Bluebells
‘I went over this on the phone.’
‘I just want to confirm the details.’
Mark pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Olive skin. Dark brown hair. She’s… I don’t know, average build, I suppose. Just over four foot tall. She’s tall for her age.’
‘What was she wearing the last time you saw her?’
‘She was in pyjamas. Shorts and a t-shirt. They were white and blue. They had this print on them. Some sort of animal. Rabbits, maybe. Or elephants.’
‘The more specific you can be, the better.’
‘I’m trying. They were new. Her mum had bought them for her and packed them. It was the same animal over and over, like a repeating print. From a distance it would just look like polka dots, anyway.’
The police officer’s pen scratches at her notebook. Mark pushes his knuckles against his lips and stares at the floor.
‘What about her feet? Slippers?’
‘Her red trainers are gone from the back door. She must be in them.’
‘Can you describe them?’
He shakes his head and shrugs. ‘They’re red trainers.’
‘The more details the better, Mr Taylor.’
‘Okay. They’re like those Converse things, y’know? But not branded.’
