At the Lake

by Jill Harris

He stepped further into the room. The bed and the cot were made up, and some small, bright objects dangled from a line stretched over the cot. There were several things on the shelf: a large thermos, mugs, and a packet of tea-bags; a jar of gingernut biscuits; bottles of water; a clear plastic box with babies’ bottles and teats inside, and a cover over it; a bottle of medicine in a pale purple packet labelled ‘Phenergan’. Next to the cabinet was a bucket with a lid.

  Who was using the room?

  Maybe a friend of the Lewises? Someone who didn’t have enough money to live anywhere else? Someone who didn’t want other people to know she had a baby?

  But there isn’t any water or electricity, thought Simon. Wouldn’t that make it difficult to look after a baby? How would you bath it? And what about the laundry?

  There must be other clues. He picked up the bottle of medicine, and read that it was used to quieten babies down — the instructions said you gave different amounts depending on the age of the baby, starting at six months. How big was the baby? Judging by some clothes he now noticed on the bed, it must be pretty small — not that he knew anything at all about babies!

  He crossed to the table and shuffled idly through a pile of newspapers. The one on top was yesterday’s. A couple of papers down, the front-page headline said: Police confirm ransom note received. Further down the pile, another headline caught his eye: Still no sign of Sophie. Next to it was a photo of a baby. He looked more carefully then at the headlines in other papers: Police saying little about baby snatch. Then, on the front page of the paper at the bottom of the pile was a large, black headline: Baby snatched at gunpoint. Simon read further:

  The baby daughter of celebrity blues singer Rocco Quinn was snatched from her pram outside her home in broad day light this morning. An armed, hooded man took baby Sophie while her mother stood by helplessly. The kidnapper fled on foot down a lane leading to a busy main road.

  The baby’s mother rang 111 on her cellphone. A neighbour who had been cleaning a car on the drive of her house said that the police arrived within ten minutes.

  ‘The first I realized something had happened was when the baby’s mother screamed out “He’s taken my baby!”’ said the neighbour, who did not wish to be named.

  There has been no statement from the family or the police so far.

  Quinn has built up a huge international reputation since he first recorded …’

  Simon’s mind was working overtime making connections. Was this where the kidnapped baby was being hidden? Was Mrs Lewis involved? If so, Rosie was right: there most certainly was something going on at the yard!

  A car door slammed and footsteps approached. Simon’s head jerked up: he was trapped! He shuffled the newspapers back into a pile and looked around desperately. What else had he touched? The medicine! He darted over and put it back on the shelf. Where could he hide?

  The wardrobe.

  He opened the door and stepped in. There was no door handle on the inside, so he hooked his fingers around the edge of the door and managed to pull it almost completely shut. Some kind of garment brushed against him. It smelt dusty. He breathed shallowly and silently through his mouth. Don’t let me sneeze, he prayed. And don’t let the dog be with them. Feet climbed the steps and crossed the passageway. The door opened.

  ‘Just stop y’ bloody whingeing and get on with it,’ Simon heard Squint Lewis say.

  ‘The baby shouldn’t be doped up all the time.’ Simon recognized Mrs Lewis’s voice. ‘She’s too sleepy to take the bottle properly. She needs the fluid. I’ll never forgive myself if anything—’

  ‘Oh, shuddup!’ interrupted Squint. ‘Just keep her alive ’til handover on Friday.’

  ‘What happens then?’ the woman asked.

  ‘None of y’ bloody business.’

  Simon heard the dog whining outside the house. He went cold with fear.

  ‘I won’t have the dog in this room,’ said Mrs Lewis.

  ‘You’ll do what y’ damn well told,’ growled Squint, but he shouted to the dog. ‘Ace! Get back to your kennel!’

  ‘There was a mouse in here last night,’ said Mrs Lewis. ‘There are probably rats, too. I need a trap. You said you’d bring one from home.’

  ‘Well, I forgot, didn’t I!’ snapped Squint. ‘I’ll bring it up later when we swap.’

  There was silence for a while. It sounded to Simon as though the woman was settling the baby into the cot.

  ‘Why can’t you tell me what’s happening on Friday?’ asked Mrs Lewis. ‘Who’s going to look after the baby then? Will it be another woman? Where are you taking her?’

  ‘Shuddup with your questions!’

  ‘I’ve got to arrange things for the kids. They’re already asking too many questions about where I am. Rosie doesn’t believe I’m still working on the accounts after all this time.’

  ‘You tell her I’ll give her another hiding if she asks too many questions, cheeky little bitch.’

  ‘She’s too old for that!’ The woman raised her voice. ‘You leave her alone!’

  ‘If you’re not too old for a hiding, neither is she!’ Squint’s voice was ugly — Simon had heard that voice before.

  ‘You leave Rosie alone!’

  Suddenly, there was a scuffle and a scream.

  ‘Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do!’

  Simon heard a loud slap and a thump, and a body fell heavily against the wardrobe. The door clicked shut. He heard muffled sobbing.

  ‘And cook decent food tonight,’ snarled Squint, ‘none of that Italian rubbish.’

  Simon heard his footsteps moving away. He felt sickened and shaken by the attack. Squint was far worse than a bully: he was a thug. But once you allowed yourself to be a bully, you crossed a line; you set out along a path to much worse things. Simon knew that, and he felt a moment of bitter shame.

  The wardrobe rocked slightly as Mrs Lewis pushed herself to her feet. Gradually the sobbing died down. She blew her nose.

  ‘Poor little thing,’ he heard her say. ‘I’m doing my best for you.’

  Simon suddenly realized that he was truly trapped. He was locked inside the wardrobe with no way of getting out. He couldn’t call for help — only Mrs Lewis or Squint would be there to hear him, and he knew too much to be allowed to escape. If Mrs Lewis left the room, he had no way of forcing the lock and she would probably hear him trying anyway. He felt cold and stiff. He was thirsty. He longed to sit down, but he was frightened he would make a noise.

  The baby had to be Sophie. No wonder Squint had had to scare him off — and keep on doing it. How long had the baby been there? He hadn’t noticed the date of the earliest newspaper on the table, but there would have been at least six newspapers in the pile. Six days. Squint had first warned him off more than a week ago. The baby wouldn’t have been there then, but they would have been about to get the room ready — and the cot had already been there. Simon knew he was in serious danger. His only hope was his note to Barney. Barney had said he would be home around four. How long would it be before he realized Simon should have come home, and came looking for him?

  19

  Gone looking for Simon

  The cherries were nearly finished. After he had eaten a good few, Jem had hardly any left to take home — just enough for lunch.

  He lay on the warm, white sand thinking about the past couple of days. He didn’t want to go swimming any more, not after what had happened at the rock. In the few seconds before Barney had reached him, he had been sure he was going to drown. After an instant of terror, his body had taken over and fought to stay alive, flailing around and gulping for air. He had no hope that Simon would help him; Simon wanted him to drown.

  This is what he kept coming back to: Simon had wanted him to drown.

  His eyes watered. He was used to his brother being mean to him, but this was different. Simon wanted him gone for keeps. He had deliberately set it up and watched him drowning. He had done nothing to help. Normally, Jem thought his brother wasn’t all tha
t bad. Sometimes he could even be quite decent — look at the way he had got them out of trouble when Squint Lewis had tried to run them off the road with his car. Maybe Simon was so bugged by Squint it made him do crazy things.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone approaching. Squint! he thought in alarm. He leapt to his feet. Over the brow of the slope came Rosie and Tommy. They hesitated when they saw him.

  ‘Hello,’ called Jem.

  They came on.

  ‘The cherries are pretty well finished,’ he said.

  ‘We’ve come for a swim,’ said Rosie.

  ‘Have you already been in? Is it very cold?’ asked Tommy. ‘Come in with us again.’

  ‘Nah,’ said Jem. ‘I’ve got to go home. Simon and I have to clean out the runabout.’

  ‘I saw Simon biking up the road a little while ago,’ said Rosie.

  Jem stared at her.

  ‘You couldn’t have,’ he said. ‘We’re not supposed—’ He stopped.

  Rosie looked at him sharply. ‘Not supposed to what?’

  ‘Nothing,’ mumbled Jem. ‘I’ve gotta go.’ He picked up the tin with the cherries in it. ‘Here, you have them, I’ve already eaten heaps.’ He thrust the tin at Rosie and started to walk away.

  ‘Keep away from my dad,’ said Rosie abruptly. ‘He can be really mean.’

  Jem hesitated. ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I know.’

  He climbed the slope as fast as he could. Where had Simon gone? Why had he broken the deal with Barney? He was gripped with dread. When he got home, he burst into the house calling Simon’s name and going from room to room. He found Simon’s note to Barney. Oh no! he thought. Why on earth have you broken our deal with Barney?

  What should he do? Barney wouldn’t be back for several hours. How would Ace behave? Jem knew Simon would stay out of sight, but Ace would sniff him out in a flash and he didn’t think Simon would be able to stop him barking. What would Squint Lewis do if he found Simon? Should he ring the Masons?

  On the other hand, Squint and Ace might not be at the yard. Simon could be looking around this moment, perfectly safe. He would satisfy his curiosity and come home without any trouble. He might be walking along the track right now and could turn up in less than an hour.

  Yes, thought Jem, I’ll wait an hour before I do anything. Eleven-oh-five – right. Fleetingly he thought this must be what Simon had felt when he, Jem, had taken off for the yard. Maybe that had something to do with what Simon had done to him at the rock.

  If he was going to the yard, he had better have lunch early. He made himself some ham sandwiches and poured a glass of orange. But his feeling of dread wouldn’t go away. He had to force the sandwiches down. Eleven-thirty. What if Ace is bailing Simon up right now? What if Squint is hurting him while I’m sitting here having my lunch?

  You said you’d wait an hour, he reminded himself. He finished his drink, shoved some ham in his pocket, and grabbed his sweatshirt.

  Gone looking for Simon

  he scrawled on the bottom of Simon’s note, and added the time. Then he was off on his bicycle, heading for the track.

  Jem saw the earth scooped out of the hole under the fence. He noticed that Simon had pulled the branch further forward to identify where the hole was — good move. Detecting no movement or sound — except for the radio — Jem house-hopped his way cautiously towards the office. He had seen Simon’s bike at the beginning of the track, so Simon must be somewhere in the yard. At each house, he called out ‘Simon?’ very quietly. He crept past the house where the radio was playing — he would investigate it later — until he was close to the office. There was no car, and Ace was chained to the kennel, tail wagging furiously. He must have recognized Jem as soon as he got through the fence, otherwise he would have been in a frenzy of barking.

  Seeing no sign of anyone in the office, Jem walked over to Ace and made a fuss of him. Ace sniffed his pocket until Jem gave him a piece of ham. Then he climbed the steps and looked through the open door — empty. Some baby clothes were drying on a clothes rack. That’s funny, he thought. Now where’s Simon? He’d have to finish checking all the houses. He ruffled the thick fur on Ace’s back on his way past, but just as he began to cross the gravel road the radio suddenly got louder, as though someone had turned it up — or had opened a door. Jem darted behind a yellow truck and stood against one of its massive wheels. He heard footsteps crunching on the gravel only metres from him. A woman, not a man, he thought.

  Ace whined. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ said a woman’s voice. It was Mrs Lewis! Jem heard her climbing the office steps. He heard a kettle being filled, and shortly afterwards a toilet being flushed. He edged along the side of the truck until he could poke his head out and see the office. If the woman had been looking out of the door she would have seen him, too. Ace whined again.

  ‘Be quiet!’

  Would she stay there long enough for him to make a dash for it? But even if she didn’t see him, she would hear his footsteps on the gravel. Just at that moment, the phone rang and she answered — there was his chance!

  He ran along the grass verge until he was opposite a house well clear of the office. He darted across the road and under the house where the grass grew high enough to hide him. Had she seen or heard him? Nothing happened. He longed to slip away through the hole in the fence to safety — but where was Simon? He couldn’t leave until he had found him.

  Ducking and weaving his way through the houses he hadn’t yet checked, he called out ‘Simon?’ in a low voice at each one. After a while he was back at the house with the radio. This must be where Mrs Lewis had come from. It was very unlikely Simon would be here. He was pretty sure Mrs Lewis was still in the office — if she’d returned he would have heard her on the gravel.

  He was wrong.

  As he climbed the steps and went in, he could hear the radio in a room on his right, off a narrow hall. He pushed open the door. Standing just inside was Mrs Lewis.

  She stared at him, eyes wide with shock. ‘Jem! What are you doing here?’

  Run! screamed a voice in Jem’s head. He turned in the doorway, but the woman stepped forward and seized his arm.

  ‘Not so fast.’ She closed the door behind him. ‘What are you doing here?’ she repeated.

  ‘I … I just came for a bike ride,’ said Jem.

  ‘JEM!’ The voice came from a wardrobe to his left. ‘It’s Simon! Get me out!’ The wardrobe door rattled as someone banged on it.

  The woman gasped and whirled around. Jem shook off her hand, took two paces to the wardrobe and opened the door. Simon stepped out stiffly. He had never been so pleased to see his brother in his whole life. He could have hugged him.

  A baby began to cry.

  20

  The chase was on!

  ‘The baby’s been kidnapped!’ shouted Simon. ‘The Lewises are hiding her here.’

  Shock upon shock: too much was happening for Jem. He stared at Simon open-mouthed. He looked around, taking in the cot, the baby clothes, the bottles in the plastic box.

  ‘I hid in the wardrobe,’ said Simon, ‘but there’s no handle inside and I couldn’t get out.’ There was desperation in his voice.

  The woman picked up the baby.

  ‘Her name’s Sophie,’ Simon told Jem. Urgently, he added: ‘We have to get her away from here before Squint comes back.’ He stared defiantly at Mrs Lewis.

  For a long moment she returned his stare. Then she said tersely, ‘I’m coming with you. But we’ll have to hurry: he just rang to say he’s coming back — he’ll be on his way. How did you get here?’

  ‘A track through the bush,’ explained Simon. ‘You have to climb under the back fence by the bush.’

  ‘I’ll get the key to the back gate,’ said Mrs Lewis. She rapidly bundled a bottle of milk, some nappies and a dummy into a bag, wrapped the baby in a blanket and passed her to Simon. She gave the bag to Jem. ‘Quickly now, take the baby to the gate and I’ll get the key from the office.’

&nb
sp; ‘How do we know you won’t ring Squint and tell him what’s happening?’ said Simon.

  ‘Don’t be stupid!’ said Mrs Lewis. ‘This is my chance to get away! You can’t imagine I wanted to be involved in all this?’

  There was no time to weigh up what she had said. The two boys headed up the gravel road for the back fence as fast as they could, Simon clutching the baby awkwardly. But before they got there, they heard a car approaching.

  ‘I think we should get under the fence, just in case,’ panted Simon. ‘Squint might stop her.’

  Jem ran ahead and pulled the branch aside from the hole, but Mrs Lewis came into view running towards them.

  ‘She’ll make it,’ said Simon. ‘Quick! Head for the gate!’

  Mrs Lewis caught up with them.

  ‘We can take the boat,’ she panted. ‘He won’t be able to follow.’

  As she fumbled with the padlock they heard a car approaching the front entrance, slowing down and stopping. Mrs Lewis gasped. ‘Quickly, quickly — he mustn’t catch us!’ She was almost sobbing. ‘It won’t take him long to find out I’ve gone.’

  The padlock clicked open, and they pushed through the gate just as Ace bounded up barking.

  ‘Squint must have let him off,’ said Jem. ‘OK, fella: stay!’ He threw the last of the ham towards the dog. Ace stopped in his tracks and made no attempt to hinder them as they ran down the bush track to the cove. They heard the whine of a car speeding towards the back gate.

  ‘You and Jem go to the boat,’ puffed Simon. ‘I’ll take the other track and try to draw him off.’

  ‘You can’t!’ Jem’s face was white. ‘He’ll kill you!’

  They reached the turn-off to the track. Simon passed the baby to Mrs Lewis.

  ‘Give me the dummy!’ he ordered.

  Jem fumbled in the bag for the dummy. Simon grabbed it.

  ‘Go on now!’ said Simon urgently. ‘You have to get away!’

  Mrs Lewis and Jem ran on down the track to the cove. Simon trampled the ferns at the entrance to the other track. He could hear the thudding of boots further up. He dropped the dummy in the entrance to the track. ‘Leave it!’ he said in a loud, urgent voice, and ran on, making as much noise as he could.