Read Online Girl, Missing by Sophie McKenzie - Free Book Online

a stool, his legs propped up on the counter in front of him. As I walked over, he looked up and pushed back his long, greasy fringe. ‘Hey,’ he drawled. ‘I just told your boyfriend. Two minutes.’
    â€˜I know,’ I said. ‘I was just wondering if you knew where this was?’ I laid the scrap of paper on the counter.
    The man scratched his head. ‘I got no idea about Lincoln Heights, but Leavington’s ten miles or so,’ he said.
    I stared at him, then back at the scrap of paper. ‘Leaving’ wasn’t ‘leaving’. It was the start of . . .
    â€˜Leavington?’
    â€˜Yep. It’s on the way to Burlington. But I thought you wanted to go straight to the airport?’
    My heart pounded. I ran back to Jam.
    He was looking out of the window. ‘I can’t hear any police up by the motel. But if Tarsen’s been watching us . . .’ He turned and saw my face, all eager. ‘What?’
    I explained about the address. ‘It’s got to be Sonia’s. She might still be there,’ I said, breathlessly.
    I’d expected Jam to suggest we went to Leavington immediately. But instead he shook his head.
    â€˜Get real, Lazerbrain,’ he said. He wasn’t smiling.
    My heart sank. ‘What?’
    â€˜This could be anyone’s address . . .’
    â€˜But it was in my file,’ I said.
    â€˜Plus it’s at least eleven years old.’ Jam rolled his eyes. ‘Look, we tried to find your file. It wasn’t there. What else can we do? Don’t you . . . I mean, doesn’t it seem to you like you’re getting kind of obsessed?’
    I don’t think I would have felt more shocked if he’d slapped me. ‘No.’ I blinked and stepped away from him. ‘I’m not obsessed.’
    â€˜Then why do you want to go to an old address on a random scrap of paper? It’s ridiculous.’
    â€˜No it’s not,’ I said, stung. ‘If it was in my file, then it must have something to do with my adoption. And MrTarsen virtually admitted Sonia Holtwood was my mother, so . . .’
    â€˜Even if the address
is
to do with your adoption, if you were stolen from your real family it’s not likely to be genuine, is it?’
    I was sure he was wrong. But what he said sounded so logical I couldn’t see how to disagree with it.
    â€˜Fine,’ I snapped. ‘Thanks for your help.’
    Jam turned on me. ‘Jesus, Lauren,’ he hissed. ‘I’ve just broken into a building for you. How much more help d’you want?’
    I stared at him, my breathing fast and my jaw clenched.
    â€˜If that’s how you feel about it, I’ll go there by myself.’
    I marched over to the chairs on the other side of the room and slumped into the seat in the corner. The floor was stained and dirty. I kicked at a scuff mark. How dare Jam say I was obsessed? Let him try and live not knowing about his past. He’d soon realise how hard it was. Like walking through an earthquake. The ground always shifting under your feet as you imagined one possible history after another.
    I bent over, determined Jam shouldn’t see me cry.
    Silence. Then the cab operator called Jam over to his booth. I could hear them speaking in low voices.
    I wiped my eyes. Footsteps. A shadow fell over the scuff mark on the floor. Jam squatted down in front of me.
    He leaned towards me, his head tilted sideways, trying to see my face.
    â€˜The cab’s ready,’ he said. He paused. ‘D’you really want to go to this Leavington place?’
    I nodded, still not trusting myself to look up at him.
    Jam put his hand on the chair next to me. ‘On your own?’ he said.
    I gritted my teeth. It was no good. Just the thought of doing all this by myself was enough to turn me into a quivering wreck.
    â€˜No,’ I sobbed. ‘I want you to come.’ I looked up at him, a tear trickling down my cheek.