The Cottage

by Lisa Stone

  ‘We’d need to show that a crime has been committed, and we can’t at present. There’s no evidence, but look at this last entry,’ Ian said, moving the cursor to the line containing the details of Grant and Chelsea Ryan. ‘They’re local and had a baby recently. I was thinking of phoning them to find out what their experience was of using the clinic. I’d have to think of a reason for having their details.’

  ‘Perhaps you could pretend you’re from the hospital healthcare team?’ Emma suggested. ‘I had someone call me after the miscarriages and offer counselling.’

  Ian hesitated. ‘I don’t know. What would I say? I’m better with computers than people.’

  ‘I know.’ Emma managed a small, sad smile. ‘Shall I phone them?’

  ‘Do you think you could without giving us away?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. I know the sort of thing they say when they phone.’

  ‘Wouldn’t talking about our babies upset you?’ Ian asked, concerned.

  ‘Maybe, but I’ll have to hide it, won’t I?’ Emma said bravely. ‘We need to find out what’s going on, but if I’m going to phone them, I’d better do it now before I have time to think about it and lose my nerve. What do you want me to find out?’

  ‘Anything you can about their experience of using the clinic. Shall we practise, have a run through it? You could pretend to phone me and I’ll answer. There’s just their landline number so be prepared for either of them to answer. If it goes through to voicemail, don’t leave a message. We’ll set our phone to “private number” so it can’t be traced.’

  ‘OK, let’s practise,’ Emma said, throwing her tissue in the bin.

  Ian made the noise of a phone trilling and then answered. ‘Hello?’

  FORTY-SEVEN

  ‘Is that Chelsea Ryan?’ Emma asked as a female voice answered. The phone was on speaker so Ian could hear.

  ‘Yes. Who is this?’

  ‘I’m calling from the Primary Care Trust. How are you?’

  ‘OK, I guess. But I already told that other woman I don’t want counselling.’

  ‘No, I understand. That’s fine,’ Emma said. ‘I’m just phoning to make sure you haven’t changed your mind, and to ask you a few questions about your experiences if you have a moment.’

  ‘Yeah, sure. Go ahead.’ Emma glanced at Ian and he gave her the thumbs-up sign.

  ‘Did you and your husband ever attend the Moller Clinic?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t think so. What is it?’

  ‘A fertility clinic.’

  ‘No. We don’t need that.’

  ‘Thank you. Do you know if either of your parents attended the clinic?’

  ‘Not as far as I know. Do you want me to ask Grant?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Emma took a moment to breathe again as Chelsea shouted to Grant, ‘Did your parents go to the Moller Clinic? It’s a fertility clinic.’

  ‘No idea!’ he shouted back. ‘Who are you talking to?’

  ‘Someone from the Health Care Team. So I’ll tell her you don’t know.’

  ‘Yeah, and also tell them to get a move on with our compensation.’

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Chelsea asked, returning to the phone.

  ‘Yes. What compensation is that?’ Emma asked, glancing at Ian. He looked as nervous as she felt.

  ‘We’re going to get compensation because the hospital lost our baby’s body. We had nothing to bury, but I thought you would know that.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry, I wasn’t given that information. How upsetting for you both. I am sorry. What happened?’ Emma asked, fighting back her own emotion.

  ‘She was cremated instead of being kept in the mortuary,’ Chelsea said. ‘They’re going to hold an inquiry. Grant found us a lawyer on a no-win, no-fee basis so we’re suing them for compensation. Grant wants the midwife sacked too, but I liked Anne, and anyone can make a mistake.’

  ‘You’re too bloody soft!’ Grant shouted in the background.

  ‘Your midwife was called Anne?’ Emma asked. ‘What was her surname?’

  ‘Long. Anne Long. She was lovely. Really kind and caring. She just made a mistake. I don’t want her to lose her job.’

  ‘Well, I do!’ Grant shouted. ‘Anyway, what’s that got to do with whoever you’re talking to?’

  Ian motioned to Emma to wind up the call.

  ‘I am so sorry for your loss,’ Emma said again. ‘Thank you for your time. I hope you get what you want.’ Saying goodbye, she ended the call, then turned to Ian. ‘Show me that spreadsheet again.’

  ‘What is it?’ he asked, holding the laptop between them. The Second Generation spreadsheet was still open on the screen.

  Emma was quiet as she looked again at the entries. ‘You see those letters – A.L. –beside some of the names?’ she said. ‘They could be the initials of Anne Long. They’re beside our names and Chelsea and Grant’s and some others. About thirty of them. Could it be that Moller is making a note of the midwife some of us used?’

  ‘Why would he do that?’ Ian asked. ‘And the others don’t have any initials at all. If you’re right, shouldn’t they have the initials of their midwives too? A.L. could stand for any number of things. I assumed it was a medical abbreviation to do with infertility. What made you think of Anne Long?’

  ‘When she updated my antenatal notes she always signed them A.L . It just struck me. I’m probably wrong.’

  ‘There is a way we could find out,’ Ian said. ‘By phoning some of the others who have the same initials beside their names and asking them if their midwife was Anne Long. But before we do that, I think we should check the names on the spreadsheet with the patient folders. If the “Second Generation” are the grandchildren of Moller’s patients there should be a folder for their parents. We know our parents are there, and I’m sure I’ve seen one for the Ryans.’

  ‘Yes,’ Emma said. ‘But before we do that you should have something to eat first. You must be starving.’

  ‘I am,’ Ian admitted. ‘And exhausted. It’s been a very long day.’

  FORTY-EIGHT

  At seven-thirty that Wednesday evening Jan scooped up Tinder from where he was lying on the sofa and carried him upstairs and into her bedroom. She set him on her bed and came out, closing the door securely. Hopefully he would sleep and not chew things. She’d let him out as soon as she had taken the video clip. Capturing them on film would be undeniable proof, not open to misinterpretation as a photograph could be.

  With a mixture of fear and anticipation, Jan returned downstairs. Not long to go now. She’d been waiting all day for this moment and yet, as it approached, she wondered if she was really doing the right thing. Perhaps it would be wiser and safer simply to leave the cottage and try to put all this behind her. But then not knowing was likely to fuel her imagination and haunt her even more. She’d seen something that couldn’t be explained and needed to know what it was before she left.

  Going into the living room, Jan opened the curtains so the light from the room shone out over the patio. She went into the kitchen and gathered together the food she’d bought to entice them, then opened the back door. It was another cold but dry night. A crescent moon hung in a cloudless sky and the light from the living room fell dimly over the patio. She’d switch it off once she’d finished.

  Jan began depositing little piles of food around the patio. Not randomly as she had before, but leading from the outer edges of the patio to the window. Close enough, she hoped, that she’d be able to film them while they ate. For a moment she was startled as she heard a noise in the shrubbery, but then a bird fluttered out. She quickly finished distributing the food and returned indoors, locking and bolting the back door.

  She checked that her phone was on silent – the camera flash wasn’t on – and then, going into the living room, switched off the light. It was pitch black now. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust, and she groped her way to the armchair where she took one of the cushions to sit on. She placed it on the floor behi
nd the sofa to the far right of the patio window. Partially concealed by the full-length curtain, she had a clear view of the patio where the food was most concentrated. From here she should be able to take a video without being seeing.

  The most likely time for them to come was between eight and ten o’clock, so within the next two hours. She’d have to keep very still and stay in the same position for all that time. One movement and they might see her and flee. She made herself as comfortable as possible and held the phone ready in her lap. They wouldn’t be able to see her unless they came right up to the glass and looked in. As soon as they began taking the food she’d start filming, the infrared on her phone camera allowing her to film in the dark.

  Jan kept very still and waited. Tinder was quiet upstairs, hopefully asleep. The minutes passed and her breath came fast and shallow.

  Unable to risk checking her phone in case they were approaching and saw, she could only guess the time. She thought it was nine o’clock, not much later. It felt like nearly an hour had gone by, but it was difficult to tell. More time passed. She hoped it hadn’t all been in vain. Perhaps they’d been watching her arrange the food and had guessed her intention. She thought they were intelligent enough.

  More time passed and then Jan saw a small movement at the very edge of her vision. She didn’t dare turn her head and risk being seen. Were they coming, lured in by the food? Investigating or eating it? Would they follow the trail and come close enough to the window for her to film? Her heart raced as her fingers closed around the phone. She kept very still and concentrated hard.

  Another minute passed and then she saw a small hand. She had to stop herself from crying out. So she hadn’t been imagining it! Petrified but enthralled, she watched as it took a grape. Then a wrist appeared. Lean like a child’s but covered in fine hair. What was she seeing? It was taking food, but then the hand abruptly disappeared from view. Shit! Had she lost her chance to film? Jan kept very still, phone at the ready. Willing it to reappear but at the same time dreading it.

  A few moments passed and the hand appeared again and then an arm, covered by the sleeve of a jacket. Her heart beat wildly. He was turned away so she couldn’t see his face, but he was the size and shape of a young boy. There must be children living feral in the woods like animals. There was no other explanation. She’d discovered something incredible and alarming that no one else knew. Should she start filming now or wait in the hope of getting a better view? She was sure she’d only get one chance.

  Senses on full alert, Jan waited as he stayed where he was, turned away and eating. If she waited too long, she might miss her chance.

  She was about to raise her phone and start filming when out of the dark a girl appeared. She watched in horror and amazement as the girl joined the boy. She needed to start filming now or she could miss the opportunity. Adrenalin pumped through her as she slowly raised her phone, praying they wouldn’t turn and see her at the last moment. Then she was looking at their images on the screen and recording. Jan kept the phone as steady as her trembling hands would allow. They moved from one pile of food to the next. Closer now, closer still, then right up to the window. The boy looked in. Jan stifled a cry and kept filming. But he’d seen her. They turned and fled.

  Trembling, Jan pulled herself to her feet and came out from behind the sofa. She switched on the living-room light and closed the curtains, struggling to calm herself. What had she just seen?

  She stood in the living room, gripping her phone. It contained the proof she needed, evidence of what she and Chris had seen. There was no pretending or denying they existed now. Trying to silence her racing heart, Jan played the video. The image was dark but with the camera’s infrared they were clear enough to see. Two of them, child-like, taking the food and then coming right up to the window, looking straight at her. If she hadn’t seen them with her own eyes, she would never have believed it. Children, but not like any she’d ever seen.

  She pressed play again and examined the clip more closely. Then she spotted something else and a new fear gripped her. Partially visible in the shadows at the outer edge of the patio was the outline of an adult. She hadn’t seen it when she’d played the clip before and had been concentrating on the foreground. She played the clip again. It was certainly a person. Too indistinct to identify or even be sure if it was a man or woman. Were they still out there? What did they want? She needed to call the police.

  At that moment the front doorbell rang and Tinder began barking from upstairs. Terror gripped her. She felt sick with fear. Keep calm and call the police, she told herself. Press 999. She was about to when her phone began ringing. The caller display showed Chris. What the hell!

  She pressed to accept the call.

  ‘It’s me at the front door,’ he said. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘To make sure you’re all right. Are you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, open the door so I can help you.’

  ‘What made you come here now?’

  ‘You’re not answering my texts.’

  Could he be trusted? Did she have any choice?

  FORTY-NINE

  Trembling, Jan opened the front door, just wide enough to be able to see it was Chris. ‘Why are you here?’ she asked again, her voice unsteady. She kept one hand on the door, ready to close it if necessary.

  ‘You didn’t answer my texts,’ Chris said, looking concerned. ‘I wanted to make sure you were all right. Which clearly you’re not.’

  She stared at him, uncertain.

  ‘When I arrived at the cottage just now I found it in darkness. And why is Tinder barking from your bedroom? You look very pale. Are you ill?’

  ‘No, I’ve had a shock,’ Jan said. ‘Was that you in the back garden just now?’

  ‘No, of course not. Is there someone there?’

  ‘There was. I expect they’ve gone now.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Sure that I saw someone or sure that they’ve gone?’

  ‘Shall I come in and check?’ he asked.

  Jan looked at him carefully and didn’t immediately open the door wider.

  ‘Jan, it’s me, Chris,’ he said. ‘I am not going to harm you. Whatever is the matter?’

  She slowly opened the door and let him in.

  ‘I’ll check the garden,’ he said. Taking the torch from its hook, he walked swiftly down the hall. ‘You stay here,’ he called.

  ‘No, I’m coming with you.’

  Jan went after him, through the kitchen and into the garden. He held the torch out in front and swept its beam around the lawn and shrubbery. There was nothing to be seen. He went to the very bottom of the garden. She followed.

  ‘My repair is still in place,’ he said, focusing the beam of light on the planks of wood that still covered the hole in the hedge.

  ‘They can climb over things,’ Jan said, and saw his expression of incredulity.

  ‘What can, Jan?’ he asked, and shone the torch around the rest of the garden. ‘You said there was someone in the garden.’

  ‘There was.’

  The beam fell on the food on the patio. ‘I’m not surprised creatures are coming in if you leave food out,’ Chris said tersely.

  ‘I wanted them to stay long enough to film them.’

  ‘And did they?’ he asked sceptically.

  ‘Yes.’

  She saw his expression change to astonishment and unease, then he recovered.

  ‘There’s nothing here now,’ he said firmly. ‘You look cold. Come on, let’s go indoors and you can show me the video you took.’

  She went with him. As they approached the back door he paused to shine the torch down the side passageway. ‘That’s how your intruder got in,’ he said. ‘You’ve left the gate open.’

  ‘It was closed the last time I looked,’ Jan said lamely.

  Chris shut the side gate. ‘Keep it closed and they won’t come in,’ he said.

  He was taking this a
ll too well, Jan thought, but he would struggle to account for the video clip.

  ‘Shall I make you a hot drink?’ Chris asked as they went in.

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘So where’s this film?’

  He was standing next to her as she pressed play on her phone. She watched his face, but it gave nothing away. ‘Hmm,’ was all he said. ‘It’s rather dark.’

  ‘But you can see them, can’t you?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Well? Who or what are they?’ she asked, and played the video clip again.

  ‘I’ve no idea. I could ask Camile if she has any idea.’

  ‘Ask Camile!’ Jan exclaimed, astonished. ‘Why are you trying to normalize what clearly isn’t normal at all.’

  ‘I’m not. I’ve no idea what you saw.’

  ‘And what about that person in the background?’ Jan said, her anger growing. She stopped the video at that point and showed Chris.

  He looked more closely at the image. ‘Perhaps it was Bill Smith from the village. He sometimes wanders after dark and could easily have come down your sideway. Let me have another look.’

  Jan passed him the phone and watched his expression as he studied the image. Tinder was still barking.

  ‘I’m going to take it to the police tomorrow,’ Jan said.

  Chris nodded. ‘That’s your choice, but can you let Tinder out now? He’s getting very distressed up there.’

  Jan went upstairs, annoyed by Chris’s reaction. Here she was, showing him evidence of something incredible and he was trying to rationalize it! She opened her bedroom door and Tinder shot out and downstairs. By the time she returned, Chris was in the hall ready to go.

  ‘I can’t tell if it’s Bill or not,’ he said, handing back her phone. ‘I’ll check on him on my way home. If he’s not in, I’ll let the police know. It’s a cold night to be out. Are you all right to stay here tonight?’

  ‘Yes. Shouldn’t I be? I’ve nowhere else to go at this time.’

  ‘You can stay with me if you like, I have a spare bedroom.’