MISSING 

By Tessa Harvey

For days, it had been squally, intermittent rain, hail and snow and fierce buffeting winds, confining the school children to classrooms or common rooms. Finally, on the Saturday the skies had cleared and the wind was more manageable, more a subdued roar than a howling tempest.

    The children had tumbled out of the new estate houses like rambunctious puppies sniffing the air and smiling with glee. They all wore galoshes and raincoats and all the mothers were glad to see them go.

    They turned their attention to younger children, to shopping and meals, to wresting some sort of order out of muddled chaos. Some had other jobs they needed to attend to, such as serving in stores, factories, schools.

    Mary had the smaller children to feed and keep occupied. The others had gone to collect bonfire wood.

    Fireworks for Bonfire Night had been carefully chosen and hidden - rockets, poppers, golden rains, and Mount Vesuvius with its smooth conical shape and purple touch paper.

    The bonfire had been added to for weeks already. It had to be able to burn right through the night and still be able to glow in the morning. That had been the aim for the last few years. Such immense satisfaction in the town to see the embers still glowing bright red.

    The youngest, Jason, was howling, so Mary hurried with his feed. Tidying could wait.