Free Sugar & Spice by Saffina Desforges

playground
Had she ever arrived she probably would have been.
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    The white van pulled up at the end of the alley as she skipped, the
uncoordinated movements of a young child with a rope too long for her height. As
the pup turned the corner Laura heard the slamming of the van door and the pup
barked furiously. Then a yelp, and silence.
Laura stopped in her tracks, confused. Then she was running, her skipping rope
trailing behind her, calling out to Patch, her voice rising as she hurried. She
turned the corner and stopped abruptly, tears swimming in wide brown eyes.
Before her the man held out the limp body of the puppy. Blood ran from its
lifeless nose. She never saw the blood-stained wheel brace at his feet.
She propelled her shaking body towards the pup, held out before her, a
sacrificial offering. The man uttered soothing words of comfort but they went
unheard. She struggled for breath, a stifled sobbing the only sound she could
manage. Her hand reached out and touched the warm, soft body of the puppy. Blood
stained her fingers but she didn’t notice.
The man bent down, holding out the animal for her to take. She clutched the dead
puppy to her chest, crying, oblivious to the blood staining her frock. Oblivious
to the gentle hands around her waist, lifting her up. Oblivious to the soft,
cushioned floor she was being placed on.
Only when the door closed behind her and the pitch black of total darkness came
upon her did she realise what was happening. Her screams went unheard outside
the sound-proofed vehicle, the soft padding absorbing her cries along with the
sound of tiny hands thumping against the cushioned walls.
She felt the vehicle lurch forward and knew they were moving, though the engine
sound was as inaudible to her inside as her screams were from outside. But she
screamed all the same.
The van eased casually into the traffic on the A548, westbound, through Shotton,
Connah’s Quay and Flint, following the road parallel to the Dee estuary towards
Rhyl, just another white van going about its business.
Her parents reacted quickly, the police efficiently. With a six year old few
chances were taken, especially now. She was recorded missing within thirty
minutes of her abduction and a full police team swung into action.
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    The hysterical screams lasted perhaps fifteen minutes before exhaustion consumed
Laura’s body and she fell to the floor, alone and afraid.
She found the pup’s body and clutched it to her chest, taking comfort from the
still warm cadaver.
Eventually she cried herself to sleep in the darkness, lulled by the gentle
motion of the vehicle.
The van stopped only twice on the journey, once to change the licence plates on
a secluded road, once for fuel, paying cash. Now it was parked in the pay and
display car park on Rhyl promenade, the driver in the Sun Centre, an imposing
glass-fronted leisure complex combining pool and theatre, over-looking the Irish
Sea. To the east, the Dee Estuary poured forth its effluent, while on its
Queensferry banks anxious neighbours joined the police scouring the area for
signs of the missing child.
Being the last weekend of the school holiday the leisure pool was well-attended,
locals and late holidaymakers alike determined to make the most of it.
Though a competent swimmer he never ventured into the water once during the
three hours he spent there. He stripped to his trunks, spread out a towel and
lay out on the window seat to enjoy the view, watching the little girls run past
from the lagoon pool to the surfing pool, wet costumes clinging to young bodies.
It was an enjoyable afternoon spent building up an appetite for delights yet to
come.
It was nearly six in the evening, a good few hours of daylight remaining, when
he returned to the van. He retrieved a lunch-box from beneath his seat and
satisfied his hunger on a selection of cheese and pickle rye-bread sanches,
washed down with a flask of decaffeinated coffee.
He unrolled a copy of the Telegraph, casually browsing