by David James
'Did you enjoy the salmon madam?' said the owner politely.
'Yes, it was fine thanks. Not too busy tonight is it.'
'We rarely get too busy, being rather out of the way.'
Sarah hesitated for a moment but forced herself to say 'It must have got busier when the children were found though.' She could feel her heart racing now, she looked for any change in his expression but couldn’t detect any.
'Yes we did have a few more media type of people here, for a while.'
Sarah knew that she would have to talk quickly before he disappeared with the plate.
'I was wondering, I had a friend who said he would be staying around here. He mentioned this guest house in fact.'
Sarah held his gaze now. She didn't want him to walk away and she wasn't sure how long she could maintain her confidence.
'We haven't had many people staying here recently. Could I have their name?'
Sarah hesitated, she was reluctant to use Ben's name for some reason.
'Ben Lawrence.' She looked for any reaction in his face. But there was none.
He replied almost instantly. 'There's been no one of that name staying here. We have mostly had couples. They come here for the walking. Are you sure it was this village, there are quite a lot of villages around here, and they can all appear the same to someone who is not from round here.'
She was sure now that she could detect a hint of sarcasm in his voice. As if he was saying that someone from the city like her wouldn't understand the countryside. But it had the effect of making her question if this had indeed been the guest house, or even the village, that Ben had mentioned. But deep down she knew it had been.
'He's about six feet tall, dark hair, not particularly well dressed,' said Sarah in desperation.
'No, no one of that description. Would you like to see the dessert menu madam?'
'No thanks,' she replied.
And before she could resume the conversation he smiled and disappeared.
Sarah took another drink from her glass. That had not gone as well as she had hoped. A nagging thought kept forcing itself into her mind; she tried to dismiss it, but it wouldn’t go away. Had Ben really come to this village at all? Why would he lie to her?
She resolved that she must ask around and see if anyone else remembered Ben. She felt slightly ashamed for doubting him, but it had been many years since she had seen him at university. And even then, they hadn't exactly been close friends. But the final clincher, was his occupation. Journalism hadn't exactly got the best reputation for honesty. If Ben had betrayed her in some way then she really was alone now. There was no one else to turn to for help. The dining room no longer felt comfortable for her, so she finished her drink and left the room as quickly as possible.
She turned the metal key in the bedroom door, walked in the room and lay on the bed. She stared at the plain white ceiling for so long that she became hypnotised by its whiteness, shapes began to appear across her vision. For a brief moment she could sympathise with spiders that got lost in a gleaming white bathtub. She shook her head and forced herself to look away from the ceiling and at the small clock that was at the side of the bed, she felt the overwhelming desire to sleep.
It was only eight o'clock.
It was quiet, almost uncomfortably quiet. She looked across at the door, she wondered if she had remembered to lock it. She was sure she had, she tried to picture herself locking it after she had come in. Try as she might she couldn’t actually picture it. She stood up off the bed, walked across to the door and turned the handle.
It was locked.
She knew it would be, but as she stood there she wondered if the lock would be enough to stop someone getting in, she couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t slept in her own bed, in her own house, with her own locks. She looked around the room and noticed a small chair, it looked just about the right height. Sarah dragged it across and wedged it against the handle and after rattling the handle she was satisfied that it couldn’t be opened. She had heeded Nathan’s warning.
She decided to finish unpacking her few belongings. The clothes were placed in the drawers and there were just two items left in her bag. She took out the folder of papers she had taken from her father’s study and last of all she took out the doll.
She hadn’t been entirely clear as to why she had brought it, maybe it was her way of maintaining the connection to her house and her childhood.
She placed it on the dresser next to the bed.
She returned to bed and decided to read for a while, but could barely concentrate and with the time a little after nine o'clock, she undressed and crawled under the covers. Outside was eerily quiet. The sort of quiet that she wasn't used to, living in a large town. It was almost unnerving. She tried to turn her mind off, but it still kept coming back to Ben; eventually she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Chapter Thirty Five
Sarah woke from a fitful dream. It made no sense, even for a dream, but it had been disjointed rather than frightening. She was at least sure that she hadn’t got up and walked around in the night.
As she clambered out of bed, she noticed on the table were a couple of what looked like brochures. She wondered if the village was big enough to have a tourist information leaflet. It turned out that the writers of the leaflet felt that it did. She flicked through it briefly, it wasn't exactly long, and realised that it would be useful as a reference for the places she would ask around about Ben.
Her stomach was reminding her that she was hungry and she decided to start with the cafe that had been mentioned in the leaflet.
She emerged into the market square. It was just as you would expect an English country village to look. Everything was laid out off the square; the centre had a small green area of grass, almost surprisingly no duck pond Sarah noticed. There was a butchers – Sarah couldn't remember the last time she had been in a butchers – a small bakery and the café, or more correctly tea shop.
One large building had clearly once been the post office, and was now a private house. The new owners had thoughtfully left a few remnants including the old post box. Clutching her flimsy guide she entered the tea shop.
She felt immediately as if she had been transported back to the nineteen fifties, or what she imagined it would be like then. There was an explosion of white frills and she suddenly felt horribly under dressed.
The waitress smiled and said 'Window seat alright?' and ushered her towards the seat.
'Thank you,’ said Sarah as she settled herself in. She had a wonderful vantage point to view the comings and goings of the village.
'Ready then? What will it be?'
Sarah placed her order, and the waitress wandered away.
As she looked out of the window she began to discern patterns in people's behaviour. People would start at the bakers, emerging with bundles of bread, head next to the butcher then emerge and go lastly to what looked like a small newsagent. A few would go to the former post office, disappearing behind the door that was opened for them.
Sarah's breakfast arrived accompanied by a pot of tea. As she ate she kept an eye on the village’s movements.
Villager number six entered the old post office. She hadn’t seen anyone actually leave yet.
This was beginning to seem a little strange to Sarah. But maybe she was reading too much into things. She decided that she would gently ask the waitress about the old post office when she returned. It would give her a nice lead in to what she really wanted to ask her about. Moments later the waitress duly arrived.
'Everything alright for you?’ she said pleasantly.
'Yes, delicious, as you can see.' Sarah indicated towards the plate which was completely empty. The waitress leaned forward and started to clear the plate away. Sarah adopted the most relaxed voice she could and said 'I'm new to the area and I was just looking around and wondered who owned the old post office?' she quickly added to make it look less suspicious, 'it's a nice building isn't it.'
The waitress stopped clearing the table. 'Yes it is nice. We were all sad that it was sold of course. But that's progress for you I suppose.'
Sarah wondered if she should remind her of the first part of the question. Thankfully after a short pause, she continued.
'It was bought by Mr and Mrs Chambers. They came here a few years ago on business and got to like the place. So when it was closed down as a post office they bought it up.'
'It seems very popular,' said Sarah gently.
'Oh yes, they are a popular couple around the village. They are involved in a lot of organisations, events, that type of thing.'
Sarah nodded. 'What did they do before they came to the village?'
Sarah noticed a slight, almost imperceptible change in the waitresses demeanour.
'They were some sort of scientists I think.' The waitress seemed to have started to clear the table a little more quickly. Sarah realised that she could leave at any minute and she wouldn't get to ask her any more questions. She picked up the menu as if she was about to select something else from it. The waitress paused, as she had to.
'Did they work close by and that's why they bought the post office?'
The waitress still hadn't fully recovered her composure and answered too quickly thought Sarah. 'Not very close I don't think, no In fact it was quite a way away if I remember rightly.'
Sarah nodded and said 'I'll have another pot of tea if that is okay.'
The waitress leant across to take the last knife away. Sarah took her chance as the waitresses face was only eighteen inches away from her own. 'One last thing, I had a friend who said he would be staying around here. About six feet tall, dark hair, not particularly well dressed. I wondered if you might have seen him around? I know he liked his cakes, so I'm sure he would have ventured in here at some point.'
'Can't say I remember anyone of that description. Mind you, I don't work here every day. Will that be all now?' she replied.
Sarah realised that she couldn't push any further, if she wasn’t careful she would get a reputation around the village, and everybody would clam up. She suspected in a village this size there were already things being whispered about her.
'No that's fine,' said Sarah pleasantly, 'and the food was delicious' she added.
The waitress was now back to being the person she had been before.
'Glad you liked it,' she said. Sarah took a sip of her tea and resumed her viewing of the village.
Everything continued as before, people emerging from the various shops, stopping briefly to gather together to discuss something, probably the weather, and then resuming their journeys.
Time seemed to pass pleasantly here, there didn't seem to be any real rushing about. She found herself adjusting to the pace, she even seemed to be drinking her tea more slowly than normal. Usually she would bolt down her tea, in preparation for her next task. By the time she had finished she realised that an hour had passed by.
She tried to put herself in the mind of Ben. If he was here, and despite herself she was beginning to question that, where would he go and what would he do? She pulled out her brief guide to the village. The tea room had been duly ticked off. She remembered he had a liking for takeaway food, but as she looked around the village square there was a distinct lack of pizza and fish and chip shops.
Her eye alighted on an advert in the pamphlet. She smiled to herself. She had at least found somewhere that she knew he would have gone to.
She looked up at the clock, it was now half past ten, she would have to amuse herself for half an hour. She picked up the bill, and left money including a generous tip, she felt the waitress had earned it, and left the cafe.
Outside it had turned into a beautiful day. The sky was mainly blue, with just a few clouds to spoil it. She walked across the square and threaded her way through the mixture of cottages until she had reached the river bank. The river was small and politely meandered its way around the village, so as not to be too much of a bother. In the distance Sarah could see the hills and forests stretching out in front of her. If this was where Ben had been, then he had chosen a good place for his cover story of writing a book about the walks available. The forests looked impenetrable from where she was standing, but she presumed that there must be some form of trails up there. She wondered if she would have time to at least attempt some of the walks.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the village church clock. Almost reluctantly she turned away from the view and headed back towards the village. The pub was located slightly off the village square and Sarah could see that they were just in the process of opening. The main door was only half open and was occupied by the landlord. Sarah approached the pub door.
'Beautiful morning,' said the landlord cheerily.
The landlord moved aside to let her in and Sarah was now committed to being presumably the first person going into the pub as soon as it opened. If a reputation was being compiled for her in the village, she suspected this might figure highly.
Not surprisingly as she entered she was indeed the first person there. She was also not surprised that it looked exactly as she had hoped. Simple furniture, and not a machine in sight.
Sarah had never been in a pub this early in the morning, not even as a student. She knew that Ben had the reputation for pretty much knocking on the pub doors to get in early in the morning. But that was the Ben from the student days, he was probably more sober nowadays.
Now suitably installed behind the bar the landlord asked 'What can I get you?'
Sarah decided a soft drink would be the sensible option.
'Just a coke please,' said Sarah.
The landlord started to pour her drink. 'How are you settling in at the guest house?' he said.
Sarah clearly looked surprised he knew where she was staying. He smiled and said 'Small village.'
Sarah nodded and said 'It's all very nice.'
'What brings you to our village then?' he said pleasantly.
'Just getting away from the city you know.'
He nodded, it was obviously not the only time he had heard this reason.
Sarah took a sip of her drink and casually said 'And I had a friend who said he was staying here.'
The landlord continued to fuss around the bar, though as far as Sarah could see it was all perfectly arranged. She had hoped that he would say something, but he just let her comment hang in the air.
'I was wondering if you had seen him around?' she said in as relaxed a tone as she could manage.
The landlord looked up from his duties and said 'What was he like, your friend?'
Sarah then reeled off what was becoming her well rehearsed description of Ben.
Surely this would be the moment when he would roll back his head and say 'Oh yes, he has been in here most nights, and days. Quite a character.'
But instead he thought for a moment and said 'Doesn't ring a bell. I'm in here every day as well and as I say it's a small village.'
Sarah felt her heart sink. Firstly with disappointment and secondly with the stark realisation that Ben had lied to her. Why would he do that?
She managed to reply 'Oh well, never mind, must have the wrong village.'
'I expect so. The next village is only a few miles away, maybe he meant that one. The names are similar enough. If you're not from round here anyway.'
Sarah nodded, picked up her drink and headed to one of the many available tables.
She slumped down into the chair. She now felt like a fool. She was sat in a pub in a strange village and there was no reason for her to be here! She could feel the resentment towards Ben rising in her. Was anything he had ever said true? She took a gulp of her coke and wished it was now something stronger. She began reassessing everything Ben had said.
It suddenly dawned on her that she had been used. How she had been so foolish? He had used her to get information and she remembered with horror that she had let him see the children’s journals! She wondered how long it would be before their cont
ents appeared in print. Perhaps they already were. She had the urge to rush out to the newsagent and look. She could be sitting here whilst her career was being ended. She tried to imagine the lurid headlines, the way they would misinterpret the treatments she had tried with the children.
She let out a loud groan.
And of course she was here in this village with little way to communicate with the outside world. How convenient! She couldn't even defend herself until it was too late. She had to get out of here.
She stood up abruptly, grabbed her bag and set off out of the pub.
'Thanks for coming,' said the landlord.
Sarah was too angry to reply.
Her previous casual, relaxed walk to get to the pub was now replaced by what was almost a run as she left the pub. She didn't bother to make any eye contact with anyone and within a few minutes she was violently opening the door to her room. She had the urge to just throw herself on the bed and scream. But she wasn't that sort of person. She channelled her anger into packing her few things together ready for a sudden exit. She stuffed her things into the bag and forced the reluctant zip shut. She had never felt so let down.
And then she stopped herself.
In her rage she had forgotten why she was here.
Yes to meet Ben. But before she had even met Ben, her only concern had been the children. And before Ben she was trying to help them. Just because she was now on her own, was she really going to abandon the children?
She slumped onto the bed. She couldn't believe how she had been so keen to just run away because it had suddenly got tougher for her.
She was now more angry at herself than at Ben.
Sarah picked up the bag and began to unpack. She would just have to confront the village on her own, without Ben.
She couldn't just sit around doing nothing. If the villagers were being secretive it stood to reason that they had something to hide. But if they hadn't been lying about Ben, because he had never been here, were they really being so secretive?
