Read Missing in Tokyo for Free Online

‘When?’. Trouble was, even though, since he was suspended, he had the time to do it, he didn’t have the kind of cash that would allow him to waltz into a travel agent and buy himself a ticket to Tokyo. And his credit rating would not let him hit the plastic and worry about it later. ‘What have I got in my pocket?’ he heard the voice say, ‘Not a lot …’
    He wondered if this was how it was for schizophrenics all the time, constant two-way conversations in their head,back-and-forth arguments with their other selves. What was he supposed to do? Say to his dad that, as he wasn’t getting off his arse to do anything, could he buy him a ticket so
he
could go and look for Charlie? Adam didn’t think that was ever going to come true. In another, parallel universe maybe, but not on this timeline.
    So how was it ever going to happen – was he going to have to rob a bank? Secretly borrow the money from the rich uncle he didn’t have? Buy a lottery ticket or two and hope his number came up? There had to be a way, but Adam realised he was very hungry and needed to eat before he could think straight about anything, let alone the fantasy of how he’d get to Japan.
    Adam sat back from the kitchen table and pushed his plate away from him. ‘Fantastic fry-up, Mum. Just what I needed.’
    â€˜My pleasure.’ His mum smiled, looking happier than he’d seen her in days. ‘Remember to rinse your plate before you put it in the dishwasher, won’t you.’
    â€˜You don’t have to remind me
every
time.’
    â€˜And I don’t tell you
every
time, just most of the time … and would you mind going through that pile of post over there?’ His mother nodded at a small heap of letters stacked up on the work surface. ‘I think it’s mostly junk mail, but you never know, and it’s recycling tomorrow.’
    â€˜OK.’ Adam cleared up his dirty plate and cutlery and picked up the letters, flicking through them. His mum was right, mostly junk and at least four companies trying to get him to switch to their credit card. He started tearing up the envelopes, unopened. ‘Don’t you think it’s bloody stupid the way –’ He stopped, mid-sentence.
    â€˜The way what?’
    â€˜Oh, nothing …’ Adam had remembered, as he was ripping stuff up, that he sort of knew where his dad kept the spare credit cards various companies sent him – an extra Visa, you know, just in case he got bored with using Mastercard – and he felt guilty just thinking what that meant. It meant, if he could get his hands on one of them, that he’d be able to buy a ticket to Tokyo …
    He spent the rest of the afternoon taking the thought through to various conclusions, all of which lived or died on the basis that his dad hadn’t decided to do the sensible thing and cut the cards up and thrown them away. Which he could well have done. But if he hadn’t, Adam couldn’t see
that
many reasons why he shouldn’t get away with it, at least until the bill came through a few weeks later. By which time he could’ve found Charlie and then everything would look very different.
    Pacing up and down in his room made him feel like a trapped animal, so he took the idea out for a walk to see if he could get any further with it, spot any really gaping holes in the plan, work out whether it was actually possible or just an empty, ridiculous hope.
    After walking for what seemed like ages, Adam found himself coming along the covered pathway that would lead him out of the park on to the high street. Lost in thought and operating on auto-pilot, he’d done the exact opposite of what he’d intended to do, which was not to go anywhere near the places people hung out during the weekend. And up ahead was the reason why. Two of Steve Apperly’s friends, with some other guys, coming his way and looking like trouble.
    With no Deputy