'Have you asked them about him?'

'Yes. He was fine the last time they saw him. There's no reason to think he's gone missing.' The words 'gone missing' were the worse I could have chosen, sure to exacerbate Andrew's concern.

'What were they like, these men he went out with?'

'Northerners down for the weekend, good company for a night out, I expect.'

'Not those Newcastle louts that Tom told me about? You haven't let him go off with them.'

'I didn't let him exactly. He doesn't ask my permission before he goes anywhere.'

'Well can't you speak to them again? One of them must know something about what's happened to him.'

Whatever I said now was probably going to worry him more. The Geordies had told Tom and me all they knew about Darren's whereabouts earlier. As our main course arrived at the table, to appease Andrew I said, 'They'll be asleep now, they've been out all night. Let's give them an hour or so.'

We ate in near silence, and after consuming my last few mouthfuls under Andrew's relentless stare I went into the office to ring each of the three second-floor rooms in turn. They sounded half asleep, promised to be ready to leave on time, but as expected none of them had any additional information about Darren.

Glumly I reported back that there was no further news, adding that at least none of the Geordies had noticed anything amiss the previous night. Andrew pursed his lips but did not speak. After several minutes' silence, Tom, unable to bear the tension any longer, said, 'Saturday night, Andrew. The boy's been out enjoying himself. You know what lads are like, this morning he'll be sleeping it off somewhere.'

Andrew responded in a chillingly calm voice, his articulation so precise and controlled that he might have been intoning a prayer: 'And this afternoon too? There is a question of responsibility here, Tom. The boy is eighteen. He should be attending school, not scraping a living in some noxious kitchen. His parents have behaved abominably toward him. The question now is what are we to do about his disappearance?'

His use of the word disappearance made me wince. Darren's absence was spoiling the whole afternoon. Tom fed the growing air of crisis by offering to go to look for him. As he could have been anywhere in London, and only thirteen or fourteen hours had passed since the Geordies had seen him enjoying himself in the club, this seemed an extreme overreaction. 'He might be anywhere. While you're chasing around looking for him he'll probably stroll in as though nothing has happened. He's not been gone long enough to justify making a fuss.'




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