‘We’ve searched the building twice,’ Terri said. ‘The police have said once we’ve finished searching the grounds, if we haven’t found him they’ll widen the search and bring in the police helicopter. He could have got out of the school grounds, but it’s unlikely. He would’ve had to scale a six-foot-high fence, which runs all around the perimeter.’
‘What can I do?’ I asked.
‘Help search,’ Terri said. ‘We’re taking it in sections. Come with me.’
I went with her across the dark, damp playing fields as torch beams flickered in the shrubbery like ghostly will-o’-the-wisps. Without a torch visibility was only a few metres, and then all you could see were shadows. I wished I’d brought a torch, but then I hadn’t known Danny was still out here. I followed Terri to a section of the perimeter where no one else was searching and we began peering in and around the bushes, all the time calling Danny’s name. ‘Danny’ echoed in the darkness behind us as the others searching also called his name. We were concentrating on any movement, sound or irregular dark shadow that could be a young boy hiding, huddled small with fear, but there was nothing. I felt a growing dread that he had managed to leave the school grounds, for I knew from experience that when a child is very distraught they can scale heights and run distances they wouldn’t be able to normally. Terri must have been thinking the same thing, for after a few minutes she turned from where she was looking and said, ‘I think we need to bring in the police helicopter now and look outside the school.’
Yet just as we turned to head back to the school, a male voice came from the far side of the playing field: ‘Found him!’
‘Thank God,’ Terri gasped.
We hurried across the dark field in the direction of the voice. The others were doing the same – those with torches had their beams pointed a little ahead, lighting their way. As we drew close to where the voice had come from I saw that it was one of the police officers who had found Danny. His torch was tucked under his arm, and he was holding Danny against his chest. All I could see of Danny was the back of his head and coat.
‘Thank you so much,’ Terri said to the officer.
‘Well done,’ his colleague said to him.
The other searchers had arrived and we formed a small circle around the officer and Danny. ‘You’re OK now, son, aren’t you?’ the officer said gently to Danny.
Danny didn’t reply. His face was buried in the officer’s jacket and his little hands, knuckle-white, gripped his lapels for all he was worth.
‘Thank goodness we found you,’ Terri said, taking a step closer to Danny.
‘Good boy,’ another female voice added.
‘We’ll go into your school now,’ the police officer holding Danny said in a calm and reassuring voice. ‘Then, if you’re all right, you can go home.’
‘To his foster home,’ Terri corrected.
Danny didn’t speak or move.
‘So you’re going to stay with a foster carer,’ the officer said, trying to reassure him ‘That’ll be nice.’
Danny didn’t say anything and remained motionless. The officer turned and began towards the school, and the rest of us followed. As we entered through the door at the rear of the building Danny chanced to peep out and I caught sight of his little round face with pale cheeks and blue eyes wide with fear.
‘Hi, love,’ I said gently. ‘I’m Cathy, your foster carer.’
He buried his head in the officer’s jacket.
Inside the school we congregated in one of the classrooms. We could see each other properly now with the lights on. Three members of staff who’d been on the field helping in the search said that now Danny had been found they’d go home. Terri thanked them and they called goodbye as they left. Then the caretaker said he’d go and start to lock up and would we let him know when we were going.
‘Thanks, Sam,’ a young woman said. Then she introduced herself to me. ‘I’m Sue Bright, Danny’s teacher.’
‘Hello. Cathy Glass, Danny’s foster carer,’ I said with a smile.
The police officer carrying Danny sat on one of the children’s school chairs while the other officer stood by the closed classroom door – possibly to stop Danny if he tried to run off again, although that didn’t seem likely. He remained very quiet and still, with his face buried in the officer’s chest so that only his mop of blond hair was visible.
‘Danny,’ Terri said, squatting down beside him. ‘Are you OK?’
Danny didn’t respond.
‘I expect you’re hungry,’ she said. ‘Cathy, your foster carer, is going to take you home in her car soon and give you a nice hot dinner. Then, when you’ve had a sleep, she’ll bring you to school tomorrow and you’ll see your mother.’
Danny remained motionless. He didn’t acknowledge that he had heard Terri or even that she was there.
‘Danny,’ his teacher, Sue, now said, stepping forwards. ‘It’s getting very late. All the other children have gone home. We’re all going home too. You are going to Cathy’s house for tonight and then we’ll see you tomorrow in school.’ She came across as very caring and had spoken to him gently, but he didn’t respond.
‘We’ve got a meeting here tomorrow at nine o’clock,’ Terri now said to me.
I nodded, more concerned with getting Danny home than a meeting in the morning.
‘Danny, time to go home with Cathy,’ Terri said, touching his hand.
Danny snatched his hand away and tucked it beneath his coat but didn’t say anything or look up. The police officer standing by the door answered his radio and we heard a female voice at the control centre ask if he and his colleague could attend an RTA (road traffic accident). The officer replied that they could, as Danny had been found safe and well. When he’d finished he joked to us: ‘That was my mum telling me dinner was ready,’ and I smiled.
‘Danny, time to go with Cathy now,’ Terri said again. ‘I’ll phone your mother and tell her you’re safe, then she’ll come to school to see you in the morning.’
Danny still didn’t move or speak. Clearly he had to come with me, so Terri lightly lifted his arm and began easing him away from the officer. Danny didn’t resist. I stepped forward ready to take him and Terri and the officer lifted Danny into my arms. As soon as his little body touched mine he wrapped his legs tightly around my waist, grabbed my coat sleeves and buried his head in my chest. I breathed a sigh of relief now that I had him safe. It was just a matter of getting him into my car and home. Some six-year-olds are quite heavy, and being of a slight build myself I would have had difficulty carrying them, but Danny was as light as a feather – too light for a child of his age, I thought.
‘We’ll see you to your car,’ said the police officer who’d been holding Danny.
‘Thank you,’ I said.
‘Here’s his bag,’ Terri said, passing a large canvas holdall to the officer.
‘I’ll phone your mother now,’ Terri said to Danny, staying behind. ‘See you in the morning.’
‘See you tomorrow in school,’ his teacher said to us as we began towards the classroom door.
‘Yes, see you tomorrow,’ I replied.
Danny didn’t make a sound, but his legs tightened around my waist and his fingers gripped my coat. ‘It’s going to be OK,’ I reassured him. ‘There’s nothing to worry about.’
The officer standing by the classroom door held it open for me and I carried Danny out of the classroom and along the corridor. His teacher and social worker stayed behind. I would see them