by Molly Green
The three girls were in full voice when Sally and Angela emerged from the hatch. Sally joined in immediately, but Angela barely acknowledged everyone except for a slight nod.
‘Not sure where you’re all going to sit,’ Jessica said. ‘I suppose three of you could get on our bed if we pull it down. I’ll squash on the seat with someone.’
Ronnie was pleased she knew the words to some of the songs May played, but she knew herself she had no voice.
‘If my sister Suzy was here she’d show you,’ Ronnie said. ‘She’s a professional singer. She’s sung abroad in—’ She stopped herself just in time. Everyone was looking towards her expectantly. ‘Mum’s the word,’ she said with a self-conscious giggle. ‘I’m not allowed to say. She’s home now and singing to the troops over here. You’d love her voice. They say it’s like Judy Garland’s.’
Ronnie stole a glance at Angela who was rolling her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. You could never make Angela happy no matter how hard you tried. Then something mischievous made her say, ‘Did you enjoy that, Angela?’
Angela puffed out a sigh. ‘All right, if you like that kind of thing. I prefer classical myself.’
‘That’s what Suzy plays when she’s not singing,’ Ronnie said proudly. ‘She can play the violin and the piano.’
‘Good for her,’ was all Angela said in a tone which meant the exact opposite. She rose up, yawning. ‘I’ll be going now.’ She glanced at Sally. ‘Are you ready?’
‘No,’ Sally said. ‘I’ll stay a little longer. You carry on.’
Angela pursed her lips. ‘All right.’
‘Get her,’ Jessica said when Angela had disappeared. ‘She really is a madam. Why can’t she be gracious for a change?’
‘She doesn’t know the meaning of the word,’ Sally said. ‘She’s an awkward cow. But she’s pretty good on handling the motorboat – certainly better than us.’
‘That’s the last one,’ May said, putting her instrument to one side. ‘I’m getting tired.’
‘Me, too,’ Sally said, standing up. ‘I just hope Angela’s in a bit better mood.’
They were still discussing Angela when there was a sharp bang on the side of the butty.
‘Who is it?’ Jessica called.
‘Me. Open up!’ Angela demanded.
‘Now what does she want?’ Jessica grumbled as Ronnie went to open the hatch.
Angela jumped down and handed her a folded sheet of paper. ‘Read this,’ she said.
Ronnie took the sheet and unfolded it. Her eyes flicked down the page and her jaw dropped in disbelief.
‘Who’s it from?’ Jessica asked impatiently.
‘It’s from Margaret,’ Ronnie said, glancing at Angela, who simply shrugged.
‘Read it out then,’ Jessica ordered.
Ronnie cleared her throat.
‘Dear Miss Dummitt,
I realise I am not suited to this kind of work and have decided it is best to give in my notice now rather than let it drag on. I have enjoyed the company of the other girls and please thank Ronnie especially for her kindness today.
I would like to go first thing in the morning. I know I am doing the right thing but apologise for any inconvenience I have caused.
Yours sincerely,
Margaret Webb.’
Ronnie looked up. ‘She never mentioned anything like this earlier when we went through the tunnel and there was just the two of us. I’d have thought she would’ve said something then. If she had I would’ve tried to talk her out of it. None of us feels that confident yet after such a short time.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ Angela put in, but Ronnie glared at her so hard Angela didn’t continue.
‘Well, well.’ May shook her head. ‘So she made up her mind this evening when we were having our singsong.’
‘Looks like it,’ Angela said. ‘But she’s not in the cabin.’
‘Hang on, Angela,’ Jessica said picking up the envelope. ‘It’s addressed to Miss D. Dummitt.’
‘Let me finish,’ Angela said in a rude tone. ‘Margaret wasn’t there. Then I saw the envelope addressed to Miss Dummitt, so I thought I might as well walk over to the pub and give it to her.’
‘Didn’t you wonder where Margaret was?’ Jessica said.
‘I thought she’d gone to the pub to see Miss Dummitt to discuss something in private. I knew she wasn’t taking to the canal life.’
‘How did you know?’ Jessica demanded.
‘I live with her. It’s the odd remark she drops.’
‘But why wouldn’t she have given Dora the letter herself?’ Ronnie said, frowning.
‘I didn’t know what the contents were at that point,’ Angela said. ‘I didn’t even know it was Margaret’s writing. To me it was just a letter that needed to be delivered.’ She paused. ‘Anyway, when I got there Miss Dummitt asked me to open it and read it out. She can’t read, can she?’ Angela finished on a contemptuous note.
‘Why did Dora let you keep the letter?’ Jessica demanded.
‘She didn’t. I must have put it in my bag by mistake.’
‘So what did Dora say?’ Ronnie asked, ignoring Angela’s last remark that didn’t ring quite true.
‘She wanted to know why Margaret hadn’t got the guts to tell her herself, instead of writing, but said she wasn’t surprised. And it was for the best because she’d already decided to get rid of her.’
‘She actually said that?’ Sally stared at her.
‘Well, words to that effect,’ Angela said. ‘Anyway, at that point I didn’t know how long Margaret had been gone. It might only have been a few minutes, as far as I knew. So I didn’t make anything of it. But now I’ve been back three-quarters of an hour and there’s still no sign of her. I thought I ought to tell you all.’
‘Something’s not right,’ Ronnie said. ‘Why did she go out at this time of the evening in the first place? It’s freezing outside.’
‘You know, I don’t like the sound of it.’ Jessica’s voice had become serious. ‘She disappears when we were all out of the way for a couple of hours and leaves a note to say she’s going home tomorrow. So where’s she gone? It doesn’t make sense. In fact I think something really bad has happened to her.’
‘What do you mean?’ Ronnie said, her heart thumping uncomfortably.
Jessica looked directly at her. ‘I mean she might have had an accident.’ She paused. ‘Can she swim?’
‘I’m sure she can.’ Sally looked at Ronnie and May. ‘Like Dora said, you’re not allowed to join if you can’t swim. Unless she lied to Dora.’
Ronnie gasped. ‘Oh, no, she wouldn’t have.’
‘It’s perfectly possible. We may have to call the police.’ Jessica glanced at the others. ‘I think one of us has to go and tell Dora right away that she’s been gone at least an hour – maybe more. It’d better be me.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Ronnie said quickly.
‘Anyone got the time?’ Jessica said.
May glanced at her watch. ‘Twenty-five past nine.’
‘You, Sally and Angela stay here until we get back,’ Jessica ordered. ‘Don’t get undressed. We may all be needed to help search for her.’
Ronnie and Jessica were silent as they walked towards the pub Dora was staying at. Once, when they were only two hundred yards away, Jessica tripped and swore, but Ronnie shot her arm out and the older girl managed to keep her balance.
‘Thanks, Ronnie.’ She paused. ‘Look! Isn’t that Dora coming out of the pub?’
The moon’s light picked out the short sturdy figure, head lowered as she hurried towards them.
‘You’re right. Thank goodness. I was dreading going in.’
They waited for Dora to get nearer.
‘Don’t tell me you two are goin’ ter have a drink? Yer shoulda come earlier and joined the party—’
‘Angela showed us the letter Margaret wrote,’ Ronnie cut in before Dora could go on any longer. ‘When Angela left yo
u and went back to the motorboat she said Margaret still wasn’t back.’
Dora’s unkempt brows drew together. ‘D’yer have any idea where she is?’
‘None,’ Ronnie said.
‘Has she taken anythin’ with her?’
‘Angela didn’t say,’ Jessica answered.
Dora stood stock-still. ‘Are yer sayin’ what I think yer sayin’?’
‘I think she may have had an accident,’ Jessica said. ‘She’s been gone ages. Even if you fancied a walk in this freezing wind, you wouldn’t normally want to be out for long, would you?’
Dora was silent for a few seconds. ‘We need ter get back straightaway.’ She spat on the ground. ‘Damn tobacco. Not fit to be sold.’ She looked at Ronnie. ‘You go into the pub, miss, and call the canal police, and me and Jess’ll go back ter the boats and decide what’s best ter do.’
When Ronnie explained to the grinning man behind the bar that they’d lost one of the boat trainees his grin faded, and he nodded towards the telephone hanging from a wall.
‘Oh, yes, operator, would you get me the Grand Union Canal police?’ She cupped her hand round her ear to hear above the cacophony. ‘Thank you.’
There was a minute’s pause. Ronnie could feel her heart thumping.
Please hurry.
‘Could you say your name and your location, please?’
She knew that voice. Efficient, but with an undertone of concern. Oh, thank goodness. He would treat it urgently.
‘It’s Ronnie Linfoot,’ she managed.
‘Miss Linfoot – Ronnie. It’s Michael Scott here. Where are you?’
She couldn’t remember what the pub sign said. Taking her mouth away from the receiver she spoke to the barman, who was watching her curiously.
‘What’s the name of this pub?’
‘The White Hart,’ the barman answered. ‘Gayton Junction. They’ll know it.’
She repeated it to Constable Scott.
‘What is the problem?’
‘We-we don’t know exactly … One of our trainees is missing. She left a note to say the work didn’t agree with her and she was going home in the morning and sorry to inconvenience us. Nothing more.’
‘Her name?’
‘Margaret Webb.’
‘Do you know where she lives?’
‘I don’t know, but Dora will.’
‘How long is it since she was last seen?’
‘Um, probably’ – Ronnie glanced at her watch, trying to work it out – ‘roughly two hours ago.’
‘What does Margaret look like?’
Ronnie frowned. ‘About my height, thin, with long light brown hair she mostly wears in plaits—’ She broke off, tears pricking the back of her eyes. Something bad had happened to Margaret. ‘Oh, please can you come right away?’
‘I’ll get someone over immediately. Presumably you’re moored close by.’
‘Yes,’ she said, for some reason disappointed it wouldn’t be him coming.
‘Go back to the boat. We don’t want to be looking for two of you. I promise it won’t be long.’
‘Thank you.’ Ronnie set the receiver in its holder. She remembered how Margaret got herself into such a panic in the tunnel. She always seemed nervous and Dora didn’t help by the way she pounced on any of the trainees’ weaknesses.
Ronnie dreaded walking back to the boats on her own. Not because she was scared someone undesirable would step from the shadows and attack her, but because she was terrified to come across Margaret’s body. And when the towpath followed the canal for a hundred yards or so to the pair of boats, she had to turn her head away, so strong was the image of Margaret floating on her back in the cold black oily water.
Maybe she’s already returned, Ronnie thought. Wondering what the fuss is all about.
But when she dropped through the hatch of the motor where everyone had crammed in, Dora simply grimaced.
‘Did yer get hold of the police?’ she said, her voice quieter and more sombre than usual.
‘Yes,’ Ronnie answered. She wouldn’t tell Dora she’d spoken to the same constable who came yesterday with the sergeant to look for any black-market items. ‘Someone’s coming right away.’
Dora nodded. ‘Good. There’s not much we can do ’til they get here.’ She glanced at Sally. ‘Yer nearest the stove, miss. Put the kettle on and we’ll have a cuppa. And don’t start worryin’ ’til we know somethin’ definite.’
The bang on the side of the motor was so sudden and loud that it startled Ronnie. Her tea splashed from the mug onto the foldaway table.
‘Police!’
Ronnie scrambled round the others to open the hatch to look into the warm hazel eyes of Constable Scott.
‘I thought you—’ she started.
‘I thought it best for me to come, seeing as I’ve met you all,’ he said, stepping onto the floor. ‘Now you’re all together I remember Margaret. Little waif of a thing.’ He asked a few routine questions and scribbled down the answers.
‘Have you the letter she wrote?’ he asked, looking up.
Slightly flushed, Angela handed him the piece of paper. He quickly read it.
‘Let’s see,’ he said. ‘Margaret wrote this letter to Miss Dummitt who at the time was in the White Hart. As Margaret wasn’t in the cabin Angela went to the pub and gave it to Miss Dummitt.’ He paused. ‘Is that right?’
‘That’s right, Constable,’ Dora said.
‘I didn’t know how long Margaret had been gone,’ Angela said eagerly. ‘So I told the others and then Ronnie phoned the police.’
Michael Scott nodded. ‘I’ve arranged a search party,’ he said, ‘so they’ll be here in a few minutes. Meanwhile, you must all keep calm.’
‘I’d like to help search for her,’ Ronnie said immediately.
‘No, not tonight,’ Constable Scott said. ‘If we don’t have any luck we may need all of you in the morning.’
‘You don’t think—’ May started, but the constable put up his hand.
‘I don’t think anything at the moment,’ he said. ‘Anything’s possible, but I can assure you we’ll find her.’ He cocked his head at the sound of footsteps. ‘Ah, that sounds like someone.’
Not letting anyone see, Ronnie crossed her fingers tightly, praying it was Margaret. But a minute later they heard male voices.
‘I’d better go.’ Constable Scott rose to his feet. He glanced at Dora. ‘Obviously, I’ll let you know when we have some news. I’ll phone the pub if I can’t get here myself. Someone from there will come and tell you.’
‘Thank you,’ Dora said. ‘We’re not goin’ nowhere.’
Constable Scott’s eyes lingered on Ronnie. ‘Thank you for reporting this,’ he said. ‘I’ll do my best to keep you in the picture.’ With that he was gone.
‘You three best get ter the butty,’ Dora said. ‘We can’t do nothin’ more here ’less we hear otherwise.’
‘What do you think, then?’ May said, when the three of them were back in Penelope. ‘She could just be enjoying a bit of peace on her own. Angela can be quite hard to take at the best of times.’
‘I don’t think it’s that,’ Ronnie said. ‘It’s ages now since Angela saw her. And I’m going to help look for her.’
‘You’ll do nothing of the kind,’ Jessica said. ‘I’m the eldest and what I say goes if Dora’s not around.’
‘Sorry, but I’ve made up my mind.’ Ronnie slipped on her raincoat. She wound a scarf around her neck.
‘Then I’m coming with you,’ May said, taking off her pyjama jacket and pulling on a thick jumper, then a second one, and finally her coat.
‘Oh, very well, then,’ Jessica said firmly. ‘We’ll split up. That’ll give us more chance to find her. And bring torches.’
The three girls gathered on the towpath and moments later Dora and Sally joined them. For once, Dora didn’t even stop to light her pipe.
‘She’s a silly girl goin’ off on her own at this time o’ night,’ she said, popping her
lips as though she were actually pulling on the stem of her pipe. ‘I just hope she in’t fallen in the cut. The cold water wouldn’t take long to kill her.’
Ronnie shuddered. Dora was voicing her worst thoughts.
‘Anyway, we’ll go in pairs,’ Dora said. ‘We don’t want no more worry with another of yous missing.’ She looked at Ronnie. ‘You go with Jess along the cut that way’ – she pointed – ‘and May goes with Sally the opposite way.’
‘What about you, Miss Dummitt?’ Sally said.
‘I know these parts,’ Dora said. ‘I’ll be on my own – away from the cut.’
‘Where’s Angela?’ Jessica demanded.
‘Stayin’ here. Said it were police work.’ Dora’s lip curled. ‘She’s right, in a way, but that attitude don’t help Margaret.’ She popped her lips again. ‘Right, let’s be off. Keep quiet so’s yer can listen fer any noise.’
Ronnie and Jessica set off, Ronnie’s heart thudding in her ears. After some minutes the numbing cold penetrated her raincoat and her two thick jumpers, but she forced herself to ignore it. The air smelt stale along the canal and several times she almost called out in fright when something brushed against her trousers. She shone her torch but as far as she could make out, it was only bits from the overhanging branches, blown by the wind onto the towpath.
‘Listen!’ Jessica hissed. She cocked her ear. ‘Can you hear something?’
Ronnie stood still, hardly daring to breathe. A groaning sound, then a whimper.
‘It sounds like some animal in pain,’ she said, dreading the sight of an injured creature.
‘That’s what I thought,’ Jessica said. ‘Well, we can’t do anything about it.’
‘We can’t leave it to die in agony,’ Ronnie muttered.
‘We’re trying to find Margaret,’ Jessica reminded her. ‘Let’s concentrate on that.’
‘I’m going to have a look,’ Ronnie said. ‘You go on. I’ll catch you up.’
‘No, Dora said we have to stick together. Come on, Ronnie.’ Jessica’s tone was an order.
‘I’ll only be five minutes, I promise.’
Jessica shrugged. ‘Up to you. You’ll be the one to explain to Dora. But mind it’s no more than five minutes.’
Ronnie crept towards the sound, not wanting to frighten the creature. The moaning became louder. It sounded like a large animal. Maybe a dog. She tried to remember how Mr Lincoln dealt with a wounded animal who was terrified. He kept his voice calm and soothing. She called out softly.
