by Linda Huber
He smiled when she said that. Little minx. She was well aware that she was doing something forbidden, even though she thought she knew enough about him to trust him. And what a good thing it was that she did trust him. They were going to have such a beautiful time together, just the two of them. Him and little Helen, it was beginning. Sweat trickled down his back.
He locked the dog in the car, using the tow rope from the boot to secure it to the back headrest, in case it ‘tried to climb into the front and hurt himself’. Little Helen was quite happy with this arrangement and he led her inside, a positive wave of relief crashing through him when he closed the door behind them. Success. She was here, and nothing would stop him now.
He’d pulled the heavy velvet curtains across most of the window so the living room was in semi-darkness, and little Helen looked round, straining to see the kittens.
‘Where are they? I can’t see them,’ she said.
‘They’re in the other room,’ he told her. ‘You sit down on the sofa and I’ll bring their box in to you. And I’m sure you’d like something to drink too, while you’re here.’
In the kitchen, he poured a small slosh of orange juice into the powerful sedative he’d prepared earlier and stirred the mixture. When he went back to the living room she jumped to her feet.
‘Shhh, nice and quiet,’ he said. ‘The kitties are still asleep, so you have your juice first and then I’ll bring them in. Here you are.’
He could see that she was uneasy now about being here. Did she sense that something wasn’t quite right, or was she merely starting to feel guilty about going away without telling her mother? It didn’t matter, of course. She was here, and she was going nowhere. Yet.
As soon as she raised the glass to her lips, he acted. It was child’s play to hold her head in his left arm and force the bitter liquid into her mouth with his right. She struggled, but he held on, waiting until she swallowed the dose. And oh, how sweet she was and how afraid.
‘It’s quite alright, darling. Just some extra vitamins,’ he said softly. ‘You sit down and have a piece of chocolate while I fetch the kitties.’
She stumbled backwards, trying to get away from him, and fell over the coffee table, a high-pitched whimper coming from her throat. Smiling gently he lifted her to her feet and pushed her down on the sofa where she cowered into the corner, sheer horror in her eyes now. He stood in front of her, taking his time unwrapping a bar of white chocolate. He would just pop a tiny piece in her mouth, he didn’t want her to choke. Her eyes, oh, this was so delicious, the sedative was working already and she was terrified, her eyes were wild and her whole body was shaking, but there was nothing she could do to resist him. Which was exactly as it should be, of course. He pulled the elastic bands from her pigtails and loosened her hair around her face and she made no move to stop him. There, that was much better. He stood and watched as she slumped into the sofa cushions, a glazed expression replacing the terror. He knelt in front of her and cupped her face with his hands.
‘The kitties are still fast asleep, little Helen,’ he whispered. ‘They’re so tired, and you’re tired too, aren’t you? You can have a nice little sleep, and when I get back we’ll have a lovely game of Paradise.’
She didn’t respond, and he pulled her down until she was lying flat. Her eyes were closed, and he stroked the hair back from her face, then ran his hands over her arms, over her flat little tummy and those long, sun-browned legs. She was nice and straight now, lying there like the beautiful princess she was. He knew she’d be right out of it for hours, there would be plenty of time for him to do everything that had to be done.
Whistling, he lifted the cord he had bought and tied her hands and feet firmly before covering her with the golden throw. His Queen. He had her here at last, and nothing must be allowed to go wrong.
A last look, a last touch, and he’d left her there to wait. He had to make sure that Plan B was still trundling along. But it would be, and oh, the anticipation of what was to come with little Helen...
Alicia
Alicia drove home as fast as she dared, feeling the car slide as she braked on the sparse gravel in front of the house. She had left both doors unlocked for Jen, but as soon as she stepped into the hallway she knew that no-one else was here. The house was deathly quiet. Then a scraping sound came from the kitchen, and she wrenched the door open. It was Moritz, chasing his ping pong balls around the tiled floor. And there on the kitchen table was the note, exactly as she’d left it. Alicia scooped the kitten up and ran outside.
‘Je - enny! Jenny! Home time!’ Her voice echoed round the garden. Jen must be expecting a call by now, surely she would hear a yell like that and come running up the garden.
But there was no answering shout, no sound at all from the woods. Coldness crept round Alicia’s heart as the trees remained silent, stretching mutely in front of her, seemingly unending. She stood by the summerhouse, anxiety tightening in her gut.
‘Je - enny! Con - ker!’
An even louder shout, and the same result. Alicia bit her lip. What should she do? Jenny could be anywhere up there.
The phone rang, making her jump, and she raced back inside. A smarmy voice inquired if she already had double glazing, and Alicia slammed the receiver down before lifting it again. She should call the neighbours in case Jen had gone there. Margaret’s address book was beside the phone and Alicia fumbled for the numbers. Neither the Campbells nor the Watsons were at home, and none of the Donovans had seen Jenny that day. Tears in her eyes, Alicia went back to the kitchen, clasping and unclasping her hands.
Moritz seemed to sense that all was not well, and wound himself round her ankles as she stood in the kitchen. On a sudden impulse Alicia phoned Jenny’s mobile again, but no, there it was still ringing upstairs. Then, in the distance, the church clock struck twelve.
Four chimes rang across the village, followed by twelve deep single notes. Right. She would go down to the very bottom of the garden where the woods began and shout again. Jenny must be able to hear that. She shut the kitchen door on Moritz’s indignant little face and jogged down the overgrown garden.
‘Je - enny! Con - ker!’
Three times she shouted, and three times the only reply was silence. No call from Jen, no deep growly bark. Nauseating dizziness gripped Alicia. If Jenny was up there she would, yes she would have heard her mother yelling like that. So where was she? Lying hurt somewhere? Had she fallen and banged her head? Or had she gone home, realised she’d been deserted and tried to walk to St. Joe’s? Shit, shit, the river pathway...
Alicia stumbled back to the house and grabbed her mobile. She needed help with this now. Doug? No. The police? No, Frank first.
‘Alicia?’ His voice crackled distantly in her ear. Sobbing, she told him what had happened.
‘Okay. Listen. I’ll get hold of Andy and John Sykes and we’ll search the woods. We’ll find her, don’t worry, she must be there.’
‘Frank, do you think, could she have tried to get to St. Joe’s by herself? Our neighbours are out... Jen knows you can walk to Middle Banford along the river pathway, suppose she tried that and fell in at the weir?’
His voice was doubtful. ‘She wouldn’t try to walk it, would she? She’ll still be up there. We’ll find her, Alicia. I’ll be with you in five minutes.’
He rang off, and Alicia paced up and down the kitchen. Maybe Jenny was still in the woods - maybe she was pretending not to have heard all that shouting. Although that was unlikely given that they were supposed to be visiting Kenneth Taylor and his wretched kittens and... had Jen gone to the pet shop by herself? Maybe she’d come home, seen the note and decided to carry on without her mother. It wasn’t quite impossible.
Her panic abating slightly, Alicia grabbed the phone book and rustled through the thin pages. Naturally, the pet shop wasn’t listed yet. Directory enquiries?
The sound of Frank’s car pulling up outside had her running to the front door.
‘She might have gone t
o the pet shop. Do you... ’
‘I’ve got his mobile number, hang on.’ Frank stood in the driveway manipulating his phone. ‘Kenneth, is Jenny Bryson with you? No? She hasn’t come home from the woods... yes, we’re going up now. She must be there... no, you stay put in case she does turn up at the shop.’
Fear crashed heavily into Alicia as Frank rang off. A Landrover arrived in the driveway before either of them could speak. The farmers Frank had asked to help were burly Yorkshiremen, father and son, and both would know the area well. Alicia trotted down the garden after them. Frank had brought his doctor’s bag, and John and Andy were carrying a rope and a tool box respectively. Alicia’s mind had gone numb, it was impossible to stay so afraid. Oh God, they would find Jenny, they would.
Nightmare scenarios played through her head. What if there had been an accident... Christ. It wasn’t even a week ago since searchers had been out here looking for her father, but this was incomparably worse.
‘Okay,’ said Frank. ‘We’ll walk uphill and cover as much ground as we can. What’s Jenny wearing, Alicia?’
‘Blue shorts and a yellow t-shirt,’ said Alicia, hearing her voice tremble.
‘Good, she should be fairly conspicuous among the trees. Let’s go.’
They fanned out and walked about twenty yards apart, calling Jenny’s name and looking into any large clusters of bushes they came across. Trees surrounded them after only a few steps, and the whole place was still. Alicia swallowed painfully. Apart from her feet thudding on the earthy pathway and the breeze stirring the tree tops, the only sounds were the myriads of insects buzzing around. Even the birds were silent. Old John stopped to examine a thicket of unripe blackberries, and then turned and looked back at Frank and then Alicia.
‘I don’t like the feel o’ the place,’ he said bluntly. ‘It seems to me like there’s no-one up here except the four of us.’
Alicia nodded. There was nothing to indicate that a little girl had passed this way. When they came to the circle of trees the three men stopped and looked around helplessly. Alicia sank down on the fallen tree trunk and buried her face in her hands. This was hopeless, they should phone the police. Frank yelled Jenny’s name and his voice reverberated through the trees before silence fell again. Alicia moaned aloud. Nature pure and simple, that was all there was out here. John dropped his rope beside a tree stump and sat down heavily, lighting a cigarette.
‘She’s not here, Doc. Or if she is, she’s being very quiet about it.’
‘Mrs Bryson!’ Andy had walked a little way across the clearing. He stooped and picked something lying beside a tall tree. Frank and John were hurrying over to see what it was, but Alicia took one look and knew.
‘A sandwich and an apple,’ said Andy, peering into the paper bag. ‘And some rasps in a tissue.’
‘It’s her picnic,’ said Alicia, hearing the panic in her voice. ‘She hasn’t eaten her picnic, she isn’t here and neither’s Conker... ’
‘Where the hell has she gone?’ said Andy, his big face suddenly pale.
‘We need to carry on,’ said Frank heavily. ‘We’ll go down as far as the back road. If she’s not there we’ll phone the police. Come on, Alicia, it won’t take five minutes, and the sooner we’re through these woods the sooner we’ll be doing something else to find her.’
He led the way, and they fanned out again. They weren’t covering all the wood, of course, but Alicia knew Jenny wouldn’t normally stray further afield than this. All she wanted now was to get to the back road and phone the police, which is what she probably should have done in the first place.
A low-pitched howling about fifty metres away made them all break into a run. Alicia stumbled and fell on the soft ground as she crashed through sparse undergrowth towards the sound. Frank hauled her to her feet and her thighs shrieked protest as she forced herself to run on through the trees.
The sound came again. But it wasn’t Jenny’s voice.
‘It’s a dog,’ Andy called.
Alicia ran the last few yards. Andy was bending over a brown dog by the side of the road. There was blood on his head.
‘Conker,’ she said, dropping to her knees and grabbing the animal’s collar. Conker was pathetically glad to see them. There was a long, bloody scratch on one ear, but he seemed otherwise unhurt.
Alicia forced herself to her feet and looked up and down the road. Andy and John were running in opposite directions, yelling Jenny’s name. Frank stood beside her, one arm round her shoulders as if he was afraid she would fall, and Alicia could feel his body trembling.
Minutes later the other men returned, and they stared at Alicia, both faces grim. There was no sign whatsoever that Jenny had been anywhere near here.
‘Thanks, lads, for all your help, but I think it’s time we called the police,’ said Frank slowly, reaching for his phone. Andy clapped his shoulder, and John stood shuffling his feet. Alicia literally couldn’t move. It was difficult even to breathe.
‘She’s been taken, hasn’t she?’ said Andy heavily, and Alicia moaned. No no no no, that couldn’t have happened. Jenny was here in the woods, she must be. She had gone further afield than usual and been unable to find her way back. Frank’s next words showed he was thinking along the same lines. Or was he simply trying to stop her panicking?
‘Alicia, she might still just be lost,’ he said, grasping her elbow and giving it a little shake. ‘She might have gone off somewhere by herself.’
Alicia jerked away from him. She would go mad, hanging around here waiting for the police. Frank’s home was minutes away.
‘Do you have a bike I could borrow?’ she demanded.
‘There’s one in the shed,’ Frank said. ‘What are you... ’
Alicia called back over her shoulder as she ran off down the road. ‘You wait for the police. I’m going to bike the river pathway.’
All three men stared after her as she raced off in the direction of Frank’s house.
Chapter Eighteen
Saturday, 22nd July, afternoon
Alicia
By the time Alicia reached Frank’s garden her chest was burning and her throat felt raw. Not bothering to wipe away the tears that were mingling with the sweat on her face, she ran straight to the shed and hauled out Frank’s bike. The path along the banks of the Ban was every mother’s nightmare, narrow in places and with no fence separating the river from the track. Jenny knew she shouldn’t go there alone, but she might have panicked if she hadn’t been able to phone for some reason...
Grimly, Alicia started back through the village, heading for Woodside Lane and the river pathway. It was hard going, the bike was too big for her and the tyres were slightly flat. But it was still quicker than running.
Drawing level with the pet shop she jerked to a stop. Kenneth Taylor would have phoned Frank if Jenny had turned up at the shop... wouldn’t he?
She pushed the bike across to the shop door.
‘Mr Taylor! Is Jenny there?’
He called from upstairs, something unintelligible, and she waited, seething with impatience. He was moving around in the room above her, what the hell was he doing? A minute passed and Alicia shouted again.
Kenneth Taylor appeared from the back shop, wiping his hands on a threadbare towel and looking embarrassed. He must have been in the loo. ‘Isn’t she found yet? Oh my.’
‘You haven’t seen her today?’
He stared at her, face shining and hands clasped below his chin. It almost looked as if he was praying. ‘Not at all. Is there anything... ’
Urgency was already pulling her on towards the river. ‘I don’t know. Call Frank. I’m going to search the river path now. Thanks.’
She could feel his eyes on her back as she forced the bike along to Woodside Lane before jumping off. The sound of the Ban was all too apparent as she pushed Frank’s bike down the steep track that led to the river pathway itself.
The Ban wasn’t just flowing today, it was crashing and surging over the rocks and stones
in its path and it was full, much more so than usual in July, swollen by all those heavy showers they’d had this past week. The ground was soft but Alicia could see no telling footprints. Surely Jen hadn’t come this way. But the only way to find out was to go all the way along the path to Middle Banford.
Conscious that she was panting, Alicia forced herself to bike at a steady pace along the rough, muddy trail. If she went hell for leather as her soul was shrieking at her to do, she might miss something, some small sign that her daughter had passed this way. But Jenny knew the river was strictly out of bounds, and she would never have ventured so far without Conker anyway. This was a futile quest but Alicia couldn’t stop herself. She had to be active, do something to find Jenny, even if it was futile.
If only Jen had simply wandered further than usual and was looking for blue fairy flowers. But that couldn’t be right because they’d found Conker right at the other side of the wood. Could it be that Jen had lost the dog and then got lost herself while she was looking for him? This was an optimistic thought that would guarantee a happy end to the whole nightmare. Alicia took a deep breath. Frank was right, kids had no sense of time, and with Conker lost there was no reason the child would leave the wood to come along the river pathway here.
Yes, it must have happened like that, this fear was just the neurotic mother in her taking control. And even if Jen had gone back to the house there was no reason she would have failed to phone with Margaret’s landline or her mobile. But then again she might have, in the anxiety of the moment, home alone with Conker lost and Mummy gone. The mobile was new and complicated and the landline was old-fashioned. Jen wasn’t used to either of them. And if she’d been in the woods at all, wouldn’t she have heard them all yelling her name? Oh God, suppose she was lying unconscious? The police would find her, but would they be on time? And every single one of these options was a million times better than the unthinkable. What if Jen had been taken?
