LITMIR.BIZ

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likeness though curiously expressionless, which made him think of the first time he’d seen her from the bus when she’d stared back at him through the window.

      He kept thinking about the times he’d seen her near the sawmill and about the two figures he’d glimpsed vanishing among the trees on Saturday. He’d been thinking about it all day.

      When he got off the bus Adam went to the sawmill. The saws were quiet and men were packing up or leaving for the day, though Nick was still working in the shed stacking freshly cut planks of pine. He found David outside the tearoom underneath the office and took him aside before he handed him the paper.

      ‘Have you seen this?’

      He watched as David read the headline, his gaze lingering over the identikit picture of the girl. Though he frowned slightly he didn’t react in any other way.

      ‘The police want to talk to anyone who knows her.’

      David regarded him blankly. ‘What of it?’

      ‘Shouldn’t you talk to them?’

      They could hear David’s father talking on the phone through the open door at the top of the stairs. David lowered his voice.

      ‘Me? Why me?’

      ‘Well, you talked to her that night at the disco.’

      ‘Adam, I spoke to her for about a minute. That’s all. I don’t know her.’

      Adam experienced a sense of relief. What had he thought anyway? It must have been somebody else he’d seen in the trees with Meg.

      Just then Nick came over from the shed. He looked curiously from one to the other. ‘What’s up?’

      David handed him the paper and after he’d read the headlines he glanced at David and gave it back. There was something in his expression that Adam couldn’t put his finger on.

      ‘So?’

      The question was directed towards Adam. Suddenly his relief evaporated, though he wasn’t sure why. ‘I’ve seen her a couple of times,’ he said. ‘In the trees across the river. I got the impression she was waiting for someone.’

      ‘What if she was?’

      He didn’t know how to answer. ‘I’m pretty sure I saw her there on Saturday. She was with somebody.’

      Nobody spoke. The silence seemed to press down on Adam like a heavy weight.

      ‘Did you see who it was?’ David asked finally.

      There was something faintly challenging about his tone. ‘Not really. I mean I’m not sure. I thought I did, but …’ Adam broke off. He was struck by the way Nick was looking at him. That same old sneer.

      ‘But what?’ David said.

      Something clicked in his brain. All of a sudden he was certain that it was David he’d seen. ‘Nothing.’ Adam met his eye. ‘Nothing, I don’t know who it was.’

      The story about the missing girl remained on the front page for the rest of the week. Findlay wrote a feature about the gypsy way of life which delved into the historical roots of Romany travellers and the suspicion and distrust they encountered wherever they went. The evidence that they were involved in petty crime was indisputable but some of the other things gypsies were accused of such as illegal prostitution and gambling, along with many of the more lurid myths like baby stealing, were less common and in some cases had probably never been true.

      As the days passed and despite massive searches there was no sign of Meg Coucesco. The Courier reported the police speculation that she had merely run away. Adam read each report with increasing unease. He kept replaying the scene in the yard with David and Nick when he’d felt compelled to deny what he’d seen. Though he asked himself why he’d done it he already knew the answer. It was for the same reason that he hadn’t asked David since then to explain himself. He wanted to show David that he trusted him, that he could be trusted in return, as much as Nick. Even more.

      As the days passed he found himself facing a dilemma. He knew he ought to persuade David to go to the police because he must know something about Meg Coucesco’s disappearance. He didn’t believe that David had done anything to hurt her, but the problem was whenever he decided to talk to David he always found Nick around, and anyway as each day went by he became less certain about what he’d seen. Sometimes he thought he had glimpsed David’s face, if only for a moment, and at other times he was sure he hadn’t seen anything more than a tall, indistinct shape. The fact that David seemed completely normal and utterly untroubled only added to his self-doubt. David, in fact, took little interest in the story.

      One evening he questioned Angela about what she remembered. ‘When we were out by the river on Saturday, did you see anything in the trees across from the sawmill?’

      She looked mystified. ‘Like what?’

      ‘I don’t know. Anything. I thought I saw somebody.’

      ‘You didn’t say anything. Who was it?’

      ‘I don’t know. It was probably nothing.’

      The day afterwards at work he caught Findlay watching him thoughtfully and when he had to deliver some copy to the pub where Findlay was again ensconced, the reporter took it without even a glance and gestured to a chair.

      ‘Why don’t you sit down, Adam?’

      He wanted to refuse but didn’t see how he could. Findlay lit a cigarette and studied him through a haze of smoke.

      ‘Would you like a drink of something?’

      ‘No thanks. I have to get back.’

      ‘Don’t be in such a rush, laddie. Stay here a minute and let’s have a wee chat. The place’ll no fall down without you.’ He chuckled softly to himself. ‘I suppose you’ll be finishing with us soon to go back to school, eh?’

      ‘In a couple of weeks.’

      ‘Aye, you’ll probably be glad to get back.’

      Adam didn’t reply. He had a feeling this was leading somewhere, that Findlay was interested in more than how he felt about going back to school.

      ‘This business about the wee gypsy lassie has affected us all. It makes you think when something like this happens in your own back yard. It must have been bothering you too, eh, Adam?’

      ‘No more than anyone else I suppose.’

      ‘No? I thought since you live over that way … Mebbe you’d seen the girl around, you know.’

      ‘I might have once or twice.’

      ‘Is that so? What was she like?’

      ‘I don’t know. I never spoke to her.’

      ‘But I mean, what was she like to look at? It’s hard to tell from the identikit pictures, you know? Would you say she was pretty?’

      ‘I suppose so.’

      ‘Mebbe the police are right then, do you think? Could be she just met a lad from some other town and they ran away together. Did you ever see her with anyone?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Not even with a local lad?’

      ‘No.’

      Findlay stared at him. He had the uncomfortable feeling that the reporter could see everything that he was thinking.

      ‘Mebbe you heard something about a lad the girl might have been seeing, even if you didnae actually see them yerself.’ Findlay persisted. ‘There’re rumours she was seeing somebody you know.’

      ‘I never heard anything,’ Adam said.

      ‘Ah well, it was just a thought, you know.’ Findlay made a gesture as if to dismiss the subject. He lit another cigarette, and smiled. ‘Let’s talk about something else,

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