15. Now

I sit in Neil's office as the replies to the emergency tree messages come in. Reports of Jenna in art doing strange things with black paint, Jenna on the steps with her headphones on at break, Jenna washing her hands in the bathroom. Nothing after English class this morning.

Mr Whitlow frowns at the screen.

‘Is something wrong?' I ask.

But he shakes his head. ‘No – nothing.'

‘Nothing?'

‘I… The replies seem a bit slow. But it is a Friday.'

I bite my lip. ‘What could that mean?'

‘Most probably nothing. Did you say some of them were at a party?'

‘Yes, but the mother checked. Jenna isn't there.'

‘Do you know if she was invited?'

‘I don't know. I'll ask.' I text the mother then call Ava again. ‘She isn't back, is she?'

‘Sorry, Auntie Fran.'

I hang up and pace between the bookcase and the world map. ‘Rose Godfrey gets the bus. Did she get it today? Did Jenna get it with her?'

Mr Whitlow nods. ‘I've already reached out to the bus company. They're trying to get hold of the driver.' He starts clicking on his computer again.

‘Can we check CCTV?' I ask.

He nods again. ‘Once security have finished searching, they'll get to it.'

I scratch my neck and rifle through my memory. ‘Security – that's just one man, isn't it?'

Mr Whitlow coughs. ‘Yes, it is. One man with specialist training.'

I can feel my lips flattening. ‘I need to do something. I can't just—' I hold up my hands, gesturing at the walls of the room, which feels like a prison.

‘I think the best thing you can do is track down your parents,' he says.

I hurry down the school hall and call my father three times, then Jenna, Rose and Lydia. No answers. I almost trip down the front steps and forget to unlock my car before pulling at the door.

I slide into the thick heat, telling myself to stay positive.

Maybe Lydia fetched them early to go to a gig. But Rose went to drama, and Jenna didn't. Is it likely they left school together? Maybe they met up after.

No one knows where my daughter is.

Unless someone knows where my daughter is.

The fountain has been turned off and my thoughts are too loud.

What am I supposed to do?

I call Dan again, but he doesn't pick up. I leave a message. ‘Dan, I…'

I think my old nemesis has abducted our daughter.

But that sounds crazy. And I don't think that, do I? Not really.

‘I've just been to PES. No one has seen Jenna since lunch. She didn't go to her rehearsal. I'm starting to get worried. Call me.'

I drop the phone in the passenger seat and wonder if I should've explained about Georgia, because… a teenager skived off and is late home – what's the big deal? He's not going to understand how worried he should be.

But then I'd have to tell him everything.

Rose is the key. If she won't pick up, I'll go to her home. That's probably where Jenna is anyway.

I pull out of the driveway and into the lane, thinking of scenarios that could explain all this: Jenna dropped her phone in the toilet (again). Jenna had a secret doctor's appointment – for what? A pain, a lump, the pill? Jenna forgot to tell me she was going to Rose's after school and they're screaming along to some music.

When Rose told Georgia that Jenna had gone home ill, was Rose covering for Jenna, or was it the truth? Had Jenna felt ill and somehow not made it home?

Or had Georgia lied to Mr Whitlow about even asking Rose? Had she done something to Jenna at lunch and then worked the rest of the day like nothing had happened?

No. Rose was covering. Jenna skived off at lunch because she was feeling down and…

She was feeling down, wasn't she?

Suddenly I see it: the hair. Dark clumps scattered across white tiles.

I bite my lip. The haircut wasn't because she fancied a change. It was a cry for help.

And I missed it.

But yes, Jenna skived off and then Rose met her and they're somewhere having fun. Maybe they've gone to meet Sylvie, Devon and Dinae. I could go into Port Emblyn, but the cafés they like will have closed, as will the record shop, and I'd cheer with joy if I ever heard a report of my baby sneaking into a pub for some underage drinking, it's that unlikely. They could just be eating fish and chips on the sea wall, or chatting to the boys who run the little boat taxi.

She's friends with those boys, isn't she? She went to sailing school with one of them and he doesn't go to PES.

I pull over, scraping my already scraped car on the hedge, and search through WhatsApp till I find an old group with his mum in and text her.

Five friends – is that it? Rose, Dinae, Devon and Sylvie, and now this boat taxi boy. Shouldn't there be more people to call? I've dug up this boy from ancient history. And it's not like I've seen the others apart from Rose recently.

Is she really friends with Boat Taxi Boy or is it just that we got the taxi recently? Those boys chat to everyone. It's how they earn tips.

Devon and Dinae's mother still hasn't replied. I message Sylvie's mother, realising I haven't yet, and see my last message with her was over a year ago – she had to cancel on Jenna joining them for Sunday lunch.

I'm surprised by my tears. Has Jenna not seen Sylvie since then? Did they fall out? I know Sylvie's mother from the PTA and I wonder why it hasn't ever come up that our children don't see each other any more – why I've never thought to ask her or Jenna… or myself.

Bad mother. Bad, bad mother.

I restart the car and a memory comes back to me. Bad weather had meant we'd had to cancel Jenna's last birthday party. When I asked her when we should reschedule, she shrugged and said she just wanted to do something small.

I remember watching her making a daisy chain, sitting on the grass with Rose at a tiny folk music festival. We were watching a four-man band, and I thought, Is this really how she wants to spend her sixteenth? Or is something wrong?

And then I turned to Dan and said, ‘We're so lucky. What other kid would choose to spend their birthday with their parents, doing this?'

Why had I said the opposite of what I was thinking?

Dan shrugged. ‘I hope she learns how to have fun.'

‘This is fun for her.'

‘Is it?'

‘Everyone is different. Don't judge.'

He shook his head at me and went off in search of more cider, and somehow I was angry with him for not wanting Jenna to be different, for thinking the same thing as me, and I never tried to find out if Jenna really was okay.

Does Jenna not have friends any more? Has it been going on since then? Have I been so wrapped up in my own problems that I haven't seen it?

She cut off all her hair, and we drove to school in silence. I didn't say a thing. I didn't even try.

And then I saw Georgia, and instead of screaming at Jenna to get back in the car NOW! I told her to have a nice day. I didn't even tell her I loved her.