by Sam Short
“Did you enjoy it?” said Millie, getting her own hair back under control.
Judith brought the car to a halt next to a vibrant flowerbed, and applied the handbrake. “Did I enjoy driving a nineteen-seventy-two Triumph Spitfire, painted in original damson red, with the roof down, on the very type of British road it was originally designed to navigate? Let me think…” She gave a huge smile and pumped both fists above her head. “Hell yeah, I enjoyed it!”
Still laughing, Millie climbed out of her car and headed for the house. “We’d better wipe the smiles off our faces,” she suggested. “We’ve come to speak with Mrs Danvers about her missing husband. I think we should appear more solemn.”
Judith swiped a hand over her face, her smile replaced by a frown. “How’s this?” she said.
“Very solemn,” said Millie. “I like it.”
“Can I help you?” came a voice from Millie’s left. “I heard that awful sports car from a long way away. I hope there’s a good reason for this interruption of my peace? I was enjoying a book in the back garden. One of the classics — The Wind in the Willows.”
Millie turned to see the stern face of a woman who she estimated as being in her sixties, peering around the corner of the red brick building, her makeup perfect and her silver hair cropped short. She offered Mrs Danvers an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for the interruption,” she said. “We’ve come to talk with you about your missing husband. I believe Sergeant Spencer telephoned you and asked if it would be convenient?”
“Oh,” said Mrs Danvers, looking the two girls up and down. “You must be plain-clothes detectives?” She gave the girls another look, her lips pursed. “Very plain-clothes indeed.”
“No,” said Millie. “We’re not —”
Judith stepped past Millie. She opened the black wallet in her hand, and showed Mrs Danvers the badge inside. “Yes, Mrs Danvers. We’re detectives. Could you spare some time to speak with us, or would you like us to return at a time more convenient to yourself?”
Mrs Danvers nodded. “Yes, of course I have time. Anything to get to the bottom of what happened to poor Colin. Would you mind following me around the back of the house — to the garden? I never allow dirty shoes in my home, and I’m not sure asking you to remove them would suffice. It’s a warm day, and socks can become very sweaty. Who knows what manner of bacteria you might infest my beautiful wool Wilton with.”
“The garden is fine,” said Judith, casting a glance at her scruffy trainers. “We shouldn’t need to take up too much of your time. We need to keep our records updated, and unless you can provide us with any more information since you spoke to the police after Mister Danvers initially went missing, this is purely a formality, so please don’t get your hopes up.”
Millie followed Judith and Mrs Danvers along the pathway leading behind the house, and into the large garden, populated by mature trees growing from the well-kept lawn.
Cast iron garden furniture filled a portion of the paved patio area adjacent to a small pond, and Millie took a seat next to Judith as Mrs Danvers plucked a half-finished wine bottle from an ice-bucket on the table, and filled her empty glass. “I’d offer you some, but you’re on duty,” she stated. “Some say it’s too early in the day for alcohol, but I say as long as it’s approaching noon — it’s wine time.”
“Indeed,” said Judith, flipping open her file and removing the case paperwork pertinent to Mrs Danvers. She studied the paper for a moment, and looked up. “It says here that on the fourteenth of May, nineteen-eighty-nine, you came home from an evening with friends to discover your husband, a Colin Danvers, missing — along with a large proportion of his clothing, and the car. Is that correct, Mrs Danvers?”
Mrs Danvers sipped her wine, and gave a soft sigh. “Yes,” she said. “It was awful. Whoever kidnapped him and stole our car and his belongings, did an awfully good job. There was no sign of a struggle, and the police failed to find any forensic evidence of an intruder.”
“Kidnapped?” said Millie.
Mrs Danvers nodded. “Yes. Of course! The police didn’t agree with me — they believed Colin had simply upped and left, but that was impossible. Absolutely impossible!”
“Why?” asked Millie, allowing her mind to tease a few of Mrs Danvers’s emotions and thoughts from the violent barrage which spewed from the tormented woman’s mind. Millie filtered the thoughts quickly, and focussed on the ones which would allow her a glimpse into how the real Mrs Danvers operated.
Her heart sinking with sadness, Millie softened her expression and gave Mrs Danvers a gentle smile. “Why was it impossible?”
“Because he hadn’t finished his chores,” said Mrs Danvers. “Colin wouldn’t have left the dishes unwashed, and the clothes in the dirty laundry basket — no way! He enjoyed pleasing me, and he knew full well that not finishing chores was a sure-fire way to enrage me.” She took a long swallow of wine, and shook her head. “No. Colin didn’t just up and go! He was kidnapped — probably by a jealous man who wanted my heart for his own. But it hasn’t worked — I’ve never taken another man, and I never will. Colin needs me to be strong for him. Colin is out there somewhere, wishing he was at home with me, cooking my meals and nurturing me. I’ll wait for as long as it takes until he’s found!”
Millie tuned out of Mrs Danvers’s thoughts as another despairing salvo of emotions crossed the space between them. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying not to concentrate too hard on the dejected eyes disguised by cheery bright blue eyeshadow. “I’m sorry he was kidnapped, and I’m sorry we couldn’t find him.”
Judith shifted in her seat, and scanned the paper she was holding. “Erm, Millie,” she said, quietly. “We don’t think he was kidnapped, it says here that the police who investigated at the time believed without doubt that he had left his —”
“But now we believe he was kidnapped,” interrupted Millie. She glanced at Mrs Danvers. “I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to find him, but I’m certain that wherever he is, he knows you’re waiting for him, and that’s giving him the strength he needs to go on. He’d want you to be happy, though, so make sure you try to enjoy your life, Mrs Danvers.”
Her face crumpling, Mrs Danvers placed her glass on the table with a trembling hand, stood up, and stumbled towards Millie, bending at the waist and wrapping both arms around her. “Thank you,” she sobbed. “You’re the first person who’s ever understood. I’ll never forget you.”
The older woman’s tears hot against her cheek, Millie returned the hug. “Try and move on,” she said. “Colin would want it.”
Judith remained quiet for most of the short journey to the next appointment, but as Millie parked the car outside the small terraced house, she broke her silence. “What happened back there?” she said. “That was strange.”
Millie switched off the engine and closed her eyes. “Poor woman,” she said. “I tuned in to her thoughts —”
“You said you were only going to do that in extreme circumstances,” said Judith, with a frown.
“I know,” said Millie. “And I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t be doing it again in a hurry. I feel so sad. Mrs Danvers knows Colin left her, and she lives with that fact every waking minute of her life. She can’t admit it to anybody, though, and it’s breaking her — I could literally feel her despair. I could feel her emptiness — her will to live almost gone. She knew she’d treated Colin badly, and she regrets it. She’s one of those people, though — the sort who can never be wrong, and I think she’s totally lost her grip on reality.”
“But she’s living a fantasy,” said Judith. “Surely that’s not healthy?”
“It’s healthier than fully admitting to herself that she was such a terrible wife her husband left her,” said Millie. “I sensed that all she wanted was for somebody in authority to tell her what she wanted to hear. To tell her that her husband had been kidnapped, and that he had no choice in leaving her. She knew I didn’t really believe it, but the words were enough to calm her mind. It may h
ave been wrong of me, but I don’t care — she’s punished herself for twenty years, maybe she’ll have a few easier years ahead of her. I hope she will — her mind is a very tormented place at the moment.”
Judith put a hand on Millie’s arm. “Don’t tune into people’s thoughts, Millie. It’s not good for you.”
Millie smiled. “I won’t. I’m officially tuning out from this second on.” She opened her door. “Come on, let’s get this interview over with, so we can go home.”
Judith stepped out of the car and consulted the paperwork in her file. “This should be simple. The mother vanished thirty years ago, both the police and the family believe she moved abroad, but no solid proof was ever found. This won’t take long. It’s another formality — we’ll be in and out, and then maybe we could head back to your cottage and enjoy some wine on that lovely little patio of yours which overlooks the sea and is always in the sun — not that I’m jealous, of course.”
Millie laughed. “You know you’re welcome whenever you like, but yes, wine on the patio sounds like a grand idea!”
“So let’s make this quick,” said Judith, knocking on the door and taking a step backwards.
Within half a minute, the door was opened by a smiling man holding a dog’s lead. He barked an order at the little dog at his feet, and the terrier stopped its yapping immediately, sitting dutifully as it stared up at the two visitors. “Yes?” asked the man. “Can I help you?”
“We’re here to speak to you and your wife about the disappearance of your wife’s mother,” explained Judith. “I’m assuming you’re Mister Harris?”
“Oh yes!” said the man. “But call me Chester, please. The sergeant phoned Jill last week and asked if it would be okay.” He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “I explained to the sergeant that Jill took a long time to come to terms with the sudden disappearance of her mother, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t raise her hopes about ever finding her.”
“You have our word,” said Millie. “This is purely a formality. We’re here to see if you or your wife have any additional information we can add to the case notes — we’re not here to deliver any fresh information of our own.”
The man smiled. “Well, come on in. I was just about to take little Harry here for a walk, but that can wait.”
“It won’t take long,” said Judith, following the man into the house, bending to pat the dog on the head. “Just a couple of quick questions.”
Chester led them through the house and into the kitchen, where a woman wearing casual clothing stirred something on the stove. Chester went to her side and put a hand on her arm. “These young ladies have come to speak to us about your mother, Jill,” he said.
“Oh! I wasn’t expecting you today. The sergeant didn’t give us a date,” said Jill, placing a lid on the pot and wiping her hands on a tea-towel. “I’d have been a bit more presentable had I known you were coming, and I certainly wouldn’t have been cooking!”
Millie sniffed the air, her nostrils tingling. “Curry?” she asked.
“Chester’s favourite," Jill confirmed. “Lamb vindaloo. Not for the faint of heart.” She moved an open newspaper from the table in the centre of the room. “Take the weight off your feet,” she offered. “Tea, coffee? A cold drink?”
“No thank you,” said Judith, sitting down. “We won’t take up much of your time. This is just a formality. We need to keep our records updated.”
“Naturally,” said Jill, pushing at the little dog as he jumped up at her knee. She glanced at her husband. “Harry needs his walk,” she said, taking a seat next to Millie. “I can deal with this. Why don’t you take him out and see if you can get a glimpse of the monster on the beach?”
Chester shook his head and sat down. “No,” he said, squeezing his wife’s hand. “I’ll take him later. He’s been out once already today. This is important. The so-called monster can wait.”
“Monster?” said Millie.
“That’s what Mrs Jordan is calling it,” said Jill. “She was walking her dog and managed to catch a glimpse of it before they cordoned off the area and hid it beneath a tent. The expert at the beach told her it’s just a dinosaur, but Mrs Jordan telephoned me and said that men dressed in black arrived in a black van with tinted windows, and apparently people aren’t allowed within half a mile of the skeleton. They wouldn’t do that for a simple dinosaur skeleton, surely? It’s all very exciting.”
“We’ve been busy,” said Judith, glancing at Millie. “We hadn’t heard about all the fuss.”
Chester tutted, his heavy eyelids drooping as he rolled his eyes. “It’s just a dinosaur,” he said. “We’re on the Jurassic Coast. I’m sure there are plenty of monsters buried on that beach, and I’m sure it won’t be the last one they find. The sooner they dig it up and take it away, the better. We don’t want Spellbinder Bay turning into some sort of monster hunting carnival attraction! Not just that, either — there are rare protected flowers growing next to that beach — it would be a shame to have fossil hunters digging in the dunes and damaging them. It’s illegal, too — those flowers are not to be disturbed! They’re protected by law! They’re more important than old bones.”
Jill flicked a strand of long brown hair from her face. “You and your rare flowers!” She smiled at Millie. “Who’d have thought that such a beefy man would be so fond of seaside flowers? Well, I think the monster is exciting,” she said. She looked at the file in front of Judith. “But I’m sure you’ve got far more important things to be doing than talking about monsters,” she said with a smile. “Please carry on, and ask what you need to ask.”
Judith opened the file and looked at the case notes. “I just need you to run over what happened, and tell me if there’s anything more you need to add.”
“No. There have been no more developments,” said Jill, looking down. “My mother simply vanished. She lived here with me and Chester.” She glanced around the kitchen. “This was her house. Is her house. Chester and I were married young — in our twenties, and when Chester lost his job we couldn’t afford a home of our own, so Mum took us in. She was kind like that. Is kind like that.”
Chester placed a big hand over his wife’s. “She was very kind to me. Like you are.”
Jill smiled. “I knew she was speaking to a man,” she said. “A married man. A Canadian chap. They’d met when he was over here working, and had stayed in touch by phone and letters when he went home. He would send her gifts, too. I think she loved him. I’m sure she loved him, but I never expected her to just up and leave to be with him. Not without telling me, at least.”
Judith scanned the case notes. “It says here that a suitcase full of clothes had gone from her bedroom, along with her passport. The police believe she moved to Canada to be with the gentleman in question, but failed to track him or your mother down. There was no record of her passport being used, but in those days security wasn’t so tight,” she said. “She could have left the country without leaving a trail.”
“Mum was ill,” Jill said. “Mentally ill. We’re sure she suffered from bipolar, but back then the doctors still referred to it as manic-depression. It wasn’t a nice thing to be diagnosed with, so Mum never saw a doctor about it. We think she had it, though. Has it. Some of the choices she made in life must have been down to an illness. They’d have made no sense otherwise.”
“She was always making rash decisions,” said Chester. “I wasn’t surprised that she would just move to Canada without informing anybody. She could be very cunning, too — when in the grip of a manic phase. She could have sneaked out of the country easily. I really wasn’t surprised that she’d done it.”
“Me neither, if I’m honest,” said Jill. “It would be nice to know if she’s okay, though. She’ll be in her seventies now. I’d like to know how she is. She had terrible rheumatoid arthritis. It was bad back then, poor woman. I’d imagine she’s in an awful lot of pain these days.”
“And there’s been no more information in the ye
ars since?” asked Millie, tickling Harry’s head beneath the table, smiling as the little dog licked her hand.
“Nothing at all,” said Jill. “We’ve got used to it. I don’t think about it as much as I once did. I try and keep it out of my mind. I just hope she’s happy.”
Judith closed her file. “I won’t ask you any more about it. We’ll leave you both to enjoy your day. I don’t want to drag up the past unnecessarily.”
Jill smiled. “Thank you for your time. It’s nice to talk about her sometimes.” She glanced at Judith’s folder. “If you update the case notes, could I have a copy? I sometimes need proof that Mum is missing when official letters arrive for her. In the year she reached retirement age, I had some problems with the people from the pensions office. She’s never been declared as dead, you see. And for a good reason.”
“Of course!” said Judith. “We’ll only be adding the fact that we’ve spoken to you again to the records, but we’ll hand deliver a copy to you when the sergeant you spoke to on the telephone has updated them.”
“Thank you,” said Jill. “I appreciate it.”
Millie drew to a halt at the entrance to her track leading to her cottage. She stared at the man standing in the road, who was ordering her to stop with an outstretched arm. “What does he think he’s doing?” she said.
“I’ll ask him,” said Judith, standing up. With no roof impeding her progress, Judith stood with both hands on the top of the windscreen and shouted at the man. “Oi!” she yelled. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The man lifted the brim of his black baseball cap and levelled his sunglasses in Judith’s direction. “Nobody is allowed past this point,” he said.
“What do you mean?” said Millie. “I live in that cottage over there. In fact, I own all this land, all the way to the lighthouse! You’re standing on my land, trying to stop me entering my own property!”
The man approached the car, speaking into a radio as he walked. “The owner of the cottage is here,” he said. “She’s with somebody else. Should I let them through?”
