“Owen sounds like a charming little boy.”

It was clear that Jake was thinking about adding something to that, but then he changed his mind.

“He said I was sitting in Neil’s chair.”

“That’s stupid. You didn’t get a place in the school because this Neil kid went missing. Someone else moved to a new house like we did.” I frowned. “And anyway, they’d have all been in a different classroom last year, wouldn’t they?”

Jake looked at me curiously.

“Twenty-eight,” he said.

“Twenty-eight what?”

“Twenty-eight children,” he said. “Plus me is twenty-nine.”

“Exactly.” I had no idea if that was true, but I went with it. “They have classes of thirty here. So wherever Neil is, his chair is waiting for him.”

“Do you think he will come home?”

We stepped into the playground.

“I don’t know, mate.”

“Can I have a hug, Daddy?”

I looked down at him. From the expression on his face now, last night and this morning might as well not have happened at all. But then, he was seven. Arguments were always resolved in his time and on his terms. In this instance, I was too tired not to accept that.

“Of course you can.”

“Because even when we argue—”

“We still love each other. Very much.”

I knelt down, and the tight embrace felt like it was powering me back up a little. That a hug like this, every so often, would keep me running. And then he ambled inside past Mrs. Shelley without giving me even a backward glance. I walked back out through the gate, hoping he didn’t get into any more trouble today.

But if he did …

Well, he did.

Just let him be him.

“Hello, there.”

I turned to find Karen slightly behind me, walking just fast enough to catch up.

“Hey,” I said. “How are you?”

“Looking forward to a few hours’ peace and quiet.” She fell into step beside me. “How did Jake do yesterday?”

“He went up to yellow,” I said.

“I have no idea what that means.”

I explained the traffic light system. The gravity and supposed seriousness of it seemed so meaningless after the events of the night that I almost laughed at the end.

“That sounds fucking abominable,” she said.

“That’s what I thought.”

I wondered if there was some nominal moment when playground parents decided to drop a certain level of pretense and swear like normal people. If there was, I was glad to have passed it.

“In some ways it’s a badge of honor, though,” she said. “He’ll be the envy of his classmates. Adam said they didn’t have much of a chance to play together.”

“Jake said Adam was nice,” I lied.

“He also said Jake talked to himself a bit.”

“Yes, he does do that sometimes. Imaginary friends.”

“Right,” Karen said. “I sympathize with him completely. Some of my best friends are imaginary. I’m joking, obviously. But Adam went through that, and I’m sure I did too when I was a kid. You probably did as well.”

I frowned. A memory suddenly came back to me.

“Mister Night,” I said.

“Sorry?”

“God, I haven’t thought about that in years.” I ran my hand through my hair. How had I forgotten about it? “Yeah, I did have an imaginary friend. When I was younger, I used to tell my mother that someone came into my room at night and hugged me. Mister Night. That’s what I called him.”

“Yeah … that’s pretty creepy. But then, kids say scary stuff all the time. There are whole websites devoted to it. You should write that down and submit it.”

“Maybe I will.” But it reminded me of something else. “Jake’s been saying other weird things recently. If you leave a door half open, soon you’ll hear the whispers spoken. Have you ever heard that?”

“Hmmm.” Karen thought about it. “It does ring a bell; I’m sure I’ve heard it somewhere before. It’s one of those rhymes kids say in the playground, I think.”

“Right. Maybe that’s where he heard it, then.”

Except not in this playground, of course, because Jake had said it the night before his first day. Maybe it was some common kid thing that I didn’t know about—something from one of those television shows I put on for him and then zoned out without paying attention to.

I sighed.

“I just hope he has a better day. I worry about him.”

“That’s natural. What does your wife say?”

“She died last year,” I said. “I’m not sure how well he’s coping with that. Understandably, I suppose.”

Karen was silent for a moment.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. I’m not sure how well I’m coping either, to be honest. I’m never sure whether I’m being a good father or not. Whether I’m doing the best I can for him.”

“That’s also natural. I’m sure you are.”

“Maybe it’s whether my best is good enough that’s the real question.”

“And again, I’m sure it is.”

She stopped and put her hands in her pockets. We’d come to a junction, and it was obvious from our mutual body language that she was heading on straight here while I was turning right.

“But whatever,” she said, “it sounds like both of you have had a rough time of it. So I think—not that you asked for my opinion, I realize, but fuck it—that maybe you should stop being so hard on yourself?”

“Maybe.”

“Just a little, at least?”

“Maybe.”

“Easier said than done, I know.” She gathered herself together, her whole body suddenly like a sigh. “Anyway. Catch you later on. Have a good one.”

“You too.”

I thought about that the rest of the way home. Maybe you should stop being so hard on yourself. There was probably some truth in that, because, after all, I was just fumbling through life the same as everyone else, wasn’t I? Trying to do my best. But back home, I still paced around the downstairs of the house, unsure what to do with myself. Earlier on, I’d been thinking it would be good to have some time without Jake. Now, with the house empty and silent around me, I felt an urge to have him as close as possible.

Because I needed to keep him safe.

And I hadn’t imagined what had happened last night.

That brought on a flash of panic. If the police weren’t going to help us, that meant that I had to. Walking through the empty rooms, I felt a sense of desperation—an urgent need to do something, even though I had no idea what. I ended up in my office. The laptop had been left on standby overnight. I nudged the trackpad and the screen came to life, revealing the words there.

Rebecca …

She would know what to do right now; she always had. I pictured her sitting cross-legged on the floor with Jake, playing enthusiastically with whatever toys were between them. And curled up on our old couch, reading to him, his head underneath her chin and their two bodies so close that they looked like a single person. Whenever he’d called out in the night, Rebecca would have already been padding through to him as I was still waking up. And it had always been her he called for.