The Lost

‘They argue all the time,’ his sister agreed, suddenly on his side. ‘Dad always loses.’

‘Well, that’s...’ Rosa tried to think of a convincing counter- argument, then abandoned the attempt. ‘That’s because they’re grown-ups.’

The two children looked at each other, as though communing on some level that excluded anyone else.

‘But why is it OK for them and not us?’

‘Because they’re your parents, OK? Do you want me to tell them you’ve been quarrelling again?’

They both considered, then gave near-identical grins. ‘No.’

They’d inherited their looks from their mother, Rosa thought. But, lucky for them, not their natures. She felt a smile tug at her mouth.

‘Well, it’s time to go home anyway.’

There were moans but not heartfelt. The twins only dragged their feet a little as they gathered their things. Carrying her phone, Rosa ushered them towards the park gates. There were more joggers and cyclists on the paths than park users, so Rosa automatically walked on the outside of the twins. The volume of their argument made them hard to miss, but she didn’t want to have to explain grazes or broken bones either, thank you.

The park was within easy walking distance of the house. When she’d started working there, Rosa had hoped that she’d be allowed to borrow the mother’s Range Rover for outings. She’d tried hinting, telling the parents she had a clean licence and liked to drive. But the father seemed not to hear and the mother had looked at her and said, ‘Better save up for a car, then.’

So, they walked.

They took the usual route home, on the quieter streets away from the main road. Her phone vibrated in her hand, alerting her to a notification. She had it permanently on silent, because it was better to miss a call than be lectured on socialising when she should be watching the twins. She glanced at them now, but they’d resumed their squabble and were too engrossed to care what she did. She swiped her phone screen, and a second later was smiling at an Instagram post.

She didn’t notice the white van ahead of them.

It was parked under the low-hanging branches of a horse chestnut. As Rosa passed into its shade, the rear door of the van opened. Still preoccupied with her phone, she heard the squeal of its hinges as she drew level. Sight and air were suddenly cut off, choking her scream before it started. She felt herself lifted and spun, and then the cold metal floor of the van slammed into her. Stunned, she tried to wrestle whatever it was that covered her face, and then the air was knocked out of her again as something small and solid hit her. She could hear the twins wailing as they floundered on top of her, and there was a slam as the van doors were shut. Half suffocated, she was still trying to free herself from the sack or whatever was over her head when the engine growled to life. The next moment she was flung to one side as the van pulled out, tasting blood in her mouth as a small head caromed into hers. The twins were screaming and crying, and she was too, but then a gruff voice came from in front and above them.