"Any sign of 'er, any of yer?"
"Nothin'," several police officers broadcast as Gene let the radio drop onto his lap, taking a sharp right turn towards his house, eyes roving the pavements for any sign of his sort-of daughter. Every small sound made him jump, every movement caught his eye; he knew he was pale, sweating and shaky, and felt glad that the CID boys couldn't see him like this. If they knew how much he cared about Molly... for a second he felt almost rebellious- why shouldn't they?- but it was quickly quashed by his worry. He had to find her.
What the hell had he been thinking, leaving her with someone else? He had been irresponsible, negligent, an idiot, and this was all his fault. He would have to explain everything to Alex... oh Jesus, she was going to absolutely hate him. He'd lose her forever.
He'd lose everything he held precious.
He might as well die.
Gene pressed a little harder on the accelerator, his eyes swerving from side to side, pressing his hand against the steering wheel and feeling himself tremble.
She had to be here somewhere...
Molly sat down hard on a short brick fence at the end of someone's garden, feeling tears prickling her eyes. One moment she'd been popping to the shops for a girly mag and some chocolate to share between herself and Mandy, and the next she was hopelessly lost and wandering from street to street, feeling herself losing her bearings a little bit more each time she took a step.
A red car drove past, and she thought wistfully of Gene; it would be heaven if he could drive past her now, stop a little way away, pick her up like a little girl and carry her to the Quattro, slide her into the front passenger seat and take her back to her house. But Gene probably had no idea where she was. And nor did she.
She forced herself to stand up again, threads from her distressed jeans snagging on the brick. Maybe she could ask someone directions?
Gathering her courage, she turned to walk up to the house whose fence she had just sat on, reaching out tentatively to knock on the door, shrinking back as she heard a dog barking and an angry voice swearing at it. She considered bolting for the road again, but fear held her to the spot; fear of not being found, fear of whatever lay behind that door, fear of her whole situation.
A dog's jaws snapped at her suddenly, and she shrieked, jumping back, shielding herself with her arms as a woman reached out to pull it back hard, seeing Molly's fright, reining the dog in like a lion tamer.
"Can I 'elp?"
A harsh, brittle London accent snarled out of the woman's mouth as she glared at the pretty young girl in front of her, all terror and no bottle. The dog barked again and Molly squealed, backing off.
"Look, just put out an 'and an' pet 'im. 'E don't bite."
Molly severely doubted that, but she carefully extended a hand, watching with astonishment as the German Shepherd turned from a growling beast to a puppy in the blink of an eye. He licked her hand, wriggling his back end as his tail whipped his owner's legs, blinking luxuriously as Molly gave him a quick rub on the head.
"Did ya just come to rub my dog, or is there somethin' else?"
Molly looked back up at the woman, seeing eyes similar to the eyes she'd first seen on Gene: guarded, trying hard not to let anyone in to the hurt festering beneath. Deciding to just be smiley and see where that got her, she straightened up, leaving the dog with one hand to nuzzle and talking straight to its irate owner.
"I'm really sorry to bother you. I'm lost and I need to find my way back home. I live in Westerchurch Road, can you tell me how to get back there?"
"New to the area, eh?" The woman gave Molly another hard look, but quickly softened. Molly grinned as the instructions were yapped out at her, recognising the demeanour fondly. Gene, a la 1981.
"Thank you so much," she beamed as the woman closed the door on her abruptly, dragging the dog back in with her, leaving her with a slobbery hand and directions home that she doubted she would remember but would probably help. Setting off on the journey described, she picked up her pace, hoping that Mandy wasn't worrying too much, and especially that she hadn't called Gene.
A flash of red in her peripheral vision drew her up short; she expected it to be another thing, something completely irrelevant, but when she turned and looked it took the shape of a very familiar Audi Quattro.
Molly turned and screamed towards the road, running towards the car as it slewed to a stop in the middle of the road and the door opened.
"GENE!"
Gene was out of the car as fast as was humanly possible with the years of beer gut accumulation to deal with, running towards Molly, completely free of shame as he threw his arms round her and hugged her fiercely, disregarding his reputation as the Manc Lion and beginning to sob into her shoulder, tears of agony and relief mixing as Molly held him as closely as she could, burying her face in his hair.
"Molls... Molly..."
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," Molly gasped, patting him on the back, holding him close again, a few stray tears sneaking out of her own eyes as he put her down, drying his face forcefully, the Guv returning.
"Oh Molls, d'yer know what I've been goin' through? I thought yer were gone... 'ow the 'ell am I supposed ter stay sane without yer an' yer mum?"
"Why Mum as well?"
"Oh, never mind... just get in the Quattro. An' yer can apologise ter Mandy as well, an' the rest o' my department, all of 'oom are lookin' fer yer."
Molly turned and stared at him, a tiny smile on her face as she nodded, salt tears leaking from her eyes as Gene belted her in and radioed through to his colleagues to let them know that Molly was safe, trying not to let them hear his constricted voice. She turned and looked through the rear windscreen at the little house with the dog, giving it a little wave as the Quattro sped off, leaving the bungalow behind.
From the front window, a woman watched on, smiling as the scene of the man running to hold her replayed in her head and her dog barked behind her. Although she knew the little girl wouldn't see it, she waved back.