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Authors: Graham Marks
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and down the aisles armed with clip boards and biros, fussing like mother hens as they checked off âtheirâ people.
And then the serious stuff began to happen: overhead lockers were closed, seatbelts were checked, hand luggage stowed, and final warnings given about turning off mobile phones and other electrical equipment. Take-off was imminent. His mission was ready for go.
Nothing he could do now but watch movies and eat food.
Sarah Grey got home just after six p.m., glad to find that Adam had remembered to double-lock the front door and wondering if heâd managed to lock up at the back. Teenage boys appeared to have brains capable of concentrating for what seemed like days on computer games, but were totally incapable of remembering the small but important things in life. Like basic home security or flushing the toilet.
As she pushed the door open Sarah could feel there was post behind it, but she was in a hurry; Dave and Jess were coming round for dinner, which she hadnât even begun to prepare, and Tony could pick the post up when he got back. You never knew, Adam might do it if he came home first. As she walked down the hall the last thought almost made her laugh.
Dave and Jess, two of their oldest, closest friends, had suggested the four of them meet up and go out for a meal. But Sarah knew that with the way she felt, preparing and cooking food â actually
doing
something â would distract her. It would keep her mind off Charlie, off her motherâs slow, inexorable plummet into dementia and the picture in her head of her dad wandering through their house like a lost soul, if only for a short time. Sarah had decided to cook something she hadnât done before so sheâd really have to concentrate: a Thai green curry, from scratch, no packets, nothing prepared.
Unpacking the three carrier bags sheâd brought in from the car she had a momentary panic that there wasnât enough food, that sheâd forgotten to include Adam in her calculationsâ but there was, and she hadnât. Anyway, he probably wouldnât be home when they ate, or even eat with them if he was, but she liked to have food there for him when he wanted it. Tony thought she mollycoddled Adam and she knew she probably did, a bit, but why not? He wasnât going to be living with them for ever.
In the end, after a couple of tricky moments, the meal had turned out to be pretty good, if she did say so herself. Even the rice, and Sarah was not known for being good at rice. Delicious though the food was, the main focus of the evening was not on the quality of her culinary skills. It was inevitable that just about all theyâd talked about was Charlie â what else, under the circumstances, was there to do: discuss house prices?
The fact was, when Charlie wasnât the topic of conversation, it was ageing, terminal parents they talked about. Sarah had known that that was how the evening was going to go, and had had no desire to get emotionally shredded in public. Bursting into tears in front of friends, ones like David and Jess who cared and understood, was absolutely fine â it was a huge relief being able to talk to people who didnât just nod at you sympathetically â but it wasnât something she could do in a restaurant.
After the weeping and the food and tears, Tony brought Dave and Jess up to speed with what heâd been told at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, which, when you added it all up, didnât amount to much; the police, through Interpol, had contacted the Tokyo police authorities, and the FCO had contacted the UK embassy in Tokyo, who would, in turn, be getting in touch with all the consulates in other cities. The investigation into Charlieâs disappearance wouldapparently be handled entirely by the Japanese police, who, the FCO official had said, were unlikely to ask for help as their resources were more than adequate. They would, said the official,
And then the serious stuff began to happen: overhead lockers were closed, seatbelts were checked, hand luggage stowed, and final warnings given about turning off mobile phones and other electrical equipment. Take-off was imminent. His mission was ready for go.
Nothing he could do now but watch movies and eat food.
Sarah Grey got home just after six p.m., glad to find that Adam had remembered to double-lock the front door and wondering if heâd managed to lock up at the back. Teenage boys appeared to have brains capable of concentrating for what seemed like days on computer games, but were totally incapable of remembering the small but important things in life. Like basic home security or flushing the toilet.
As she pushed the door open Sarah could feel there was post behind it, but she was in a hurry; Dave and Jess were coming round for dinner, which she hadnât even begun to prepare, and Tony could pick the post up when he got back. You never knew, Adam might do it if he came home first. As she walked down the hall the last thought almost made her laugh.
Dave and Jess, two of their oldest, closest friends, had suggested the four of them meet up and go out for a meal. But Sarah knew that with the way she felt, preparing and cooking food â actually
doing
something â would distract her. It would keep her mind off Charlie, off her motherâs slow, inexorable plummet into dementia and the picture in her head of her dad wandering through their house like a lost soul, if only for a short time. Sarah had decided to cook something she hadnât done before so sheâd really have to concentrate: a Thai green curry, from scratch, no packets, nothing prepared.
Unpacking the three carrier bags sheâd brought in from the car she had a momentary panic that there wasnât enough food, that sheâd forgotten to include Adam in her calculationsâ but there was, and she hadnât. Anyway, he probably wouldnât be home when they ate, or even eat with them if he was, but she liked to have food there for him when he wanted it. Tony thought she mollycoddled Adam and she knew she probably did, a bit, but why not? He wasnât going to be living with them for ever.
In the end, after a couple of tricky moments, the meal had turned out to be pretty good, if she did say so herself. Even the rice, and Sarah was not known for being good at rice. Delicious though the food was, the main focus of the evening was not on the quality of her culinary skills. It was inevitable that just about all theyâd talked about was Charlie â what else, under the circumstances, was there to do: discuss house prices?
The fact was, when Charlie wasnât the topic of conversation, it was ageing, terminal parents they talked about. Sarah had known that that was how the evening was going to go, and had had no desire to get emotionally shredded in public. Bursting into tears in front of friends, ones like David and Jess who cared and understood, was absolutely fine â it was a huge relief being able to talk to people who didnât just nod at you sympathetically â but it wasnât something she could do in a restaurant.
After the weeping and the food and tears, Tony brought Dave and Jess up to speed with what heâd been told at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, which, when you added it all up, didnât amount to much; the police, through Interpol, had contacted the Tokyo police authorities, and the FCO had contacted the UK embassy in Tokyo, who would, in turn, be getting in touch with all the consulates in other cities. The investigation into Charlieâs disappearance wouldapparently be handled entirely by the Japanese police, who, the FCO official had said, were unlikely to ask for help as their resources were more than adequate. They would, said the official,
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