Journal, Tuesday 25.01.11

I arrived at the local shop at quarter to three, remembering that this was the time of the day that the shop had always been at its quietest - too late for the lunch time crowd, too early for the school run. The shop was empty, apart from a young girl behind the till, whom I didn't recognise, and an old woman, who seemed familiar, shuffling nervously in the produce aisle. I banged on the door to the office, hoping that some of the staff working in the shop would still remember me. To my surprise the door was answered by Marty, my old manger. He looked at me as though he was sure he recognised me but couldn't quite place me. When introduced myself, with a cheeky grin, it all came rushing back to him and he invited me into the staffroom for a cup of tea.


We prattled on for an hour or more about the good old days, Marty complaining that none of the new staff knew how to have a good time and urging me to consider moving back and resuming my old job as evening supervisor. The whole time, I nodded and spoke when asked a question, but my mind was preoccupied by how I could possibly shoehorn into the conversation that I wanted to speak to David, a guy that I had never met. Luckily, the door to the staff room swung open as I started on my third cup of tea and David entered, looking tired. Marty introduced him, though his name was on his badge, and explained that David had recently been promoted to night-time supervisor (which was also clear from his badge). And then Marty gave me the perfect opening, as David shoved his stuff into a locker, casually mentioning that David was dating Emily, my ex-girlfriend. "He's taken your job and your girl," Marty laughed. I didn't bother to argue, to tell Marty and David that Emily and I had never been a couple. Instead I eyed David, waiting to see what he would say. He mumbled something about needing to do something in the warehouse and shuffled off. Marty explained that David hadn't been getting any sleep recently and that he was "no doubt, up all night with that Emily girl". That, I didn't doubt but I rather suspected that Marty's ideas about what the two of them were up to every night were very different to mine.


On my way out of the shop, I told the girl at the counter that David hadn't showed up for work and that Marty had asked me to go and wake him up. She bought it and didn't hesitate when I asked her to give me directions to David's house.


When I arrived there, I found nothing out of the ordinary. I peered in the front window and was greeted by a woman, whom I assumed was David's mother, scowling at me.


So, that was a dead end. David obviously knows something but it doesn't seem like he's eager to share it with me. And why would he? I doubt very much that Emily has told him about me, about what we found out that summer - Harrison, Dicky, Emily and I.


I'm sure that my best lead is to recheck the notes that we made all those years ago, the notes that are, hopefully, still locked safely in my father's study. We must have missed something back then, something we were too young to understand or too frightened to allow ourselves to discover. Something that will give me some indication of what has happened to Emily.