Free Out of Time by John Marsden Page B

arguments during the car trip?’
    â€˜No. He was keen to get his homework done before we got home, so he could watch television. That seemed to be his major concern.’
    â€˜When’s the last argument you had with him?’
    â€˜Oh. . . I suppose. . . on Monday. I wouldn’t let him go to his friend’s place, because he’d been there half the weekend anyway. I said it was Jem’s turn to come here. It wasn’t a major argument – he could see the sense of it. He’s a sensible kid.’
    â€˜Was he in any trouble at school?’
    â€˜No, he’s quite a leader there, it seems. The teachers like him.’
    â€˜Would he have left the car with a stranger voluntarily?’
    â€˜Heavens, no.’
    â€˜Did you see anyone you knew during the afternoon’s driving?’
    â€˜No, not really. I mean just the usual parents and kids outside the school. And there were a few staff and patients at the rest home whom I’ve gotten to know over the months I’ve been going there.’
    â€˜Do you have any enemies?’
    â€˜Oh not like that, no.’
    â€˜Anybody who might wish you harm?’
    â€˜No, no.’
    â€˜Is he a healthy boy?’
    â€˜Oh yes.’
    â€˜No bumps on the head lately? No concussions or similar?’
    â€˜Not that we’ve heard, or know about.’
    Doug and Cathy Mottram continued searching for their son when after ten days it became clear that the police had no leads and no idea of what might have happened. They did streetwalks, and doorknocks, and distributed photographs and posters. Gradually their search widened, across the state, across the country. They became increasingly desperate. They agreed that Doug would take leave from his practice, indefinitely, but Cathy would keep working. It was the only way they could get the money to finance the enormous expenses they were incurring. They hired a private detective. Doug travelled ceaselessly, investigating reported sightings that came in at regular intervals. Andrew had been seen in a MacDonald’s in Williamstown. He’d been spotted hitchhiking on the Lawrance Highway. He was with a man in Semmler. He’d been killed in a road accident in Laing. He was in a youth refuge on the East Side. As far as Doug could ascertain, none of the reports were true. Under the strain of Andrew’s disappearance the marriage began to break up. Both Doug and Cathy began drinking too much. They seemed unable to talk to each other about their fears, their grief. They steadily drifted apart. Eventually Doug moved into a small apartment about five kilometres from what had been the family home. About six months after the separation he attemptedsuicide, by taking an overdose of sleeping tablets. He was found by his brother, and taken to hospital in good time.
    About a year after that Doug was in a small town called St Antony, on the north coast. He was staying with new friends. Jane was an airline hostess. Doug met her on one of his many flights in search of Andrew. On a near-empty plane they had talked. She had taken a sympathetic interest in the father’s quest for his son. He had met her again a number of times, and then met her husband, Raffael, a photographer. Now he was staying with them for ä weekend, at their beach house.
    On the Saturday evening the three of them were fishing off the beach and made a series of big strikes. Doug, in particular, caught the biggest fish of his life: a beautiful full-bodied bream. Raffael went up to the house to get a camera, then photographed Doug as he proudly held the fish aloft in the dusk.
    A week later the photos from Raffael came in Doug’s mail. He opened them and looked through them with pleasure: the warm rising of good times remembered. The third and fourth photos were of the fish. There was not much difference between them which was not surprising, as they were taken only a few moments apart. But there was one