The Runaway Read Online Free PDF Page A

he’s probably gone home.’ The lady’s head was surrounded by smoke. ‘Leonard Woolf’s dog crossed Ceylon and found him. Or go to the police, if all else fails.’
    Stella knew from her dad that the police didn’t start searching for someone until they had been missing for twenty-four hours, except for girls and boys. Then they looked straight away. She didn’t know how long they waited if it was a cat. Or a dog. Her dad would look for Hector right away. Stella felt a rush of relief. Her dad could find anything. When she was in Barons Court, he would come and find her.
    â€˜It will be an adventure!’ Terry Darnell had reached out and, lifting a strand of his daughter’s hair away from her eye, tucked it behind her ear. He did this even if her hair wasn’t in her eyes.
    â€˜I wish you were coming with us, Daddy,’ she had mumbled.
    â€˜So do I, Stell.’ He had stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.
    â€˜I’m not allowed pets, unless they’re fish,’ Stella announced now. ‘Mum says fish can be fun.’
    â€˜Fish – fun?’ The woman fanned away smoke. Her bangles flashed in the sunlight, clattering loudly. ‘With a dash of butter and lemon and a scattering of pepper.’
    Stella considered what a dash of butter would look like; did it move very fast?
    Then: ‘Is this one of your hiding places?’ The lady broke into Stella’s thoughts. ‘My youngest was always hiding with her friends. When you arrived I thought? Oh well. Stupid thought.’ The lady gave a harsh laugh and sucked so hard on her cigarette that Stella could see what she would look like if she was a skeleton.
    â€˜I don’t have hiding places.’ Stella was horrified. People who did bad things had to run and hide. Her dad was searching for a criminal called Harry Roberts on the day she was born. Stella often asked to hear the story again on the nights her dad tucked her up in bed. She looked about her. ‘The only place to hide here is under the river.’
    â€˜Yes. It is.’ The lady blew out another smoke ring. Stella watched it break up into nothing. ‘Spying, my daughter called it. She could drive my husband mad, tucked behind a chair or a sofa with her notebook.’
    Stella nodded. Detectives had to be spies; they had to watch and then collect Vital Information.
    â€˜You watching the nuptials?’ the lady enquired, looking out at the river as if Stella was there.
    â€˜I, er…’ Stella didn’t know about ‘nup-shells’. Nothing on the mud around her offered a hint.
    â€˜The royal wedding. All eight hours of it. Two more than they gave to Churchill’s funeral. Riveting. Are you and your family going to gather round the goggle box along with the rest of the nation?’
    â€˜Me and my dad are watching it at a party.’ Until that moment, Stella had forgotten about the party. ‘My mum is finishing off the last few bits and pieces.’ Stella echoed her mother’s words of that morning over the cooling breakfast.
    â€˜You horse-mad? My other daughter is; Gina likes them better than humans. Perhaps she has a point.’ The lady wasn’t smiling. Stella was used to her mum and dad making jokes that they didn’t think were funny.
    Stella’s dad had taken her to see the horses at the police station. Walking down the aisle of the stables, she had kept close to him. The horses’ heads poked out of the stalls on either side, their faces looming. Stella had shrunk from the stamp of their hooves and their snorting nostrils, their teeth bared like ice lollies.
    â€˜I don’t like horses,’ she said quietly.
    â€˜Trample you at the drop of a hat.’ The lady blew out a cloud of smoke.
    A trail of cigarette smoke made Stella’s eyes smart; she dashed at them with the back of her hand.
    â€˜I’m going to the police party to see the wedding on a