by Fay Sampson
‘No,’ Frances said. ‘That’s why he’s waiting. I’m kicking myself now for sending Millie to her. I thought it was too late now for Kevin to arrive tonight. But he’s clever. He could see you were lying about leaving Millie at the pub. He knows Tamara’s here.’
‘All the more reason they need protection.’
‘Shouldn’t we call the police?’ Suzie asked.
‘And tell them what? We suspect my famous and much-loved brother of being about to murder his daughter? They’re going to ask why.’
It came out as a reluctant whisper. ‘To avoid being arrested for incest with a minor? That’s rape.’
France’s eyes widened. But she neither confirmed nor denied it.
Suzie winced. ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘We had the same problem when we thought it was Leonard Dawson. Who would have believed us?’
‘We have to tough it out for a while.’ Frances was suddenly decisive. ‘Until his boat leaves. Then we’ll need to think fast what to do.’
‘What if he doesn’t go? He could stay there all night.’
‘Look,’ Nick said, with sudden decision. ‘I’m going down to that boat. I can’t bear the thought that he might have sloped off into the woods without us seeing him. It’s getting darker by the minute. What if he creeps up and finds them on their own? We can only just see the bows from here. He could have got them aboard already, while we’ve been sitting here.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ Suzie jumped to her feet, glad to have something to do.
Frances stood too, looking away into the woods. It was becoming harder to distinguish one tree from another. ‘Maybe when it gets fully dark, I could risk going to get them. I only wish their hideaway was further from the river. I hadn’t planned for this.’
Suzie turned, startled. ‘Could he see it from his boat?’
‘He might. If he looked in the right place. Let’s hope he hasn’t. It’ll be fully dark in a while, but there’ll be a biggish moon later. I might have a couple of hours to get them out without his seeing. As soon as it’s safe, I’ll need to drive them somewhere further away, but I can’t think where. Give me your mobile number, Nick, and I’ll ring you when we’re far enough away to breathe easily.’
‘Then we need to get to that launch. He won’t be able to get ashore if he knows we’re watching him. If we’re not too late already.’
Nick set off, striding down the gentle slope towards the water.
Suzie hurried after him. The trees were widely spaced below the house. The grey of the river was merging with the fields beyond. She could just make out the white bows of the launch. The rest was hidden by bushes. The cabin light still glowed.
They came out on a wooden landing stage. The trim launch lay alongside. The waterside was very quiet. Across the river came the snort of an animal she could not identify. A cow, a horse? There was no sound from the boat.
‘Are you looking for someone?’
The voice startled them from the far end of the landing stage. A figure stood up from the bollard where he had been sitting, half screened by tall rushes. Reynard Woodman, hands in pockets. His smile in the twilight seemed assured.
‘You.’ Nick’s usually easy tone was decisive. ‘There’s no need for you to remain here. Frances has made it clear you’re not welcome.’
‘Frances?’ Reynard mimicked him. ‘It hasn’t taken you long to get on first name terms with my sister. Let me put it, at the risk of considerable understatement, that I’ve known her longer than you have. We have our differences. Sibling rivalry. Especially lately. I fancy she envies my success. But we understand each other. She’s made her point. She has the upper hand for the moment. Tamara came to her, not to me. A woman thing, you see. But if I let Fran cool off, and I go back suitably humble, she’ll see it my way. She always does, in the end.’
Suzie found she was crossing her fingers. This was a dangerous conversation. It would be so easy for Nick to admit Tamara’s presence at the house without meaning to.
She took the initiative. ‘Frances has already told you Tamara’s not here. You’re wasting your time.’
‘Oh, Suzie.’ His tone was gently reproachful. ‘You’re no better at lying than your husband. She’s here, all right. And Millie. Not actually in the house, perhaps. But . . .’ He looked meaningfully around at the wood behind him. ‘I don’t remember the layout, but I do know Fran has a number of rustic bowers, gazebos, what have you, where she can sit and enjoy the great outdoors. The Secret of Humbledown Forest wasn’t entirely my own invention, you know. This was always a magical place for children. Mine used to love it. Great place for hide-and-seek.’
Suzie followed his eyes to the darkening acres of foliage and tree trunks. She could imagine how it would be in daylight. Sunlight dappling the floor between the trees. Winding paths. Perhaps there would be unexpected statuary in a glade round the next corner. Cousins of that stone dragon and troll in the porch? Wind chimes on the branches? A yew tree clipped into the semblance of a castle?
Her eyes travelled upwards. She caught her breath. Immediately, she regretted it, hoping she had not given herself away. There was something there. She was almost sure of it. To the right of the house, but higher, where the wood swept up over a mound fronting the river. A glimmer of white. A summer house, perhaps?
Could this be Frances’s ‘hideaway’? Were the girls there?
Fear clenched her throat. How could Reynard not have seen it?
It was overlooking the river, well hidden from the road and the track. Frances had expected her brother to come by car.
She was sure the others must hear her heart hammering in her chest. Every instinct made her want to race up through the trees and warn the girls.
Instead, with a tremendous effort, she turned back to the men on the landing stage. ‘Hide-and-seek? I don’t think your daughter’s playing games. She’s in a serious situation. Wherever she is, I hope someone’s looking after her.’
‘How very maternal. It’s a pity her own mother couldn’t have done that for her.’
‘Tamara was frightened of her stepfather. He beat her.’
‘There certainly seems to be something in her home circumstances she was running away from, poor sweetheart. I gather from what you said that she doesn’t even want her best friend Millie to know where she is. Rather curious, don’t you think? You know what teenage girls are like. Perpetually on the phone to each other. All the gossip, the heartbreaks, the secret plans. But not with Millie. I wonder, why was that?’
‘Tamara was probably afraid she might inadvertently write or do something which would enable her to be traced,’ Nick said. ‘Which, in the end, she almost did.’
Reynard seemed to ignore him. He spoke directly to Suzie. His voice was more serious now, deep with sympathy. ‘Nick’s very concerned about Tamara, isn’t he? I remember when the girls were small, he was always very ready to include her in your family outings. Tamara, poor love, has conceived a child. And she won’t tell anyone whose it is. Especially Millie. Think about that, Suzie.’
The bottom seemed to drop out of Suzie’s stomach. She felt as though she was falling down a dark pit. It was an outrageous suggestion. One which had never even crossed her mind. And yet . . .
Nick had been very concerned, even angry, when he heard about Tamara’s pregnancy, right from the first. She had assumed he was imagining how he would feel if it were Millie. He’d been quick to put suspicion on to others. The coach Dan Curtis, Leonard Dawson. Even, for a moment, Alan Taylor at church. It had been his decision, before she had thought of it, to come racing up to the Midlands to find Tamara.
She shook her head wildly, as though she’d blundered into a spider’s web. ‘That’s preposterous! How dare you even suggest such a thing?’
‘For two pins –’ Nick’s voice was steely – ‘I’d knock you off this landing stage into the river. That’s a libellous suggestion.’
‘Not libel, dear boy. I haven’t put it in writing. Slander, for the spoken wor
d. But I’m beginning to guess what slanderous scenario you and Frances have been cooking up behind my back. Does she suspect I’m the father? Is that why she won’t let me see Tamara? That really would be monstrous. My own daughter. And just when she’s in desperate need of a caring parent.’
Suzie felt her cheeks flaming and hoped the dusk would hide it. That was what they had been imagining. She had tried to tell herself how unlikely that was. But Nick and Tom had persuaded her. And Frances’s behaviour had seemed to confirm it.
What if they had got it completely wrong?
Should she apologize?
Her mind scrabbled for something that would defuse the situation. ‘You know, there are stories of runaways from the past that have haunted me. There was an apprentice. John Ching of Marwood, “having a base-born child now chargeable upon the parish”, did a runner. The Overseers of the Poor were offering a guinea to anyone who caught him. They even advertised his description, right down to his left cheek scarred by the King’s evil – that’s smallpox.’
‘Suzie!’ Nick protested. ‘Is this really the time to bring up family history?’
‘It’s just that there were children then, desperately unhappy, running away. And people hunting them down. And he was already marked for life. Even if we find Tamara, she’ll be scarred now.’
In the silence that followed, they could hear the current whispering along the hull.
Then she heard Nick’s feet shift on the boards, his catch of breath.
‘Where’s Petronella?’ he asked.
Only then did it strike Suzie. All the time they had been talking on the landing stage, there had not been a sound from the launch. Lamplight glowed through the curtains of the cabin. There had not been a flicker of movement inside.
‘Ah, Pet.’ Reynard smiled in the dusk. ‘I really couldn’t tell you. But as I told you before, Pet knows which side her bread is buttered on. She’s remarkably good at seeing that I get what I want.’
TWENTY-SEVEN
Suzie’s body froze. Thoughts ricocheted around the walls of her mind. She didn’t know what to believe now. She had almost convinced herself that Frances had made a horrifying misjudgement of her brother. That Reynard was indeed a concerned father, desperate to find his daughter and give her what help he could. She had even, God forgive her, allowed herself a moment of doubt about Nick. Frances was right about one thing: he was a persuasive storyteller.
But what did his last words mean, accompanied by that mocking smile? Words that were capable of a chilling meaning.
Pet? Where was she?
And where were the girls?
Only one possibility formed itself in her mind. Pet must be in these woods, intent on doing whatever Reynard wanted.
What did he want?
She stared at him wide-eyed. Could he really be the father of Tamara’s baby?
The consequences crept coldly through her brain. That Tamara and her unborn baby would quietly disappear from his life – that charmed life of the best-selling author, the children’s hero, the genial wizard. The Secret of Humbledown Forest. The image of everything wholesome and innocent.
Tamara’s baby could shatter that.
How long had Pet been gone?
She realized she was staring into Reynard’s eyes. He must read her shock.
Fear released her muscles. She turned for the wood. Nick was a jump ahead of her. He was already off the landing stage and on to the grassy bank.
Reynard laughed softly. ‘For a couple who were so adamant that Tamara wasn’t here, you seem remarkably keen to check on her safety.’
‘If you harm one hair of her head . . .’ Nick swore.
‘Or Millie’s,’ Suzie choked.
He spread his hands, as if to demonstrate his innocence. ‘I simply want my daughter back. Is that so terrible?’
Again, doubts checked Suzie’s nightmare.
But Nick was setting off at a swift pace. He seemed to be heading for the house, though. To check with Frances where she had hidden the girls? To put Reynard off the scent?
She ran after him.
Nick waited until the hawthorn bushes screened them from the boat. He drew her aside. ‘Wait here. I need to know if he leaves the boat. Or if Petronella comes back, with or without Tamara.’
‘What can she do? She’s not very big, and there are two of them.’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea. But whatever it is, I don’t think it’s going to be good for Tamara’s health.’
She pulled him to her, smelling the sweat of the day from his warm shirt. She whispered, ‘Did you see it? Over there, on a little hill in the wood. Something white. It could be a summer house. I wondered if that was the hideaway Frances was talking about.’
‘I missed that,’ he murmured. ‘But it’s worth a try. Quicker than going to the house. I wish I knew how much of a start she had.’
‘Hurry. I’ll ring you if anything happens here.’
She hadn’t wanted to stay. It was scary, being so near the boat. Knowing that Reynard was still there, but not understanding what was in his mind.
A little breeze got up, rustling the reeds.
It was ridiculous to be frightened for herself. A pregnant Tamara might be a threat to the fantastic house of cards he had built from his fiction. The fame, the wealth, the admiration. But Suzie was no more to him than a suspicious woman, no longer young. Just Millie’s mother. And how many ‘accidents’ could he get away with, she told herself bravely.
She imagined Nick running through the trees in the almost-dark. Was he heading for the right place? Who would he find when he got there? Was he already too late?
For the second time that evening, Reynard Woodman’s voice shocked her.
‘Poor Suzie. He’s left you alone in the dark, has he? With a man he suspects of having violent intentions? Not very chivalrous.’
His smile gleamed white in the reflected light of the river. There was a softness in his voice. It sounded like pity.
A flicker of resentment ran through her. Why had Nick been so ready to run off and leave her alone in the twilight?
Reynard seemed to understand that. ‘Wouldn’t you like to come aboard and do your sentry duty in comfort? I could rustle up a gin and tonic for us both.’
‘It’s not dark,’ she said, like a quarrelsome child.
It was true. There was still some light over the river.
Blood pounded in her throat. She did not want to go on board with him. Even though her fear of him was irrational.
‘Oh, Suzie. Isn’t this all just a tad ridiculous? We’re old friends.’
He was putting her own thoughts into words. And it was the old friendly smile, though she could barely see the crinkling around his eyes.
But she was afraid of that smile now. Afraid that she would succumb to its magic, as so many people did. Millie, Tamara, the black-haired Pet.
Scolding herself for being an idiot, she turned without replying and began to walk away. Nick had told her to watch the boat, but she couldn’t. She dared not stay, alone with Reynard Woodman, while night closed in around them.
Suzie sped up the gentle slope with what dignity she could manage. She felt a mixture of guilt and frustration. Nick had set her to watch the boat. They had to know if Reynard left it, or Pet came back. Most of all, if Pet returned with Tamara. Her mind recoiled from thinking what that might mean.
But she was too afraid, and too humiliated by her own fear, to stay with Reynard. It made her hot to think that, even now, he was probably laughing at her. He had outwitted her, the clever red fox. She could barely admit to herself how much she still wanted him to think well of her. To earn that smile. It was easy to see how he could enchant so many millions of fans.
He had been mocking her fears. He knew what she thought he had done. Instead of exploding with rage, he had poked fun at her.
It was not the way a guilty man would behave. Was it?
She had no clear idea where she was going. The path twisted round
bushes and trees. She came round a corner and almost stumbled over something grey in the grass.
She bent over and let her hand trace its contours. A stone dwarf peered up at her. The twilight made enigmatic shadows of his eyes. He was grinning at her.
What did she really know about the Gambles’ tangled relationships? It was all guesswork.
Like her family tree. It might all be a fiction. It only needed one undiscovered family secret. A child whose father was not who the records said he was. It must have happened. She would never know.
She must get control of herself. Nick was depending on her. She must find a higher spot from where she would have a view of the river and watch the boat from there. It was growing harder as the dusk deepened. But if she did not retreat too far, she should still see movement on the landing stage, where the light lingered longest along the river.
She set off again, angling closer towards where she thought the summer house was. Now that she was in the wood, she could no longer see it. The upward slope was all that guided her. She must stop as soon as she came to a clearing that overlooked the river.
She was conscious of her own rapid breathing, of the rustle of foliage as she pushed up the narrow, half-overgrown path. It seemed to be getting louder.
It was only slowly that she realized it was not just the sound of her own progress. Someone was rushing through the bushes ahead. Feet thudding on the path. Whoever it was, was running towards her.
She leaped aside, crouching to hide until she could see who it was. Petronella? Running from what? Her heart raced as she pictured the possibility of the scene the young woman might have left behind. Why was she in such a frantic hurry to get away? Suzie’s mind screamed that Nick had found the summer house too late.
A hurtling figure came clearly into sight through the shadows. The glimmer of a pale T-shirt. Short white hair.
‘Millie!’
Suzie leaped upright, blocking the path so fast that her daughter cannoned into her.
Millie screamed, in the second before her brain caught up with reality. ‘Mum?’ she gasped. ‘What are you doing here?’
Suzie gripped Millie’s arms. ‘Where’s Tamara? Why have you left her on her own? What’s happened?’
