Don't Look Back

by Ben Cheetham

  “I’ll go on by myself. You wait here in case Henry comes back.”

  She drew a steadying breath. “No. We’ll cover more ground if we split up.”

  “Then you head towards the village,” suggested Adam. There was only a few hundred metres of cliff top path for Ella to negotiate in that direction.

  “He can’t have gone far without his shoes and coat on.” It was a statement that sounded more like a question. Ella’s wide brown eyes looked to Adam for reassurance.

  Trying his best to sound as if he believed it, he replied, “He’ll be fine.” He felt a strong reluctance to let go of Ella’s hand. “Be careful.”

  She managed a small smile. “You too.”

  Ella edged away, her arms outstretched like a blind person feeling for obstacles. Adam watched the fog envelop her before he set off more quickly in the opposite direction. On and on he advanced through the dreamlike whiteness, encountering no one, pausing every so often to futilely peer around and call for Henry. The nearer he drew to Lizard Point, the louder the eerie voice of the foghorn became. He too started to feel dizzy. Not with fear, but with tiredness. He hadn’t slept in over twenty-four-hours. He stumbled several times and almost lost his footing. The fog distorted his sense of distance, but upon reaching the lifeboat station he knew he’d come roughly two miles. Fingers of cold air penetrated his jacket. He thought of Henry barefooted and in only his pyjamas. Surely he wouldn’t have made it this far.

  He turned back the way he’d come. His body seemed to grow heavier with every step. By the time he arrived at Fenton House, he felt dead on his feet. Entering by the backdoor, he called for Ella and got no reply. He’d been searching for almost two hours. Surely she should be back by now? But then again, she could have carried on past the village. He nodded to himself. That’s what she’d do. And at the speed she’d been going, it would take her a lot longer to cover anything like the same amount of ground as he had done. It made him nervous to think about her teetering along the fog-bound path. One misstep and she might follow Faith off the cliffs. He looked at the grandfather clock. He’d give it ten minutes to get his legs back, then he’d go in search of both her and Henry.

  He slumped onto the sofa. God, he was so tired. His eyelids felt as if dumbbells were dragging them down. Yawning, he rested his head against a cushion. Sleep pulled at his weary limbs. He tried to shrug it off, but its grip was too strong. A sound pierced his weariness – footsteps. His eyelids parted. Ella was standing in the doorway. She had her back to him. He sat up, blinking the blur of sleep from his vision.

  “Ella.”

  She showed no sign of having heard. He noticed something strange – her hair was wet. It clung to her, smooth and glistening. So did her knee-length summer dress. Her skin was visible through the white cotton.

  “Ella,” he said again. “Did you find him?”

  She moved silently into the hallway. Adam’s eyebrows knotted. What was the matter with her? Why didn’t she answer? He rose and went into the hallway. There was no one there. He looked in the kitchen. Empty. His heart speeding up with each step, he stuck his head into the orangery and dining room. No Ella. His gaze moved to The Lewarne Room. Its door was ajar. He took several hesitant steps towards it.

  “Dad.”

  Adam jerked around at the sound of his son’s voice. Henry was standing by the front door, arms hugged across his pyjama top, teeth chattering uncontrollably.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Adam’s tone seesawed between anger and concern.

  “I was in the treehouse.”

  “You’re in big trouble. How could you have hit your mum?”

  “I’m really sorry, Dad.” Tears trembled in Henry’s big brown eyes. “I just can’t stand the thought of going back to that house.”

  Adam sighed. He knew exactly how Henry felt. An image flashed through his mind of Jacob sprawled out in a puddle of blood on the porch floor. The thought of seeing that place again was like a hand twisting at his insides. Putting an arm around Henry, he ushered him into the warmth of the kitchen.

  As Adam put fresh wood into the Rayburn, he asked, “Did you see your mum leaving the house just now?”

  “No.”

  “Stay here. I’m going to look for her.”

  “Will you tell her how sorry I am?”

  “You can tell her yourself.”

  Adam hastened from the kitchen. He looked in The Lewarne Room. It was empty. His eyes lingered on the secret panel. She wouldn’t have gone into the passageways, would she? He shook his head. More likely she’d gone back out in search of Henry. He hurried to the garden.

  “Ella! I’ve found Henry!”

  Silence was his only reply. He made his way down to the cliffs again. As fast as he dared, he headed along the coastal path towards Treworder. He couldn’t see Satan’s Saucepan, but he could feel its huge, empty presence. A clamminess that had nothing to do with the fog swept over him as he neared the spot where Faith had plummeted from the cliffs. He pulled up abruptly as his right foot met with thin air. His hands darted out, desperately seeking something to stop him from overbalancing. He winced as his fingers closed around a spiky gorse branch. He steadied himself, then crouched down to inspect the path. His stomach gave a lurch. A section of the path was missing. A small landslip of earth and pebbles trailed down the cliff. The gap it had left behind was only an arm’s length across, but that was enough for someone to fall through. A wooden handrail had been erected to protect walkers at the spot. The rail was broken at its centre and hung down in a V.

  “No, no, no…” gasped Adam, dropping on to his belly to get a better look through the gap. There was nothing to see but a shifting white wall. “Ella!” he shouted, almost hoarse with fear. “Ella! Ella!”

  Nothing. Not a sound besides his own rapid breathing and the hiss of the sea.

  He shook his head, murmuring, “This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.” The pain where the gorse spines had pierced his palm suggested otherwise.

  Sobs shook his body. Oh god, first Jacob, now Ella. It was too much to bear. He gave another shake of his head. You don’t know she’s down there. And even if she is, she could still be alive.

  “Ella, if you can hear me, hold on,” he called into the void. “I’m going for help.”

  Heedless of the danger now, Adam ran along the path. He stumbled to his knees and scrambled upright, then he was in the garden and the house was gradually taking shape, its outline shifting like a living thing in the fog. He burst into the entrance hall, snatched up the phone, dialled 999 and breathlessly told the operator what had happened.

  “Dad, what’s going on?” asked a tremulous voice from behind him.

  Adam turned to Henry. Rage surged up his throat at the sight of his son’s butter-wouldn’t-melt face.

  “What are you looking at me like that for?” Henry asked nervously.

  First Jacob, now Ella. Two events separated by hundreds of miles, but connected by one common factor. Adam took a step towards Henry, his whole body quivering with barely contained fury.

  Henry retreated towards the stairs. “You’re scaring me.”

  “It’s your fault.” Adam’s words came in a raw hiss. “It’s all your fault.”

  They held each other’s gaze for a breathless moment, then Henry turned and fled up the stairs. Adam gave chase. Henry sprinted along the landing to his bedroom and thrust the door shut. There was the click of a key turning in the lock. Adam hammered on the door, shouting, “Open this door you little bastard!”

  “No,” Henry yelled back. “Stop it! Go away!”

  But Adam couldn’t stop. He pounded on the door hard enough to make the walls tremble and the skin peel off his knuckles. Henry screamed and cried. Still, Adam didn’t stop. It felt like all the emotion that had been pent up over the past ten months was exploding from him. He continued until sweat was running down his face and his lungs burned for oxygen. Finally, he collapsed to his knees, head in hands, sobbing.

&
nbsp; Chapter 27

  Adam stayed on his knees until he heard approaching sirens. Sucking the blood from his knuckles, he rose and went down to the front door. Flashing lights penetrated the fog. A trio of police cars and a Coastguard ‘Search & Rescue’ Landrover materialised. Detective Sergeant Penny Holman got out of the lead car.

  “I think Ella’s fallen into Satan’s Saucepan,” Adam told her.

  “You think?”

  “I didn’t see it happen, but part of the path has… has… Oh Christ…” Adam hauled in a ragged breath, fighting to keep from breaking down.

  Penny relayed instructions to her colleagues. Two constables moved off towards the cliffs. The coastguards set about kitting themselves out with harnesses, ropes, slings and other climbing gear.

  “Let’s go inside,” said Penny, motioning for the remaining constables to accompany her and Adam into the entrance hall. “Now just try to stay calm, Mr Piper, and tell me exactly what happened.”

  “Ella was searching for Henry. He ran off when we told him we’re moving back to London.”

  The sergeant’s eyebrow lifted. “You’re moving out of Fenton House?”

  “Yes... No... I err...” stammered Adam. Were they still moving out?

  “Where’s your son?”

  “He’s in his–”

  Adam fell silent as Henry appeared at the top of the stairs. Henry’s eyes were puffy from crying. He descended the stairs, refusing to meet Adam’s gaze.

  Penny gave Henry an up and down look as if searching for signs of injury. “Your dad tells me you ran off.”

  “I was hiding because I don’t want to go back to London.”

  “Did you see your mum go down to the cliffs?”

  “Is my mum dead?” Henry asked with the glassy, blank stare of someone in shock.

  “We don’t know. We’ll do our best to find her. I need you to be really strong, Henry. Can you do that for me?”

  He nodded.

  “Good boy. Let’s sit down and see if we can get to the bottom of all this.”

  They went into the sitting room. Adam and Henry sat side by side on the sofa. Adam instinctively went to put an arm around his son’s shoulders, but Henry shifted away from him. Sergeant Holman seated herself in an armchair.

  “I’m not sure what else we can tell you,” said Adam. “I was asleep on the sofa when I was woken by... Ella.”

  Picking up on Adam’s hesitancy, Penny said, “You don’t sound entirely sure that it was Ella.”

  “No, no, it was her. It’s just that I didn’t see her face.” Adam pointed to the doorway. “She was over there. She went into the hallway. I went after her, but she’d gone back outside. Then Henry showed up.”

  Penny made a rewind motion. “Let’s go back to earlier this morning. What happened before the argument?

  “I’d been into Treworder to speak to Doug Blackwood. He’s a parapsychologist writing a book about Fenton House. I wanted to ask him whether he thought it was safe for us to stay here.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He advised us to leave and I decided to take his advice.”

  “So you believe this house is haunted?”

  “I…” Adam faded off, thinking about Ella’s wet hair and dress. She’d looked as if she’d just been for a swim fully clothed.

  “After speaking to Mr Blackwood did you come straight back here?”

  “No. I stopped by Boscarne Cottage to tell Miss Trehearne that we were leaving.”

  “At roughly what time was this?”

  “About eight o’clock. I was only there for ten minutes. Then I came back here. Ella and I argued with Henry and he ran off.” Adam left out the part where Henry hit Ella. He didn’t want the police getting any funny ideas about what might have happened. Funny ideas? piped up a sardonic voice in his head. You mean like you thinking Henry is somehow responsible for the deaths of his brother and mum? He dropped his gaze away from Penny as if fearing she might read his thoughts.

  “How did you hurt your hands?” she asked, pointing to Adam’s skinned knuckles.

  “I…” Adam stumbled ashamedly over his reply. “I hit a door after losing my temper with Henry.”

  Penny looked at Henry. “Is that what happened?”

  He nodded.

  “Can you show me your hands, Henry?”

  “What for?” asked Adam.

  Without replying, Penny rose and moved to inspect Henry’s outstretched hands. She nodded as if they confirmed something she’d expected to find. “There’s blood under your fingernails, Henry. Can you tell me how it got there?”

  “He scratched his mum’s face when she tried to stop him from running away,” said Adam.

  “Please let Henry answer for himself,” said Penny. She looked intently at Henry. “Did you scratch your mum?”

  He gave another nod.

  Penny’s gaze moved to Adam, then back to the silent boy. “Would you prefer to talk to me alone, Henry?”

  Adam shot her a frown. “Why would he want to talk to you alone?”

  “Please, Mr Piper, I’m just trying to work out what’s going on here.”

  “I’ve told you what’s going on,” snapped Adam. “Were not hiding anything from you.”

  “I never said you were. I’m just wondering why your son’s so scared.”

  Another jolt of shame went through Adam as he looked at Henry and saw that Penny was right. Henry’s head was sunk down between his shoulders. His hands were clasped white-knuckled on his lap. There was a tremor to his bottom lip. Adam’s gaze returned to the policewoman. “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but I’ve told you everything there is to tell.”

  “I’d like your permission to take fingernail scrapings from Henry.”

  “No chance.”

  “I can get a court order. It’ll take longer, but the end result will be the same. This way we’ll be out of your hair that much quicker.”

  Adam heaved a sigh. His head was pounding. The sergeant’s questions were like fingernails being raked down a chalkboard. And after all, what harm was there in the police taking scrapings? “OK.”

  Penny fetched a Forensic officer. Henry let out a low whimper at the sight of the pointed plastic fingernail scraper. “There’s nothing to worry about, Henry. It’s completely painless,” Penny assured him.

  Henry held still as the scrapings were taken and sealed in envelopes.

  “Well done, Henry,” said Penny. “One last thing, I need you to show me where the argument took place.”

  They went upstairs. There were thin smears of blood on Henry’s bedroom door. Adam spread his hands as if to say, See. The Forensic officer remained upstairs while Adam, Henry and Penny returned to the sitting room.

  “I assume you’re going to hang around here until we find your wife?” Penny said to Adam.

  As he nodded, the thought went through his head, What if Ella’s been swept out to sea? What if her body is never found?

  Penny left the room again. Adam turned to Henry with contrite eyes. “I’m sorry, Henry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that or said what I did. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t make us come to this house. I did. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

  Warily, Henry looked at his dad from under his eyelashes. “Is that what you really think?”

  Now it was Adam’s turn to look away. “Yes.”

  “Liar,” muttered Henry.

  They sat in heavy silence, listening to police moving about the house. Penny poked her head back into the room and beckoned Adam into the hallway. “The coastguards have reached the base of the cliff, but they haven’t found anything yet,” she informed him.

  The words held both hope and fear. Either Ella hadn’t fallen after all or she was somewhere at the bottom of the English Channel.

  “I didn’t want to ask you this in front of Henry,” said Penny. “But is there any possibility that Ella could have decided to leave Treworder without you?”

&nb
sp; “You suggesting she might have walked out on us?”

  “It happens.”

  Adam shook his head hard. “Ella wouldn’t do that.”

  “What about her mental health? Has she ever shown suicidal–”

  “No,” broke in Adam, his voice cracking again. He couldn’t bear any more questions. He jerked around and headed for the sofa.

  Henry was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, staring blankly at the floor. He looked as if all the expression had been slapped from his face. Adam wanted to put his arms around him and hold him tight, but he couldn’t bring himself to. First Jacob, now Ella. The thought was like acid burning its way to the centre of his brain.

  After what felt like hours, Penny came into the room again. “We’re all done here for now,” she said. “Are you sure you want to be alone?” The question was directed at Henry. “I can leave a constable behind if you like.”

  His voice tightly controlled, Adam said, “We’ll be…” He trailed off. He’d been about to say fine, but he realised that was about as far from the truth as east was from west.

  “One last thing, Mr Piper. Could you write down the names and contact numbers of Ella’s parents and any siblings and friends?”

  Adam winced as he thought about Ella’s parents. Sooner or later he would have to speak to Richard and Linda. But not now. He couldn’t face that now.

  “Someone will be in touch as soon as there are any developments,” Penny said as Adam handed her the list of names. “And, of course, you’ll let us know if Ella shows up.”

  Adam nodded.

  Penny gave Henry a lingering look as if waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, she turned to head for the front door.

  Chapter 28

  As the police vehicles disappeared into the fog, Adam closed the front door and returned to the sitting room. Henry was gone. Hearing footfalls on the landing, Adam went upstairs. He caught a whiff of Ella’s perfume. It drew him to her dressing gown hanging on the back of their bedroom door. He clutched it to his face, filling his lungs with her sweet, musky scent. The material muffled his agonised moans. Oh Christ, there was nothing he wouldn’t have given not only to smell her, but to touch her and hold her. Reluctantly releasing the dressing gown, he continued along the landing.