by Lisa Stone
‘Sort of. But if you do find something, do you think the doctors will be able to treat it and stop it from happening again?’
‘I think we’re in with a chance. It will depend on how far the research has progressed. And even if there’s nothing that can be done, at least we’ll know for certain and can look at alternatives like adoption or fostering.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Emma agreed.
But as Ian began to show her the research he’d started on his family tree, she felt a surge of fear. There was something in her family, a secret that she’d never shared with Ian. Whether it could have any bearing on what he was trying to uncover, she wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t say anything to him until she’d spoken to her mother first.
EIGHT
Jan wondered if she should switch off the motion-sensor light because Chris had said in his text message Camile might have switched it off for a reason. Perhaps the wiring was unsafe, in which case it could catch fire. But if it was dangerous, surely Camile would have included a warning in her notes: Don’t use the light on the patio. It’s not working properly. Or something similar. There was no smell of burning coming from the switch box in the small bedroom. Jan had checked, and the light outside seemed to be OK too.
It had crossed Jan’s mind to text Chris back and apologize, but she’d decided against it – least said, soonest mended. Instead, she did what she should have done in the first place and messaged Camile: I’ve switched on the sensor light on the patio. Hope that’s OK?
It took Camile nearly half an hour to reply: It gobbles electricity so best keep it off.
So that was the reason it was off. It made sense. She would switch it off again once it had served its purpose and illuminated whatever it was that was coming into the garden.
Jan had topped up the meter and was now waiting for eight o’clock – the time when whatever it was had visited the last four nights. Animals were creatures of habit, she’d read online. Once she knew what it was and that it wouldn’t harm her or Tinder, she could relax. Tinder was feisty but small and wouldn’t be able to protect himself if attacked.
It was pitch dark outside now. Jan had finished dinner, washed up and was now sitting on the sofa, the television remote and her phone within reach. Although she was miles away from her family and friends, they were keeping in contact by phone and text. Some of her friends said they were envious of what she was doing – taking time out. An ‘enforced sabbatical’, one had called it. Put like that, it sounded as though she’d made an informed decision, had had a choice, rather than being made redundant and then dumped by her boyfriend.
When Jan had spoken to her mother on the phone earlier she’d delicately asked if she’d had any thoughts about her future. Jan had mumbled something about a possible career change, maybe retraining as a teacher or social worker, but she was looking into it. It was enough to satisfy her mother, although Jan was pretty sure she didn’t have what it took to be a teacher or social worker. She wasn’t sure where her skills lay or what she wanted to do in the future.
Tinder jumped onto her lap and then spent some moments turning in a circle until he was comfortable. Jan absently stroked his head while looking at the gap in the curtains. As soon as the motion-sensor light flashed on she’d pull open the curtains and hopefully get a good look at what was there. It was 7.30 now. Half an hour to go. Her pulse stepped up a beat.
She picked up the remote control and switched on the television, more as a distraction than to watch anything. With the volume on low, she flicked through the channels. Tinder closed his eyes and began to doze.
An old film was running and Jan glanced between the television and the time on her phone. Eight o’clock gradually approached. A few minutes before eight Jan turned off the television and listened. Tinder was still asleep. She watched him carefully. He’d probably hear it first. He slept on.
Eight o’clock came and went. Jan’s sense of expectation and foreboding increased. Where were they? She gently lifted Tinder from her lap and resettled him at the other end of the sofa. He looked at her inquisitively as she knelt on the sofa and then peered through the gap in the curtains into the dark beyond. There was nothing to be seen but the ghostly outline of the trees in the woods.
Jan stayed where she was, her breath shallow. She held the edge of the curtain and glanced at Tinder for any sign he’d heard something. Five minutes passed and he began dozing again. Perhaps they weren’t coming tonight. Perhaps they wouldn’t ever come again. Animals changed their dens and burrows. She’d give it another fifteen minutes and then switch off the sensor light.
It crossed Jan’s mind as she waited, looking through the gap in the curtains, that perhaps she’d become a little obsessed with whatever was visiting the garden. Chris clearly hadn’t been worried. But she knew she wouldn’t sleep easy until she’d seen whatever was out there. She couldn’t shift the feeling she’d had in the garden of being watched. It had been intense and she didn’t think it was just her imagination.
A few more minutes passed, then Tinder slowly raised his head. His ears pricked up and his eyes rounded as he began a low, guttural growl. He’d heard something, but the motion-sensor light hadn’t come on. Perhaps whatever it was had just entered the garden and was now making its way over the lawn towards the cottage. Jan clutched the edge of the curtain, ready to pull it open. Tinder was still growling.
Suddenly a noise at the back door made her jump. Tinder leapt off the sofa and ran to the door, barking. But the light outside still hadn’t come on, so whatever it was must have avoided the sensor and gone straight to the back door.
Jan went after Tinder. He was pawing the door, desperate to get out. She gingerly opened the back door, aware that any noise would probably cause whatever was outside to run away. The cold night air rushed in, but there was nothing to be seen. As she stared into the darkness, door held ready to close, Tinder ran to the bottom of the garden barking furiously, then disappeared through the hedge. Drat! The barking stopped, then Jan heard a yelp of pain come from the woods. A cry that suggested an animal – possibly a dog – had been injured.
‘Tinder?’ she called, praying he would reappear.
Nothing.
‘Tinder!’
A lone owl hooted in the distance.
Shit! She needed to find him and fast. Not giving herself time to think, she ran out over the lawn towards the place where he had disappeared.
‘Tinder!’ she shouted. The air was still. ‘Tinder!’ He could be hurt.
Suddenly her blood ran cold as she heard a noise come from behind. She spun round, just in time to see a shadowy figure run down the side of the cottage.
‘Stop!’ she shouted, giving chase.
Too late. She arrived in time to see it disappear over the gate. Shivering, Jan returned to the back door. ‘Tinder!’ she shouted one last time as she went in.
Nothing. Not a sound.
NINE
Jan sat on the sofa, wrapped in the duvet from her bed and sipped a hot toddy. The heating was on, but she couldn’t get warm. Even the hot toddy – whisky, water, lemon and honey – wasn’t really helping.
Tinder was missing again and she was really struggling to make sense of what she’d seen. Was there more than one of them? Tinder had chased something through the hedge and then that something had appeared behind her, close to the cottage. Had it intended to go in? She shivered. It was possible. It must have been hiding in the bushes beside the cottage, watching her as she went down the garden after Tinder. Had it hidden there before?
Jan took another sip of her drink and tried to steady her nerves. Were the two of them working together, and what or who were they? The way they’d avoided the sensor light could have been luck or intelligence. Squirrels were renowned for their intelligence when searching for food and could break into quite elaborate squirrel-proof bird feeders. She knew because her parents had problems with squirrels in their garden. But what she’d seen wasn’t a squirrel. Not by a long way.
It was much larger and a different shape entirely. When she’d caught sight of it before she’d thought it could have been a fox on its hind legs, but now she discounted that idea completely.
The shadowy form she’d seen had appeared more human, child-like, and the word primate came to mind. Could something have escaped from a zoo and was now living in the woods? There was a zoo about forty miles away; she’d seen it on Google Maps. Were monkeys capable of making that kind of journey and then surviving in the wild in the UK climate? She didn’t know. Some non-native species like parakeets and the American mink had colonized rural areas, she’d read online. But if something similar had happened here then surely Chris would have told her when she’d mentioned it before. He’d been unfazed and vague and said he couldn’t really remember if Camile had said anything about animals visiting the cottage. Perhaps Camile hadn’t told him, or perhaps it hadn’t happened while she’d been living here. Although judging from the track marks, they could have been coming into the garden for some time.
Or perhaps she was getting this all out of perspective, Jan thought with a sigh. Children or primates living in the wood! Whatever next! Yet she’d definitely seen something go over the gate. She snuggled further under her duvet and turned on the television. She couldn’t go to bed until Tinder had returned safely from the woods and she needed to try to think about something else.
Fifteen minutes later she’d finished the hot toddy and made herself another one. The whisky had taken effect and she was feeling warmer and braver. As she waited for the kettle to boil, she unlocked the back door. Holding it open just wide enough to allow her voice to carry outside, she called, ‘Tinder! Tinder! Come on, good boy!’
She listened, called him again, and then closed and bolted the door. She’d try again later.
Taking the hot toddy to the sofa, Jan gazed absently at the television, the sound down, while listening for any noise outside. Every so often she checked the time on her phone. Nine-thirty, ten, ten-thirty, eleven o’clock. Tinder had been missing for over three hours, longer than he’d ever been gone before. Had that yelp of pain come from him? She couldn’t be sure. Was he lying injured, unable to return?
Jan went to the back door and called him again and again, but there was still no sight or sound of him. She didn’t have the courage to go out into the woods to search at night. If he didn’t return, she’d go as soon as it was light in the morning. One last call and she returned to sit on the sofa and continued staring unseeing at the television. More time passed. Eleven-thirty, then it was midnight. Outside it began to rain. Tinder hated rain. Surely he would come back now if he could?
‘Tinder!’ she cried at the back door.
But all she could hear was the steady patter of rain.
‘Tinder!’
She closed the door. Something must have happened for him to be missing this long in the rain. That yelp of pain must have been him. Tinder must be lying injured in the woods at this very moment, dying or even dead. A lump rose to her throat. She’d never forgive herself if something had happened to him. Camile had entrusted her to look after her beloved pet and Jan had cared for him as if he’d been her own. Yet now she was too much of a coward to go into the woods and look for him.
Suddenly she started as a knock sounded on the front door. She froze. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The time on her phone showed 00.15. Who the hell was here? Not a visitor, not at this time. Her heart raced as all manner of possibilities charged through her thoughts. Perhaps she should call the police? Or could it have been the wind moving the door knocker? Already unsettled, it was possible that’s what she’d heard.
She kept very quiet and still, listening for any noise suggesting someone was there. Were they trying to break in? Her stomach churned. Her car was outside, but that wasn’t worth much. The only light on was in the living room and that couldn’t be seen from the front. Did they think the cottage was empty? Fear gripped her.
The knock came again, more insistent, then the doorbell rang. A burglar wouldn’t ring the doorbell, or would they? Perhaps it was a ploy so they could burst in when she answered. She should call the police. She picked up her phone. But what was she going to say? Someone was at her front door? Wouldn’t they tell her to see who it was, and anyway by the time they arrived out here, it would probably be too late. Either they would have gone or broken in. An image of being tied up as burglars ransacked the cottage flashed through her mind. The remoteness of the cottage that had attracted her in the first place had turned into a living nightmare.
Suddenly Jan’s phone buzzed with a text message. Her hand trembled as she looked at the screen. The message was from Chris: I’m at the front door. Are you in? I’ve got Tinder.
Utter relief. Chris was here with Tinder. She could have cried with joy. Running to the front door, she threw it open and nearly kissed them both.
‘Here you go,’ Chris said, placing Tinder in her arms.
‘Thank you so much. I’ve been worried sick. Where on earth did you find him? Come in from the rain.’ She cuddled and petted Tinder as Chris came in.
‘He was sitting outside the village store in Merryless waiting for it to open,’ Chris said. ‘It was lucky I spotted him on my way home. Goodness knows what he was doing there.’
‘Thank you,’ she said again, rubbing the top of Tinder’s head. ‘I’m so grateful.’
Chris smiled. ‘You’re welcome. I would have kept him overnight and phoned to say he was with me, but you know how he pines if he’s away from home. It makes him ill.’
‘Yes,’ Jan said. ‘He’s a big softie, aren’t you?’ She tickled Tinder’s chin. The reason Camile had wanted someone to rent the cottage who could look after Tinder was because he didn’t do well in kennels or being left with someone else – even someone he knew.
‘Would you like a drink?’ she offered. They were still in the hall.
‘If it’s not too late,’ Chris replied, and took off his wet coat. ‘I walked here.’
‘You walked here from the village in the dark and rain?’ Jan exclaimed. ‘Along Wood Lane!’
‘Yes,’ he laughed, following her into the living room. ‘There’s nothing in the woods that can hurt you. It’s people who do the harm.’
‘There are people in the woods?’ Jan asked.
‘No. I’m just saying it’s people, not the dark, who can do you harm. Are you all right? You seem a bit on edge.’
‘I’m OK. I’ve just been worried about Tinder.’
Now Chris was here her previous fears and conjecture had gone and she was starting to feel safe again.
‘What would you like to drink?’ she asked, placing Tinder on his rug.
‘Whatever you’re having,’ Chris replied. His gaze went to the bottle of whisky she’d used for the hot toddies.
‘Whisky. Anything in it?’
‘Just a splash of water, please.’
As Chris sat in his usual armchair, Jan poured two generous whiskies. ‘Ice?’ she called from the kitchen.
‘No, thanks.’
She added water and carried the glasses into the living room, handed one to Chris and then sat on the sofa. Tinder immediately jumped onto her lap and she began stroking him.
‘You seem quite at home here,’ Chris remarked, sipping his drink.
‘I suppose I am.’ How different the cottage felt now she had company. ‘You were out late?’ she said.
‘I was returning from seeing a friend.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘It’s fine. We’re old school friends. We get together every couple of months and sink a few beers. Quite a few, in fact, which is why I didn’t take my car.’
‘I’m so pleased you found Tinder,’ Jan said. ‘I’ll know next time where to look for him.’
‘He’s never gone that far before. I guess he chased something into the woods and got lost.’
‘He did, but what made you think that?’ Jan asked.
‘You said before he�
�d chased something from the garden.’
She nodded and took another sip of her drink. ‘Whatever is coming into the garden was here again tonight. I think there could be more than one.’
‘Where are they getting in?’
‘Through the hole in the hedge at the bottom of the garden. But tonight …’ she stopped. It seemed ridiculous to try to describe what she’d seen scramble over the side gate. Chris was a regular down-to-earth type of guy. Someone who could happily walk along Wood Lane at night and not get spooked.
‘Yes?’ he encouraged, looking at her carefully.
‘I’m worried they might get indoors,’ Jan said. ‘One got very close tonight.’
‘And you don’t know what they are?’
She shook her head.
‘Would you like me to board up the hole in the hedge?’ Chris offered. ‘I’m free tomorrow morning. There’s bound to be some wood in the shed here I can use. If not, I’m sure I’ve got something that will do in my garage.’
Jan suddenly felt very silly. Of course the obvious solution was to block the hole.
‘And Camile won’t mind?’ she checked.
‘No, why should she?’ Chris said. ‘Not if it’s causing you a problem.’
He’d clearly forgotten his text telling her she should ask Camile first before she changed anything in the cottage. Jan wasn’t going to remind him now.
‘I’m sure I can do it,’ she said. ‘The shed is full of bits of wood.’
‘OK, but if you want some help, give me a ring.’
‘I will. Thanks.’
Chris emptied his glass.
‘Would you like a refill?’ she offered.
‘No, I should be going now.’
He stood and she saw him to the door where he unhooked his coat from the hall stand and slipped it on.
‘Thanks again for finding Tinder. Do you want to take my car to get home?’ Jan offered.
