Storm Witch

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Storm Witch Page 53

by Alys West


  ***

  Hal walked down the hill and turned into the lane leading to Point of Ness. He’d not been able to settle at home. Something was wrong, more wrong than Jenna had let on and he’d been an idiot to let her talk him into leaving.

  The lane passed through the small Stromness campsite. A couple were pitching a small tent while conducting a whispered argument. A woman sat in a brightly-coloured chair outside her campervan. There was a steady breeze but it was an ordinary summer’s evening here. Whereas at the Stewarts’, which was only a couple of miles away across the water, there was hail, thunder and gales.

  He reached the edge of the campsite where it joined the coastal path. The breeze sharpened. He had a panoramic view along Scapa Flow from here. To the left, over the voe, the Mainland curved round to where the Stewarts lived. The arc of the coast prevented him seeing the house but he could see the mass of heavy clouds that hung unmoving in the vicinity.

  None of it made sense. A wind that strong should have blown the storm on, past the Stewarts’ and over the rest of the Mainland. It shouldn’t sit suspended in one place. Physics didn’t work that way.

  Hal reached into his fleece pocket and pulled out his mobile. There were three messages from Cassie. He ignored them and pressed the app for calls. He put the mobile to his ear and listened to it ring. If Jenna assured him everything was fine then he’d let it go. She’d said his engineering brain couldn’t figure it out but what explanation could she possibly come up with that’d make sense of something which confounded the laws of thermodynamics?

  The call went to voicemail. “It’s Hal, can you ring me when you get this? I just want to know you’re alright.”

  He slid the phone back into his pocket. Turning, he walked along the coastal path. To his right, came the clunk of golf clubs connecting with golf balls. On the other side, brown rocks formed seaweed-strewn steps and ledges. Waves slapped against them with a regularity which he usually found soothing. This evening it seemed to be having the opposite effect. Instead of taking the road that cut through the golf course to home, he kept walking. There were things he should be doing, jobs he had to get done before Cassie arrived but they’d have to wait.

  He climbed the incline to a small promontory. A grey concrete gun emplacement squatted on it, a remnant of Orkney’s wartime past. Hal looked back along the way he’d walked, past Point of Ness and along the coast of Orphir. Nothing had changed. The clouds were suspended there, inexplicably unmoving.

  His mobile was in his hand. It wouldn’t do any harm to try her again. He was bracing himself to get her voicemail when a very different voice said, “Hello?”

  ***

  “I think it’s working.” Shouting over the sound of the wind, Finn turned to scan the sky.

  The gusts did seem to be less frequent and less vicious. It wasn’t quite as difficult to stand as it had been when they first came out.

  “One more for luck then?” Winston opened the tin but this time his hand came out half empty. He peered inside, saw the shiny bottom and not much covering it. “Looks like that’s it anyway. We’re out of ash.”

  “Shit!” Finn took the tin from him and looked inside. “It’d better be bloody working then. Otherwise all we’ve got left is your plan B.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with plan B.” Winston formed a light ball around the ash in his hand.

  “Except we’ve no idea if it’ll actually work.” Finn bounced his light ball from palm to palm. Winston scowled. Finn had clearly put in some practice since Glastonbury and it’d paid off.

  “One last shot?” Winston repeated his squat and throw action. The light ball shot upwards. He lost sight of it shortly before it disappeared into the clouds.

  As Finn threw, Winston scanned the current state of carnage caused by the storm. The good news was it wasn’t as bad as Zoe’s drawing. They’d got everyone out except Andrew so the risk of injuries was low. The house was still standing and the only external signs of damage were the missing roof tiles and broken window in the utility room. The garden was a disaster area and getting worse. The fence had fallen, the shed roof was probably halfway to Kirkwall and the barbeque had scorched an enormous hole in the decking. The plants had been decimated, broken foliage and torn flowers swirled around, caught up in every gust. The hail had melted into the grass which was now becoming a huge mud slide down the slope towards the sea. Waves continued to pound the lower portion of the garden. As he watched another one crashed against the wall and broke into a million tiny droplets on the grass beneath.

  Thunder rumbled followed seconds later by another flash of lightning as Finn jogged back down the slope to join him. He wasn’t even out of breath, the bastard. “So come on then let’s have it,” he said.

  “I’ve told you how it works.” Winston leaned on his staff trying not to show that, once the flow of awen lessened, every muscle in his body ached. Once they got through this, he really was going to spend time in the gym.

  “I know but it sounded so ridiculous I switched off halfway through.”

  Winston shot him a look. “We form a force field around the house—”

  “Yeah, got that bit. Except have you seen this place?” Finn gestured at the house. “It’s bloody massive. We’ve never held a force field that’s even half that big.”

  “Then we start around the utility room and push it out. If we can cut Rachel off from the elements then she’ll lose control of the storm.”

  “I think she lost control some time ago. That’s the problem.”

  “Are you going to say anything helpful?” Water trickled down the back of Winston’s neck and he couldn’t repress a shiver.

  “This is helpful. If we use everything we’ve got to create an enormous force field we can’t hold then how are we going to stop her?”

  “You got a better plan?” A shout from the house made him turn. Grace stood on the decking, waving wildly. “Now what?” He exchanged a glance with Finn before jogging up the garden together.

  “Have you seen Jenna?” Grace called when they were still a few feet away.

  “I thought she was with you.”

  “She went to get me a glass of water but she didn’t come back. I’ve been looking for her and I found this.” Grace held out a mobile phone that looked a lot like Jenna’s.

  There was a huge crack across the screen that hadn’t been there earlier but as he pressed the button it filled with a photograph of Jenna with Nina and her dad. A cold ball formed in the pit of his stomach. “Where did you find it?”

  “On the kitchen floor. I only spotted it when it rang.” They followed Grace as she returned inside. “It was Hal. He wanted to talk to Jenna. He’s going to call back.”

  “Fuck Hal!” Winston slammed his hand against the wall.

  “Hey, it’s a big house,” Finn said. “She’s probably—”

  “I have looked,” Grace said. “I’ve been upstairs, into all the rooms but she’s not there.”

  The coldness in his stomach grew. “Then where the hell is she?”

  “Perhaps she went home.” Finn sounded calmly reasonable which was bloody annoying. “She’s been through a lot in the last couple of days—”

  “She’d have told me.” Winston pulled his mobile from his jacket pocket. There were no new messages, no missed calls. “Is her car here?”

  “I’ll check.” Finn jogged across the room.

  “Did she say anything to you?” Winston turned to Grace. She looked shattered but he couldn’t worry about that now. “Anything at all?”

  “Only that she wasn’t going to leave. Finn suggested she go with Zoe but she wanted to stay. She feels a loyalty to her cousins despite what their father has done.”

  “Too much damned loyalty—” He broke off as Finn reappeared, his face grim. “What—?”

  “Her car’s here but it’s worse than that, mate. Grace, will you see if there’s any whisky left behind the bar? He’s going to need one.”

  “What? What’s happ
ened?”

  “You need to listen to this.” Finn held out his mobile.

  “Why? Is it from Jenna?” As he spoke, Winston took it.

  “No, it’s from Zoe and when I see her I’m going to throttle her.” Finn paced in front of the patio doors. “I should have known she was up to something. She never gives in without a fight. And after she promised she’d not do anything risky. If this isn’t risky, then I don’t know what is.”

  Winston pressed the screen to make the voicemail play.

  “Finn, I know you told me to go back to the B&B but it didn’t feel right to just leave.” Zoe sounded panicky and afraid. “So I parked up on the lane and I saw Jenna leaving the house with some guy. I don’t know who he is but I don’t think she wanted to go with him. She tried to run away and he caught her. I saw it through your binoculars. It was awful. I’m going after them. I’ll ring again when I know more.”

  The coldness in his stomach tightened and knotted. A glass appeared in front of him and he knocked it back. The liquid heated the back of his throat but didn’t touch the cold knot in his stomach.

  “I’ve rung Zoe back but it goes straight to voicemail.” Finn stopped pacing for a moment. “She wouldn’t have switched off so I don’t—”

  His brain could compute that information at least. “Signal’s bad in some places. Keep trying. I’m going to speak to Andrew. Where is he?”

  “Cowering in the study, the last I saw him,” Grace said.

  “Right.” He knew where to find that. It was one of the doors he’d thrown open on Friday. “Don’t come if you’re squeamish, Grace. This isn’t going to be pretty.”

  ***

  Hal stood in his hall with his mobile in his hand. He’d told Grace he’d call back in ten minutes but he’d decided to leave it another minute or two. It was a big house. Grace might need longer to track her down. Because, despite Grace’s obvious anxiety, the most likely explanation was that Jenna was at the Stewarts’ somewhere. Perhaps she was with Andrew, talking through their differences. Only that didn’t explain how her mobile had ended up on the kitchen floor. Or any of the other downright bizarre things which had happened this afternoon.

  He checked his watch again, it was nearly eight now. He pressed the screen to call Jenna’s number. As it rang, he picked his car keys off the hall table. Just in case…

  “Hal, I’m not sure what to tell you.” Grace didn’t waste time on hello. “We think she might be in trouble. She left here with a man. We don’t know who and we don’t know where they’ve gone.”

  “Bloody hell!” Hal’s grip tightened around his mobile. “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure. We’re waiting to hear back from Zoe. She followed them but we can’t get hold of her. Winston thinks her mobile’s out of range.”

  “I’m coming back.” Hal opened the front door and stepped outside. “I’ll be there in ten.”

  “I’m not sure there’s anything you can do.”

  “If you think I’m going to sit calmly at home while—” He broke off. That was a sentence he couldn’t finish. “Damnit! I have to do something.”

  Down the line he heard a distant voice yell, “I don’t bloody well know where she is!” before Grace said, “Alright but—”

  Hal cut her off. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “Winston’s having a bit of a chat with Andrew.”

  “With what? Thumbscrews?” He tucked his mobile under his chin as he got into the car. “Is that really necessary? I mean I know he’s an unscrupulous bastard but you can’t think he had any part in this.”

  “I wouldn’t put much past Andrew Stewart. Hasn’t Jenna told you what he did?”

  He switched to speaker as he clipped his mobile to the dashboard. “Told me what?”

  “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll see you when—”

  “What? What is it you’re not telling me?” He started the engine and reversed off the drive. “Is it to do with the storm? There’s something weird about it, something Jenna knew but wouldn’t tell me.”

  “It’s not my secret to tell, Hal,” Grace said. “It has to come from Jenna. I’ve got to go.” Then the phone cut out.

  “Bloody, fucking hell!” Hal slammed his hand against the steering wheel. Stuff like this didn’t happen in Orkney. It was one of the things he loved about the place. One of the reasons he’d used to try to convince Cassie it’d be a great place—

  But he couldn’t think about that. Jenna needed him. That was all that mattered.

  ***

  Jenna’s cheek was pressed against the leather seat. Trying to sit up had created intolerable pain in her bound wrists so instead she’d curled her legs up next to her chest. She’d no idea how long they’d been travelling. There’d been turns along the way when she’d struggled not to slide across the smooth leather. She’d tried to look out of the window but all she could see was sky. By keeping her eyes straight ahead she got a limited view of the road ahead through the gap between the front seats. She was pretty sure they were heading north. If she tilted her head she could see the clock on the dashboard. 8:13. Too late for a ferry south tonight.

  If she was still on Orkney then maybe somehow, someone would find her. She had to believe that. Wouldn’t Winston have worked out by now that she was gone? She should have let him be her sword arm, her hammer, her Drake. If she had then perhaps she wouldn’t be in this bloody mess.

  The Range Rover slowed. Through the window she saw a quick flash of cinnamon- coloured stone. Was that the Palace? Could they be coming into Birsay? It didn’t make any sense that he’d bring her home. She craned her neck to try to see more but all she glimpsed were the top of roofs and clouds. The car was moving more slowly now, it took a left turn and then they eased to a stop. The driver’s door opened.

  Jenna shuffled backwards, resting her bent legs on the car door. As soon as it opened she’d kick out with all she’d got. Would that give her enough time to run? Or to scream as loud and as hard as she could? But nothing happened. The door didn’t open. She didn’t even hear him walk away. The engine ticked as it cooled. Waiting became intolerable and she tried again to raise herself to sitting. Her wrists shrieked at her to stop but she bit down on the pain and struggled upwards.

  They were in the carpark outside the tearooms. The man was taking a drag on a vape pen while talking to Felicity. Her BMW was parked next to the Range Rover. Why had they brought her here? It didn’t make any sense. But if she got out while they were talking, all she had to do was make a dash for the house and then she’d be safe.

  She shuffled round until her back was to the door and patted up it, searching for the handle. It was higher than she’d expected and then she had to flex her wrists until her fingers got purchase. The skin on her wrists tore as she pulled on the handle. The door didn’t move. She tried again but still nothing. She slammed her whole weight back against the door but it didn’t budge.

  Something wet and warm trickled down her hands. She was bleeding. Her wrists hurt like hell and she’d achieved nothing. She bit her lip to hold back the tears. They weren’t going to help. She had to stay smart and get out of this in one piece. She’d hardly lived at all for six and a half years. She was damned if she was going to give up now.

  The scrunch of gravel made her look up. They were coming towards the car. They parted, one coming round each side. The car doors opened in unison. The man pointed his knife at her. “Now don’t make any trouble, Miss Henderson. You, me and Mrs S are going to have a little chat with your dad.”

  ***

  Zoe hadn’t the slightest clue where she was. She’d managed, while she followed the Range Rover along the largely straight road that passed the standing stones, to open Google maps on her mobile. It made her feel slightly less panicky that it seemed to know where she was even if she didn’t.

  It was significantly harder than she’d anticipated to keep the gold car in sight without driving right behind it. No amount of watching crime shows on TV
had prepared her for trying to do this in real life. It helped that the Range Rover was such a God-awful colour and, because of that, it stood out against the mellow greens and blues of the Orkney landscape.

  The road ran along the side of a small lake. Or loch, seeing as she was in Scotland. Then down a dip. At the next junction the Range Rover turned left. The sign said Birsay. Wasn’t that where Jenna’s dad lived? The road ran straight between fields grazed by sheep. The Range Rover picked up speed but she kept her distance. There were hardly any cars around now. She was going to be a lot more obvious if she got too close.

  The gold car turned left next to a ruined old building. Zoe followed but the corner was sharper than she’d anticipated. She over corrected and then hastily spun the wheel the other way. She was in a small village now. A grey pebbledash church with the sea behind it on one side, bungalows with pretty gardens on the other. The Range Rover continued over a low bridge and then as the road rose on the other side took a left turn. A discreet sign on the fence said ‘Palace Tearooms’. That was Jenna’s dad’s place.

  Zoe crossed the bridge and pulled into a lane end on the other side. She snatched up her mobile. Google maps confirmed she was in Birsay which appeared to be pretty much the end of the road. Why on earth had the man brought Jenna here? Oh God! Had she got it wrong? Was it possible that she’d misread what happened outside the Stewarts’, that Jenna was getting a lift back to her dad’s? Had she completely over-reacted because of what Maeve had done to her and jumped at terrors that weren’t there?

  She needed to talk to Finn. She pressed the screen to call his number and listened to the silence waiting for it to connect. When it didn’t ring she glanced at the screen. No signal. Shit! Now what was she going to do?

  Zoe peered through the windscreen. The Range Rover had disappeared behind a high wooden fence. She could walk up there and try to find out what was going on. If Jenna was fine then she’d just leave.

 

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