Chapter 3

1st October 2015: 9:10 am.

“Can you just let me in the station?” I asked as the crowd started to die down. It was no longer about getting through hundreds of people which earlier had felt like trying to get through an elephant stampede. A few watched me as I dropped my phone and picked it up again slowly, because I had lost all sense of co-ordination. The noises were ringing in my ear as if they were building up into a headache. The train announcements, the sounds of people going in and out of the station, the little girl crying; all the noises felt as if they were a sirens ringing in my ear. My heart no longer felt like mine as I was no longer talking to the attendant. I was now faced with the police that she had called after she’d spoken to the little girl.

A man named Bob, who was in what looked like a police uniform, was talking to me. Explaining the situation. Trying to get me to calm down.

“Now, if we can just start from the beginning...”

I took a deep breath, thinking that if this was going to get through to them, if it would make them understand, then I could start wherever they wanted, at least if I left this station with my little girl in my sight. In my arms.

I started to cry. Not uncontrollable tears, but the type that made me think that nothing was making sense anymore.

Nothing.

“My car broke down. I’ve never been on the bus, let alone the Tube.”

“But you live in London?”

What did that have to do with anything?

“Yes.”

“Okay and then what next?”

He stood as the police man came nearer and that was when I realized that it wasn’t even an officer. My hopes and aspirations of getting my daughter were diminishing by the minute. It was a Community Officer. One that couldn’t help me. He had no power of the law. He had a uniform to walk around and act superior, but without the authority to carry out the law.

My patience ran thin at the reality of the situation as I looked at the clock that chimed above, “It’s ten,” I whispered to myself, not to Bob. And I still didn’t know in between the commute and everything else when exactly I’d lost my Barbara.

“So, where did you get on the Tube, miss?” the attendant asked, but I ignored him as I continued speaking to Bob.

“I got on at Victoria.”

“With your daughter?” he pointed to the brown-haired girl whose hand I’d been holding earlier. The blonde attendant was holding the little girl’s hand as she continued to comfort her and act as if she was her mom. I felt sorry for the little girl. I did hope that they found her mom soon. Around the same time that I found Barbara, and then this nightmare of a journey would be put to rest.

“She’s not my daughter!” I felt like a broken record repeating the same thing over and over again.

The blonde attendant interjected and said, “This isn’t her daughter. But then she came through here with her.”

I didn’t understand why she kept saying that.

“But you don’t know if it’s her. I could have come through with my daughter. She has the same uniform, hat and everything as Barbara.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s her, miss. She smiled and waved as she went through.”

She saw her face!

“That means between Victoria and here, you lost your daughter,” Bob nodded for confirmation. I couldn’t speak. The idea that I’d come through the gates with this little girl made me feel sick. All that time I hadn’t realized that I didn’t have Barbara.

“Miss?”

“What’s your name?” Bob asked someone, I heard him speaking, but I just kept thinking at what point? At what time? Did I lose my little girl?

“Emma Rogers,” said the blonde attendant.

I wanted to ask how she knew, maybe I had said my name at some point. Everything was vague and that was when everything came to a head. Someone held my hand and said, “Emma, let’s get you to the station and see if we can find your daughter.”

I looked up and saw someone else, this time a police officer in a recognizable uniform. She had a nice smile, the type that could reassure someone who was in a crisis. Someone who was hysterical and couldn’t think straight. That person was me. I couldn’t think straight but I was so far from hysterical; I felt as if I was losing my mind.

I nodded like a little child as I held on to my breath and thought about what I needed to do to get my little girl back. I needed their help, whether I liked it or not. My daughter was out there with someone who wasn’t me and, as they talked about us heading to the station, I just wanted Barbara back safely in my arms.