Nowhere Child by Rachel Abbott Read Free Book Online Page A

him. Both men were tall, but Tom had broad shoulders whereas Jack was leaner, more intense, and until the last time she saw him Jack had always had long, almost black, bushy hair that he tied back in a ponytail when he was forced to look smart. Tom had dark-blond hair that he kept short and a bit spiky. They were chalk and cheese, but she had sometimes wished Jack had a bit more of Tom’s solidity.
    He stepped into the hall and gave her a hug.
    ‘It’s good to see you, and don’t ever feel guilty about calling me. I want to help. I know I don’t always say what you want to hear, and that makes it difficult for me sometimes. But I won’t lie to you.’
    ‘I know. Look, come through to the kitchen, have a glass of wine, and I’ll tell you what’s happened today.’
    ‘Okay, but first – where’s my godson? Is he in bed?’
    ‘Sorry, he is. I had to put him down, because if he’d stayed up it would have taken me forever to get him to sleep. He’d have been so excited. You can pop up and see him, if you like.’
    Tom grinned at her and took the stairs two at a time. Ollie asleep was a perfect picture. On his back, arms above his head, blankets kicked off and legs splayed, he looked like a starfish – and one with the cutest face.
    Emma made her way into the kitchen, poured two glasses of red wine and leaned against the units, trying to decide what to say to Tom – what to tell him, and in what order. She had been going round and round the options, but in the end there was only one thing for it.
    ‘Tasha called me.’ The words burst out of her before Tom was even through the kitchen door.
    He stopped dead, as if he hadn’t heard her right. ‘You’re joking?’
    Emma nodded and took a gulp of her wine.
    ‘She wanted to know if I was offering a reward for her.’
    ‘What? You’re not, are you? Please tell me you haven’t offered half the homeless of Manchester money for turning her in.’
    ‘No, of course I haven’t.’ She pointed to the glass of wine sitting on the central unit. ‘I’m not completely insane. That would cause a riot. But it seems somebody is offering money to find her, and I’m fairly sure it’s not you.’
    ‘No, it’s not, although we could really do with finding her.’
    Tom picked up his wine, and Emma could tell from his face that he was weighing his words.
    ‘Spit it out, Tom. What are you thinking?’
    ‘If it’s not you, and it’s not me, there’s only one other person who has anything to gain by finding Tasha.’
    The name McGuinness hung in the air between them, unspoken.
    ‘Why now, though? He’s had months to look for her, and it’s the first we’ve heard about this reward.’
    Tom looked uncomfortable.
    ‘I told you weeks ago that McGuinness was ill and that’s why his court case had been delayed, but I didn’t tell you how ill because I know you want him to suffer for everything he’s done. I guessed you would think dying in his sleep would have been too good for him.’
    ‘Absolutely. He deserves to rot in prison for a long time.’
    Tom nodded, as if that was what he had expected from her. ‘A few days after he was charged, McGuinness was beaten up. We don’t know who by – nobody’s saying. He was being held on remand in Manchester Prison – Strangeways, as it used to be – and somebody got to him, probably from a rival gang. He was thumped with some force in his stomach and ended up with peritonitis.’
    Tom took a sip of his wine. ‘He went on to suffer septic shock and he was in intensive care for weeks. He wasn’t fit for visitors for a long time, so he wouldn’t have had a chance to put the word out. We didn’t think he was going to survive, to tell you the truth, but I didn’t want you to know. He’s recovered – and I guess he knows he’s going down. But with Tasha’s evidence, his sentence will be considerably worse. It's only recently that he’s been in a position to focus on finding her, and silencing her.’
    Emma felt the