54

I don’t think she’s here.” Graham walked toward Jack in the wooded area of Glin. In the distance, fireworks were going off over Foynes as the village celebrated the last few moments of the Irish Coffee Festival. They both stopped to look up.

“I have a feeling you might be right,” Jack finally admitted. They had spent the last few hours searching the scene where Sandy had deserted her car and, despite the fact it had fallen dark mid-search, Jack had insisted they continue. These were not practical searching conditions and he could see the others checking their watches. “Thanks for letting me try,” Jack said as they walked along the pathway back to the car.

Suddenly there was a loud crash; a sound as though a tree had come down. A thud and a female cry. The men both froze and each looked at the other.

“Which way did that come from?” Graham asked, spinning around, shining his flashlight in every direction. They heard groaning coming from farther up on their left and all involved rushed to find her. Jack’s flashlight fell upon Sandy, lying on her back, her leg looking dislocated, blood on her hand and staining her clothes.

“Oh, my God.” He rushed forward and kneeled down by her side. “She’s here!” he called to the others, and they hurried over crowding around her.

“OK, let’s move back, give her space.” Graham radioed for an ambulance.

“I don’t want to move her. Her head is bleeding heavily and it looks like her leg’s broken too. Oh, God, Sandy, talk to me.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jack Ruttle,” he said, relieved she’d opened her eyes.

“Keep her talking, Jack,” Graham said.

“Jack?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you missing, too?”

“What? No.” He frowned. “No, I’m not missing.” He looked at Graham worriedly. Graham made motions to keep her talking.

“Where am I?” she asked in confusion, looking around. She tried to move her head and called out in pain.

“Don’t move. An ambulance is on its way. You’re in Glin, in Limerick.”

“Glin?” she repeated.

“Yes, we were supposed to meet here last week, remember?”

“Am I home?” Her eyes filled with tears, which quickly fell over her mud-streaked face. “Donal,” she said suddenly, stopping her tears. “Donal wasn’t there.”

“Donal wasn’t where?”

“I was in this place, Jack. Oh, my God, this place where all the missing people were. Helena, Bobby, Joseph, Jenny-May, oh, my God, Helena’s play. I’m missing her play.” Tears fell quickly now. “I need to get up.” She struggled to move. “I have to go to the dress rehearsal.”

“You have to wait for the ambulance to come, Sandy. Don’t move.” He looked back to Graham. “She’s delusional. Where the hell is the ambulance?”

Graham radioed again. “On its way.”

“Who did this to you, Sandy? Tell me who did this and we’ll get them, I promise.”

“Nobody did.” She looked confused. “I fell. I told you I was in the place…where’s my photograph, I’ve lost a photograph. Oh, Jack, I’ve something to tell you,” she said softly now. “It’s about Donal.”

“Go on,” he urged.

“He wasn’t there. He wasn’t in…the place with everyone else. He’s not missing.”

“I know,” Jack said sadly. “We found him this morning.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“How did you know?”

“He wasn’t there, with all the missing people,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Stay with me, Sandy,” Jack said, with urgency in his voice.

My eyes opened to bright white, and my lids felt heavy. I looked around, but my sockets were sore. My head pounded. I groaned.

“Sweetheart…” My mum’s face appeared from above.

“Mum.” I instantly began crying and she reached out her arms to hold me.

“It’s OK, sweetheart, it’s OK now,” she said soothingly, while smoothing down my hair on my head.

“I’ve missed you so much.” I cried into her shoulder, ignoring the pulsing pain around the rest of my body.

Her patting stopped when I said that, the shock of my words freezing her, and then it slowly began again. I felt Dad kiss the top of my head.

“I missed you, Dad.” I continued crying.

“We’ve missed you too, love.” His voice shook as he spoke.

“I found the place,” I said excitedly, the sounds and visions around me still blurred and faraway. My own voice was muffled. “I found the place where all the missing things go.”

“Yes, sweetheart, Jack told us,” Mum said in a worried tone.

“No, I’m not mad, I didn’t imagine it. I was really there.”

“Yes.” She hushed me. “You need to rest, sweetheart.”

“The photographs are in my shirt pocket,” I said, trying to explain all the details clearly, but it felt muddled in my head. “It’s not my shirt pocket, it’s Barbara Langley from Ohio’s. I found it. I put them in my pocket.”

“The guards didn’t find anything, honey,” Dad said quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear. “There aren’t any photographs.”

“They must have fallen out,” I mumbled, getting tired of trying to explain. “Is Gregory here?” I asked.

“No, shall we call him?” my mother asked excitedly. “I wanted to call him but Harold wouldn’t let me.”

“Call him” was the last thing I remember saying.

I awoke in my childhood bedroom and stared at the same floral wallpaper I was forced to look at all throughout my teens. I had hated it then. I couldn’t wait to see the back of it, but now it gave me a strange sense of comfort. I smiled, feeling delighted to be home for the first time in my life. There was no bag by the door, no feeling of claustrophobia or fear of losing things. I had been at home now for three days, catching up on sleep and resting my injured and weary body. I had broken my leg, twisted my ankle, and had ten stitches on the crown of my head, but I was home and I was happy. I often thought of Helena, Bobby, Joseph, and Wanda, and felt a longing to be with them but knew that they would understand what had happened, and wondered if they perhaps understood the entire time.

There was a knock on the door.

“Enter,” I called.

Gregory peeked his head around, then entered with a tray of food in his hands.

I groaned. “Not more food. I think you’re all trying to fatten me up.”

“We’re trying to make you well again,” he said somberly, placing the tray on the bed. “Mrs. Butler brought you the flowers.”

“That’s so sweet of her,” I said gently. “Do you still think I’m crazy?” I asked.

I had told him about where I had been as soon as I had felt well enough to explain it properly. My parents had also obviously asked him to talk to me about it as it was issue number one on the agenda, although he was keen not to take the role of counselor. Not anymore. That was then, this is now.

He avoided the question. “I spoke to Jack Ruttle today.”

“Good. I hope you apologized.”

“I definitely apologized.”

“Good,” I repeated, “because if it wasn’t for him I would literally be lying in a ditch somewhere. My own boyfriend didn’t care enough to join the search party,” I said, in a huff.

“Honestly, Sandy, if I joined a search party every time you disappeared…” He had meant it as a joke but it changed the mood.

“Well, it won’t be happening again.”

He looked unsure.

“I promise, Gregory. I’ve found what I was looking for.” I reached out to touch his cheek.

He smiled but I was sure it would take time before he’d truly believe me. The past few days I had questioned whether I believed myself.

“What did Jack say on the phone?”

“That he went back to the place where he’d found you to look for the photographs you’ve been talking about, and he didn’t find anything.”

“Does he think I’m crazy?”

“Probably, but he still loves you because he’s convinced you and your mum helped him find his brother.”