Young Writers Society

As you’ve probably noticed, I didn’t like Henri. In fact I hated having her around. I didn’t actually notice it at first because I was too busy feeling sorry for myself; I scolded her all the time, ignored her, and left her on her own. If I had the chance to go back to that first day, when I found her sitting on the doorstep, I would quite happily have said ‘Sorry, I think you have the wrong address.’ I wouldn’t have even cared where she went from there.

So what made everything change? That night was one I remember quite well, because it was the one that would either make us or break us.

Monday, January 10th.

It wasn’t a particularly dark night. In winter it gets dark at about four o’clock round here, but the sky was cloudy and the city lights kept it brighter.

I left school through the back way and started my usual fast walk to the nursery. I was always a slow pacer. Until Henri came along.

I arrived at the school, composed myself, and walked through the gates. Leah’s narrow eyes widened slightly when I arrived.

‘Good afternoon,’ I smiled brightly. ‘Is she still playing?’ Leah frowned, then called back to Hannah.

‘Hannah! Leon’s here to pick up Henri.’

Hannah came to the door with a slight look of worry. The way she spoke reminded me of the way a doctor would tell you that you’ve got some life-threatening illness.

‘Henri’s not here.’ Not… Here?

‘Where is she?’ The feeling inside was the kind of feeling you get when you drop hot water, or miss a step. It’s that feeling you get when you suddenly realise something isn’t right, before you understand that something is wrong.

‘She left. She said she was going to play in the front until you got here.’

‘She might just be in the tree house,’ Leah said quickly. ‘She and Connor hide in there a lot.’

I took a deep breath and walked slowly over to the tree house. It was a plastic den at the top of a small climbing structure, covered in a leafy pattered. It fit Henri quite well. She was the kind of person who would enjoy having a high perspective on things.

Inside it I found a confused little blond boy with a streak of dirt on his left temple.

‘Connor?’ He nodded. ‘Do you know where Henrietta is?’

‘Henri left,’ he said. He didn’t seem particularly alarmed, children don’t worry about the things adults do. They wait for adults to react, and when he saw the stress on my face he started to fidget nervously. ‘She didn’t say anything.’ He used his sleeve to scratch at his nose frantically.

‘Nothing at all?’ He shook his head again. I ran from the tree house, then quickly turned back to give him my card. Yes, I had cards. Now isn’t really the time to go into that. ‘Give this, to your mum.‘ I stuffed it in his shirt pocket. ‘Tell her to call if either of you sees Henri.’

I went back to Leah. ‘Is there any place she might go?’ I said. ‘I mean, did she ever mention a place?’ Leah gave me an odd look, and I knew exactly what it meant. Should I know Henri better than her teacher? I bowed my head in brief submission.

‘Should we contact the police?’ Hannah asked. She had a small blond child pulling on her arm, crying out for attention.

‘No,’ I forced an unconvincing smile. ‘No, she may have just walked home with someone else. If she turns up, call me.’

I could tell Hannah wanted to object, but little good could come from holding me back any longer. Leah nodded and said: ‘Let us know what happens.’

‘I will. Thank you for your help.’

Yeh, thanks for what?

I ran around the block, then started looking down the surrounding streets.

Where could she go?

How was I supposed to know?

I paused to catch my breath and find some logical way of searching.

She was new to the area, which could be an advantage or disadvantage, depending on the kid. Advantage; if she was going to go somewhere familiar, there weren’t many places she knew. Disadvantage; in an area so unfamiliar, she had more chance of getting lost or wandering in search of anything.

Children are illogical. They’re the kind of creatures who think that following bright colours will take them to the rainbow. Maybe she was following a red-haired woman, in hope that she might end up in a place where all red-haired women existed. Okay, now my thinking was absurd, but you never know what goes through a child’s mind.

‘Where are you, where are you, where are you?’ I said aloud, in hope that it would help me keep my head.

By the time it reached five o’clock I was hungry, exhausted, and bordering on total panic. What would people think of me when they found out I couldn’t even pick a child up from school.

Think, Leon, think. Was there anywhere at all Henri might have gotten attached to?

I climbed over the fence to check the schoolyard again; behind the trees, under the slides, in the tree house, in the trees. There I slumped down on the caterpillar bench, lifted my head and took a deep breath. My chest hurt.

I had to consider the possibility of phoning the police. There was a high possibility that someone had picked her up. Perhaps it was a friendly person, wondering if she was lost. Perhaps it was an unfriendly person. Perhaps it was a bad person who had hold of Henri right then.

I ran towards the bin I lurched forward.

Do you know what people mean when they say; ‘Worried Sick?’