going to come home, tonight or punish us?” asked Simon once we were horizontal.

“I don’t really care. The police found him and returned him safely, everything else is irrelevant. As long as he’s safe, I don’t care.”

“They did a good job, I’ll admit that, babes.”

“Yes, I’ll write to the chief constable tomorrow and thank him for their effort.”

“I wonder if they told him how they found him?” mused Simon.

“I hope not, but he’ll probably work it out before too long.”

“Meaning?”

“If he ever does it again, he won’t use his phone.”

“Let’s hope he remains in ignorance, then.”

“I won’t tell him, other than I mentioned his friend’s name and the police went from there.”

“If you have access to the network operators, I suppose it’s quite easy to find out if they called anyone.”

“Someone had to think of it in the first place.” I was too worried to think very clearly, so it wouldn’t have been me.

“So? I’d have got there eventually,” said Si.

“Sam or Trish would have been light years ahead of us because they use the technology all the time. They might even have been able to hack the network and identify the number.”

“I told ya, babes, I’d have done the same, but it would have taken me a bit longer.” Simon was adamant he’d have used the same method once he’d thought of it: whereas I was happy to admit my ignorance of such things. I could have considered it but not while I was in full worry mode, by which time he’d probably have been home anyway.

If it hadn’t worked, I wonder what we’d have done–thankfully we didn’t need to find out.