Standing in her dated kitchen, with paint peeling off the wall, she is brought back to the notification on her phone. Yesterday, It wasn’t the nicest of days, she was rushing to get home, but the usual ping ping of the news programmes had warned of the man with the blue flower. She’d stopped, and read the bulletin, her mind forced back to all the reports of missing girls. It had been weeks of young girls going missing. The first girl had caused a media frenzy. People were out in drones searching the rivers and local wooded areas for little Millie Rogers, aged 6. The next girl had caused a ripple of panic, but by the 16th missing child people were scarily used to it, and now it was just the worried parents searching for their missing daughter, whilst the rest kept their children safe within the boundaries of their properties. Today was nicer. It was warm. The girls were in the garden. She watched them through the kitchen window. The sun was causing a shade to fall beneath the apple tree behind the fence, and her girls sat in the overgrown grass, staining their knees. With a sigh, she turned back to her dining table of junk and began the sort out she’d put off for weeks. Outside, Camilla could hear the tinny sounds of the neighbours’ radio. The presenter was saying something about something breaking, but she didn’t quite know what and she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. The sun was getting warm, and she could hear the other children being called inside. But Lucy and her could stay outside. Their mummy hadn’t called them in. Camilla couldn’t hear her radio on today, so mummy must be cleaning. She always cleaned in silence. The sun was really heating up now, and Camilla wiped her brow a few times. She took her little sister’s hand and pulled her through to the front garden which was usually more shaded. The lawn had recently been mown, and the beds were tidier. The girls often preferred the front garden to the back but lately their mum had insisted they played outback. Today, Camilla decided, being the oldest, she could keep an eye on Lucy, whilst mummy was busy. Straightening her ridden up t shirt, she passed Lucy a toy telephone. Lucy loved this toy. It was red and blue and yellow, each colour as bright as the others. The numbers were faded from years of pressing - it had been Camilla’s before it was Lucy’s. Lucy dialled a random set of numbers, giggling, and passing the toy up to her sister. Camilla took it, answered the call, causing more giggles to erupt from Lucy. The sound caused birds to flutter up into the sky and fly away. The flapping of wings clapped through the air as they disappeared into the blue skies. Looking over the fence, Camilla watched a car pass by. It was dark with black windows, and she ushered her sister over to look. The car turned the corner and Lucy pulled to wander back to her phone. Her knees were green, and there was mud beneath her finger nails. Camilla let go, and stood at the fence, one eye on Lucy the other on the corner the car had followed. A man, jogging, turned the same corner. He was sweaty, and Camilla giggled at his shoes. They were all wrong. Lucy turned at her laughter and stumbled over. Lucy placed her chubby arms up to the fence pickets and pulled her weight up. The man slowed as he got to the fence, and caught his breath. Lucy picked up her phone and dialled a number. She chuckled to herself and passed it out to the man. Camilla watched the man, watched him pause and watched him hesitate. Eventually he reached down and picked up the toy phone. “Hello?” He spoke in to the toy, and Lucy giggled. He smiled down at the child, and continued, “who is this? Can I help you?” His voice was gruff, hoarse. Camilla thought it didn’t suit his face, which was clean and shiny with sweat. He sounded like an old man. Lucy was giggling like the little girl she was, enjoying the pretence of the game. The man spoke into the phone once more, “well, I really must go,” and he passed the toy back to the little girl. Camilla reached out, like she’d seen the grown ups do, to shake the man’s hand. He shook it, holding just a little longer than she’d expected, before kneeling down on the other side of the fence. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash of blue, before pressing it into the little girl’s other hand. Camilla smiled, made up with this small gesture of kindness from her new friend. He tilted his head, standing up and holding his index finger to his lips, before taking back off on his jog. Lucy dialled another number, then held the phone out to her sister. Just before Camilla could grab the toy, she heard their mum calling them, shrieking in the back garden. Carrying the phone, Camilla tugged her sister along back to where mummy was calling, and caught the sigh of relief escape her mum’s mouth. She ushered them both into the house. Walking through the peeled paint door, Camilla noticed her mum must’ve finished cleaning as the lady on the radio was talking in their house now, like she had been in their neighbour’s. It seemed she was still telling the same story, a warning to stay indoors and keep doors locked. She repeated, over and over, that anything out of the ordinary should be reported. Camilla wondered what the ordinary was, and how she’d know what was in or out of it. She knew enough not to ask, and figured they might be in trouble for being outside when the lady said they shouldn’t be. Looking down, Camilla noticed she still had the toy in her hand. She saw the brownish mark where the man’s hands had been, and gave it a quick wipe on her leggings, before passing it back to her little sister. Lucy cradled the phone in her arms, before toddling off to the living room. Camilla leant into her mum’s leg, wrapping one arm around it. Her mother looked down, and hugged her daughter extra tight. Then her eyes caught the stains, the grass and reddish marks all down her leggings. “Come on, you, you’re a state!” She said, and took her daughter upstairs to get changed. Outside, the dark car did another circle round the block, a man inside with his finger ready to turn the siren on, should it be necessary. Inside, as she followed her mother to change her clothes, she quickly pulled the blue flower out of her pocket, and stashed it in her bookcase, to pick up again later. She wasn’t prepared to let mummy throw away the pretty flower from her new friend.