SHE IS GONE
I’ve called her and messaged her but I have no idea where she is, is she back at yours???
I’m so worried and confused and the play’s today and I’m just freaking out a little bit, I think I might have upset her and ruined everything
But also I think I need to get a couple of hours of sleep now because otherwise I may pass out on stage this afternoon
So um
Yeah
Message me when you wake up
Georgia Warr
i’m awake
oh my god
Georgia Warr
she’s not here
don’t panic
i will find her
I called her first and sat there in our bed, listening to the phone ringing, waiting.
It went through to voicemail.
‘Where are you?’ I said instantly, but didn’t know what else to say, so I just hung up, hurled myself out of bed, put on the nearest clothes I could grab, and ran.
This could not be happening.
She was not abandoning us on the day of the show.
She was not abandoning me.
I ran all the way to the bottom of the stairway before realising that I had literally no idea where to look. She could be anywhere. A library. A café. Somewhere in college. Someone’s flat. Durham is small, but it wasn’t possible to search a whole city in one day.
But I had to try.
I ran all the way to the theatre first. She’d probably just decided to meet us there, maybe gone to get a Starbucks first. We’d all agreed to meet there at 10 a.m. – our performance was at 2 p.m. – and it was 9.30 now, so she was probably just a bit early.
I crashed into the door in my attempt to open it. It was locked.
That was when I started to get scared.
She’d left Pip in the middle of the night. Where had she gone after that? I would have woken up if she’d come back to our room. Had she gone to see one of her many friends who didn’t seem to care about her? Had she gone to a club? The clubs didn’t stay open that late, did they?
I crouched down on the pavement, trying to breathe. Shit. What if something bad had happened? What if some man had pulled up in a car and grabbed her? What if she’d been walking along the bridge and fallen in?
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Rooney again.
She didn’t pick up. Maybe she didn’t even have her phone with her.
I called Pip instead.
‘Did you find her?’ was the first thing she said when she picked up.
‘No. She’s …’ I didn’t even know what to tell her. ‘She’s … gone.’
‘Gone? What – what do you mean gone?’
I stood up, looking around as if I might suddenly see her up the street, running towards me in her sports leggings, her ponytail flying behind her. But I didn’t. Of course I didn’t.
My voice broke. ‘She’s just gone.’
‘This is my fault,’ said Pip instantly, and I could hear how devastated she was, and how much she truly believed what she was saying. ‘This is – I shouldn’t have – she probably didn’t even – it was way too soon for us to even –’
‘No, it’s my fault,’ I said. I should have been looking out for her. I should have seen this coming.
I knew her better than anyone.
Anyone in her whole life.
‘I’ll find her,’ I said. ‘I promise I’ll find her.’
I owed her that.
I ran to the club that we went to in Freshers’ Week, when she’d told me to search for someone I fancied while she went off to get with a guy. Years ago, that felt like.
It was closed. Of course it was; it was a Saturday morning.
I went to Tesco, like I might just see her browsing cereal options, and I walked around the square like she might just be sitting on a stone bench, scrolling on her phone. I crossed Elvet Bridge and stormed into the Elvet Riverside lecture hall building, not even sure if they opened it at the weekend but not caring, having no idea why she would be here on a Saturday morning but hoping, hoping. Praying. I went up to the Student Union to find it locked, and then I couldn’t run any more because my chest hurt, so I walked to the Bill Bryson Library, went inside, stood on the stairs and just shouted ‘ROONEY!’ once. Everybody turned round to look at me, but I didn’t care.
Rooney wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere.
Were we not enough for her in the end?
Was I not enough?
Or had we just got through to her, only for something terrible to happen to her?
I called her again. And it went to voicemail.
‘Did something happen?’ I asked.