‘I don’t know where. . .’
‘You’re not going to find him crying in our doorway, that’s for sure. Come on.’
We searched for hours; the light fading, trees becoming silhouettes against the greying sky.
Lucy threw her hands up.
‘I give up. It’s hopeless. We’re never going to find him.’
My mother wasn’t having any of it.
‘Giving up’s not an option. Imagine how scared the poor thing must be in the dark on his own.’
I noticed then how dark it was, how few people were about. Matty’s voice in my head. Easy prey.
‘Maybe we should go back,’ I told my mother, her curly hair bouncing in the wind. ‘It’s not safe out here.’
‘It’s perfectly safe. Do you think I’d let anything happen to you?’
‘I mean. . . what if. . .’
I couldn’t bring myself to mention the killer directly. I had no problem bringing him up at home with the doors and windows shut, but out here it felt like a summoning spell. Talking of the devil.
My mother was less superstitious.
‘Being a Nervous Nellie isn’t going to help anyone. Now think, Lucy. If you were Mozart, what would you be doing right now?’
‘Looking for food, knowing him.’
A light went on in my mother’s eyes. She started marching in the direction of the café, leaving us to scamper after her.
‘Recognise anyone?’
The dachshund was sitting by the café door waiting for someone to open up and let him in.
‘Your mother’s the best,’ Lucy told me as we walked home, Mozart hoppitying at her heels.
‘Yeah, the café was a good call.’
She shook her head, put a hand on my arm to make me look at her.
‘Not just the café. I don’t know anyone else who’d have spent a whole afternoon looking for someone else’s dog.’
‘She didn’t mind,’ I said.
‘Exactly,’ Lucy replied.