They enter the wood just a few metres away. Now is the moment to confront him and calmly state my case, but he’s striding along with a glazed expression that unnerves me and I draw back, crouching down into the undergrowth. Perhaps the little girl just needs a pee in which case they won’t be long. Maybe I can salvage something from this disaster after all.
From my hiding place I watch them approach. The man looks tense, even angry. The child is being pulled along unwillingly. Why is she resisting if she needs to go to the toilet? She seems tired and scared. There’s something wrong here but I’m not sure what it is. Saliva rushes into my mouth. I swallow. I have an odd feeling that I should do something, but what?
They pass by so close I can hear his laboured breathing and her moans of distress. They disappear into the wood behind me.
The sky is beautiful – scudding pewter clouds against scarlet, deepening every second. That’s my business, that’s what I’m here for. The man, the little girl – they have nothing to do with me. I just wish they would go away.
21.04 hours
The track around the lake is rough and bumpy, not meant for motor vehicles. The exhaust bangs on a stray rock.
“Over there.” Brett points across the lake to where a red car is parked next to a clump of trees.
“Get on the Airwave and call for back-up,” I tell him. “And ask them to put the helicopter on standby.”
We rise inches into the air as I take a curve too sharply. Brett gives me a look but I don’t care if I trash the car. I don’t care if the driver of the red car hears us coming. I know the track becomes impassable beyond those trees except on foot so he can’t escape in that direction. If he drives towards us we’ll throw a stinger in his path and wreck his tyres. Personally I would happily crash into him and bring him to a halt that way. But it’s not an option. Natalie might be in the car. She’s what matters. She’s all that matters.
Even before I’ve come to a standstill Brett is out of the car and running. He yanks open the doors of the Astra then the boot.
“Empty!” he shouts.
I stand between the two cars and scan the scene. The track is deserted up ahead. The water is silky-smooth, unruffled. I turn towards the trees. Something glints in the light from the bright red sunset. Metal? Glass? There’s movement. A man. Grey hair, beard, leather jacket. He looks startled, steps back and disappears.
Brett’s seen him too. He rushes ahead of me into the bushes.
“Get him!” I scream. “Get the bastard!”
I can’t believe it when I hear the second car, coming fast along the track as if this is Silverstone or something. Joy riders, no doubt. I expect to hear loud music coming from the car’s speakers, but as I stand up I see with a shock the jazzy blue and yellow flashes. Police.
A young man in uniform leaps out and checks the red car. A female officer joins him. The car is empty. I could have told them that. They look round in desperation.
Sky and water have almost reached the moment of perfection I have been waiting for so patiently. If they find what they’re looking for and go away, I might yet capture a truly glorious shot.
I take a few steps forward. When they see me, both of them have the same look of disgust and hatred in their eyes. The man hurtles towards me. Some deep blind instinct tells me to turn and run.
I can hear him close behind me, crashing through the bushes. He grabs me round the waist and knocks me to the ground. I feel my right shoulder bone crunch. I lie there winded and shocked.
“Where is she?” he yells. “What have you done with her?”
Now the woman is towering over me, her face tight.
“Tell us where she is.”
“Who?” My voice is shaking. It sounds weak and pitiful but all my strength has drained out of me.
“The little girl. Natalie. What have you done with her?”
I raise my left hand – the right one seems to have lost all connection to my body – and point to the trees. “In there. Both of them.”
They glance at each other.
“Both?” asks the woman. “You mean… there are two girls?”
“No. A child and a man.”
The male officer sets off but she calls him back.
“You stay with him. I’ll go.”
21.07 hours
The bit of daylight that’s left barely penetrates in here. I switch on my torch, pointing it down, and inch my way forward. I strain my ears, listening for human sounds beneath the rustle of leaves, the movement of small creatures, the soft breeze that cools the sweat on my back.
I go deeper and deeper into the wood, searching for a ribbon, a strand of light brown hair caught on a bush. Anything.
There’s a sudden commotion behind me. I swing round and bring the torch level. I see a man running through the undergrowth, arms flailing, heading back towards the lake.
“Brett! He’s coming your way!”
“We saw something shining,” says the policeman. He swipes at the tree branches.
I struggle up from where I’m squatting on a patch of damp moss.
“It’s my camera.”
“Show me.”
I lead him to where the Canon still sits on the tripod.
“Did you take pictures of them?”
“No, of course not. I specialize in landscapes.” I point to the lake and the spectacular sunset. “I was all set up and ready when that man, not to mention you and your colleague, came along and ruined my shot.”
“Ruined your shot?” His voice is full of contempt. “You saw a man take a little girl into the woods, and all you care about is taking snaps?”
“It’s none of my business.”
He bunches his fist and draws his arm back. But at the last moment he slaps his arm down by his side. He takes a running kick at the tripod. It keels over and smashes on to the ground.
“ Have you any idea how much that camera cost?”
From the look on his face he’s going to tell me what I can do with my precious camera. But in the distance we can hear the woman shouting. The man in the tracksuit bursts through the trees. The policeman barges him in the stomach. He collapses, grunting loudly. The officer kneels on him, takes handcuffs from his pocket and secures his wrists behind his back. The man utters an obscenity then lies quiet.
21.13 hours
“Natalie?”
She’s lying very still under a tree. Her dress is muddy and torn. She’s wearing one pink sandal. The other lies on the ground, exposing a smooth pale foot.
“Natalie,” I whisper. “It’s all right. It’s all right now.”
But my throat is thick. It’s not all right. It will never be all right.
I gently touch her leg. Still warm. Her arm, her cheek.
Her eyelids flutter.
“Natalie!” I don’t mean to shout but I can’t help it. She flinches. Her eyes shoot open with terror.
“I’m a police officer,” I say quietly. She puts her arms out to me and my heart buckles. I hold her tight.
The world has gone mad. The air is filled with the sound of sirens. Two more police cars arrive and the man in the tracksuit is bundled into the back of one of them.
The female officer emerges from the woods, carrying the little girl. The child clings to the woman, arms circling her neck, legs gripping her waist, the way a young chimp clings to its mother. The woman walks past me, without so much as a glance, but when she reaches her colleague I hear her tell him to get my details. She places the child in the back seat of her car and gets in the front.