Ariadne clapped her hands to her mouth, horrified. “Someone could have died!”
“Exactly.” My twin had a determined expression on her face now. “We need to look for him, and now –” she tapped the photograph of the tower – “we know where to look. Ariadne – I take back what I said about your pictures. Remind me never to doubt your genius!”
Ariadne beamed, but I was beginning to realise that there was a big flaw in this plan. Sheets of water were pouring down the window, and the thunder rumbled overhead, followed by a blinding flash and a deafening crack. “Scarlet … I don’t see how we can do this. The storm’s showing no signs of stopping! If anything it’s getting worse, and we have to go home tomorrow.”
“Drat!” Scarlet slammed her fist on to the bed. “We’ll tell the teachers, then. Or we’ll tell the Rudges. We have to do something!”
We went back down to the ground floor, armed with our new knowledge and prepared to do something about it. But things suddenly took a turn for the worse.
As we walked into the reception area, Miss Bowler stumbled in through the front door, soaked everywhere that wasn’t covered by the raincoat, and deadly pale. One of the stable girls dashed in behind her.
“Miss!” Scarlet ran over. “Did you find Rose?”
Miss Bowler shook her head, droplets of water flying from her hair as if she were a wet dog. “No sign,” she huffed. “And I lost that Moss woman too. I need to speak to the headmistress.” She pushed past us, while the stable girl ran up to Mr Rudge at the front desk.
“Sir! The lightning struck a tree and it fell down and the bridge is blocked!” She panted.
“What?” Mr Rudge snapped. “Oh, for goodness’ sake …” He dashed away, presumably to look out of the window.
Ariadne looked frantic. “They didn’t find Rose or Phyllis! What if Bob Owens has got to them? Or they’re trapped somewhere?”
I felt her fear. It was definitely not safe out there, Bob Owens or no Bob Owens. The roar of the storm was louder than ever, the wind and rain battering at the windows. And the lightning … “If we can’t cross the bridge …” I said, “we’re trapped here.”
“We need to hear what Miss Bowler has to say,” Scarlet said suddenly, running off along the corridor. I agreed. Grabbing Ariadne’s hand, we dashed along behind her until we reached the room where the doctor was bandaging Mrs Knight’s arm, and peered round the doorframe.
“My good woman,” the doctor was saying to Miss Bowler, waving at Mrs Knight who was lying on a chaise longue. “This lady needs rest …”
“Don’t you my good woman me!” Miss Bowler boomed at him. She was so loud that his moustache quivered. “This is important!” She turned back to Mrs Knight. “Helena, there’s no sign of the girl, nor of that Mrs Moss. It’s hellish out there. We need to send out a search party, you need a hospital and then we need to get everyone on the bus and back to Rookwood!”
Mrs Knight looked drained, but a little better, though she paled at this news. “Perhaps that would be best, Eunice,” she started.
Scarlet barged in, all thoughts of being stealthy forgotten. “Miss, you can’t! They just said that a tree has fallen and the bridge is blocked!”
Miss Bowler whirled round. “No eavesdropping, Grey!” Then she paused, apparently taking in what Scarlet had just said. “Are you sure, girl?”
“Yes,” she said, folding her arms indignantly. “Ask Mr Rudge if you don’t believe me.”
Mrs Knight frowned. “We’ll have to stay here until they can clear it,” she said weakly.
Miss Bowler was red in the face and still dripping. “I don’t fancy spending another night in this place!”
“Neither do I,” Mrs Knight admitted. She winced as the doctor folded her arm into a sling. “But we don’t have a choice.”
“And the missing girl?” Miss Bowler huffed.
“You can’t just leave her out there!” Scarlet shouted at them.
Mrs Knight thought about it. “See if you can find anyone willing to help search,” she said quietly to Miss Bowler. “Perhaps some of the local people and hotel staff. Keep all the other girls inside. We’ll do what we can.”
I decided I had to step in. “Miss, the local people … we think Mr Owens might be—”
“GET OUT, BOTH OF YOU!” Miss Bowler yelled. “NOT YOUR BUSINESS! BACK TO YOUR ROOM, NOW!”
And with that, she marched us out of the room and slammed the door in our faces.
“They have to let us look for Rose,” Scarlet said as we walked back through the corridors.
“Not a chance,” I said. “They don’t want us to leave.” And I didn’t blame them. The hotel was a huge, old, solid building, but I was still half afraid that the storm was going to blow the windows in at any moment. I’d never seen such awful weather.
“Maybe she’ll be all right,” Ariadne said. “She could just be hiding. Perhaps she found the caves again.”
“Well, she can’t leave the area around the lake,” I said. “The road is blocked.” I wasn’t sure if that was a reassuring thought or not.
“Let’s go and see,” Scarlet said, and she dragged us both off towards the restaurant, which had the best view of the lake on the ground floor.
Mr and Mrs Rudge were standing there together, staring out of the window at the storm. He looked as though he was about to tear his hair out. “How are our customers going to get here with this?” he said, gesturing down at the bridge.
We sneaked over to the big windows and looked out at where he was pointing. You could see where the huge tree was blocking the road, the trunk split and smoking.
You’d need something big to lift it, or a lot of men to saw it up, and that wasn’t going to happen in the middle of a storm.
“Really, Gerald?” Mrs Rudge snapped. “That’s all you’re worried about?” She ripped off her apron and threw it on the floor.
“What?” Mr Rudge called after her as she left. “What did I say?”
“That’s not good,” I said.
“Oh my gosh!” Ariadne exclaimed suddenly. “Look!”
In the midst of the storm, someone was rowing a boat across the lake again. It was hard to make out from this distance, but it looked a lot like the one in Ariadne’s picture, like a canoe rather than like the rowing boats we’d rented that bobbed by the shore. I couldn’t see who was paddling it, or make out any more detail. It was little more than a black blob on the water, but it was definitely a boat.
“What if that’s him?” Ariadne said, her eyes wide. “Bob Owens?”
Scarlet turned away from the window. “And what if he’s got Rose? Why else would he be out in this? He’s up to something, I know it!”
And before I could talk her out of it, Scarlet was running for the reception area. A row of raincoats was hanging there, presumably belonging to the Rudges or the other guests. She grabbed one and pulled it on, though it was too big for her.
“Scarlet, you can’t,” I said. “That doesn’t belong to you. And it’s not safe!”
“You heard what the teachers said!” Ariadne whimpered. “We need to stay inside.”
Scarlet grabbed two more of the coats off the hooks and thrust them into our arms. “I wouldn’t leave you behind,” she said, “and I’m not leaving her behind either.”
“I want to rescue her as much as you do! But what if we just put ourselves in danger and can’t even find her?” I couldn’t believe Scarlet would do something so reckless.
Actually, I definitely could, but that was beside the point.
“It’s just a storm,” said Scarlet. “We’ll get a bit wet and cold, maybe.” She saw my disbelieving expression. “I’ve had worse, Ivy. Much worse. But Rose is out there, and she’s probably terrified, and maybe someone’s taken her. Maybe he’s locking her up in that tower right now. Are you going to just stand here and let that happen?”
I could see the fear behind my twin’s anger. Someone had taken her and imprisoned her, and if there was the smallest chanc
e it could happen to anyone else … She couldn’t risk that. I understood.
And Rose … There was no one to care for her. Just like we’d thought there was no one to care for us. We now knew that wasn’t true for us, but what about her? Without Violet, she was alone in the world.
Unless she had us.
“All right,” I whispered.
Ariadne looked at me, and the second our eyes met, I knew she was going to come too. We stuck together. No questions.
We put the raincoats on. The rain hammered down, the lightning flashed, and my heart raced. Determined, Scarlet wrenched open the front door of the hotel.
And we set out into the storm.
Chapter Thirty
SCARLET
t was worse than it had been earlier, if that was possible. The falling rain felt like knives, driving downwards. The clouds looked like they were boiling in the black sky. I could barely see.
But was I going to let that stop me? No, I blooming well wasn’t.
I ran down the hill outside the hotel, Ivy and Ariadne yelling after me to slow down, my feet splashing through puddles and skidding on the wet ground. The air smelt damp and earthy, but it was full of electricity too, almost sizzling. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up.
We have to get across the lake. We have to see what’s in that tower. We have to find Rose. The thoughts ran through my head over and over.
We got down to the lakeside and the little jetty, where the rowing boats were being battered by the rain.
“Are you sure this is safe?” Ivy shouted over the noise of the rain.
“No!” I replied, as my feet flew over the wet boards. I knew the boat I wanted. The Adventure.
At least it’s not the sea, I thought to myself, though even the wind alone was making waves on the lake.
“Come on!” I yelled to the others, waving them on. “Get in!”
Ivy and Ariadne hopped into the boat, shivering. Ariadne slipped off the rope that was tying it to the jetty, and straight away the old thing began to move. I began rowing as hard as I possibly could, the oars cutting through the choppy water.
Since I was rowing backwards, Ariadne had to shout directions at me. “Left! No, the other left! Straight! Keep going!”
“Can you see it?” I tried to turn my neck, but it was hard while I was keeping hold of the oars – not to mention that I was half blind from the rain.
“It’s right up ahead!” Ivy threw her arm out. We were getting close to the tower. The second time I turned, I could see it looming up on the shore, surrounded by forest, like something out of a particularly nasty fairy tale.
“Look!” Ariadne said suddenly. “There’s the canoe!” So we were right. Whoever it was, Bob Owens or not, they had taken the canoe to the tower.
Soon we were close enough to the tower to touch the base of it. I almost crashed into it, knocking the edge of the boat against the wall and nearly sending us all flying. I stopped rowing and turned to look.
The tower jutted out from the shore a little way – there was a bridge from the land reaching out to it, and the canoe was moored underneath the bridge, neatly hidden out of sight. “Over there,” Ivy said, pointing to it. A ladder went up the side of the bridge from the water.
I used my hand to shove the boat away from the wall and then started to row again, until we were next to the ladder. “You two go first!” I yelled to the others.
Ivy looked up at it, unconvinced, but soon she had grabbed hold and was climbing up. I held on to an iron rung on the wall, hoping to keep the boat steady. It was cold and slimy with algae.
Ariadne followed Ivy, heaving herself up and up. Now I was left in the boat. My turn. I shivered, watching the rain drip off my hood, trying to work myself up to it. As soon as I let go of the rung, the boat started to wobble and drift away. Not good. I picked up the soggy rope from the ground and tied it to the rung using the best knot I could manage, which wasn’t good either, but it held it for now.
“We made it!” I heard Ariadne shout.
“Scarlet, are you coming?” That was Ivy.
“Hang on!” I yelled back. I stared up at the ladder as the boat drifted on the water. I took a deep breath … and jumped.
I had hold of the ladder, the rungs as wet and slippery as the one I’d tied the boat to. I began to climb, and tried not to look down.
I came to the top, and reached out a hand to Ivy and Ariadne, who pulled me up over the parapet. We all sat there for a moment on the wet stone, panting, not quite believing we’d done it. Thunder rolled overhead, another flash of white … We had to get inside.
The tower was enormous, seen this close up. Big and black and menacing, with slitted windows and a huge door like an angry mouth.
“Are you sure he’s in there?” Ivy asked.
“Someone is,” Ariadne pointed out. There was a bolt on the door, but it was slid back.
“Come on,” I said, and strode towards the entrance, sounding braver than I felt. But whoever was waiting for us in there … We could deal with them, I was sure of that.
Do it for Rose, I thought, as I grabbed the handle, heaved open the door and heard … music?
It was some sort of symphony, playing loudly. The sound was crackly, like it was on an old gramophone.
All three of us peered inside, but the darkness gave nothing away. I steeled myself and stepped forward, pulling the others in behind me. Then Ivy tugged the door closed, shutting out the storm.
“At least it’s dry in here,” Ariadne whispered. The water dripped off our clothes and on to the stone floor.
It was dry, and strangely warm too. The loud music was drowning out the weather outside. If it weren’t for the fact we were surrounded by dark stone, I might’ve called it homely.
I could see a light coming from one side of the entranceway, so I headed towards it cautiously. The music got louder as I stepped closer. There was an arch, and it opened on to a round room …
We stepped in, and I couldn’t believe the sight that met our eyes.
The room was tall and lit by gas lamps. The air was filled with the music, and the smell of firewood. There was an enormous hearth, with a fire raging in it.
And then there was the furniture. A bed, a table, a huge chest, a washbasin, a hat stand with hats hanging from it.
And then there was the wind-up gramophone, the tinny orchestra swelling out of it, and next to it, an old-fashioned diving suit with a helmet.
And then there was the wall, covered with old photographs of blank-eyed villagers staring at the camera, and newspaper clippings, headlines blaring out:
WATER COMPANY BUYS VILLAGE
VILLAGERS PROTEST
CREATION OF RESERVOIR
CONSTRUCTION BEGINS ON NEW DAM
And there, sitting in a worn armchair in front of the fire, humming along to the music and oblivious to our entrance, was Bob Owens.
With a quick glance at the others, who were wide-eyed in disbelief, I whispered, “Look for Rose!” and then marched in front of Bob. His eyes snapped open.
“Whoa, girl, you startled me.” He looked up and his gaze moved across the three of us. “You two as well. How did you get in here?”
He stood up, sprightly for an old man, and rubbed at his grey hair with a towel.
“Through the front door,” I said indignantly, hands on my hips. “Are you going to explain yourself?”
He frowned. “Explain what?”
“Why you’re living in a tower? Why you have all this stuff?” I gestured at the newspaper clippings and the diving suit.
“This is my home now,” he said. He walked over to the gramophone and stopped the needle, the music skidding to a halt. “It’s a straining tower – it removes debris from the water. But this workers’ room was left empty, so I moved in.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to live in some new soulless place. I wanted to stay in the valley, to be close to my home.”
“So you really were one of the people from the village?” Ivy as
ked as she peered around. “In the story you told?”
“Of course,” he said, as if we were slow and had only just caught up. “Born and bred in Seren.” He put a proud fist to his chest. “All of us Owenses, going back generations.”
Ariadne had tiptoed over to the other side of the room and was standing next to the heavy chest. There was a mighty creak as she opened the lid, and I heard her gasp.
“Hey!” Bob spun round. “What are you doing?”
She reached into the chest and held up a stack of old prayer books, just like the one that had been left dripping with water in the hotel.
“Put those down,” he demanded. His face was burning red. “Stop touching my things.”
“It was you,” she said. She put the prayer books down, but then reached into the chest and began pulling out other things – another candlestick, a Communion goblet, a metal cross thick with rust. “You’ve been leaving these in the hotel!” She looked at the diving suit. It had a weird round helmet and long rubber gloves, and there was a lamp on the top. “Did you dive down and get them? Where did you get this suit?”
“I … I …” He spluttered, going over to her and grabbing all the objects. “I was in the Navy for a while. But that’s not your business.” He shoved the objects back into the chest and tried to change the subject. “These are my things. From my church. I’m allowed to have them.”
“Yes, but you’ve been scaring people,” I said. “On purpose. It’s not just these old bits of junk. You’re behind all of it, aren’t you? The writing on the wall, going through people’s things, frightening our horses …”
“Hang on a minute,” he said, holding up a finger. “I didn’t—”
“Turning on the taps in the night,” Ivy added. “Scaring us in the cave. Stealing things.”
“Why did you do it?” I asked. “Do you hate the Rudges?” And then I remembered why we were there, and added: “Did you take our friend? Do you know where she is?”
Bob waved his arms. “For goodness’ sake, all of you, shut up for a minute and listen, and I’ll explain!”
The Lights Under the Lake Page 16
