by Fay Brown
The beginning of a short story where where a mother finds her child has gone missing.
|A Third Person Sunday – |
When Tintti goes missing
Maggie was pulled to the surface of the same nagging dream by the pressure of a full bladder and the sound of footsteps pacing hurriedly up and down the hall. In her dream she was at the train station in front of an ancient and chugging steam train, trying to decide whether or not to board. It seemed there were no compelling reasons to either board the train or to remain where she stood. She felt the tension of push and pull, and while hovering between that dream world and full consciousness, wondered if that was the reason that she now felt anxious. She nestled in to the warm spot in her pillow trying to get back to her dream to see what she would do next, but even in a half conscious state she could tell that Eddie was worried about something. He had tried her door without success and was now scratching insistently at Tinti’s door. She saw this with her dreamer’s eye, which, being familiar with every corner of the house, watched benignly, while she slept. What did he want now? Why didn’t Tintti let him out for heavens sake? She lay motionless, trying to affect the appearance of one who is deep in sleep hoping her bed mate of the last ten years would get up and let the dog out. He merely stirred and sunk further under the duvet.
Eddie’s continued whining and scratching reawakened the resentment she felt towards Tintti. The way she had campaigned to change her father’s mind about getting a puppy was impressive in one so young. She had searched the net, written e-mails, made phone calls and even made arrangements for them to visit local breeders. All the research confirmed that Jack Russell Terriers were a demanding breed. They require a lot of exercise and attention. When two perfect puppies became available her daughter had successfully argued that the two would keep each other company. She envisioned the child smiling happily while playing fetch, and coming home breathless and flushed from running along the lake-shore with her new puppies. She believed that new four legged friends would help the child put the unfortunate events of the previous winter behind her once and for all. That was three years ago when she was a child. But driving back from the police station in stony silence last night she had cursed herself bitterly for being so naive. It was late when they arrived back at the house and she had gone to bed without exchanging a single word with Tintti or any of the houses other occupants.
‘Oh for heavens sake’ she muttered testily whipping the duvet off herself so that it landed on her oblivious partner and strode across the room grabbing her shirt from the floor and pulling it over her head in the time it took to reach the door. Eddie shifted impatiently on his paws and looked up at her with his ‘come on then’ expression. The dog had a way of ordering people about which added to Maggie’s resentment towards her daughter for not teaching the damn thing to mind its master. She lumbered down the hallway, making a mental note to add that to the growing list of misdemeanors, she wrenched the door handle and strode into Tinti’s room to find it empty with no sign that the bed had been slept in.