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The Child’s Secret
Amanda Brooke


A little girl is missing. Her parents are hiding something. Who will pay the price?When eight-year-old Jasmine Peterson goes missing, the police want to know everything.What is local park ranger, Sam McIntyre, running away from and why did he go out of his way to befriend a young girl?Why can’t Jasmine’s mother and father stand to be in the same room as each other?With every passing minute, an unstoppable chain of events hurtles towards a tragic conclusion.Everyone has secrets. The question is: who will pay the price?




















Copyright (#u3feeeabe-02da-51b9-b190-4f140f1f7f09)


Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London, SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2016

Copyright © Amanda Valentine 2016

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2016

Cover photograph © Lauren Hammond Photography (girl); Shutterstock (letters and tree)

Amanda Valentine asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008116491

Ebook Edition © January 2016 ISBN: 9780008116507

Version 2016-11-03




Dedication (#u3feeeabe-02da-51b9-b190-4f140f1f7f09)


In memory of Donna Hall


‘What you see depends on what you’re looking for.’

Anon.


Table of Contents

Cover (#ud5f94a22-be45-5862-9fce-0e83e198af42)

Title Page (#ub16369cc-63eb-51db-84b2-8e8636a83a4f)

Copyright (#ue33e76d7-2840-5bd1-b1b7-51bba3ee07d0)

Dedication (#u9b381ac1-3cdc-5a5e-b06f-07e3e3ef736b)

Epigraph (#u9796c6fe-cda6-5c1c-8668-3f106cfd0a9c)

Chapter 1 (#u1b040ea7-3e1b-5eb0-8da1-64e0156be755)

Chapter 2: Six Months Earlier (#u4868d98b-8ab2-5af6-8fe7-9f4381dbecc6)

Chapter 3 (#u1640ff3a-e72a-5f65-a245-275f1d10f3a1)



Chapter 4 (#ud1b878e7-2212-51d4-a3f4-2eef3a63cde0)



Chapter 5 (#ue88a93fe-5566-51ef-b61f-53fbb16bba25)



Chapter 6 (#u628dca59-37a0-5b28-8aec-4946ccaeedb0)



Chapter 7 (#uf4c0910f-e29d-5086-bbf7-f4cf4bc14ceb)



Chapter 8 (#u4bd41aab-f913-56cb-b07f-d3f5d53d4fe8)



Chapter 9 (#u0091381f-8d4f-5d0a-ac4e-58e43ed56c16)



Chapter 10 (#u8cdc6d5f-8d56-50b7-8ee4-1f450b965425)



Chapter 11 (#u53f306dc-435d-5ca1-acdc-0bf37a1226e3)



Chapter 12 (#u3c4c5054-b4a3-58c7-ba33-26becdc32ae8)



Chapter 13 (#ub432100b-0990-5a2e-a209-5f973d741a01)



Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 37 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 38 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 39 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 40 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 41 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 42 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 43 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 44: Endings (#litres_trial_promo)



Keep Reading … (#litres_trial_promo)



Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)



Q & A (#litres_trial_promo)



About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)



Also by Amanda Brooke (#litres_trial_promo)



About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




1 (#u3feeeabe-02da-51b9-b190-4f140f1f7f09)

Wednesday 7 October 2015


The muscles in Sam’s calves screamed with pain as he turned the last corner. His legs were shaking but he didn’t slow as he started up the hill that would take him home. He was in pretty good shape for forty, and more than used to pushing himself to the limit as if training for a marathon, but there would be no finishing line for Sam McIntyre. He had never been able to outrun his thoughts and today was no exception.

‘Not far to go now, boy,’ he promised the dog trotting alongside him.

Jasper, a chocolate-brown cocker spaniel, was little more than a pup and he had been struggling to match his master’s stamina. At one point that morning Sam had thought he would have to carry him, but the dog had picked up the scent of home and was now straining at his leash.

Sam put his head down as they entered the final stretch and it was only when he stumbled to a stop on the driveway that he registered the police car parked outside the house he shared with his landlady. There were two policemen waiting on his doorstep and while the one in uniform spoke quickly into his radio, the other approached Sam.

‘Mr McIntyre?’

Sam glanced only briefly at the warrant card DCI Harper was showing him. He was more interested in checking the house for signs of the catastrophe that would explain the need for a police presence. The drive was covered in a thick carpet of sodden autumn leaves with the exception of a small square next to Sam’s Land Rover. His landlady had left in her battered old Mini earlier that morning and hadn’t yet returned home.

‘What’s happened? Is it Selina?’

‘Selina?’

‘Selina Raymond. My landlady.’

‘No,’ Harper said dismissively. ‘Could we have a word with you, please?’

‘About?’ Sam asked as he raked his fingers through his short-cropped hair that was more salt than pepper around his temples.

‘Perhaps we could go inside first?’

Sam wasn’t so much followed by the police officers as he was escorted up the handful of steps to the front door of the large Georgian house. Stepping into a wide communal hallway, Selina’s ground-floor apartment was on the left and at the far end there was another door that accessed a shared utility room and the rear gardens. The curved staircase with its painted white spindles and polished oak handrail leading up to Sam’s apartment was among many of the original features which gave visitors a grand first impression of the house, but both policemen remained impassive as they headed upstairs. The only sound came from heavy police boots and Jasper’s laboured breathing.

Once inside, Sam turned to Harper who was a few years younger than Sam and a fair bit shorter and wider too. He had a round face and the kind of smile that would earn him a fortune as a used-car salesman.

‘Are you going to tell me what this is about now?’

Harper appeared more interested in taking in every detail of Sam’s living quarters than answering the question. The door to the apartment opened directly to a living room that had access to a small kitchen, a bathroom and a bedroom. The room was wide and spacious and there was plenty of light, albeit grey, coming from a large picture window to the front of the house and a smaller one to the rear. The furnishings were sparse: a small dining table, two armchairs – only one of which showed any signs of wear and tear – and a bookshelf which was almost as bare as the room itself. The floorboards were polished, but there was no rug or any other homely touches to speak of, except for a couple of garish crocheted cushions.

While he waited, Sam watched Jasper disappear into the kitchen and the sound of frantic lapping from his water bowl quickly followed.

‘You live here on your own?’ Harper asked eventually.

‘Just me and the dog.’

‘And you’ve been out for a run?’

Dripping with sweat, Sam opened up his arms and invited the detective to take in his attire. ‘Aye,’ he answered in his soft Scottish lilt, his voice sounding pleasant enough despite his instincts telling him he should be cautious.

‘How long were you out for?’

Sam glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, which was showing half past twelve, and he did a quick calculation. ‘A couple of hours, maybe.’

‘I thought runners wore watches to time themselves?’ Harper said, glancing at Sam’s bare wrist.

Sam shrugged. He had long since lost all desire to track the passage of time and hadn’t worn a watch in six years. ‘I don’t,’ he answered bluntly, having decided that he wasn’t going to give any more information than was absolutely necessary until the detective explained what it was he wanted.

Harper was nodding as he drew his own conclusions. ‘Two hours. That must have been some run.’

‘Nothing unusual.’

‘So how far did you get?’

‘Not that far. I ran towards Allerton, then Garston, before sweeping around towards Hunts Cross. It was the first time out running for Jasper so we walked for a while too.’

‘Did you go through the park?’

‘Calderstones? Yes, I cut through it on the way out, but we came along Menlove Avenue on the way home,’ he said as he rubbed his clean-shaven chin and neck where the sweat had begun to dry and tickle. ‘Has something happened there? I work in the park.’

‘Yes, we know. And you only left the house at about half ten, you say?’

‘Yes.’

‘Not before?’

‘It could have been nearer to ten but no earlier,’ Sam said as he sat down heavily at the dining room table, which was clear except for a single sheet of silky smooth paper. The six-inch square was dark green with a pattern of yellow flowers and he played with a corner while waiting for Harper to explain himself. His patience eventually paid off.

‘At approximately nine o’clock this morning, an eight-year-old girl was reported missing. While you were out on your run, Mr McIntyre, her parents have been frantically searching for her,’ the detective added helpfully.

Sam’s slowing pulse gathered up speed. ‘What little girl?’

‘Jasmine Peterson.’

The name was like a direct jolt to the heart but Sam kept his voice surprisingly steady when he asked, ‘What’s happened? Has she run away? Do you think she’s been harmed?’

‘That’s something I’d like to find out as quickly as possible for her parents’ sake.’

‘Have you spoken to them? Is her mum all right?’

‘Mrs Peterson is distraught, as I’m sure you can imagine,’ Harper said, and then his eyes narrowed, changing not only his demeanour but the nature of the interview. ‘When was the last time you saw Jasmine, Mr McIntyre?’

A flicker of guilt crossed Sam’s face but he hid it well. ‘It was a while ago. Two weeks, maybe.’

‘That long?’ Harper said, less concerned with hiding his own reactions. ‘But you had become very close to her, hadn’t you?’ Before Sam could respond, he added, ‘And yet you haven’t known her very long at all.’




2 (#u3feeeabe-02da-51b9-b190-4f140f1f7f09)

Six Months Earlier (#u3feeeabe-02da-51b9-b190-4f140f1f7f09)

Thursday 23 April 2015


‘Does it hurt?’

Scanning the group of schoolchildren, Sam searched out the owner of the fragile voice which had been difficult to hear above the whispers and giggles of her peers. A small cluster of girls to the back of the group had turned around and he followed their gaze. The girl standing behind them was taller than many of her classmates and yet so insubstantial she was hardly there at all. Her head was dipped and her long blonde hair fell poker straight over her shoulders. Her blue eyes fixed directly on Sam and worry hung like a veil over her face.

‘Sorry?’ he said. ‘Does what hurt?’

‘The tree. Does it feel pain?’

A frown furrowed Sam’s brow as he considered his answer. He had given countless tours of Calderstones Park in his time and the Allerton Oak was one of the highlights, for him as much as anyone. The behemoth was estimated to be a thousand years old and had remained rooted to the spot while the human race rushed past towards bright futures that had quickly receded into the dim and distant past. Had the tree been an impassive observer or did it somehow absorb the trials and tribulations of the people who had taken shelter beneath its heavy boughs? Was that what the girl was asking? It was a good question if it was.

One of the boys nudged his friend and Sam knew instinctively that there was a derisive comment on its way. The Allerton Oak was the last stop of his guided tour and he had already worked out who were the troublemakers – they were easier to spot than the quiet ones. The boy in question had taken a deep breath and was opening his mouth when Sam beat him to it. ‘It does look like it should hurt, doesn’t it?’ he agreed, looking from the girl to the tree, his eyes drawing the children’s gaze away from her willowy figure and towards the giant oak with its fresh green buds that were only just peeking through gnarled branches.

The group took a few steps closer and one or two leaned against the painted iron railings that formed a square to guard the oak from the more inquisitive visitors. The trunk of the tree was at least six feet in diameter but was by no means solid. The hollow at its core was large enough for a small child to stand up in. Some said it had been a gunpowder ship called the Lotty Sleigh exploding on the Mersey in 1864 that had split the tree asunder, but age had also played its part. Like an old man leaning on crutches, the oak’s boughs were held up by giant metal props to keep it from tearing itself in two.

‘This old gent would have been around long before Calderstones was a park and even before this land was part of a great estate – long before Calderstones Mansion was built. In fact, the tree is older than Liverpool itself,’ Sam said. He looked over towards one of the teachers. ‘Isn’t that right, Miss Jenkins?’

‘Yes, and when we get back to school we’ll be looking at some old maps which show how the area has changed over the centuries,’ she said.

Miss Jenkins was standing in amongst her class and when they had first met a year ago, Sam had thought her not long out of school herself. He had said as much to her and was surprised when she told him she was twenty-eight. The teacher was slightly built with dark hair and almond eyes that always seemed to be smiling and they were smiling at Sam now, making him uncomfortable. He scratched his tangled beard, which, in contrast to Miss Jenkins, made him look older than his years.

‘Why don’t you tell the children about the tree’s special powers, Mr McIntyre?’ she asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow. ‘Now you know I’m not supposed to do that.’

The statement sounded like the perfect ruse to leave the schoolchildren intrigued, but Sam had been told on numerous occasions by his managers not to make up stories but to keep to the script approved by the park ranger services. He was meant to explain how the tree was reputedly the medieval meeting place of the so-called Hundred Court, but that wasn’t going to impress a group of eight year olds. Sixteen faces – nineteen if you included the teaching staff – looked at him expectantly. What harm could it do? he asked himself.

‘Can you keep a secret?’

When the flurry of yeses ebbed away, Sam made a point of looking around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. ‘Legend has it that this is a Wishing Tree. For centuries, people have written down their secret desires and placed them inside the trunk.’

‘Where?’ someone asked.

Sam pointed to one of the gaping wounds in the trunk. ‘Right there.’

‘So you just stick a bit of paper in the tree. Then what?’ said the boy who had caught Sam’s attention earlier.

‘Manners, Matthew,’ Miss Jenkins scolded.

‘And then what, Mr McIntyre?’ he repeated, sounding even less interested in the answer than he had the first time he’d asked.

‘And then,’ Sam said before clearing his throat, stepping back, and opening up his arms. He tilted back his head. ‘You close your eyes and listen.’

‘To what?’ whispered one of the girls closest to him.

Matthew blew a raspberry and the whole group convulsed with laughter, even the teachers. Sam wasn’t sure how he kept his face straight but it helped that he still had his eyes closed and his face lifted towards the gargantuan spider’s web of branches. ‘You listen for the answer!’ he said, loud enough to shock the children into silence. ‘Listen to the tree’s creaks and groans and it will tell you if it’s going to grant your wish.’

‘Let’s do it,’ someone said and they all began scribbling on their clipboards. A few children compared notes and a couple of boys broke out into an argument, but after a few minutes they all held their wishes in their hands.

‘We can’t reach the hole,’ one of the boys said and they all looked at the railings that formed an impassable barrier.

‘I can,’ Matthew announced and before anyone could stop him, he had scrunched his note up into a ball and threw it with perfect aim into the hollow. A dozen or more paper balls rained down in quick succession, some hitting their mark while others littered the ground among the haze of bluebells surrounding the base of the tree.

Sam sighed as he looked over towards Miss Jenkins. ‘That’s why I’m not supposed to tell anyone,’ he explained.

The teacher held his gaze a little longer than was absolutely necessary. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.’

Sam smiled and shrugged off the comment. ‘It’s all right, the boss will be happy that I’ve added litter picking to my long list of duties, because I do everything else.’

‘Shush,’ one of the girls said in a loud whisper. ‘We haven’t listened for our answers yet.’

Matthew and a few of the boys grumbled amongst themselves but eventually they all raised their heads to listen to the tree. It was only then Sam noticed that the girl with blonde hair had slunk back into the shadows of her own making. She was the only child who didn’t lift her head.

‘Didn’t you want to make a wish, Jasmine?’ Miss Jenkins asked when she noticed too.

Jasmine shook her head. ‘My dad says I’m too old to believe in wishes now.’

The little girl wouldn’t be persuaded and so Sam wrapped things up by thanking the children for being so well behaved and encouraging them to come back to the park. He challenged them to give their families the same tour and to see how much they could remember. It was fast approaching lunchtime and the next stop for the children was a picnic, so they all began trooping off in the direction of the walled gardens. Miss Jenkins kept one eye on her class and the other on Sam.

‘I’d better go,’ she said without moving. ‘But if you’re still around later, I wouldn’t mind a quick catch up. I’d love to see the sketches you said you’ve been working on, if that’s all right?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he said, although he wasn’t in the least bit sure.

‘Good. Once I’ve loaded the kids back on the coach, I’ll come and hunt you down.’

The teacher’s words left him feeling slightly uneasy. He had left Edinburgh almost four years ago to make a fresh start, to begin a life that was a drastic deviation from the one he had once mapped out. He still hadn’t worked out what his new life should comprise of and his only ambition, which was a vague one at that, was not to give into the overwhelming desire to keep running away from everything – and that included very attractive young women.

Once the children and teachers were out of sight, Sam looked at the mess they had left. There was a padlocked gate to access the enclosure but he never carried the key so resorted to using a low-lying branch as leverage to climb over the railings. Before picking up the litter he stopped to rest his palm on the Wishing Tree, as if by doing so he would feel its pulse. Its bark felt warm, and as his skin melded into the wooded knots he imagined that the tree was attempting to ground him too. With his hand still pressed against the wood, he took a moment to look around, peering through the fir trees that crowded around the oak to catch glimpses of visitors pushing prams and walking dogs. He felt no connection with the world passing him by and was only aware of a constant fear that there was an axe poised somewhere out of sight, ready to cut him down – again.

Moving away, Sam wiped his hand on his trouser leg. ‘You shouldn’t be here, Sam,’ he muttered to himself as he imagined how much simpler life would be if he had chosen instead to hide away in the Highlands as a recluse. Gathering up the scraps of paper and stuffing them into his pocket, Sam had no interest in the fifteen wishes in his possession; he thought only of the one that was missing …

With his park ranger responsibilities at an end, Sam was forced to return to some of his more mundane duties, which today included potting bedding plants into various containers to brighten up the public areas around the Mansion House. Sam was a skilled horticulturist and had developed his craft working on grand estates in and around Edinburgh, and although the job in Liverpool wasn’t as senior or as well paid, it covered his living expenses and it offered its own challenges – working with inquisitive, entertaining, demanding and soul-destroying schoolchildren for one. But, in recent times, budget pressures had meant cutting back on nonessential services and Sam now spent more time on park maintenance than he did on ranger duties. In fact, the only way he managed to keep the service at Calderstones Park going at all was by volunteering some his time, but that wasn’t a problem for Sam McIntyre. He had plenty of time to give.

‘Have you had your lunch yet?’ Jack asked when Sam showed up in the courtyard to the rear of the old Coach House.

Sam gave his supervisor a shrug and proceeded to slip on his protective gloves. He picked up a spade, intent on helping Jack shovel compost into a wheelbarrow. ‘I’ll grab something later.’

‘Over there,’ Jack said, tipping his head towards a brown paper bag that had been left on top of an upturned plant pot. ‘Sheila made extra and I can’t go home with so much as a crust, especially since I might have mentioned how you’ve been skipping lunch lately. You know how she likes to mother you.’

Sam smiled and knew there was little point in arguing. He had met Jack’s wife only a handful of times and she was no older than he was, but she had felt compelled to take him under her wing. She had looked at him and recognized a lost soul who needed saving. Sam had seen the same thing that morning on the face of a little girl.

Taking his lunch, Sam chose a bench to the side of the Coach House and took out the small sketch pad he always kept with him. He had been working on the collection of illustrations for Miss Jenkins for weeks, having made the mistake of showing off his sketches one time and, as was so often the case, had agreed when she asked for a favour. He had promised to come up with some drawings to accompany the worksheets she was producing for a nature project.

And he wanted to impress her, even though he knew he was making a fool of himself. She was interested in his drawings and nothing more and that was probably for the best. Not allowing his mind to wander, Sam took out a pencil and worked on some last-minute touch-ups to sketches of pine cones and earwigs, daffodils and dandelions, seedlings and, of course, the Allerton Oak. He was working on one particular drawing of a family of ducks when someone banged into him. His hand jolted in surprise, adding a crooked smile to an unfortunate duckling.

‘Jasmine’s gone missing!’ Matthew said. He was with another boy and both were panting heavily. ‘Miss Jenkins is outside the Mansion House and she’s asked if you can help look for Jasmine.’

Sam abandoned his lunch and ran at full pelt towards the imposing nineteenth-century Mansion House that was one of the main focal points of the park, only slowing when he realized he was in danger of losing two other children. He waited for the boys to catch up and it tore at his heart not to speed off again. Eventually they reached the path between the house and the walled gardens where Miss Jenkins was watching over her depleted class.

‘Leon and Amy have gone looking for her,’ Miss Jenkins explained, referring to her teaching assistants, ‘but I feel so useless. I want to be looking too but I can’t leave this lot. Do you think we should call the police?’

There were gasps and a couple of girls began to sob.

‘Has she been missing long?’ Sam asked.

‘Ten, fifteen minutes.’ There was a flicker of guilt as Anna Jenkins added, ‘No one really noticed.’

‘Then yes, phone them!’

She looked hurt by Sam’s sharp tone and he wanted to tell her they were probably panicking over nothing but he didn’t; in his experience that wasn’t always true. He managed to soften his tone when he added, ‘OK, give it a few minutes. Wait here and I’ll take a look around too.’

They swapped mobile numbers and then Sam took off again at a sprint, his mind buzzing as countless scenarios came to mind, each of them pulling him in a different direction. For every large open space there were countless nooks and crannies for a child to disappear into and, God forbid, there was the lake too. There were also numerous outbuildings that had once been part of the landowner’s substantial estate; some were still in use while others had been abandoned, making them all the more enticing for a child with a mind to explore. And then there were the busy roads surrounding the park, the busiest being Menlove Avenue, which was where the school bus had disembarked. If Jasmine had decided to leave for whatever reason, she might head that way.

With his heart hammering in his chest, Sam bolted in that direction. Racing along the main throughway, he looked from left to right, desperate for some reassurance that she hadn’t left the park, and all the while the distant hum of traffic grew louder until it was deafening. He started to zigzag from one side of the path to the other and he was moving so fast that he went a dozen extra steps before his body was able to react to what he had just seen. He did an about turn and darted through the fir trees towards one of the park’s oldest occupants, which had not only captured his imagination.

Jasmine stood with her forehead resting on the railings as she stared at the exposed heart of the tree. The wood was rotting and crumbling along the exposed edges of the trunk where the mighty oak had split in two. She wished she could stand there all day watching over the tree and she didn’t think anyone would miss her if she did. Even her best friend, Keira, had been too busy swapping lunch with Jenna Rose to notice when she slipped away.

Wondering how cold and creepy the park might become if she stayed through the night, Jasmine looked up at the gnarled and twisted boughs above her. They reached out in every direction, some strong enough to support themselves while others needed the assistance of the metal props, reminding her of the crutch her mum had hobbled around on when she had fallen and broken her ankle last year. But it wasn’t the boughs lifted high out of reach that caught her attention, but the one that rested its weight on the railings to save it from falling to the ground.

When Jasmine touched the sagging branch, she could almost believe she was taking the old tree by the hand.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Do you mind if I get a bit closer?’

The Wishing Tree didn’t complain when she climbed along the branch; in fact, she was convinced it was giving her a helping hand. Once over the railings, she stepped carefully through the cloud of bluebells until she was within touching distance. She reached out her hand and placed her palm tentatively against the warm, wrinkled bark. When she flinched, she wasn’t sure if she had felt the tree’s pain or her own; it was as if the two had become intertwined …

Sam could see no more than a wisp of golden hair and the sleeve of her chequered school pinafore but there was no doubt in his mind that he had found Jasmine. He came to a halt twenty feet away from the Allerton Oak and took a deep, shuddering breath that caught in his throat. If he didn’t know better, it had sounded like a sob. This, he told himself, was why he wanted to be a recluse. People were too much of an emotional investment, and Sam was already spent.

As a seasoned runner, it didn’t take Sam long to catch his breath, but his pulse was still racing as he dipped beneath the shade of the oak. Jasmine was standing on the other side of the railings. She had her arms open wide and her eyes closed.

‘Can you hear anything?’ Sam asked.

The girl stumbled back in surprise and the notepad she had been holding dropped to the ground with a flutter of pink paper. ‘I didn’t do anything,’ she said, backing away.

‘Hey, it’s OK,’ he said. ‘And I’m sorry if I gave you a wee fright.’

The girl reluctantly collected up her things and clambered back over the railings while Sam remained at a safe distance. He waited until she was standing on the correct side of the barrier, her head bowed with guilt, before he broke the bad news. ‘I’m afraid you’ve got Miss Jenkins in a bit of a flap. I’d better ring her and let her know to call off the search.’

Jasmine’s head snapped up. ‘She won’t tell my dad, will she?’

The sudden look of horror on her face was difficult to ignore and Sam did his best not to reflect her concern but to give her a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he promised.

After making the call and telling Miss Jenkins they were heading straight back, Sam was as reluctant to escape the shade of the tree as was Jasmine. ‘So,’ he asked, ‘did you get a reply from the Wishing Tree?’

‘All I could hear was it groaning,’ she said before shaking her head. ‘I shouldn’t have done it.’

‘Run away?’

‘Asked for a wish,’ she corrected. ‘I think it does feel pain, you know.’

Sam considered telling her that the Wishing Tree was only a figment of his own imagination and that it was no more aware of their secret desires than the pink paper she had used to scribble her wish on. But one look at her told him that she needed something to believe in and so instead, he found himself saying, ‘I don’t think it feels its own pain, Jasmine, but there are times when I think it feels ours.’

Jasmine looked thoughtful for a moment as she glanced from Sam to the tree. ‘Maybe we should leave it in peace then,’ she said, and Sam didn’t argue.

Rather than welcome arms, Jasmine’s classmates greeted her with scowls as if disappointed that the drama had been drawn to a close without an exciting climax.

‘I wanted to see the scuba divers going into the lake,’ Matthew muttered as the teaching assistants gathered everyone into line for the final trek to the school bus.

Miss Jenkins was bringing up the rear and only when she’d finished counting her charges for the third time was she satisfied. ‘Sorry, I’m not going to have a chance to ask you about your sketches now,’ she told Sam. ‘We’re late getting back as it is.’

‘I could always drop them off at school for you,’ he offered.

She tilted her head and snared him with her smiling eyes. ‘I do have a life outside school, you know.’

Anna Jenkins was ten years his junior and although he could remember being thirty, he had nothing in common with the man he had been back then and for the life of him couldn’t see what this young woman saw in him, assuming she was interested at all. The answer to that question came soon enough when she added, ‘You have my number, Mr McIntyre. Why don’t you invite me out some place where I can call you Sam and you can call me Anna?’

The flush rising in his cheeks was obscured by his beard, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Anna could feel the heat of his embarrassment. His eyes darted from left to right until he found his means of escape. Gesturing towards the fully loaded bus, he said, ‘I think your group’s about to lose their teacher if you don’t hurry up.’

Anna was forced to leave without receiving her answer and voiced her regret at not casting her own wish into the Wishing Tree.




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Sam’s flat: Wednesday 7 October 2015


‘It seems like Jasmine made quite an impression on you,’ Harper said.

The detective had remained standing in the middle of the room, his feet wide apart and hands shoved in his trouser pockets as he looked at Sam with his head cocked to one side. He couldn’t yet appreciate the effect Jasmine had had on Sam – and why would he? Sam had been deliberately vague about that first meeting, skimming over the details of the Wishing Tree story, playing down Jasmine’s earlier disappearance and only briefly mentioning that she had made a wish. But he wasn’t the only one who knew more than he was letting on. Sam couldn’t yet tell how much Harper had been told and so, for the moment at least, he would have to be cautious about volunteering any information that might only add more substance to the detective’s potted theories. It wouldn’t bring the little girl home to her mum any sooner.

‘She was just a lost little girl,’ he offered.

‘Until you found her.’

An image came to mind of Jasmine standing amongst her classmates beneath the Allerton Oak. She had looked so insubstantial that Sam had thought that if he blinked she might have disappeared completely. ‘She must have run away again,’ he said with unshakeable conviction.

‘Why do you say that?’

Sam blinked, and this time Jasmine did disappear. ‘Because the alternative is unthinkable.’

Harper stared at the polished floor and battled with his own thoughts. ‘I hope you’re right, Mr McIntyre, but in my line of business the unthinkable happens more often than you’d imagine.’

Sam was starting to cool down after his run and his sweat-sodden T-shirt felt ice cold against his skin but when he shuddered, it had nothing to do with the temperature. His mouth was so dry he could barely speak. ‘Can I get a drink of water?’ he asked, already getting up from the dining table.

Harper stopped him. ‘We’ll sort that,’ he said and nodded towards the uniformed policeman who had been standing guard by the one and only means of escape.

‘Thanks,’ Sam said, not quite sure why he should be grateful for the offer of a glass of water in his own home. What was quite clear, however, was that the police were making their presence felt that little bit more.

As he waited for his drink, Sam played nervously with the green square of origami paper. If he weren’t careful he would start folding it into the shape of a crane, so he pushed it out of reach and clasped his hands together …

‘Now,’ Harper continued, ‘tell me why one little girl amongst an entire class should catch your eye.’

Sam refused to be goaded. ‘Shouldn’t you be out searching for her rather than wasting time with me, for pity’s sake?’ he asked.

Harper didn’t appear fazed by Sam’s reaction and took a step towards the bookshelves, which held little more than a thin scattering of books and journals. He briefly scanned the titles, which were exclusively related to gardening and horticulture, then his eyes settled on a shoebox that had been decorated in brightly coloured paper squares.

‘Look,’ Sam said, ‘I want to help. If Jasmine’s missing, then I’ll do anything I can. When was she last seen? Where was she?’

When Harper turned back to Sam, he was smiling – although perhaps smirking might have been a better description. ‘And there I was thinking I was the one asking the questions.’

Sam offered up his hands in supplication. ‘Fine, ask away.’

Harper moved closer to Sam and rested his hands on the back of a dining chair but didn’t take a seat. ‘What I’d really like to know, Mr McIntyre, is how you became so deeply involved in her life so quickly? And, perhaps more importantly, why?’

From the kitchen, Sam could hear the other policeman talking to the dog, offering to refill his water bowl while Sam was left waiting. His lips were painfully parched and if Harper wanted answers, he needed that drink. Not that Sam had any idea how to answer the detective’s question. Why had he become so involved? Would Jasmine be missing now if he’d had the good sense to stay away? He refused to let his gaze be drawn to the bookshelf and the shoebox which contained a growing collection of origami cranes; paper birds of varying colours and sizes. Some were pink …




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Thursday 23 April 2015


The spring day was still clinging to the sunshine when Sam set off for home, although he had somehow managed to take the shadow of the Allerton Oak with him. He liked his job and, within certain boundaries, he enjoyed being around people. Up until today he had thought that the limited contact had come without risk, but when the girl had gone missing, when he had raced through the park with his heart pounding with terror, he had realized he wasn’t as insulated as he had thought. He was starting to think that the cutbacks at work that pulled him away from his ranger duties were a blessing in disguise. Planting, sowing, pruning … these were far safer activities, where the only casualties would be seedlings lost to the frost. Perhaps he should speak to Jack about giving up the tours so he could put all his energies into the job he was actually being paid to do.

Calderstones Park was close enough to walk the short distance home and he strolled up the hill with his head down and his hands in his pockets. When he stepped onto the drive, he found Selina busily dusting the windowsills. The wiry and wily octogenarian was barely five foot tall and with the sills almost at head height, cleaning them was a difficult and somewhat pointless task. She pretended not to hear the heavy clomp of his work boots on the block paving and gave a start when Sam tickled her waist.

Swiping him with her duster, she cried, ‘Sam, you gave me a fright!’

‘What are you doing, Selina? I told you I’d wash the windows at the weekend.’

She twisted the duster in her fingers, which were swollen with arthritis. ‘Oh, I can’t sit inside on such a lovely day,’ she said, ‘and I can’t sit in the garden doing nothing. You don’t exactly leave me much to do, but staying busy is what keeps me alive.’

‘That and the whisky,’ he said smiling.

She swiped him again. ‘I’ve told you, it’s medicinal.’

Sam laughed. ‘Anyone who’s reached the ripe old age of … What is it now? Sixty?’ he asked, deliberately knocking quarter of a century off his landlady’s age. ‘You deserve at least one vice, Selina.’

‘For that compliment, I’ll have to invite you to dinner. I’ve made a lovely cottage pie and it’ll go to waste if you don’t help me eat it.’

Sam had moved into his lodgings soon after arriving in Liverpool and the setup had suited him perfectly. Selina was a widow and had converted her oversized house into two separate apartments many years ago. She lived on the ground floor while renting out the upper level. There was a basement that could easily be converted if she wanted another lodger but Sam’s rent was sufficient to plug the gap in her income and they were comfortable in each other’s company. They liked their own space while knowing there was another living being close by. Over time, they had let their lives overlap far more than either intended, although they respected each other’s privacy. Selina wouldn’t push her offer for dinner or be offended by Sam’s refusal, which he gave rather reluctantly.

‘I’m sorry, Selina, can I give you a rain check? It’s been a tough day and I want to go for a run. I need to clear my head.’

‘I understand,’ she said with a nod. ‘I’d go with you if these hips didn’t keep seizing up on me. I’ll put some dinner on a plate for you and you can heat it up when you get back.’

‘Thank you, you’re a sweetheart.’

The old lady tried not to let the worry show on her face when she said, ‘And don’t stay out too long. You don’t want to wear yourself out or you’ll be needing a hip replacement before I do.’

‘I won’t go too far,’ Sam said but it was at best a half-truth. He would probably be out for a good hour at least and still it wouldn’t be long enough. He had spent years trying to outrun himself and tonight he would fail once again.

Later, as Sam dragged himself up the stairs, his legs felt leaden and his T-shirt was soaked in sweat but it was only when he entered his apartment and checked the clock that he realized he had been out for at least an hour and a half. He went into the kitchen, which was little more than a cubbyhole with enough room for a cooker, fridge and sink but little else. It was sufficient for his needs which right now involved the bottle of water he had left to cool in the fridge. He poured a glass and downed it in one then quickly refilled it before resting it on his forehead to cool down.

By the time he made his way back to the living room, his pulse had begun to slow. He felt completely depleted which wasn’t a bad feeling; in fact it was the reason he pushed himself so hard. The exercise gave him time to get his thoughts in order and left him too tired afterwards to let them wind him up again. He went out for a run at least three times a week whatever the weather although the distance depended on his state of mind.

As he took a sip of water, a beeping noise caught his attention. It was a voicemail alert on his mobile, which he had left on the dining table. He checked the missed call, stared at the caller ID for a second or two, and then deleted the message.

By the time Sam had showered and changed, it was eight o’clock. He didn’t feel hungry at all, despite his stomach rumbling, but he knew he would have to eat something and it wouldn’t be his choice. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.

‘Perfect timing,’ he said opening the door to Selina who was holding a tray. The cottage pie was so hot it was steaming.

‘Hungry?’ she asked as she marched past him.

‘Famished,’ he lied.

He left Selina in the living room and marched back into the kitchen.

‘I won’t stay if you want time on your own,’ she called after him as she set about laying the table. Along with his dinner, she had brought all the condiments and a slice of cake for afters.

Sam emerged from the kitchen with two cans of brown ale. ‘Could I tempt you?’ he asked, already knowing his old friend wouldn’t refuse. The ale was more to her taste than his and he kept a supply in the fridge as repayment for the countless offerings she served up.

As Sam tucked into his dinner, Selina occupied herself by flicking through the sketch pad he had left lying around. He watched her suspiciously. They knew each other better than either was willing to acknowledge. Selina had listened out for him returning home from his run; she had heard the shower running and had known how long to give him to get dressed before bringing the dinner he wouldn’t have bothered to heat up for himself. She knew how he worked, just like he knew how she did. Selina had something to say but was biding her time.

Putting down the pad, she turned her attention to a small heap of scrunched-up balls of paper. ‘What are these?’ she asked, picking one up.

‘Don’t,’ he said, when he saw her about to unfurl it. When she raised an eyebrow, he added, ‘I gave a tour to a group of school kids today and made the mistake of telling them about the Wishing Tree. They’re the children’s wishes.’

‘So why bring them home if you’re not going to look at them?’

Sam’s eye was drawn to one particular ball of paper. It was the only pink one in the pile. ‘Hiding the evidence?’ he tried.

Selina took a sip of her ale straight from the can; they had long since dispensed with social niceties in each other’s company. She smiled when she said, ‘You want to look, don’t you?’

‘I shouldn’t,’ he said, but having cleared his plate, he set the tray to one side and let Selina gather up the wishes to place between the two of them. They each took a handful but only Sam was selective, making sure he held onto the only one he really wanted to read.

‘A PlayStation,’ she said rolling her eyes.

‘A bike,’ Sam said, equally unimpressed.

They took it in turns to read out the rest which were equally uninspiring until Selina found one that made her laugh so hard she had to take a sip of ale before speaking. ‘I’d like you to drop a branch on the bearded wonder’s head!’ she read, still crying with laughter.

Sam was at first shocked that one of those nice children would think such a thing but then remembered Matthew. ‘Cheeky sod,’ he said.

‘What about that one?’ Selina asked. She had noticed the pink ball of paper that Sam had palmed but was reluctant to open.

‘I don’t know if I should,’ he said and then went on to explain how Jasmine had gone missing and how he had found her making her wish in secret.

‘She’s got to you, hasn’t she?’ The mischievous smile had disappeared and there was a pained look on the old lady’s face. ‘Could it be that she reminds you of someone?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m overthinking things, that’s all. I’d like to believe her wish would be something important, but more likely than not she’s just another young lass who wants to grow up to be a film star. I’d rather leave it unopened and avoid the disappointment.’

Selina offered up her palm. ‘Let me,’ she said. When Sam didn’t respond, she added, ‘You can’t fool me, Sam. You’ve cleared up the mess after telling that Wishing Tree story plenty of times but you’ve never brought the notes home with you before. Maybe you don’t want to read it – but you want to know what’s in it. If you feel it’s against your principles then let me look. Believe me, my conscience has had to deal with far worse.’

Reluctantly, Sam dropped the ball of pink paper into her hand but he couldn’t watch as she flattened the creased paper to reveal its secrets. ‘Ah, bless her,’ Selina said. She waited for Sam to look up from the can he had been peering into. ‘She wants a job for her dad.’

‘Really?’

Sam took the unfolded piece of paper from Selina and stared at it as he tried to keep up with his emotions. He had known the serious little girl wouldn’t have wished for something trivial and felt vindicated, although now he had to deal with the consequences of giving her a dream to hang her hopes upon.

‘I feel guilty,’ he admitted. ‘I spun her a story and now she’s expecting the Wishing Tree to grant her wish.’

Selina shrugged. ‘You never know, chances are her dad will get a job anyway.’ When it became clear his conscience couldn’t be eased, she added, ‘We’re supposed to tell children white lies, Sam. Childhood has equal measures of reality and fantasy and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. If she believes in the Wishing Tree then she still believes in a world where good overcomes evil and we all find our happy endings. What’s so terrible in that?’

‘Because it’s not true,’ he said, not thinking of Jasmine any more but his own sorry existence.

Selina chose her moment perfectly. ‘Your wife phoned,’ she said.

‘Ex-wife,’ he corrected. ‘She left me a voicemail message. I didn’t play it back and—’ He stopped, only now realizing what Selina had meant. ‘She phoned you too?’

She nodded. ‘When you were out on your run. She thought you might not listen to the message so she asked me to tell you.’

The break-up of Sam’s marriage had been amicable enough. For the last two years of their marriage, they had barely talked and so he had decided to walk away before they learnt to hate each other. That had been four years ago and, after leaving Edinburgh, he had initially broken off all communication with Kirsten. They had only finalized the divorce a year ago when she had come down to Liverpool to agree the terms. That was when she had met Selina and his landlady had learned more about her lodger in a single weekend than in all the time they had been living under the same roof together.

Sam busied himself flattening out the pink square of paper in his hand before folding it carefully, this way and that. He took care with the corners and pressed down the creases with practised ease. ‘What did she have to say for herself?’ he asked at last.

‘She’s …’ The old lady paused long enough for Sam to lift his gaze. ‘She’s getting married come September.’

Sam tried to smile. It could have been worse. ‘I thought the next time she’d phone would be to tell me she was pregnant.’ He continued turning and folding the paper until he was ready to unfurl the wings of his origami crane. ‘I suppose that will come next. She’s moving on.’

‘You might be right,’ Selina agreed, ‘but it can’t be easy.’

‘Really? Do you think I don’t already know that?’ Sam asked, although it wasn’t a question, but a suggestion of the anger building inside him, anger that would have been directed at his ex-wife if he had spoken to her. She wouldn’t have deserved his wrath and he was glad he hadn’t spoken to her directly. He raised his hand to stop Selina replying. ‘Sorry, that was unfair.’

‘She knew you would find it hard, which is why she asked me to break the habit of a lifetime and interfere.’

Sam smiled as he turned the paper crane over in his hand. He had travelled hundreds of miles in an attempt to escape the past but it was the woman he had left behind in Edinburgh who had managed to find a way to move forward. Perhaps he should follow her example.

‘I’ve been asked out on a date,’ he said, knowing full well that Selina would give him the final push he needed.

‘Is she nice?’

‘Out of my league,’ Sam said, thinking of Anna’s dazzling smile and sparkling eyes that saw in Sam something he could not. He scratched his beard. ‘I might have thought I stood a chance once, but I’m not the man I was. I think she’s going to be disappointed.’

‘That’s the problem with you, Sam McIntyre. You think too much.’




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Saturday 2 May 2015


Sam had thought Anna pretty when they had first met, but when she walked into the restaurant she looked stunning. Her dark hair had been swept to one side, falling softly over her shoulders, and the black-and-white sleeveless jersey dress hugged her figure dangerously. Following Selina’s advice, Sam had gone for a smart casual look and, wearing chinos and a checked shirt, felt distinctly underdressed. They were in a lively Indian restaurant in Woolton Village and even if the other diners weren’t wondering what an odd pairing they made, Sam was.

‘You found it all right then?’ he asked standing up to pull out Anna’s chair for her.

Anna assumed Sam was getting up to give her a kiss and offered her cheek. There was an awkward moment where Sam didn’t know what to do and by the time he plucked up the courage to kiss her, she had moved away and the fumbling only added to his nerves.

‘Yes, I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. I love Indian food.’ She took her seat and watched Sam intently as he struggled to settle back in his chair. ‘You don’t do this often, do you?’

‘No,’ he admitted, ‘I’m more used to heating something up in the microwave. In fact, if it wasn’t for the Christmas do at work every year, I don’t think I’d eat out at all.’ The traditional Christmas dinner dance was one of those annual events that Sam forced himself to attend if only to prove that he could socialize, although without fail he would slip away while the plates were still being cleared.

Anna was laughing at him. ‘I meant going out on a date.’

Hearing the word date only compounded Sam’s anxiety. ‘Oh, erm, yes. I doubt I could even remember the last time,’ he said, which was only partly true. He wondered at what point going out with the woman who was to become his wife could still be considered a date.

‘Well, try not to worry,’ she said softly. ‘Things won’t have changed that much. The idea is that we both relax and enjoy ourselves. No expectations, no strings attached – and before we order our food, I want to make one thing clear: we split the bill.’ When Sam looked horrified, she laughed again. ‘What? Were you expecting me to pay for everything? I thought it was just a myth that Scotsmen were tight-fisted?’

Sam couldn’t help laughing, which settled his nerves, if only a little. ‘You know that wasn’t what I was thinking at all. And while I don’t want to start the evening with an argument, I have to insist on paying. It wouldn’t be right.’

Anna scrutinized his face. ‘OK, but only if I’m allowed to pay next time.’ Before Sam could object she was extending her hand towards him so they could shake on the deal.

They placed their orders for food and soon after the waiter brought their drinks. Sam had ordered a pint and was tempted to down it in one but made do with generous gulps as Anna sipped her wine. ‘So what made you come to Liverpool in the first place?’ she asked.

‘I was travelling through,’ he said, although travelling aimlessly might have been a better description. ‘And then I somehow fell into a job I enjoyed, found a nice place to stay and so here I am, still here four years later.’

‘And yet you haven’t put down roots.’

‘What do you think I do for a living?’ he asked.

The waiter arrived with their starters and they sat in silence for a while. From the look on Anna’s face, she was waiting for a proper answer, which he did his best to ignore. As the silence stretched in front of them, he was forced to accept that they risked spending the rest of the evening sidestepping the past unless he shared at least some of the baggage he carried with him. He wasn’t good at sharing information, but accepted that the sooner he got it out of the way, the sooner he could give his undivided attention to the beautiful young woman sitting opposite him.

‘I lived in Edinburgh all my life, right up until the day I decided to leave. My marriage of fifteen years was over bar the shouting and I decided that I wouldn’t hang around long enough for that to happen. I left and I haven’t been back since.’

‘I take it there were no kids, then?’

Sam felt every nerve in his body tense but his voice was surprisingly level and gave no clue to his real feelings. ‘The divorce, unlike the marriage, was uncomplicated.’

‘You’re very fortunate; in my line of business you see the fallout to a lot of acrimonious divorces,’ Anna said. ‘But here you are, young, free and single.’

The laugh wouldn’t come but he managed a smile. ‘Young?’

She shrugged. ‘I have a sneaking suspicion that there’s a youthful complexion underneath that beard. You might think you can hide behind it, but I see you, Sam McIntyre.’

‘You think I should shave it off,’ he concluded.

Anna tore at a piece of naan bread then pushed back on her chair as she took a bite. She considered her response before she said, ‘Unlike you, I have plenty of experience of the dating game. My last relationship ended three months ago and now I’m back home, living with my mum and dad, with my ex-boyfriend’s words ringing in my ears. He told me in great detail how I tried to change him rather than adapt, and while I think that was a little unfair, there was some truth in what he said and I intend to learn from my mistakes, Sam. If you like your beard then far be it from me to tell you how much better looking you’d be without it.’

Sam wasn’t sure how to take Anna but her honesty was refreshing and as she had been keen to point out, they were out to enjoy themselves; that was all. If something came of it then that would be more than nice. It had been a long time since Sam had had some excitement in his life and he couldn’t deny that he missed it. And if things didn’t work out then Sam could return unharmed to his comfort zone. ‘So you don’t like it, then?’ he asked her with the broadest smile.

‘Oh, now you’ll definitely have to keep it,’ she exclaimed. ‘Otherwise I’ll think I’ve pressurized you and that would make me feel awful.’

Their chatter continued as their main courses were served and eventually the conversation turned to the one thing they had in common. ‘I’m sorry I ever got you to mention that Wishing Tree story,’ Anna admitted. ‘I never imagined the trouble it would cause – other than a bit of littering, maybe.’ There was a mischievous glint in her eye but it quickly disappeared. ‘We were so busy focusing our attention on the kids we expected to misbehave that we let one of the quiet ones slip through the net.’

‘Did she get in trouble?’

‘Jasmine? No, it was me who got hauled over the coals!’

Sam didn’t look moved. ‘Don’t expect sympathy from me when I was the one left to clear up after you all.’

‘Sorry, was there much of a mess?’

Sam thought of the screwed-up ball of pink paper which he had transformed into a soaring paper bird when he said, ‘It’s all in a day’s work – and the way things are at the moment, I suppose I should just be glad I’ve got a job.’

‘Actually, I think that could be behind Jasmine’s behaviour,’ Anna said, making the link with Sam’s comment far more quickly than he could have hoped. ‘Her dad was laid off a few months ago and since then she seems to have slunk deeper into the shadows. I wouldn’t have thought the family are in dire straits; her mum still works but that might be part of the problem. They both worked at a builders’ merchants but only she got to keep her job. They’re not a happy family by any stretch of the imagination.’

‘You sound like you know them quite well.’

‘Oh, only to say hello to really. I see Laura – the mother – at parents’ evenings and they don’t live too far from where my parents live so I’ve seen them around. Jasmine’s dad, Finn, drinks in the King’s Arms and I think he’s practically living there these days.’

Thinking how the troubled girl could have more disappointment in store when the Wishing Tree failed to deliver her heart’s desire made Sam lose his appetite. He didn’t want to hear any more and began playing with his food, a curry that was so hot it had made his eyes water.

Anna watched him chase the same piece of lamb around his plate until she stabbed at it with her fork. ‘Sorry, you’ll have to get used to this,’ she said. ‘If I see something I like, I go for it.’

Sam waited for her eyes to start watering but Anna dealt with the spiced heat better than he had. ‘I’m impressed,’ he said.

‘That was the plan,’ she confessed.




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Sam’s flat: Wednesday 7 October 2015


‘It was through Anna that I got to know the family,’ Sam told Harper.

‘And Anna would be Jasmine’s teacher?’

Pursing his dried lips, the skin tore when Sam opened his mouth to speak. He was tiring of the cat-and-mouse game Harper was playing and said, ‘You already know she is.’

‘Yes, of course, Anna Jenkins. The girlfriend,’ Harper said and then began leafing through his notebook, although Sam suspected it was more for effect than to check any particular facts.

The silence that followed made Sam uncomfortable, as Harper no doubt intended. Sam was becoming impatient for a drink to quench his thirst and was ready to stand up to get it himself, when the uniformed policeman reappeared with his long-awaited glass of water. Jasper had been following him, but stopped at the doorway when he saw Harper standing over Sam. The puppy looked to his master for comfort then shivered nervously.

‘Go lie down, boy,’ Sam told him softly but firmly.

Jasper took a hesitant step forward as if he were going to ignore the command but then, dipping his head, he disappeared back into the kitchen. There was the brief sound of scratching as the puppy settled into his bed.

‘I couldn’t help notice that all your cupboards are bare, Mr McIntyre,’ the police officer said as he handed Sam the glass.

Harper looked up from his notes. ‘Really?’ he asked and shared a look with the other man before writing something down. When he looked up again, he said, ‘Right, Mr McIntyre, back to this morning. You left the house when?’

Sam had been expecting a whole new set of questions but relaxed a little. After taking a long drink, he said, ‘About ten o’clock, maybe ten thirty.’

‘Not before?’

‘I’ve already told you. No.’

‘And is there anyone who can corroborate your story?’

‘It’s not a story, and no, I can’t.’

‘Not your landlady?’

‘I haven’t seen Selina this morning. I heard her leave, maybe an hour before me.’

‘And do you know where she is now?’

Sam craned his neck to look out of the window. The parking space next to his Land Rover remained empty. ‘No,’ he said.

‘And no one else lives in the house?’

‘No.’

Harper was looking around the room again. ‘No offence, but it hardly looks like even you live here. Has Jasmine ever visited?’

‘No, never.’

‘You met her quite often in the park, though.’

‘A few times, yes.’

‘And the last time you saw her was …’ Harper said, pausing to consult his notes, ‘two weeks ago. Where was that?’

‘At the park,’ Sam said.

‘Where in the park?’

‘By the—’ Sam went to say Wishing Tree and only just stopped himself. ‘By the Allerton Oak.’

Harper tapped a pen against his notepad and then took a quick breath as if a thought had only just occurred to him. ‘Ah, yes, I’d almost forgotten about the Wishing Tree. Is there a reason why you haven’t yet mentioned that you knew about Jasmine’s wish to find a job for her dad, Mr McIntyre? Or why you felt compelled to fulfil it?’




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Friday 29 May 2015


Heading away from the Mansion House, Sam and Jack looked up at the same time as the sun made a late appearance through the slate grey cloud that had hung over Calderstones all day. Lifted from the shadows, the park came to life; the verdant greens of the lawns and foliage took on a new vibrancy and the late spring blooms were dazzling.

Sam shook his head. ‘Now the sun decides to come out! If they’d hung around a bit longer, they would have seen the gardens in all their glory,’ he muttered, referring to the group of councillors who had been touring the city’s parks to help decide how best to use some recently acquired European funding. Sam had helped Jack put together a project for Calderstones that, amongst other things, would reinstate the full-time role of park ranger.

‘Oh, I don’t think a bit of sunshine would change anything,’ Jack said. ‘You mentioning how you volunteer your time out of hours – now that didn’t help our cause. Why pay for a ranger when there’s someone daft enough to do it for free?’

‘They have to know the service is still needed, still used.’

‘Sorry, I know it’s your baby and good on you for keeping it going,’ Jack said. When he saw Sam’s jaw clench, he put his hand on his shoulder. ‘You need to find something else in your life, mate. No one should love their job as much as you do. It’s not natural!’

Sam tried to look offended but then smiled. ‘Someone has to keep this place going while there are so many others leaving like rats from a sinking ship.’

Jack bowed his head a little. ‘I never thought I’d be one of them, but I would have been mad not to take the job when it came up. And I’ll be honest, I’m looking forward to having a landscaping budget that won’t be slashed before I’ve signed off the first order.’

‘You know what they say about the grass being greener,’ Sam warned, although his heart wasn’t in it. Jack’s new job as landscaper for a construction company sounded ideal for his friend and he wished him well.

‘I know, and between you and me, I’m terrified. I’m already working up my first scheme and I’m going to have to put a team together pretty quickly when I start in a few weeks. I want to hit the ground running so if you’re looking to move on yourself …?’

Sam was already shaking his head. ‘No, thanks,’ he said, and then his words caught in his throat as a thought struck him. ‘But if you’re taking people on, give me a shout. I may be able to put someone your way, if only for general labour.’

‘Sure, but it was you I was after, Sam.’

‘Sorry, Jack. I’m not looking for a new challenge. I’m happy where I am, you know that.’

‘You’re easily pleased, I’ll give you that. You don’t ask much from life, do you, Sam?’

It was a rhetorical question and a subject that Jack had raised regularly. He couldn’t accept that Sam should be content with his minimalist existence. ‘Would it shut you up for once if I told you that I’m courting a young lass?’

Jack came to a stop and began stumbling over his words. ‘You’re joking? You? No, I don’t believe it. Sam McIntyre has actually asked someone out on a date?’ he asked, then laughed when he caught the look on Sam’s face. ‘She asked you out, didn’t she?’

‘Anna,’ Sam said by way of an answer. ‘One of the teachers from St Mary’s. We’ve gone out a few times.’

‘So it’s serious, then?’

‘It’s a handful of dates,’ Sam corrected. He wasn’t yet sure if he was doing the right thing. He couldn’t deny he was enjoying Anna’s company and looked forward to their dates, but there was a long way to go before he would feel worthy of stepping out with a young, beautiful woman on his arm. The first time they had kissed, Sam had wanted to pull back and ask Anna if she was really sure she knew what she was doing, but he hadn’t been able to resist her, which she undoubtedly knew.

They carried on walking towards the main gate and Sam was too busy squirming under Jack’s cross-examination to even register that he was looking over in the direction of the Allerton Oak, not until he saw a small figure running away, her blonde hair billowing in the breeze like the sail of a ship. A month had passed since he had seen Jasmine, although she had played on his mind more than he would like to admit. She might not have realized but she had put her trust in Sam by believing everything he had told her, just like another little girl had once done, and he didn’t want to be proven a liar, not again.

‘Why don’t you invite Anna to my leaving do?’ Jack was saying. ‘It’s only a few drinks, no pressure, and the pub has plenty of exits in case the interrogation gets too much for you. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is going to want to meet her, including Sheila, and my wife will not forgive you if you don’t come.’

‘Maybe,’ Sam said, but he wasn’t even listening now. He made a rash promise to ask Anna along and then told Jack he had remembered something that needed checking before he headed home.

By the time Sam reached the tree, the only sign that the girl had even been there was a small ball of pink paper. When he read the note, it tore at his tender heart.

To my Wishing Tree,

I’m sorry Tree! You’re too old to be granting a stupid wish from a stupider girl so please don’t feel bad about it.

And I’m not making any more wishes because I’m going to help Mum and Dad myself. I don’t even care if I have to work all day and never ever sleep and I can’t sleep anyway because I keep hearing Mum crying. I’m going to make Mum and Dad brekfast I’m going to make Mum smile and maybe Dad will see I’m not a useless lump like he says and he’ll be happier too.

So don’t worry about the job for Dad and if you do have any power left to grant wishes then use it to make yourself better. I know you still hurt.

With all my love,

Jasmine xxx

Sam thought there was more than enough light in the apartment, but at Anna’s insistence he got up and moved towards the door where his finger hovered over the light switch. The cooling sun remained strong enough to pick out the scattered pieces of furniture and the slender figure of the woman who had arrived like a tornado in his life, spinning his head and his emotions and, at that particular moment, scattering pieces of paper across the dining table.

Anna’s dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders and she had a daisy tucked behind her ear, taken from the posy he had given her earlier. She had put the rest of the flowers in a pint glass, the nearest alternative he had to a vase, and they had been placed in the centre of the table while they ate dinner, only to be relegated to the window ledge once they began looking at Sam’s drawings. Anna opened up another sketch book now and squinted at the first page, only then noticing Sam’s prevarication. When she fixed him with her steely glare, he was forced into action and flicked the light switch, which chased away the shadows he hadn’t even been aware existed.

‘Let’s spread ourselves out,’ she said.

Scooping up a pile of Sam’s drawings, Anna proceeded to lay them out on the vast open space provided by the apartment’s bare, polished floorboards. Next she picked up the two wine glasses from the dining table and motioned Sam to sit amongst his drawings before joining him.

‘You have to do something with these,’ she told him. ‘And I don’t mean pasting them onto a worksheet for the Year Fours.’ Her eyes soaked up every detail of the countless sketches of squirrels and magpies, primroses and azaleas. He had even found beauty in the litter strewn along the paths, but his most impressive collection of sketches was of the thousand-year-old tree. Sam had recorded its life through the seasons, up close and from a distance. In one he had drawn bare branches that exposed its age, and in another captured its strength as it raised its heavy, green canopy towards the life-giving sun.

‘Such as?’

Anna lined up the sketches of the tree. ‘We could create a story about the Wishing Tree.’

‘We?’

Taking a sip of wine, Anna was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I could write it and you could do the illustrations. We could make it into a book and even if we couldn’t get a book deal, we could self-publish.’

Sam scratched his beard. ‘Yeah, and circulate the story so even more kids can come along to throw litter at the tree.’

‘We could adapt the story so that the wishes don’t need to be written down.’ She nudged him. ‘You should bear that in mind next time I make you tell the story. Just tell the kids they have to touch a branch and it will read their mind and hey presto, no litter.’

The frown had appeared on Sam’s face before he had a chance to hide it.

‘What?’

‘I don’t want to give the children false hope,’ he said. He looked into Anna’s eyes and tried to soak up her enthusiasm, but his conscience wouldn’t be eased as he thought of a small shoebox he kept tucked beneath his bed out of sight. It was decorated with sheets of origami squares and was one of the more colourful of his possessions, if not the most precious. It was where he kept all the paper cranes he had made over the years, hundreds of them … and the last two were made from bright pink paper; one containing a wish and the other a declaration that had felt more like a plea aimed directly at Sam’s heart. While he understood that feeble wishes were no replacement for action, he couldn’t leave such a burden on the shoulders of an eight-year-old child.

Every time he met Anna, he had wanted to hear news of the little girl, but so far he had resisted asking directly and, of course, Jasmine was not one of Miss Jenkins’ most notorious pupils and so hadn’t been mentioned since their first date.

Anna put down her glass and inveigled herself into Sam’s arms with little resistance. ‘Is it such a bad thing to have a little magic in our lives?’

The warmth of her body melted Sam’s resolve and he found himself saying, ‘What about that girl who went missing from your class? She went home thinking her dad was going to get a job because she had asked the tree.’

‘You read her wish?’ Anna asked. She had placed her hand on his face and, feeling the glow of his cheeks, found her answer.

‘I’m sorry I did now because I feel responsible,’ he confessed. ‘Which is why I’ve been thinking of a way I might be able to help.’

Sam then went on to tell Anna about Jack’s plans and how he might be persuaded to offer Jasmine’s dad some work. Anna confirmed that Finn was still a regular in the pub so she didn’t think he had found a job yet. Sam already knew this from Jasmine’s second note but he said nothing; he had shared enough of her secrets and would share no more.

‘Maybe that tree of yours does have special powers after all. What if it wasn’t a coincidence that you found a job opportunity? Maybe you’re a vessel, carrying out the tree’s wishes,’ Anna said. She was trying to sound mystical but the effect was lost when she laughed.

Sam wasn’t about to be drawn into a world of the supernatural but neither was he ready to give up on the idea of granting a little girl’s wish. ‘So will you help me then?’

‘Seriously?’

‘You know this Finn a bit, so you could engineer a meeting,’ he said as if the idea had only just occurred. ‘I’m going to Jack’s leaving do in a couple of weeks. We could meet up in the King’s Arms first and, if the gods are on our side, Finn might be there too. I could mention where I’m going and drop into the conversation how my pal is taking on labourers. You said he worked in a builders’ merchants so I’m guessing he’s got some transferrable skills that Jack could put to good use.’

‘You’ve got this all worked out, haven’t you?’ she asked as she took the glass from Sam’s hand and set it down on the floor next to her own. She leant into him, pushing him back until he was pinned down against the hard surface of the floorboards. Anna’s body was supplicant by contrast but just as immovable. ‘So am I invited to this leaving do?’

‘Actually, Jack did mention it, but I thought it would be a bit too soon,’ he added, not sure if he was still talking about the invitation. Their relationship so far had amounted to only half a dozen dates and while there was plenty of kissing, they hadn’t taken it further, not yet.

‘I would like to meet your friends,’ Anna said as she leaned in to brush her lips lightly over his. ‘I’d like to get to know you so much better.’ She kissed him briefly.

He wanted Anna, of that there was no doubt, but there would always be a part of Sam that resisted getting closer emotionally. But Anna was already close physically and he had no desire to push her away.

‘Invite me, Sam,’ she whispered in his ear.

Aware that Anna hadn’t agreed to help with Jasmine’s wish yet, Sam was done for. ‘Do I have a choice?’ he asked.

Anna could sense victory and kissed him again, more deeply this time. When she lifted her head, her nose was wrinkled. Pulling the flower from her hair, she trailed it across Sam’s chin. ‘That beard of yours is going to leave my face red raw by the morning,’ she promised.




8 (#ulink_649d3495-f3ba-596a-a1d7-86a9078ccd78)

Sam’s flat: Wednesday 7 October 2015


Sam hadn’t known what kind of trouble he had been stepping into when he had decided to offer a helping hand to the Petersons, but he refused to feel guilty about trying to grant a little girl’s wish. If he regretted anything, it was telling Anna about that first one, but at least he hadn’t shared any more. ‘I didn’t tell you about the wish because I fail to see how it would help find Jasmine.’

‘Let me be the judge of that,’ DCI Harper said.

‘All right then, yes, I knew Jasmine wanted her dad to find a job. Is it a crime now to want to help someone?’ Sam demanded.

‘I suppose that depends on the motive,’ Harper said. ‘What was in it for you, Mr McIntyre?’

Before Sam could reply, static crackled through the air as a police radio came to life. The police officer who had returned to his sentry duty by the door stepped out onto the landing to speak to his colleagues.

Sam took a look out of the window and noticed another police car drawing up outside. ‘Has something happened?’ he asked.

Harper didn’t bother to look outside but took a seat opposite Sam, having decided he was going to be there for a while. He checked his notes again, if only to kill time while he waited for his colleague to return. He didn’t have to wait long, and when he did come back into the room, the officer slipped Harper a note while avoiding any eye contact with Sam.

‘Would you mind if we searched your apartment, Mr McIntyre?’ Harper asked Sam.

‘You won’t find her here.’

‘I’m starting to think we won’t find much of anything here. Were you planning on going away, by any chance?’

A flush rose to Sam’s cooling cheeks, but before he could reply, the detective followed up his question with another. ‘Is that why you called your employers this morning and told them you were handing in your notice with immediate effect?’

Sam didn’t look at Harper but stared into the depths of his half-empty glass of water. ‘I’d simply decided it was time to move on. I never intended remaining in Liverpool long-term and I’d already stayed longer than I ever expected.’

Harper leaned back against the dining room chair, which groaned under his weight. ‘So you’d really had enough of all those schoolchildren flocking to the park to hang off your every word?’

‘I’ve given guided tours for years to people of all ages, here and in Edinburgh.’

Frowning, Harper lifted up the note the policeman had given him. ‘But your actual job is as a gardener at Calderstones, not a park ranger.’

‘Yes, but I started volunteering my time when the ranger services were cut back. It was still an official duty and I’ve been DBS checked, if that’s what you’re wondering. I don’t have a criminal record.’

‘Oh, I already know that, Mr McIntyre. No one’s suggesting otherwise.’

‘Then what exactly are you suggesting?’

‘Absolutely nothing,’ Harper replied and immediately changed tack. ‘Do you have family back in Scotland?’

‘I was married yes, but we’re divorced now.’

Harper nodded and Sam couldn’t tell if he was noting the answer or confirming it was correct. ‘Children?’

‘No.’

There was a moment when Harper held his gaze and Sam didn’t know what he was going to ask next but he dreaded it anyway.

‘I might want to speak to your wife, sorry, your ex-wife,’ Harper said at last. ‘Do you have her contact details?’ Harper had lifted his pen to his notepad in readiness.

‘You might have difficulty there. She was going on her honeymoon this morning so she’ll probably be mid-flight by now,’ Sam said. He was getting to know Harper and had the answer to his next remark before it left his lips. ‘But of course you can have her details if it helps.’

‘You haven’t had much success with relationships, have you, Mr McIntyre?’ Harper said. ‘Why did you break up with Miss Jenkins, by the way? She’s young and pretty by all accounts. What went wrong? Wasn’t she your type, either?’

‘We dated briefly and it didn’t work out, that’s all there was to it,’ Sam replied, not sure how he was remaining calm.

‘Was it something specifically that caused a rift in that particular relationship?’ Harper asked, and then cocked his head before adding, ‘Was she worried about your obsession with the Petersons?’

‘You’d have to ask her that,’ Sam answered, too quickly to see the trap.

‘We will,’ Harper replied with a satisfied smile. ‘But it’s good to hear that at least you recognize your obsession – which wasn’t only limited to Jasmine, was it?’




9 (#ulink_b2bed9f8-1c72-508f-aa90-3bde407e0df2)

Sunday 31 May 2015


Sam pressed his chin against his chest as he concentrated on pushing the mower steadily down the length of the garden towards the house, careful to keep in line with the neat stripe of newly cut grass he had already made. He had wanted to begin the task hours ago but knew his neighbours might have taken exception to being woken up by the buzz of a lawn mower on a lazy, hazy Sunday morning. Even at ten o’clock, he suspected some would think it too early. He looked towards the house for signs of life. The curtains were still drawn on the ground floor, but as he cast his gaze higher, he spotted Anna sitting on the ledge of his bedroom window with a cup of coffee in her hand, wrapped in nothing but an old shirt she had taken from his wardrobe. Her smile warmed his heart more than the sun on his back.

She had transformed his life in such a short space of time. His previous existence had been little more than a long list of chores with his future laid out like a to-do-list. When he wasn’t working, either in his official and unofficial capacity, Sam helped Selina with jobs around the house and if she didn’t need anything doing then he had been known to extend the offer to her friends. The time he had left was focused on either running or sketching.

That wasn’t to say that he was completely comfortable with his newly acquired social life. He tried to tell himself he was out of practice and it would take time to adapt, but there was more to it than that – there always was. Anna was distracting him from the memories that might otherwise haunt him, but rather than a blessing, it made him feel guilty. He deserved to live with the pain.

Sam reached the edge of the lawn and promptly did a U-turn before steering the mower across the next strip of grass waiting to be cut to within an inch of its life. He could feel Anna’s eyes boring into him. She was unlike any woman he had ever met. Kirsten had been calm and considered, a mirror image of Sam in many ways, whereas Anna came across as not only sure of herself but of him, too. He could feel himself being swept along by her enthusiasm for the potential of their relationship. Unlike Sam, she wasn’t interested in the past. Yes, they both had histories, but she looked only to the future and was helping Sam lift his head to the horizon too.

When he turned the mower again, he looked up to find Selina standing on the decking area that ran the full length of the house. The old lady was bent double, with one hand banging desperately against her chest. Sam was horrified to see her face contorted and tears flowing down her cheeks. He cut off the engine and was about to rush over, then stopped himself. He had to wait a full minute for his landlady to compose herself and bring the gales of laughter under control.

Sam scratched his chin as he waited, which only made the old lady crease up again. ‘Stop it!’ she cried, wiping the tears from her eyes. ‘Oh, Sam, you’re such a sight!’

Clenching his jaw and refusing to even smile, Sam asked, ‘Why? What’s wrong with you, woman?’

Selina bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry, really I am. You look …’ There was another burst of laughter. She took a deep breath. ‘You just look so different without a beard.’

Sam glared at her but couldn’t wipe the smile from her face.

‘I suppose we have Anna to thank for that,’ she said, still giggling.

‘I practically had to lock him in the bathroom,’ Anna said.

She had appeared from the house behind Selina and the two women smiled at each other. ‘He looks so young without it,’ Selina said, then started breaking up again. ‘That’s it! He looks baby-faced!’

‘He has this hang up about me being ten years younger – but look at him now, you’d never guess the age gap, would you?’

Selina came towards Sam and put her weathered hand softly against his cheek. ‘He’s like a new man.’

‘So what was so wrong with the old one?’ he said.

The off-the-cuff comment hung in the air as the old lady held his gaze. ‘He wasn’t the real you,’ she said. ‘He was just someone to help you forget the person you were and could be again.’

‘What did she mean?’ Anna asked when Selina had disappeared into the house, promising to make them a cooked breakfast to give them some energy for the run they were planning later that afternoon: Anna’s promise to go out for a leisurely jog with him had been part of the negotiations for Sam’s traumatic shave. She wasn’t keen on exercise, but she had wanted to please him, just as he had wanted to please her the night before.

‘Oh, pay no attention to her. I think she was a white witch in a previous life.’

‘And what were you in your previous life, Sam? A devoted husband who should never have given into his midlife crisis and walked out on his wife?’

For a moment, Sam was stunned. Anna had been inquisitive about the break-up of his marriage but hadn’t pushed him on the matter. Had she thought that shaving off his beard would reveal a little more of the man beneath? What she didn’t – and couldn’t – know was that his wife of fifteen years had already tried and failed to break through the outer shell he had acquired in his later years. Anna didn’t stand a chance, but he could at least allay one of her fears. ‘I’m not still in love with Kirsten, if that’s what you were wondering.’

Anna was still wearing his shirt, her bare legs exposed and her toes digging into the sun-warmed decking. For someone who came across as so confident, she looked suddenly vulnerable. ‘Yes, I suppose I was,’ she admitted. ‘You’re a hard man to get to know, Sam. You may not realize that you put up barriers, but they’re there, and it would be nice to know that one day I’ll be able to break through them.’

The comment, rather than help Sam open up, only served to push him away and he stepped back. ‘I just need to take it slowly. Is that OK?’ he said, grabbing hold of the mower and preparing to start it up again.

‘OK,’ she said, sensing the not-so-subtle withdrawal. ‘You set the pace and I’ll follow.’

Sam had started up the mower but Anna was talking again and so, reluctantly, he shut it off.

‘You still want me to go with you to Jack’s leaving do, don’t you?’

‘Could I stop you?’ he said more harshly than he intended.

Anna narrowed her eyes in response. ‘No, Sam, you couldn’t.’

When he saw her lip quiver, he felt awful. He reminded himself that she was a rare blessing in his life and deserved better from him. He abandoned the mower and came over to wrap his arms around her. ‘Good,’ he said.

Anna didn’t immediately respond and kept her hands by her sides. She had acquired a pout. ‘I suppose you still want to go ahead with your harebrained idea about bumping into Finn in the pub first.’

‘You don’t think it’s a good idea, do you?’

‘I think you’re a lovely, kind-hearted man,’ she said. ‘But Finn’s a proud one. He wouldn’t take kindly to an offer of charity.’

‘It’s not charity.’

Anna placed both hands on his chest as if getting the measure of his heart. ‘No, it’s a little girl’s wish.’

‘Exactly,’ Sam said and then pulled Anna closer until she was bending to his will – and yet still he felt her resistance.

Anna had talked a lot about her local. Apparently they had held quite a few family wakes in there and it was where her dad had taken her for her first legal drink. Sam had pictured a quaint little pub but the reality was somewhat different. Although the imposing facade had all the trademarks of a Victorian public house, the interior had been transformed into a modern eatery that was full of light, although at five thirty on a Saturday evening, not particularly full of life.

Staff flitted between empty tables, tidying up as they went to take advantage of the lull before the evening rush. While Anna searched out a clear table, Sam scanned the faces of customers as if he would recognize Jasmine’s father instinctively.

‘Is he here?’

Anna looked momentarily puzzled. Clearly, Sam’s mission was playing less on her mind than it was on his. ‘Oh, you mean Finn. Are you sure you want to do this?’ When Sam nodded, she tutted quietly before looking around. She waved at a couple of regulars at the bar but then quashed Sam’s hopes by saying, ‘No, it doesn’t look like it. It’s usually heaving at this time during the football season but I suppose it does get quieter over the summer. Sorry, we can always try again.’

‘I’ll get us some drinks,’ Sam said, trying not to let his disappointment show. Meeting Finn had been the only part of the evening he had been looking forward to; the rest of the night would be filled with dread as he introduced his new girlfriend to his colleagues.

Standing at the bar, he ordered a glass of wine for Anna while debating whether to have a double whisky for Dutch courage or a soft drink to make sure he kept his wits about him. He settled on a pint, only to be told the barrel needed changing. As he waited, he leafed through a discarded newspaper on the counter and didn’t look up when a man squeezed onto the bar stool next to him until he realized he was being watched.

‘Sorry, is this your paper?’ Sam asked, closing it up and offering it back before the stranger could reply.

‘It’s all right, mate. I’ve read it from cover to cover and the news won’t get any better second time around.’

‘Aye, it does seem like the only news these days is bad.’

The man nodded then turned his attention to the last two inches of beer in the glass he had left on the bar. ‘And there’ll be more bad news waiting for me at home if I don’t get a move on.’

From the corner of his eye, Sam spied Anna giving him the thumbs-up sign which confirmed what he had already suspected. Jasmine hadn’t inherited her father’s dark looks or his rather squat stature but there was something about Finn that was a reflection of his daughter, if only the shadows under the eyes.

‘I envy you,’ Sam said as he scrambled for something to say. He tipped his head towards Anna as he added, ‘I’m being dragged into town but I’d rather be heading home myself.’

‘Anna’s your girlfriend?’ Finn asked to which Sam nodded. ‘Don’t tell me, she’s forcing you to see some highbrow play or something educational.’

‘Actually, it’s a leaving do for a friend of mine.’

Finn shook his head and cursed under his breath. ‘Don’t tell me it’s someone else who’s lost their job? It’s getting tough out there.’

The barman had returned from the cellar and promised Sam he wouldn’t keep him much longer. Time was running out. ‘Actually, he’s moving on to pastures new after looking after Liverpool’s parks and gardens for the last twenty-five years. How about you? What do you do?’

‘Nothing. I do nothing,’ Finn said with a snort before downing the last of his pint. ‘I was a foreman at a builders’ merchants, there ten years and then they let me go, just like that.’ He snapped his fingers to drive the point home. ‘Been looking around for ages, but you know …’ He shook his head. ‘It gets to the point where you think – why bother?’ Finn stared at the dregs of his glass. ‘But I do bother because I’m supposed to provide for my family.’

If Sam had any doubts about helping, they disappeared in that instant. ‘Any good at landscaping?’

Finn smiled. ‘I’ve an eight-year-old daughter at home who’d like to think she can do a better job mowing the lawn given half the chance. The wife’s mostly in charge of the garden, but I’m good with a shovel. I couldn’t even guess how many tonnes of sand I’ve shifted in my time,’ he said before turning to Sam, the look alone asking why the question.

Sam rubbed his chin, the touch of warm flesh still a surprise to him after two weeks of being clean-shaven. He did his best to look as if the thought was only just occurring to him and managed to sound dubious when he said, ‘I might be out of order here, and I certainly can’t promise anything, but the pal I’m off to see is taking on labour. His new job is with a building contractor, working on new-build projects all over the city and I could always put in a word if you’re interested?’

By the time the barman had placed the beer in front of Sam, the deal was done. Finn and Sam swapped numbers and Sam promised to do his best to help.

‘And if I do get a job, then I want to see you back here so I can buy you a pint. Hell, if the job pays enough, I’ll treat you to a meal!’

Sam only realized how anxious he had been when his nerves started to dissipate after leaving Finn at the bar. While Jasmine’s father looked nothing like what he had imagined, in all other respects he had met his expectations. He was someone who was down on his luck and had lost his way because he couldn’t support his family; a man who was reluctant to go home to his wife because he felt like a failure – and Sam knew that feeling better than most. He was going to do his damnedest to persuade Jack to take him on, so Sam’s spirits were high, but nowhere near as high as the man who gave him a wave as he left the pub to go home to tell his eight-year-old daughter that maybe, just maybe, her wish had come true.

Sam’s runs were getting more frequent and longer despite the summer heat, and the latest had been a gruelling one. He was leaning over with his hands on trembling knees as he tried to summon up the energy to drag himself up the last few steps to the front door. He was still a little hung over after Jack’s party the night before and the run had left him even more dehydrated.

Sweat trickled down his nose and dripped onto the block paving, creating dark crimson splodges that quickly evaporated upon contact with the sun-scorched cement. His lungs burned and his heart thumped so loudly that at first he didn’t hear the sound of the yard brush being swept across the ground. Its rigid bristles appeared in his peripheral vision as Selina swept up nothing but dust, and by the time he had straightened up, she had stopped what she was doing and was leaning on the brush handle watching him.

‘That was a long one,’ she remarked.

‘About an hour.’

She looked at her watch and said, ‘Try two.’

‘You must have been out here a while then,’ he said between gasps for breath. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t worn away the paving stones.’

Without even trying to deny that she had been loitering, Selina asked, ‘Did I hear Anna leaving before?’

Sam managed a nod.

‘She’s not coming back today?’

He shook his head.

‘I’ve got a roast in the oven, enough for two which is lucky because it looks like you’ve built up quite an appetite. There’s beer in the fridge too.’ Selina could see the refusal forming on his dried lips so added quickly, ‘Right, that’s settled then. I’ll give you a chance to cool down and get showered, so shall we say four o’clock?’

Sam leant back to stretch his spine and allowed himself a smile. ‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ he said, glad that the old lady had stopped him spending the rest of the day retreating into the safety of his apartment and sealing the door on the outside world. Too much time on his own would do him no good. He had thought the run would help but he had only managed to tie himself up in more knots.

After years of becoming accustomed to living in the ruins that constituted his life, the world around Sam was transforming before his eyes. To some degree he had been a willing participant, but the pace of change was overtaking him and he didn’t know how to adapt, or even if he wanted to. What he really needed was to talk it through and there was only one person he had come close to opening up to in recent years and she was standing there in front of him, resting her elbow on her broom with a satisfied look on her face that eased the wrinkles of her concern if only a little.

But there were more pressing needs to deal with first, such as a long drink of water and a shower so Sam left Selina to her sweeping and heaved himself upstairs as fast as his aching legs would carry him. Within minutes he was stepping into a strong spray of water that was cold enough to make him gasp. He dipped his head and let the water run down his back and, despite chattering teeth, refused to turn up the temperature.

Arriving with Anna on his arm at the party had caused quite a stir, not surprising given that the majority of his colleagues hadn’t even been aware of her existence. Everyone was at pains to tell him what a lovely couple they made and, from his beardless appearance alone, how she had already had a positive effect on him. But while Anna had taken it all in her stride, Sam had become increasingly uncomfortable and had drunk far more than he had intended.

The shower helped ease Sam’s muscles, although it hadn’t been quite cold enough to numb his thoughts. Once dressed, he headed back downstairs, his heavy footfalls giving Selina warning of his arrival and she was at the door before he had the chance to knock.

‘Much better,’ she said with a nod of approval as she invited him in.

Selina’s apartment, although more or less the same size as Sam’s, had a different configuration. Most notably, she had sacrificed living space in favour of a large and homely kitchen with enough room to accommodate a family-sized dining table. There were other differences too. Selina was by no means short of homely adornments and had accumulated enough bric-a-brac to cover every available surface, making the décor as demanding of attention as the woman herself. There was no discernible theme to her collection of china figurines and carved animals, nor any co-ordination of colours or styles. Likewise, the paintings on the walls were an eclectic mix and obscured so much of the wall space that there was little evidence of the wallpaper Sam had helped Selina put up six months earlier. The only thing Selina did have in common with Sam was an absence of family photographs on display.

‘Sit yourself down,’ she said and returned to the oven where the makings of a roast dinner was ready to serve.

It smelled delicious, as always, especially compared to Sam’s usual diet of defrosted ready meals, but on closer inspection the roast potatoes were crisp to the point of being charred and the vegetables were on the verge of disintegrating.

‘I know,’ she said, ‘it’s a little overcooked.’

‘Sorry,’ he said, knowing full well that Selina’s timings had only been off because he had stayed out so long.

Selina put her own plate on the table, her portion sizes dwarfed by those she had imposed on her guest, before taking a seat opposite Sam. ‘So what kept you out so long?’

‘I had a bit of a heavy session last night and needed to sweat it out.’

Selina narrowed her eyes. ‘You can’t fool me, Sam McIntyre. So which was it? Were you trying to punish yourself or make your mind up about something?’

Sam played with his food as he wondered how to begin. ‘A bit of both,’ he said at last.

Not satisfied with the answer, Selina waited patiently for further explanation.

‘I knew I’d get comments when I turned up at the party with Anna, but it was her reaction more than anything that bothered me,’ he said. ‘She was talking about her ideas for publishing that children’s book she’s been going on about and it only took one comment about a partnership for Jack’s wife to jump to the conclusion that we were practically engaged. And even though Anna kept telling her it was early days … I don’t know, it was the way she looked at me, as if we were keeping our plans a secret rather than there not being any plans at all.’

‘But there could be one day,’ Selina said, posing the statement as a question.

‘I like Anna and I keep pinching myself that someone like her could be interested in me,’ he said. ‘I enjoy her company, Selina, but if I’m being brutally honest, I can’t see us taking things beyond what they are now.’

‘Never?’ Selina asked, genuinely surprised.

Sam had taken a mouthful of his dinner and chewed as hard on his answer as he did his food. ‘I keep trying to convince myself it’s too soon to tell if the attraction is simply superficial. We’ve been seeing each other for less than two months and we barely know each other.’

‘There’s one way of solving that, Sam: talk to her. Tell her about your feelings. Tell her about you.’

Sam reverted to playing with his food again. ‘No,’ he said firmly. If he had reached one conclusion during his run it was that he shouldn’t be encouraging Anna any more than he already had. ‘I’m not even sure I should keep on seeing her. She’s young and she needs to be with someone she can build a life with. That isn’t me, you know that.’

‘You’re a good catch, Sam, and she’d have to be a fool not to want a future with you. The only fool I can see right now is you. What if she could make you happy?’

‘But I don’t want her kind of happy!’ said Sam as he stabbed at a carrot and immediately turned it to mush. ‘I’m not sure I want happy at all. And yes, I am a fool; a fool for getting involved with her in the first place. It would have been better if I’d just been left in peace.’

Selina had been nibbling at her dinner as if oblivious to Sam’s growing agitation, but when she looked up there was a glint in her eye. ‘You’ve got no chance of that, I’m afraid.’

The comment made Sam smile. ‘Ah, but I can always close my door and ignore you,’ he said but then reconsidered his answer. ‘Actually, no I can’t do that either, can I? But you’re different, Selina. You don’t want anything from me. OK, that’s wrong too.’ Sam was almost laughing now. ‘Yes, you play on my good nature, use my body for your own purposes—’

‘And don’t forget my friends.’

‘Yes, let’s not forget the services I provide to half the octogenarians in Liverpool!’

‘Pat’s only seventy-five,’ she protested.

Exasperated, Sam held aloft his knife and fork in submission. ‘Look, I am willing to accept that we’ve become the weirdest couple in Liverpool but we still live alone, Selina. You’ve chosen your way of life and I’ve chosen mine. I thought going out with Anna was the right thing to do, proving to myself that I’ve still got a pulse, but I never wanted to give up my old way of life completely. The problem is, it’s all about satisfying my needs, not Anna’s. I should have thought about her and what she might want – what she does want from our relationship.’

‘For the record, I didn’t choose my lifestyle,’ Selina reminded him.

Sam dropped his head in shame. Of course it hadn’t been Selina’s choice to live what would have been an otherwise lonely existence for the last fifty years if it weren’t for the good friends around her. She certainly hadn’t chosen to be involved in a car accident that would see her lose both her husband and her unborn child. At only thirty-one she had buried them both, along with her ability to ever carry another child. ‘Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.’

‘I’m not going to be around forever, Sam, and whilst I have a long list of friends who would happily take my place in your life, that isn’t the answer either. You may think you can go it alone, but you can’t. It isn’t in your nature.’

‘You’re not going anywhere and neither am I,’ Sam said.

Selina folded her arms as she faced Sam’s stubbornness head on. ‘Do you like Anna?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘If you weren’t so worried about not being able to live up to her expectations, would you still want to carry on seeing her?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘That’s settled then. If you can’t have Anna on your conscience, then put her on mine. I’m telling you to carry on seeing her, Sam. And that’s an order,’ she said and before he could continue the argument, added, ‘Now, is that it or is there anything else playing on your mind?’

Shocked at the swift resolution of his relationship woes, in Selina’s mind at least, Sam was too stunned to reply.

‘What else, Sam?’

He shrugged. There was something, or to be precise someone; a little girl who had sneaked into his heart. ‘Remember the trouble my Wishing Tree got me into?’ he said. ‘Well, I think I’ve managed to grant one wee girl her wish.’

‘Not the one who wanted a job for her dad?’

Sam laughed. ‘Well, I haven’t been handing out PlayStations, if that’s what you were thinking!’

At last he was starting to relax and tucked into his dinner with an appetite he had thought was beyond him. By the time he cleared his plate, he had explained to Selina all about meeting Finn and how he had already put in a good word with Jack.

Stretching back against his chair to give his expanded girth some room, Sam picked up a paper napkin from the table. It was crisp white tissue paper and perfectly square, ideal for origami and his fingers worked their magic with barely a conscious thought. ‘I’ll give Jack another ring tomorrow just to make sure he hasn’t forgotten,’ he explained. ‘He was a little bit worse for wear when I mentioned it, but he seemed keen enough to take my recommendation.’

‘But you don’t even know this Finn person,’ Selina warned. ‘How can you recommend someone for a job when you have no idea if he’s a good worker or even a decent bloke for that matter?’

Anna had been voicing her doubts as well, but Sam couldn’t be dissuaded. ‘I’d like to think I’m a good judge of character and I wouldn’t have asked Jack if I thought I was landing him with a shirker. Besides, the work’s only general labour and it’s not even permanent but at least it’s a job.’

‘Which satisfies the wish.’

Selina had been the only other person to actually read Jasmine’s note and there was a look of delight on her face that removed any remaining doubt Sam might have had. ‘Sometimes all a person needs is a step on the first rung of the ladder. It’s for Finn to make of it what he can.’

‘Another one for your collection?’ Selina was looking at the crane Sam had brought to life from a simple paper napkin. ‘You must have hundreds of them by now.’

Sam folded its wings back up and slipped it into his pocket where it would remain until he returned back upstairs to add it to his collection. At the last count, there were six hundred of the things in the shoebox. ‘There’s an ancient Japanese myth that if you make a thousand then you’ll have your wish granted,’ he told her.

Selina had seen him make countless birds in her time, but he had never before explained himself and he wasn’t sure why he chose to do so now. He had told the same story to a young girl many years ago. She would have been a little older than Jasmine at the time and a lot less gullible, but if she had doubted him then she hadn’t let it show and they had started on the project of making one thousand cranes together. He felt compelled to carry on although he had no idea what he would do when he reached the magical number. ‘And before you say it, no I don’t have a wish. All the mumbo jumbo in the world couldn’t give me the one thing I want. What’s broken can’t be unbroken, and while there are many things I will never come to terms with, that’s not one of them.’

‘Fair enough,’ she said.

There was a lull in the conversation until Sam broke the spell. ‘So where’s this beer you promised?’

Selina produced two cans of Guinness from the fridge and poured them into glasses.

‘You’re pushing the boat out, aren’t you? Isn’t smart-price bitter good enough for you these days?’

‘I didn’t buy them. They’re off Pat.’

Sam caught the look Selina was trying to hide and asked, ‘What’s she after?’

Selina handed Sam his glass and then sat down purposefully. ‘Well, now you’ve asked,’ she said, ‘there is a little job she wouldn’t mind your help with. You know she’s bought a caravan?’

‘Is this the one she took you to in Wales?’

‘Yes, Pantymwyn,’ Selina replied. ‘It’s only about an hour’s drive away. It’s a lovely little site in the middle of some stunning countryside – it’s more like a little village, really. Everyone takes care of their own little patch of land and their gardens are their pride and joy.’

‘So what does she need doing in this pretty little place that’s only an hour’s drive away?’

Selina took a sip of beer that left a trail of foam on her upper lip then wiped it away with the back of her hand. ‘A bit of decking and a general tidy up, I think, in time for a family get-together over the August Bank Holiday. I’ve already told her she couldn’t expect you to do it in a day. “Pat,” I said, “that man hasn’t had a holiday in all the time I’ve known him. If you’re expecting miracles then let him have some time to relax too.” We were thinking a week would be enough.’

‘I don’t need a holiday,’ Sam warned, ‘not even a working one.’

‘Everyone needs a holiday.’

‘When was the last time you went on one? Oh, don’t tell me you’re planning on coming along too?’ He was laughing again and so was Selina.

‘As tempting as it is to go off to foreign climes, someone has to stay here to look after the house. No, I was thinking …’

Sam knew exactly what Selina was going to say. The scheme she had been conjuring up with her friend’s help was based on the same presumption everyone had made at the party the night before: that Anna had become a permanent appendage to Sam’s life. But that was before their recent heart to heart and now Selina knew better. He could tell her mind was whirring by the twitch in her eye.

‘I was thinking,’ she continued, ‘that you could go on your own. I don’t condone you spending the rest of your life in seclusion but you do need to recharge your batteries.’

‘When I’m not digging up Pat’s garden,’ Sam added, but Selina didn’t need to argue her case any more. ‘Actually, it’s not a half-bad idea. I could go for some long walks and clear away the cobwebs. Of course, I’d have to check out the job first to make sure I know what I’m letting myself in for, but yes, all right then. Tell her to give me a call and we can set something up.’

At last Selina had found a way to settle his mind, although possibly not in the way she had intended. He had gone out on a run because he was starting to feel that same urge to escape that had made him leave Edinburgh. He was trying to resist it because he didn’t want to run away again so perhaps a temporary break might give him the space he needed.




10 (#ulink_39bdb363-9ab7-5b4e-8b32-4a0c08a21046)

Sam’s flat: Wednesday 7 October 2015


As they sat facing each other across the dining table, Sam could feel a trap closing in around him and he had to work hard to keep his breathing steady and his expression neutral.

‘Remind me again, Mr McIntyre,’ Harper said, ‘when did you first meet Jasmine?’

‘During a school trip to the park.’

‘No, I mean when. What time of year?’

Sam tried to think back. ‘There were bluebells around the tree, so it would have been spring time.’

‘You can still picture it in your mind, can you?’ Harper asked. His eyes had widened like a cat’s watching its prey.

‘I’d guess it was late April,’ Sam clarified. ‘But there’ll be a record of the visit at work if that would help.’

Harper looked thoughtful and his eye was drawn to the green square of paper on the table. He reached out without warning and turned it over. There was a look of disappointment on his face when he discovered it had a white underside that was blank and otherwise nondescript. Returning his attention to Sam, he asked, ‘And you met Mr Peterson when?’

Sam scratched his head, which felt flaky with dried salty sweat. ‘Early to mid-June. It was the day of Jack’s leaving party, so again, it will be in a diary somewhere at work.’

‘And did you see Jasmine again during that time?’

‘No, I didn’t.’

Harper sucked in air between his teeth. ‘That’s quite a gap. Did you want to see her?’

The detective knew Sam wasn’t going to answer so continued where his train of thought was leading him. ‘So you meet Jasmine in April and her dad in June. You realize at this point that while you can bump into Mr Peterson any time you like in his local, it wouldn’t be so easy to engineer a meeting with Jasmine again. Would that be right?’

Sam was shaking his head. ‘This is sick! There’s a child missing and I don’t know where she is. I would never harm Jasmine, if anything I only ever wanted to protect her. Stop wasting time here, DCI Harper, and go out and find her for pity’s sake!’

Harper continued as if Sam’s outburst hadn’t happened. ‘Are you still refusing to allow us to search your apartment, Mr McIntyre?’ Harper asked. ‘We can wait for a search warrant but I’d rather have your co-operation.’

‘I don’t recall saying that you couldn’t,’ Sam said. He could feel his clenched jaw aching now. He let out a frustrated sigh that he wished was powerful enough to knock the smug detective off his chair. ‘Go ahead, do what you want.’

‘Thank you, Mr McIntyre.’ Without breaking his gaze with Sam, Harper lifted his hand and signalled to the police officer behind him. ‘So, where were we?’ he asked as his colleague slipped out of the apartment, presumably to organize a search team. ‘Ah, yes, we know how you met Jasmine and her dad, but what about her mum? How did you manage to inveigle your way into her life?’




11 (#ulink_c58ff64f-56e0-5bdc-9344-b6d40217d06d)

Saturday 20 June 2015


Selina had instructed Sam to continue seeing Anna, as if that alone would allow him to keep his conscience clear, but it wasn’t that simple. It was inevitable that Sam would hurt Anna at some point and the longer he let her believe they had a future together, the deeper that hurt might be. He had to at least try to stop that from happening, but as the couple strolled down the road together on a warm summer’s evening he didn’t know where to begin. Anna was beautiful and lively and enthusiastic about life in general, and while he didn’t think for a minute he would ever be able to immerse himself completely in her kind of world, he couldn’t deny it felt good to pay a visit now and again. If there was a way forward, one thing was clear: it would have to be on Anna’s terms and not just his own.

‘I can’t wait for school to finish,’ Anna said as they made their way towards the King’s Arms. ‘One more month and then I can relax for a while. Mum and Dad have a villa in Spain and it’s free for a couple of weeks in August if you fancy it?’

When Sam didn’t immediately respond, she squeezed his hand tightly as if to force an answer from him. It worked, although it wasn’t the answer she was hoping for.

‘I’m not too sure about that,’ he said hesitantly as he scrambled to think up a believable excuse. ‘With my Celtic blood, I’ll be burnt to a crisp.’

‘Really?’ she asked.

Anna made a point of looking at his deeply tanned arms – an occupational hazard from his outdoor lifestyle. He squirmed under her scrutiny and then, fortunately for Sam, his phone began to ring.

The call was from Pat, and Sam tried not to look at Anna as Selina’s friend explained a little about the work she wanted doing at her caravan in Pantymwyn. He continued to walk as he talked and by the time they reached the pub, Sam had made arrangements to meet Pat at the site to check out the job.

‘So who was that on the phone?’ Anna asked after they had found a table in a quiet corner.

‘One of Selina’s friends wants me to do a job for her.’

Sam was being deliberately vague, but Anna had already heard one half of his conversation and evasion was futile. ‘So where is this caravan, then?’ she asked.

Sam hadn’t yet taken a seat and played for time. ‘Let me get the drinks in first.’

Before he could move, a pint and a glass of wine were placed down in front of him. A hand clamped around his shoulder. ‘No need, mate – these are on me.’

When Sam turned around, Finn was smiling from ear to ear. The two shook hands. ‘And I know I promised you a slap-up meal but I’m afraid I haven’t had my first wage packet yet. When I do, though, I promise to take you both out.’

Sam already knew from Jack that he had taken Finn on. The job was only going to be over the summer but there was always the chance his contract might be extended.

‘You really don’t have to thank me, Finn. All I did was put you in touch with Jack, no more.’

Finn was shaking his head. ‘No, you did more than that. I’d reached the point where I’d all but given up, and if I’m being honest, I was in a pretty bad place.’ He patted Sam on the shoulder again. ‘Anyway, I won’t disturb you now but maybe I’ll see you at school. I take you’re being dragged along to see the play?’

Sam looked a little nonplussed as he turned to Anna, who raised an eyebrow. ‘I told you all about it, Sam,’ she scolded. ‘We’re putting on an adaptation of the Wizard of Oz in a couple of weeks.’

Finn was laughing. ‘I was the same, Sam. The wife’s been going on about it for weeks because our Jasmine’s in it, but I took no notice. Now, thanks to you, I’ve turned over a new leaf and I promised Laura I’d go. And if I’m going, then I don’t see why you can’t bite the bullet too.’

‘We could all go out for that meal afterwards if you can get a babysitter,’ Anna suggested.

When Finn agreed, there was little Sam could do to object to the plan, although he wasn’t giving his approval willingly. The idea of stepping inside a school hall packed with excited parents and nervous kids made his insides twist in knots, and yet there was a part of him that wanted to see more of the family he had helped, if only to remind himself that he wasn’t completely selfish and self-absorbed.

When Finn returned to the bar, Sam and Anna chatted a little about the play and he feigned interest as best he could. He had assumed she had forgotten all about the phone call from Pat until she said, ‘So, tell me more about this caravan. Where is it?’

‘Wales.’

Either Anna hadn’t picked up on Sam’s reluctance to involve her in his plans or was ignoring it and said, ‘I’m not so busy with the play that I couldn’t fit in a quick trip to Wales.’

‘Oh, it’s not any time soon. She doesn’t need the garden finished until the end of August.’

‘In the school holidays, then, that’s even better. The only time I get to go to Wales these days is on school trips and believe me, it’s never a fun day out.’

‘Neither will this be,’ Sam said. ‘So far I’ve only committed to pay a quick visit so Pat can show me what she has planned and to work out what supplies we’ll need.’

‘People do take advantage of you, Sam. I bet she isn’t paying you for your time, is she?’

Sam wasn’t looking at Anna but towards the bar where Finn was deep in conversation with a group of men. They looked as if they were part of the fixtures and fittings, Finn included. ‘I like helping people,’ he said. ‘What else would I do with my free time?’

‘Spend it with me,’ Anna suggested, leaning in closer so that her face was only inches from his. ‘It would be good for us to get away, if not for a holiday then a long weekend somewhere. I’d even settle for a day trip to Wales.’

Putting down the pint he had been cradling, Sam turned to give her his full attention. He asked himself again why setting out a future with Anna should be such a bad thing. He couldn’t deny the attraction and the excitement she brought to his life, but there was something missing and it was missing in him, not her. All she wanted to do was please him and make him happy and, in response, the best he could do was try to lessen the hurt. His pulse began to race. ‘Look, I think you’re a lovely person, Anna—’

Her face fell and she recoiled as if his words had been a slap across her face. ‘You’re not dumping me, are you?’ She gave a nervous laugh as if expecting Sam to immediately tell her not to be so silly.

Nausea was added to the unpleasant mix of feelings Sam was experiencing. ‘How can I break up with you when we barely know each other?’

‘So far,’ she added quickly.

‘I enjoy being with you, Anna, and I would love to keep things as they are, but I can’t help feeling guilty.’

Anna’s eyes were glistening when she asked, ‘Guilty in what way?’

‘I don’t see my life changing, not in the way that I think you might be expecting it to, in the long term at least. I don’t want you investing your time and your emotions in me because I can’t deliver what you want, Anna. You’re young and you’ll want to settle down one day and do the whole family thing.’ Before she had a chance to respond, he added, ‘And I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that. I don’t think I can give anyone that.’

‘Again,’ Anna reminded him.

‘I won’t deny that my past experiences have affected me. They changed my perspective on life, so if you’re looking for a happy ending then you need to find someone else. I’m sorry, Anna, it’s not going to be me.’

‘Why? What happened that could be so bad that you can’t even talk about it? What is it about your ex-wife that holds you prisoner in the past, Sam?’

There had been more venom than balm in Anna’s words and if ever there was going to be a time when Sam would feel able to explain everything to her, it most certainly wasn’t now. ‘I can’t give you what you want.’

They both held their breath a moment. They were standing at a crossroads and each was trying to decide which path to take. Sam could feel himself drawn to the route that would take him back to the lonely life he had become accustomed to, but Anna took his hand.

‘I don’t understand it, but I accept that you have your reasons for not wanting to commit. I won’t deny that I would like a brood of kids one day, and my head is telling me to cut my losses and run, but I like you, Sam. I like you a lot.’

If her words were meant to reassure Sam then they didn’t. Anna’s declaration gave Sam the distinct impression she had invested a lot more emotion in him than he had appreciated.

‘I already have a long list of failed relationships under my belt,’ she continued, ‘and I can’t believe I’m living back home with Mum and Dad but it’s only temporary. Maybe I would like to think we could make a go of things but it’s too soon, I realize that. And what if your stubbornness could work in my favour – it might be what I need to make me think more about being an independent woman for a change and not someone who has to rely on a man. You’re a good thing in my life, Sam, so stop feeling so guilty.’

There was a certain logic to Anna’s argument and Sam did his best to ignore the flaws. They had reached an understanding and, for the moment at least, his conscience had been satisfied.

‘So, if it’s not too terrifying a proposition,’ Anna said. ‘Can I come with you to Wales in the holidays? I could hold your tape measure while you size up Pat’s garden.’

Sam smiled. ‘I would love you to.’

As Sam stood in front of the school entrance, he could hear laughter coming from deep inside where Anna’s play would be drawing to a close. It was a warm summer’s evening and yet Sam hunched his shoulders against a bitter northerly wind that was no more than a memory of a dark Scottish winter. He shuddered as he made his way inside and followed the Blu-tacked signs to the Land of Oz.

When he entered, the school hall was in darkness except for a single spotlight on the stage as Dorothy called out to the friends she had lost in the woods. She kept looking at the stuffed dog tucked under her arm, almost as if she were reading her lines from notes hidden in its fur. Apart from the little girl’s voice, the only other sound came from the creak of the door as Sam closed it behind him. A handful of silhouetted heads turned in his direction and he winced by way of an apology.

It took a moment, but once his eyes adjusted, he found an empty seat on one of the back rows but didn’t immediately move towards it. It wasn’t only his eyes that were adjusting. His pulse was racing and his mouth was dry.

The stage was set ablaze with light as a dozen or so children began stomping about, tripping over the scenery and fluffing their lines. The mixture of pride and tolerance, excitement and nerves coming from the audience was palpable as Sam shuffled along to the empty seat he had spotted. Once settled, he tried to blank out everything that was happening around him by concentrating on an invisible point on the wall to the left of the stage, but this coping strategy simply left space in his mind to be filled with memories that he knew better than to resurrect. He gritted his teeth and flicked his gaze towards the stage, reluctantly accepting that the safest option was to follow the story.

Dorothy had tracked down the Wicked Witch of the West and Sam was quietly impressed by the set. It was clear that more time had gone into making the props and costumes than learning lines. Although it was difficult to recognize faces beneath the elaborate make-up and headgear, it looked as if one of the winged monkeys was none other than the hard-nosed boy who had wished for a branch to fall on Sam’s head. Jasmine was possibly on stage too but according to Anna, she was only a bit player, one of half a dozen Munchkins and without any lines of her own to deliver. There were two Munchkins taking centre stage now and another hiding behind a cardboard tree. The more the shy Munchkin receded into the background, the more convinced Sam was that it was Jasmine.

When the lights went up after the last curtain call, Sam was still staring at the spot on the stage where the little girl had stood. He felt a sense of pride that surprised him. Anna had kept him up to date with the daily dramas surrounding the rehearsals, and while the leading actors had been the focus of her attention, she had occasionally mentioned Jasmine, saying that if she managed to get on stage at all, there was a good chance the poor child would remain there, immobilized by fear. But the stage was empty.

Sam stayed where he was and watched the proud parents milling around until the hall began to clear. He spotted Finn at the front, talking animatedly with one group of parents and then another, his exit continually thwarted. It was quite remarkable to see how Finn was so comfortable being the centre of attention while his daughter was a complete contrast, but then Sam caught a glimpse of the woman walking in his shadow and it became clear where Jasmine had inherited her personality traits as well as her looks. Laura looked to be in her mid-thirties. She was tall and slender with sleek blonde hair pinned up in a twist that looked both casual and elegant. Her eyes were cast down but Sam had no doubt they would be deep blue like her daughter’s.

While Finn chatted away, his wife appeared to take no part in the conversation and when they eventually came level with Sam’s row, she was all but obscured and forgotten by everyone except Sam.

‘Hello, mate,’ Finn called, reaching across the empty seats to shake Sam’s hand. ‘Did we wake you up there? These things do drag on, don’t they?’

‘It was very enjoyable,’ Sam said although the smile gave him away.

‘Are you still interested in going on for something to eat? There’s plenty to choose from along Allerton Road or we could go into town, if you like?’

Sam made a good impression of looking as if he hadn’t given Finn’s offer much thought. ‘Don’t feel obliged if you have other plans.’

‘Nonsense, I’ve been looking forward to it.’

Standing up, Sam made his way to the aisle. ‘There’s just the small matter of dragging Anna away,’ he said as he drew nearer.

It was only when Sam made a point of peering over Finn’s shoulder that his newest friend took the hint and remembered to introduce his wife. When Finn stepped to one side, it was the first chance Sam had to see Laura up close. She was wearing a simple wrap dress and held a hand modestly to her chest. Her eyes remained cast down and unfathomable, which gave her the same power of presence as her daughter, there and yet not there; a beautiful soul that was easily overlooked and yet completely captivating.

When Sam stretched his hand out towards her, they locked eyes and he stumbled over his words as he said hello.

‘So are you ready?’ Finn asked Laura.

‘To go out to dinner? I don’t know, Finn …’

‘Oh, come on, Laura, this is the man who got me a job and I have to repay the debt. I’d like to treat you too,’ he said, then turned to Sam. ‘I don’t know how she’s put up with me these last few months.’

‘But what about Jasmine?’ asked Laura.

Finn remained unfazed, and then his eyes brightened as another group of parents shuffled past. ‘Hey, Natalie,’ he said, catching a woman by the arm, ‘Laura’s forgotten all about our plans to go out for dinner tonight. Is there any chance you could have Jasmine? We’ll return the favour, honest.’

‘You mean Laura will,’ Natalie said as she looked from Finn to his wife. ‘And you don’t have to return the favour but yes, of course she can stay over. She’s never any trouble and I’ve still got a pair of her PJs from last weekend.’

‘Sorry, Natalie,’ Laura said.

‘Don’t you worry about it. I’m heading for the main entrance now to pick up Keira and Jasmine’s bound to be with her. Do you want me to take her back now or did you want to see her first?’

‘I want to see her first,’ Laura said quickly and started following Natalie out through the door before Finn had a chance to argue.

Finn rolled his eyes. ‘Sorry about this, Sam. The joys of parenthood, eh?’

Sam couldn’t bring himself to respond to the comment and changed the subject. ‘It’s all right; Anna said she’d meet me at the main doors too. She shouldn’t be too long,’ he said, and she wasn’t. Anna was leading the charge with a handful of exhausted Munchkins bringing up the rear.

‘Aren’t you getting changed?’ Keira whispered when she found her best friend loitering outside the changing rooms while the rest of her classmates created havoc for Miss Jenkins inside.

Jasmine gave her the best scowl she could manage given that her face had been painted bright orange. ‘I’m staying in character.’

Keira spun around in the pretty silver dress that Jasmine thought a bit too sparkly for one of the townspeople of Oz but her friend had insisted on being noticed. ‘Then so am I,’ she announced before coming to an uncertain stop. ‘But won’t we get in trouble?’

Lifting her nose in the air, Jasmine said, ‘Of course not. I asked Miss Jenkins and she said I could. And if I can, so can you.’

Jasmine was riding on a high and couldn’t have been more proud of herself. She had conquered her fears, and even though she had been shaking like a leaf she had stepped out on stage. Her newfound assertiveness had made it impossible for Miss Jenkins to refuse her request to stay in her costume that little bit longer.

‘Come on, my little Munchkins,’ Miss Jenkins told them as she led the remaining cast out towards the main entrance. ‘The sooner I get you lot handed over to your parents, the sooner we can all go home.’

Jasmine and Keira were holding hands as they stepped through the last set of double doors and were almost trampled over when the group surged forward while Jasmine became rooted to the spot.

‘Come on, Jazz,’ Keira said, tugging at her hand.

‘Look,’ she said, still refusing to move. Her eyes were fixed on the tall man with broad shoulders standing with her dad. ‘It’s Mr McIntyre.’

‘Who?’

‘Don’t you remember? He’s the man who told us about the Wishing Tree.’

Keira looked at him suspiciously. ‘But that was an old man with a beard.’

‘It’s him,’ Jasmine said without a shadow of a doubt.

‘What’s he doing here then?’

Jasmine bit her lip. ‘Do you think it has something to do with the Wishing Tree?’

‘Oh, Jasmine, why do you keep going on about that stupid tree?’

‘Because it has special powers, stupid.’

‘I’m not stupid – you’re stupid. And the Wishing Tree is just a stupid story that’s been made up like Father Christmas and the Tooth Fairy.’

‘It is not! How do you explain how my dad got a job then?’ Jasmine replied with a frown that made her brow itch. When she rubbed at it, the orange face paint flaked beneath her fingers.

Keira swatted her friend’s hand. ‘You’re making a mess of your make-up.’

Jasmine scowled again. ‘The tree made my wish come true, Keira,’ she persisted.

‘Then how come it didn’t grant my wish then? I asked for Leah to take me with her when she went to see the new Avengers film in 3D, but she didn’t.’

Keira’s fourteen-year-old sister, Leah, was regularly called upon to babysit her younger sibling and occasionally Jasmine too since the two often came as a job lot. ‘She took us to the park though.’

‘Only because she wanted to meet her boyf—’ Keira’s voice broke off and her mouth was agog as she stared in the direction of Mr McIntyre. He wasn’t talking to Jasmine’s dad any more. ‘Oh. My. God.’

Jasmine followed her gaze. ‘What?’

‘Did you see that?’

‘No,’ Jasmine said. ‘What was it?’

‘Miss Jenkins has just kissed …’ she began but then felt the need to repeat herself and said with a hiss, ‘She just kissed the Wishing Tree Man.’

‘Yuk!’ the girls said in unison.

Leah appeared from nowhere and gave Keira a shove. ‘Will you two get a move on! Mum’s waiting for you!’

Before being dragged off by her sister, Keira turned back to Jasmine one last time. She stuck a finger down her throat to demonstrate her disgust but Jasmine remained straight-faced and solemn as she approached the group of adults that included her parents. Her mum was the only one who wasn’t deep in conversation and she was waiting with a smile.




12 (#ulink_89846f6d-b99e-5d98-85f5-4dd64681c3ad)

Jasmine’s home: Wednesday 7 October 2015


Laura’s muscles had tensed to the point where she could hardly breathe. She was sitting on the edge of her seat, her arms wrapped around her body as she rocked back and forth. Her nose was still blocked even though she had managed to hold back the flood of tears for the past half an hour. She was staring at a stain on the rug where Jasmine had spilled some blackcurrant juice the night before. It had been a minor mishap and yet, at that moment, it felt as if that grey mark she had tried so hard to scrub away was all she had left of her daughter.

The only other tangible link Jasmine had left behind was her Minnie Mouse umbrella, but the police had taken it away for tests. Her daughter had been hiding beneath it while Laura told her not to splash in the puddles, to behave herself for Natalie, and to hold Keira’s hand on their way to school that morning. She hadn’t bothered to step out into the rain herself to make sure Jasmine reached their neighbour’s house, despite there being a knot of anxiety in her stomach. She had been sick with worry about other things – everything except Jasmine arriving safely at school – but what if it was the last time she would see her daughter? What if whoever had taken her had been watching her careless farewell?

Don’t, she told herself. Don’t give up – not yet.

Her head pounded as she tried to find a more palatable answer. What if Jasmine had walked past their neighbour’s house on purpose and had run away? Then why had her umbrella been shoved into a nearby hedge? Natalie and Keira had found it when they had given up waiting for Jasmine and had called at the house to pick her up.

The door creaked open, pulling Laura away from dark thoughts that were too terrifying to contemplate. Her hand went to her throat and she pulled at her polo neck dress to give her more room to breathe. ‘Any news, Michael?’ she asked the family liaison officer as he poked his head into the living room.

The answer was apparent from the sympathetic look on his face. ‘Sorry. I just thought you’d like to know that DCI Harper is with Mr McIntyre who says he hasn’t seen Jasmine this morning.’

‘He’s lying,’ Finn said with snarl. ‘Give me five minutes with the bastard and I’ll get the truth out of him.’

Laura could taste the tears she was holding back, but it was the bile rising in her throat that made her gag. It was the last shred of hope she had been clinging onto, and, unlike her husband, she firmly believed that if Jasmine had been with Sam, she couldn’t be in safer hands. But if Jasmine wasn’t there, then where was she? If she had run away, where else would an eight-year-old child go? And if she hadn’t run away … As a sob tore from Laura’s lungs, she felt intense pain like a red-hot poker stabbing into her ribcage, making her gasp.

‘Are you all right, Laura?’ Michael asked.

Holding a hand to her left side for support, she took a few juddering breaths before speaking. ‘Sorry, just a twinge. I’ll be fine in a minute.’

Oblivious to his wife’s distress, Finn’s rant continued unabated. ‘I told Harper how Sam must have known what he was doing from the start,’ he said to Michael. ‘Anna – Jasmine’s teacher – told me how he actually tracked me down after meeting our Jazz. Who helps a complete stranger get a job unless there’s an ulterior motive? I should have seen it coming. If anything I blame myself,’ he said, shaking his head.

Laura was staring at the rug again. So do I, she thought and almost said it out loud.

‘Looking back, it’s so bloody obvious,’ Finn continued. ‘All that nonsense he told Jasmine about the Wishing Tree. Has Harper asked him about that? It was a sick and twisted trap to lure little girls. He’ll know where she is and if he’s so much as touched a hair on her head—’

‘If Sam says he hasn’t seen her then I believe him,’ Laura said, unable to hold her tongue a second longer.

‘Yeah, but you’re just as gullible as our Jazz when it comes to the wonderful Sam McIntyre. You were even more infatuated, and don’t go denying it. Well, I hope you’re pleased with yourself, Laura,’ Finn snapped back before the two resumed their vigil in silence.




13 (#ulink_f27b3c9b-f7c2-5ffc-b5f4-7cfd305ab0f3)

Thursday 9 July 2015


Laura crouched down as the little girl with the bright green wig and orange face ran into her arms. The flaking paint on her daughter’s face would leave a dusting of colour on her dress, but Laura couldn’t have stopped Jasmine hugging the life out of her even if she had wanted to.

‘You were amazing,’ Laura whispered in her ear. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

‘I was so nervous I was nearly sick! Seriously!’

‘Well, you weren’t. Well done, Jasmine.’

They both became aware that all eyes were on them and Jasmine would have continued clinging to her mum like a limpet if her dad hadn’t spoken up.

‘About time. Can we get going now?’

Laura gave Finn what she hoped was a meaningful look. It had taken all her powers of persuasion to convince him to come in the first place and she didn’t want him to get this moment wrong. Finn didn’t usually take much interest in Jasmine’s schooling but she had told him that the school play could be an important step forward for their daughter. Jasmine had been too quiet of late, making Laura painfully aware that when Finn had lost his job it had been the whole family who had been affected. Even with the temporary job there was still a good measure of insecurity in their lives and Jasmine needed to know that, despite that uncertainty, she had two parents who loved and cared for her.

When his wife’s piercing blue eyes pricked his conscience, Finn quickly added, ‘And well done from me too, Jazz.’

‘Did you work out which one was me, Dad?’

‘Of course I did, honey. You were the star of the show.’

Jasmine did her best to look sceptical but her eyes sparkled.

‘You did really well, Jasmine,’ Anna added. ‘And you should be very proud of yourself today.’ She then looked to Finn as if to say, can we go now?

Finn didn’t hesitate. ‘Me and your mum are going out for a meal now,’ he said to his daughter, ‘and you can stay over with Keira tonight as a special reward.’

Jasmine looked crestfallen and turned to her mum in the vain hope that she would overrule him. That look pulled at Laura’s heart and she wanted to tell Finn that perhaps they should put off the meal for another time. Finn hadn’t even mentioned going out and she had already eaten with Jasmine earlier. But she couldn’t risk Finn deciding to go out without her because, given half a chance, he would turn it into an all-night session and forget the small matter of getting up for work in the morning. Reluctantly, Laura cupped a hand around her daughter’s face. ‘Natalie will take you to school in the morning as usual, but I’ll see if I can leave work early and pick you up,’ she said softly. ‘We can have a special tea to celebrate, I promise.’

Tears stung Jasmine’s eyes and she wouldn’t look at her mum, choosing instead to glance towards the man who had been watching her and her mum intently without saying a word.

‘You remember Mr McIntyre, don’t you?’ Anna said. ‘He took us around Calderstones a few months ago.’

‘Is the tree all right?’ she asked.

Sam cleared his throat. ‘Stronger than ever.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re the park ranger who spun Jasmine that yarn about a tree with magical powers?’ Finn said with a laugh.

‘It’s the Wishing Tree,’ Jasmine corrected.

‘Is that so?’ her father asked. ‘I bet it didn’t grant your secret wish, did it?’

Jasmine gave a small shrug but said nothing.

‘You should know better than to fill your head with that kind of nonsense. It’s time to grow up, Jasmine,’ Finn said and then, realizing he had an audience, added gently, ‘You’re a big girl now.’

Jasmine’s lip trembled but when her dad winked at her she managed a smile and Laura knew she couldn’t put off the inevitable. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Natalie’s waiting for you.’

After a final hug goodbye, Jasmine scraped her heels along the floor towards Natalie. To Laura’s relief, she immediately started up an animated conversation with Keira, her disappointment apparently forgotten, and the two friends paid no further heed to their respective parents. When Natalie turned and waved at Laura to go it was all the encouragement that Finn needed.

While her husband was deep in conversation with Anna as they headed towards the car park, Laura trailed behind with Sam. Her daughter wasn’t the only one who could suffer from stage fright and, as they walked, Laura struggled to think of something to say to break the awkward silence. She knew very little about this man who wouldn’t realize how much he had turned her family around and she wanted to know more.

Sam had a powerful frame that could have made him appear intimidating, but looking at his face she didn’t think he was the type who would raise a hand in anger, not at all. A woman would feel protected in his arms and it had been a long time since Laura had felt like that with Finn. Her husband was a good man deep down, but there were times when his moods became so dark that he could see nothing but his own pain, and that was how it had been since he had lost his job at the builders’ merchants. Sam McIntyre might only think he had put in a good word to get Finn a job but he had been a shining light in their lives and Laura wished she could find the courage to tell him.

‘Thank—’ she began but Sam had also started to speak.

‘Did I get Jasmine into trouble—’ he began then stopped. ‘Sorry, what were you saying?’

‘Nothing,’ she said with a shake of the head. ‘I – I just wanted to say thank you for helping Finn get the job.’

‘Ach, it was nothing, honestly.’

There was another pause and Laura could feel herself becoming flustered. It wasn’t so much his deep voice that she was drawn to, but its gentleness, although she had the good sense not to close the distance she was deliberately keeping between them. ‘You asked about getting Jasmine into trouble?’

‘By filling her head with stories about the Wishing Tree.’

‘She has her head in the clouds most of the time and her dad thinks she needs pulling down to earth now and again, but it’s not an easy task,’ Laura said with a smile as a picture of her little Munchkin came to mind.

‘I’m guessing you didn’t know about the meal tonight,’ he said.

‘Oh, don’t worry about it. Finn does it all the time. It’s hard to keep up with him sometimes.’

Hearing his name, Finn turned around. ‘We were trying to decide where to go. How does Italian grab you?’

‘Fine by me,’ Sam said.

‘I don’t mind,’ Laura added, ‘I had something earlier so I’ll probably only pick at my food anyway.’ An expert at spotting the annoyance hidden behind the smile her husband was giving her for Sam’s benefit, she tried to sound a little more enthusiastic. ‘I’m sure I’ll have an appetite once I smell all that garlic, just don’t blame me if I end up like a big Italian Mamma.’

Sam gave her a self-conscious smile as if he wouldn’t want her to read his thoughts. ‘I can’t imagine that happening.’

An arm went around Laura’s waist and Finn pulled her away. ‘We’ll meet you there, shall we?’ he asked as Sam unlocked his Land Rover, and after confirming the restaurant and the route, they all set off.

It was Laura who drove and with the restaurant only a few minutes away Finn was quick with his questions. ‘So what do you think about Sam, then?’

‘I think they make a very nice couple,’ Laura said, choosing her words carefully. Her husband’s insecurities weren’t only restricted to his job prospects and it didn’t take much for Finn to convince himself that someone had designs on her. It made Laura especially cautious about even looking at another man, let alone having an opinion about one.

‘He’s a bit old for Anna, though, don’t you think? She could have the pick of them all but you can’t blame a man for trying and he does seem like a decent bloke.’

‘I’ve hardly said two words to him,’ Laura said, ‘although he must have had a good eye to spot you in the pub and know straight away what a good worker you can be.’

‘Yes, he definitely has a keen eye,’ Finn said, giving her leg a squeeze as Laura parked the car outside the restaurant.

They were the first to arrive and Finn ordered drinks even as the waiter was leading them to their table. Laura didn’t want to spoil Finn’s mood but she needed to say something before the others joined them. She took a deep breath and then, almost casually, said, ‘You need to be on your best behaviour tonight, Finn. Sam might be able to put in another good word with his friend to extend your contract beyond the summer.’

‘Why do you think I’m doing this?’ he said and they both smiled, Laura hiding her anxiety almost as well as Finn his irritation.

When Sam and Anna walked in, the waiter was arriving with the drinks.

‘Sorry, I’m driving,’ Sam told Finn when he saw the beer.

‘You can have one, surely,’ Finn persisted, pushing the pint across the table until it was within touching distance.

‘Honestly, no,’ Sam said firmly. ‘I’d rather not.’ He pushed it back in Finn’s direction and out of temptation’s reach.

Finn shrugged. ‘Can’t you get Anna to drive?’

Anna was already lifting her glass of wine to her lips. ‘Even if I was on his insurance, which I’m not,’ she said with a meaningful look at her boyfriend, ‘I deserve this and I’m not giving it up for anyone.’ She took a gulp and rolled her eyes in pleasure.

‘You’ll have to get this one trained up pretty sharpish, Sam,’ Finn said.

Anna spluttered her drink. ‘Excuse me! We’re not domestic animals and I hope you weren’t suggesting that’s what women are.’

‘No, I was simply trying to get a reaction from you,’ Finn said with a widening smile. ‘And it worked.’

While Finn and Anna had their faux stand-off, Laura exchanged a look with Sam who was sitting diagonally opposite. It was only the briefest of connections, nothing that would risk Finn’s attention, but it was enough to get the measure of Sam. He hadn’t shared Finn’s joke and she suspected he had a very different view of the world to her husband. His green eyes had a softness and depth that made Laura envy Anna, and even when she looked away she could still feel the warmth of his attention, or perhaps she only longed for it.

‘Joking aside, it would make sense if I went on your insurance,’ Anna was saying. ‘I could share the driving when we go to the caravan in Wales. Sam! Are you even listening?’

‘What? No, Anna, there’s no point in being on my insurance. It’s only an hour’s drive,’ he said.

‘You’re going on holiday?’ Finn asked. ‘I can’t remember the last time we went on one, can you, Laura?’

A smile appeared on Laura’s face as she summoned up the memory. ‘It would have been that trip to Ireland. Jasmine was only a toddler at the time,’ she said.

‘Yeah, a lifetime ago,’ he said.

‘Don’t get too jealous, it’s not a holiday,’ Sam told them. ‘I’m doing some work for a friend of a friend and I promised Anna I’d take her there for the day to measure up the job.’

‘He never stops,’ Anna added. ‘He deserves a break.’

‘Unlike you teachers,’ Finn said playfully. ‘You have it made, don’t you? I wish I had six weeks off over the summer.’

‘You’ve just had plenty of time off, even if it wasn’t your choice,’ Laura reminded him. ‘And you complained nonstop about being at home all day, Finn.’

Finn was nodding. ‘Yeah, I hated it, which brings us nicely to why we’re here. Even though you’re only on orange juice, Sam, I’d still like to make a toast,’ he said and waited for them to raise their glasses. ‘Here’s to my new best mate, Sam McIntyre, who got me out of a hole and back into work.’ He was laughing as they all took a sip of their drinks. ‘Although right now that’s exactly what I am doing – digging holes.’

‘You used to be a foreman, didn’t you?’ Anna asked.

The smile on Finn’s face was replaced by a scowl. ‘Yeah, until my boss stabbed me in the back. I gave him ten years of my life and had the yard working like clockwork.’

‘What happened?’ Sam asked.

Finn shrugged. ‘A difference of opinion; and then, when redundancies were mentioned, I got bumped to the top of the list.’




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