MISSING 

By Tessa Harvey

They dumped the firewood haphazardly at the back of the house and trooped in silently , shedding gumboots and raincoats fairly tidily as they had been taught, then they turned to their mother. "Whatever's wrong?" she queried, seeing their pale, shocked faces. Sandy was very close to tears. She put an arm around him. "What is it?" she asked, more softly, the shock of sharpness leaving her voice.

    "Us needs the police," whispered Robert, and burst into tears. Their mother listened, horrified. Finally the children's explanation stumbled to a halt.

    Lisa looked the worst. Only later did her parents realise she alone had seen a face, a bruised and white face glimpsed, fleetingly, but enough to haunt her for a long time.

    The two older ones had said goodbye to granny, but hadn't seen her die.

    She sat the children at the table with a drink and some scones and then called her husband at work. His shift was nearly over anyway. Then she told the police - and then they waited.

    Jack thought randomly at least we had got the firewood, then felt bad. After all, someone had died - but it wasn't our fault, he reasoned.

    Roger was given his tea, which he devoured as rapidly as ever, licking the bowl, looking up hopefully for more as he always did. Then he sighed, resigned, and settled on his own rug before the fire while the two little ones patted him awkwardly.

    Later, when the phone shrilled, dad answered. When he explained the police did not need to talk to them, they were all relieved and trooped to bed without too much of the usual fuss.

    Steve told Mary they had recovered a woman's body, but they let the children sleep in peace. There was nothing to say or do. Hopefully, in time, they would all forget. But, for the missing woman's husband, the outcome was anything but peaceful.