Shadows of the Lost Child

by Ellie Stevenson

  ‘No, I don’t, and the person who gave me the beads doesn’t either. I’ve already asked, you can trust me on that.’

  ‘And you really can’t tell me who that is?’

  ‘No,’ said Miranda, ‘but believe me, Tom, they don’t know anything, nothing at all.’ And I hope to God that’s really true.

  ‘Here, have it back,’ said Tom, sadly.

  ‘What?’ said Miranda, pushing it away. ‘It’s yours, you fool, she wanted you to have it. That’s why I went to the trouble of getting it.’

  ‘Yes, I know, and I’m glad you did, but it’s best you keep it, on loan if you like. I can’t take it home, not at the moment, not with the move and our stuff all over. Such as we have.’ He made a face and Miranda sighed. She took the necklace.

  ‘Don’t you fret about that, Tom, something might change, who knows what might happen. But of course I’ll keep it, I’ll wear it for you.’ She slipped the beads around her neck.

  ‘Thanks, Miranda,’ Tom said grinning. ‘You’re a mate, and a good one, and I’m really grateful.’

  ‘I know,’ said Miranda, smiling at Thomas. But inside, the anxiety ate at her heart.

  Chapter 90

  Now – Aleph

  ‘Have you talked to Cressida yet?’ Guinevere asked me, the next time we met. We were taking a break from moving the freezer.

  ‘I’m just waiting to find the right moment.’

  ‘Sometimes that moment never arrives. Sometimes you have to make it yourself. That’s quite a substantial trapdoor, Aleph.’

  ‘But easy to open, all the same.’ I looked at Ginny. ‘I don’t think this is a good idea.’

  ‘You’re just scared,’ Guinevere said. She was right, I was. Of telling Cressida.

  I stared at Ginny, who stared right back; two immovable, stubborn objects. Along with a third, the upright freezer, which was already standing against the wall. I lifted the trapdoor and peered down.

  On my last visit, I hadn’t been worried, the cellar had been just a cellar back then. But that was before I knew about the body. ‘Be my guest,’ I said to Ginny who grinned and grabbed the torch and went down.

  Intrepid journalist strikes again, I said to myself. I thought, vaguely, about closing the trapdoor and shutting her down there, but dismissed the idea almost at once. The plan had a certain symmetry to it.

  Dead woman’s great niece trapped in cellar where body was found.

  I followed her down the rickety steps.

  ‘There’s not a lot to see down here,’ Guinevere commented.

  ‘And even less than the first time I visited. At least there was a boot, back then.’ I pointed up at the empty shelf. Guinevere nodded.

  ‘Did you bring the recorder with you?’

  ‘I thought we should have a look round first. Didn’t want to scare them all away.’

  Guinevere frowned in the eerie light. She thought I wasn’t being suitably serious. I was trying to lighten the mood. I was dreading opening the cupboard door. And going beyond it.

  ‘You know I barely lived in this house, unlike my sister?’

  ‘Was that because of the body?’ I asked.

  ‘Presumably,’ said Ginny, shrugging. ‘I know we moved out fairly soon after, and we two kids were sent off to school. I went later, because of my age. My parents rented the Old Schoolhouse out. But when we’d grown up and Father had died, my mother came back, she liked this house best, and always had done, despite what had happened. The ghosts didn’t bother her, real or imagined.’

  ‘Why did she leave the house to your sister?’

  ‘She left a house to each of us and Marianne always liked this place, just like my mother had. Not that she came to visit her much and neither did I; we should have done more.’ Ginny looked sad. We stared at the cupboard I’d opened previously.

  ‘Mother implied that the tunnel began behind that cupboard. That’s where they found her, not in the cellar.’

  ‘It’s still too close to home for me.’

  ‘Ha!’ said Ginny, grinning broadly. I bit the bullet and opened the cupboard.

  ‘Clara insisted it wasn’t her sister,’ Guinevere told me, dunking her biscuit in her tea. She poured us both another mug. We were back upstairs and having a break, finding the courage to get on with the job.

  ‘I thought it was fairly conclusive,’ I said.

  ‘Not by today’s standards it wasn’t. There was no DNA and the parents were dead and the body had rotted down to the bones and a few scraps of clothing. Some of the characteristics fitted, the gender for one. But nobody proved it was Mary-Ann. Not to Clara.’

  ‘So Clara Parks was still alive?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Ginny, ‘she was seventy-eight. Clara was bright, or so I was told. After her sister, Mary-Ann vanished and the parents died, Clara went abroad to work, and then she became a single mum. Later, her son came over to England, met his wife and bought the house. But Clara never came back, ever.’

  ‘Not even when Mary-Ann’s body was found?’

  ‘She was far too old, or so she said. The details were passed across to the States, to see if she thought the woman was her sister. But she swore till she died that it wasn’t Mary-Ann.’

  ‘Why was that?’ I said, curious.

  ‘Because of the necklace they found with the body.’ Ginny stared at the biscuits, wistfully.

  ‘For God’s sake, Guinevere, just have another,’ I said, exasperated.

  ‘I can’t, I’m afraid, I’m on a diet.’ Guinevere looked like she’d lost a fortune.

  ‘So that explains why you’re so grumpy.’ Guinevere gave me a filthy look.

  ‘The police showed Clara a photo of the necklace, but she said she’d never seen it before. She said Mary-Ann wouldn’t wear such a thing.’

  ‘I presume they didn’t believe her, though?’

  ‘You’re right, they didn’t. They’d found some people who’d known Mary-Ann and two of those people remembered the necklace. They also remembered Mary-Ann wearing it, not long before she disappeared. The police thought Clara wouldn’t face the truth, that her sister was dead and not coming back.’

  ‘Did Clara ever change her mind?’

  ‘No,’ said Guinevere, ‘she never did.’ She paused, considering. ‘My great-aunt thought the beads were too cheap. “Common,” she’d said, “as cheap as muck. My sister would never have worn such a thing.

  ‘“The beads of a child,” were the words she used.’

  Chapter 91

  Then – Ben

  Ben was putting the lid on a coffin, this one was empty. He tested the joints, they seemed to work. Then he heard a noise and looked around. Tanya Curtis was standing behind him, right by the door. Ben swore, but under his breath, and cursed himself for leaving it open. But that was how it normally was. He glanced at Tanya. ‘Need some help?’

  ‘I’ve come to make you a little proposal.’ Tanya smiled and edged a bit closer and Ben stepped backwards, banging his thigh on the table leg. Damn, that hurt.

  ‘If you want to sit down, there’s a chair over there, I’ve not got long, I’ve got to go out.’ He wiped his dusty hands on a cloth, he could hardly tell her to leave, right now, not before he’d heard her out. And saw if her words posed any threat. I’ll be damned if they will, he said to himself. He smiled at the woman, she was a looker, right enough.

  ‘I’ll stand, thanks,’ said Tanya, shortly, eyeing the coffin and moving away. ‘About my proposal, it concerns your business.’

  ‘The funeral business?’ said Ben, slowly. He’d already guessed what Tanya meant.

  ‘The removal business, shall we call it? I’ve learnt that you and a man called Eisen ply a trade in removing stock and selling it on. Valuable stock, or so I’ve been told.’ She paused for a moment and Ben smiled.

  ‘Wood,’ he said, ‘we’ve a trade in wood, and it isn’t a secret, everybody knows it. There’s a bloke I know who gets it cheap and Wetherby uses it in his workshop, not for the good stuff, but for trainin
g the lads. Some of it’s spare and we sell that on, it’s all above board and the school benefits.’ He smiled at Tanya, feeling more confident.

  ‘I’m not talking about the wood, this is what I’d call valuable stock, antiques, shall we say. You know what I mean, I’ve seen them, Ben.’

  ‘Have you?’ said Ben. ‘Well, all I’ll say is wherever you look you won’t find any stock of mine, apart from the wood and that’s legit. And also the bodies, but you know about those.’ He stroked a coffin. Tanya paled.

  ‘You’ve moved them out of the crypt, right enough. And into the tunnel, or so I’d imagine.’

  Ben shook his head and sighed, heavily. ‘So, you were the one who followed Miranda into the tunnel, locking me out of my own workshop. Breaking and entering, that’s what I’d call it. Not to mention, probable theft. And now you’re trying to threaten me.’

  ‘No, not threaten, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m just suggesting a business arrangement, for keeping an eye out, for a small fee. I’d squash any rumours I hear about treasure, put people off, that sort of thing.’ She smiled at Ben, a radiant smile that made her look lovely. Ben barely noticed.

  ‘Go away Tanya, I haven’t the time. The rumours you talk of would only be rumours started by you. I’m up to my eyes in dead bodies, I haven’t got time for this sort of thing. Besides,’ he paused, ‘you’ve got no proof.’

  ‘Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, I do have proof. Solid and shiny, that’s my proof.’ Tanya paused. ‘I’m only after a little assistance, a regular fee to feed my nephew. A business expense, that’s all it is. It’s peanuts to you.’ Ben leapt to his feet.

  ‘There’s nothing to link such goods to me. Get out of my workshop, now,’ he said, ‘and don’t come back, if you know what’s good for you.’ He moved towards her and Tanya, alarmed, stepped out of the way.

  ‘You haven’t heard the last of this. I could go to the police with what I know.’ Ben laughed, loudly.

  ‘That’s a joke if ever I heard one. We’ve only two men for the whole of the Low, and one’s an old soak, and the other’s just old.’ He grabbed Tanya’s arm and shoved her carelessly out of the door.

  ‘Nobody likes a snitch around here. Whatever you’ve got could have come from anywhere; you’ll never prove I knew anything about it. So don’t come back, I don’t want to see you.’ He slammed the door as she hurried away, barely noticing Carol Islip who’d just walked past on the other side.

  Later that day, he was taking a drink at The Tavern with Miranda. She toyed with her glass and looked around.

  ‘I feel disloyal sitting in here, instead of us drinking at home in the Keepsake. I shouldn’t be propping up others’ profits.’

  ‘You wouldn’t relax if you were back there. Besides, Miranda, we need to talk.’ Ben gulped at his pint.

  ‘Why, what’s happened?’

  ‘Curtis, that’s what, she only tried to threaten me, she said she wanted a cut of the profits. From the church takings.’ Miranda went pale.

  ‘No, you’re joking!’

  ‘I wouldn’t joke about something like that. Curtis followed you down the tunnel, that’s what I reckon, and found the goods and thought she was onto a real winner, probably passing them on to a mate. Then we moved them, which must have annoyed her and now she thinks I owe her for that. A business arrangement, that’s what she called it. So she can get rich, while all I get is to stay out of prison. I’ll see her dead and in hell first.’

  ‘Ben! Shh! You mustn’t say that, at least not in here.’ Miranda looked worried. ‘She can’t know much, it’s all speculation, just ignore her. You didn’t agree to pay her, I hope.’

  ‘Of course I didn’t, you stupid girl. But she does have some of the stock, she told me. It must have been Tanya who stole the goods.’

  ‘And that’s my fault, because I took Alice down the tunnel. Tanya must have followed us right to the end.’ Ben shook his head.

  ‘Never mind that, it’s far too late for saying I wish. We just have to make sure nothing comes of it.’

  ‘And how are we going to manage that?’

  Ben looked thoughtful and leaned in closer. ‘You know I said earlier we’d moved all the goods? Well, I’ve also told Wetherby I want out of the business, and he’s not very happy, but I reckon I can live without his approval. So, I’ve been thinking, it’s time I left Curdizan, time I moved on to someplace better. The Low isn’t great, it’s a dump, really, especially in summer, when the river and the middens stink to high heaven.’

  Miranda said nothing and Ben carried on.

  ‘I know I’m still young but I’m set in my trade and there’ll always be somebody dying somewhere, but if I’m to leave, I could go on my own but I’d much rather take a good friend with me. A friend I can trust, who’ll be loyal and true and who might someday be more than a friend. What do you say?’ Miranda looked stunned.

  ‘You mean me?’

  ‘Who else would I mean? I’m certainly not talking about Tanya Curtis.’ Miranda giggled.

  ‘I’m only eighteen.’

  ‘You told me once you’d be nineteen soon and you’re already tied to a pub and a factory. Always someone else’s skivvy, is that what you want for the rest of your life?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Miranda said, sounding sombre. Ben sat back.

  ‘Well, I’m going to go, I’ve made up my mind and you can come too, if you want to join me, that’s up to you. I know there are people you care about here, your ma and Tom and Mary-Ann Parks, but people move on, like Thomas will do, eventually, even if Carol and Scotty stay.’ He paused grimly.

  ‘You ought to get going while you can, Miranda. And I’m the best offer you’re going to get.’

  ‘Ha!’ said Miranda, standing up.

  ‘Where are you going?’ said Ben, alarmed.

  ‘I’m going for a walk to think things through. I’d like to say yes to you right this minute, but you’re asking a lot and I need to give it some serious thought. You’re not going to leave before I’ve decided?’

  ‘Not if you make your decision quickly. I want to go soon, now that I’ve made my mind up to leave.’ Miranda nodded.

  ‘I’ll let you know soon, and that’s a promise, but don’t you dare leave the Low without me.’ She smiled at Ben and he grinned at Miranda, watching her weave her way through the drinkers.

  His smile soon faded, what he’d told Miranda wasn’t the truth. He hadn’t even talked to Wetherby yet, let alone told his mate he was leaving. He didn’t like to think what Wetherby would say, when he finally found the courage.

  Chapter 92

  Now – Aleph

  Back in the cellar, inside the cupboard, the first thing we did was take out the shelves. The lighting was poor but we did have a torch, if not a very good one, the last one had died.

  ‘Anyone would think you’d done this before.’

  ‘I always wanted to be a ghost hunter, I grew up on things like Borley Rectory. I was only three when they found the body, I don’t remember anything about it. But it grew over time like stories do and became a part of our family history. I wished I’d been the one to find her.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ I told her, firmly.

  ‘Maybe not now, but I did back then, you know how kids are, they like ghoulish things. I always meant to follow it up, but life and work took over as usual.’

  ‘So long as this isn’t a quest for a story,’ I said sharply.

  ‘You’re so untrusting, Mr Jones,’ said Guinevere, smiling. ‘Pass me the screwdriver.’

  It didn’t long to remove the shelves. I could see at a glance that the boarding behind was very flimsy, badly put up and of poor quality. Guinevere poked around for a gap. ‘The best bet’s here,’ she said from the floor. ‘There’s a definite space, but I need to get a grip on this wood.’

  The space was where I’d once noticed a draught, I remembered that now. It almost seemed like a different lifetime.

  ‘There wouldn’t have been this cupboard, then,’ G
inny informed me. ‘The door we came through would have led to the passage, but someone back then must have blocked the space off with a couple of planks, and then with boarding, and after that, shelves.’

  How easy it was to disguise the past. And how easily undone.

  ‘Got it!’ said Guinevere, tugging hard and backing away from the wall, quickly. I stepped back too, to give her more room and suddenly there was a rending sound, like paper tearing, but ten times worse, the crumble of plaster, the clatter of nails, and a huge piece of boarding collapsed on the floor. Dust exploded into the room.

  ‘Hell,’ said Guinevere, gasping for breath. ‘Hand me the torch again, please, Aleph.’

  I did as she asked and stared at the gap she’d just uncovered. Sure enough, there was a passage, with a very low ceiling and smelling of mould. It looked uninviting.

  ‘Time to put the kettle on,’ I said, mildly.

  ‘Time to investigate further,’ said Ginny. We ventured slowly into the space.

  Guinevere shone the torch down the passage, as far as it went, which wasn’t that far. We investigated further, stumbling down the narrow tunnel until Guinevere spotted what looked like a door. ‘This will lead to the tunnel proper.’

  I had no reason to doubt her words. Surprisingly, the door was unlocked.

  ‘This won’t have been opened in sixty years,’ she told me, triumphant.

  ‘And maybe not now,’ I said, hopefully. The door was proving a little resistant. We saw a gap at the top by the ceiling and lifted it over a pile of rubble. The air beyond was even more dank.

  ‘I’ve had enough for the present,’ I said.

  ‘Curdizan Low’s to the right,’ said Ginny. She shone the torch on some steps to the left. ‘These probably once went to Curdizan Church. Now, they go nowhere, the church is long gone. And the route to the abbey too, I suppose. Now, right is the only way out of the tunnel.’

  ‘Or back,’ I said, ‘to the Old Schoolhouse. Where exactly was Mary-Ann found?’

  ‘In the passage we’ve come through, probably right behind the cupboard.’