The Paradise Trees

by Linda Huber

Alicia arrived at the narrow bridge that spanned the river and dismounted. The pathway continued on the other side. Murky dark water was only inches below her feet as she pushed the bike to the other side. The tight knot of fear was still making her gut spasm, and she spat sour saliva into the river where it was immediately swirled away. She had never been so afraid, she would have given everything she owned just to have Jenny back where she belonged.

  The path was still deserted, and here was the weir, white water crashing down before continuing along at a more sedate pace. What if Jen had fallen in...

  The thought was pure torture, and Alicia sobbed aloud. Past the weir, no sign of a small girl. And there in the distance was St. Joe’s, she could see the two upper storeys.

  The pathway came to an end and Alicia found herself biking through an area of parkland which brought her to the main street in Middle Banford. The entrance to St. Joe’s was about two hundred yards to the left. And no Jen. What was happening with the police? Why hadn’t Frank phoned her yet? Legs shaking, Alicia lowered herself down on a wooden bench under an oak tree. She pulled her mobile from her pocket and was about to make the connection when it rang in her hand.

  ‘Frank? I’m in Middle Banford, she’s not here. Have you found her?’

  She could hear his breathing. ‘Alicia, I’m sorry, no, we haven’t. The police have arrived and they’re organising a full-scale search of the woods and the village too. You go to St. Joe’s and tell Margaret, I’ll deal with things here and then come to you as soon as I can.’

  ‘Oh my God. Jenny. I can’t lose her, Frank.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I have to speak to the police again now. I’ll see you very soon, Alicia.’

  Her mobile cracked in her ear as he ended the call.

  The Stranger

  There had been no time for lunch today, but of course food was the last thing on his mind. Now he had time for a few stolen minutes to check that his little sleeping beauty was alright. He couldn’t wait for the evening when he’d have hours to enjoy her, in fact he could hardly believe that this was actually happening, that his plan had worked so perfectly. He felt like a child who had wanted a toy for weeks and months on end, and then suddenly, there it was under the Christmas tree.

  He closed the flat door behind him and crept into the dimness of the living room. Little Helen was still fast asleep under the golden robe, her cheeks flushed and her breathing nice and steady. What a darling she was. Life just didn’t get any better than this.

  Carefully, almost reverently he removed the throw and checked that she wasn’t cold. Just looking at her lying there, waiting for him, made him feel warm himself, the sweat was trickling down his neck and his hands were shaking. Now that he had little Helen here, he could see how glorious it was to have a child...

  Yet Mummy hadn’t thought so, had she? Maybe because he’d been wicked? A bad little boy? But wouldn’t a mother forgive her child any little wickednesses? He paused, staring at the child lying in front of him. Could Mummy have been wrong not to love him like he loved little Helen? No, Mummy had been perfect. But even if she hadn’t been, he would forgive her anything. She was Mummy, and parents and children forgave each other, yes yes yes.

  Slowly, he slid to the floor until he was kneeling beside little Helen and gazed at her, her face, her neck, the movement of her chest as she breathed in and out under that awful yellow t-shirt, her skinny little hips and long legs. She was completely in his power. How he wished he had more time for her now, but it was important that he behaved exactly as he would normally. No-one must know that he wasn’t alone here today. He kissed her brow.

  ‘I’ll soon be back, darling,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse. ‘And I promise you we’ll play for a long, long time before you go to Paradise.’

  Little Helen slept on, and tears came to his eyes. He could hardly bear to leave her.

  Alicia

  Alicia sat on the bench staring at her mobile. A low-pitched humming had started somewhere in the background, or maybe it was inside her head, and she was aware that the colours of the world around her – the trees, the grass, the sky – were changing into metallic, silver-hued shades. Her whole world was moving, and the child in her head was crying no, no, but all Alicia could do was sit staring at her mobile on this hard wooden bench and try to hold herself together. Jenny wasn’t there. The police were out searching.

  It hurt even to breathe now. Alicia leaned her arms on her knees and tried to take slow, steady breaths. It was unbearable not knowing where her little girl was. Lost in the woods or lost somewhere else...

  She was only eight years old.

  Trembling, Alicia wheeled the bike towards St. Joe’s. It was just down the road and she had to get to Margaret. Margaret was family, and oh, how she needed her family. How she needed her little girl.

  Alicia’s mobile rang again and her fingers were stiff as she extracted it from her pocket. It was the police inspector...

  ‘We’re still searching the wood, Mrs Bryson. Could you tell me exactly when Jenny left home this morning?’

  Alicia felt slow and stupid as she struggled to think. ‘Just after nine, I think.’

  ‘And did anyone apart from yourself see her go?’

  His voice was neutral but Alicia still winced. ‘My aunt. We were both in the kitchen when Jen left, and we were home together until we drove to St. Joe’s later on.’

  There was a brief silence. ‘Right. We’re setting up an incident room in the village hall and Detective Superintendent Graham will be in touch with you later too. We’ll take a full statement soon.’

  Alicia closed her eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks, salty warm liquid trickling down to drip off her chin, God she was so cold.

  She hadn’t felt this alone since... since she was sixteen and sitting on a bus driving along this same road, away from her father. She had gone to Margaret then and that was where she was going now.

  She arrived at the care home, and ran through the ward door, along to her father’s new room.

  ‘Alicia? What is it? What’s happened?’

  It was Margaret’s voice and she could feel Margaret clutching her arm, but she was quite unable to answer. The colours had gone funny again, and though she could see her father in his hospital bed and Margaret’s concerned face gazing into her own, somehow she had moved right away from them. There was a humming noise in her head again and she could only clutch Margaret and stare at her helplessly.

  Suddenly there were other people there too, Derek and Laura and another nurse, crowding round her, pushing her onto a chair. It took an enormous effort, but she managed to speak to them, tell them what was wrong.

  ‘Jen’s not in the woods. We found her picnic and we found Conker. Frank’s there with the police now.’ She pressed her hands between her knees and bent right over until her head was inches away from her thighs. The humming noise was getting louder and she could feel moist heat on her hands as her breath caught raggedly. Oh God she was so afraid, when had she ever been so afraid?

  The child in her head was crying. Don’t, Daddy, please don’t!

  She had been scared that day too. As a little, little child, surely the young voice had been that of a two or three year old this time... she had been this terrified. What had happened that day?

  Margaret’s face was white, she had never looked so horrified. Her voice was a mere whisper. ‘Oh no, Alicia. Where can she be?’

  ‘Careful, Margaret, let’s give Alicia some space, she’s had a shock. Laura, get some tea and see if you can get hold of Doug Patton. Alicia, what did Frank say?’ Derek was bending over her, gripping her shoulder. She could feel the strength of his hand, thank God he was here. He sounded normal, reassuring, even, but she couldn’t take any comfort from his voice.

  Still shaking, she forced herself to sit straight and talk. It took a moment or two, but she managed to repeat what Frank had said as well as she could remember.

  The child in her head had retreated into the backgro
und and was whimpering quietly. Laura appeared with a mug of sweet tea and Derek was holding it to her lips, making her drink it. She swallowed once and tried to push the mug away, but he wouldn’t let her. After a few sips she realised it was helping, and reached out to take the mug herself.

  ‘Good. That’s better,’ said Derek. ‘You’ve got to get hold of yourself, Alicia. If Jenny’s lost or hurt she might need you later. I think we should all go through to the relatives’ room and wait for Frank there. Laura, you stay with Bob. Did you find Doug Patton?’

  Laura was helping Margaret to her feet. ‘I bleeped him.’

  I don’t want Doug here. The words went through Alicia’s brain but she could no longer speak. All she wanted to do was scream, but that was one luxury she couldn’t allow herself because Derek was right. Jenny might need her soon, and she would need a sensible, reassuring Mum, not a nervous wreck. She stood up, finding her balance on the floor that wasn’t quite steady beneath her, and allowed Derek to steer her along the green corridor where old Mr French was still sitting picking a hole in his cardigan.

  The door of the relatives’ room was open, and Alicia winced at the sight of the wooden chairs and the drinks machine. She shouldn’t be here. She should be out there searching right now.

  ‘Derek. Listen. Please.’

  She almost sounded like herself, which surprised even her because she had never felt less like Alicia in her whole life. But then, her daughter had never been missing before. For more than eight years, Alicia had always known where Jenny was and who she was with. School, Brownies, swimming club. She had worried about the swimming club at first. Would they be able to watch all the children? Suppose something happened and there weren’t enough adults around? And of course nothing ever did happen and there were always plenty of adults. How futile those fears seemed now. She gripped Derek’s arm.

  ‘I should speak to the police. I have to go and help find her.’

  Derek patted her shoulder. ‘I know. But let’s wait for Frank first. You’ll want to hear what he has to say, and then we’ll organise someone to take you.’

  They sat in silence, Alicia clutching Margaret’s hand with both her own. They weren’t a touch-feely kind of family, she thought stupidly, and here she was holding on to Margaret for dear life. She couldn’t ever remember holding her own mother’s hand like this, and it went without saying that she had never held hands with her father. The worry over Jenny had completely eclipsed the worry over what her father had done to her. He just wasn’t important, and to be quite brutal about it he was almost gone now anyway, whereas Jenny was right at the start of her life, still in that innocent magical time of childhood when the sun shone all summer.

  And the worst thing of all was what no-one was saying. They all said she must be in the woods still, but what if she wasn’t? Why, why had she let Jen play by herself in the woods? It might have been safe twenty-odd years ago when she and Cathal had been children, but nowadays... Guilt washed over Alicia. This whole situation was like one of those nightmares where you knew you were dreaming and you tried so hard to wake up but you just couldn’t. Was Jen still playing in the woods, or had someone taken her away? Was she still alive? Her abductor, if there was one, had had plenty of time to torture her for hours and then kill her. So maybe there would be a funeral to arrange, dear Christ, how could she ever attend a funeral service for her daughter? A white coffin, children always had white coffins, didn’t they? No, no, the thought was unbearable. Jenny might be lying somewhere, violated, broken, dead.

  The child in her head suddenly screamed, banishing every other thought. No Daddy, please don’t!

  But he had. He had picked her up and thrown her across his bed in the bad room and torn off all her clothes, she had kicked and fought him but it was hopeless, he was so much bigger and stronger. She couldn’t even have been as old as Jenny now. He’d forced her head down with one big, rough hand, and beaten her with his other hand. He had slapped her all over and then taken his belt with the buckle and struck her again and again. She’d been screaming Daddy don’t kill me, but he had gone on and on until she stopped screaming because she could hardly breathe. Her head was jammed into the bed sheets and she could feel the blood running down her back, her legs, and he’d been grunting in a horrible, nauseating way. How terrified she had been, she thought she was going to die, that he was going to kill her, and then... what? What happened then? And why?

  Another picture in her head, black and white and soundless this time, out in the lane quite late one evening, there was her and Mum and Cathal, as well as his Mum and Dad. Cathal’s Dad had ordered him inside, but his Mum must have been going somewhere because Cathal had hugged her goodbye... and then he’d hugged little Alicia goodbye too, a big bear hug and a kiss on the cheek, same as he’d given his mum, and she could see his mouth form the words, ‘Bye, ‘Lici, see you in the morning, right?’

  Her father had been watching them from the living room window, he had seen it, and of course this wasn’t the first time Cathal had touched her like that... Her father was outraged... his face, dear God, she would never forget that face... He had beaten her half to death. And what had he done to her then?

  But it didn’t matter now, what did anything matter except Jenny? Had Jenny been this scared? Had Jenny begged for her life like she had that day?

  Bile rose in Alicia’s throat and she leapt up, both hands clamped over her mouth. She ran to the toilets opposite the relatives’ room and vomited, crouching on the floor and retching, spitting hot, disgusting liquid into the bowl.

  Derek was just behind her. ‘Okay, Alicia, get it all out. Good girl. Here you are.’

  He crouched behind her, rubbing her back, then helped her to her feet and gave her a wet paper towel. Dumbly, she wiped her face and ran water over her hands.

  ‘That’s good. Rinse your mouth. Feel better?’

  ‘No,’ she said, realising that she was shivering. ‘I want my little girl.’

  ‘I know. Come on, let’s go back to Margaret.’

  Alicia slumped down into the same uncomfortable chair and silently accepted a peppermint from Margaret.

  Frank arrived a few minutes later, the strain apparent in his face. He was pale and the lines on his forehead looked so much deeper than usual. He sat down beside her, squeezed her arm then clasped his hands together, staring down at them before lifting his eyes back to hers. When he spoke his voice didn’t sound like Frank at all.

  ‘The police are out searching, Alicia, I waited at Bob’s until they came and I told them where we’d already looked and gave them Jenny’s trainers for the dogs. They’re organising helicopters and they’ll phone right away if, when, they find anything.’

  Alicia pressed her lips together, not trusting herself to speak. If she spoke she would scream herself, like the child inside her head, and if she started she might not be able to stop.

  Derek stood up. ‘I’ll get back to the ward now Frank’s here,’ he said, going to the door.

  Margaret rose too. ‘I’ll stay with Bob,’ she said. ‘Alicia, you go and see to the police.’

  Alicia nodded. Her poor aunt seemed to have aged ten years in one short day. What must she look like? She turned to Frank. ‘Where is she, Frank? She can’t have just disappeared.’

  ‘I know,’ he said heavily. ‘If she’s still in the woods they’ll find her any time now. And if she’s not, well, I don’t... ’

  ‘She knows it’s wrong to go away with a stranger,’ said Alicia. ‘And Conker was there too.’

  Frank looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Who would she go away with?’ he said suddenly. Alicia sat down again.

  ‘Well, neighbours, I suppose, though she’s been told often enough to ask about people like that too. That’s about it, though. The only other people she knows in the village are you and Kenneth Taylor and Mrs... ’ She heard her voice rise at least an octave as realisation hit her. ‘Oh my God Frank, how could I have forgotten, she’s talked about a... a playmate. A man. I
don’t know who it is, I don’t even know for sure if it’s a real person or an imaginary friend, but she’s talked about playing in the woods with him a couple of times at least. She said I knew him and it was alright, I thought it was John Watson but he wouldn’t... take her... oh God.’

  Panic filled her, churning her stomach into yet more punishing cramps. Who was he, this Oberon? An adult, Jenny had definitely said that much. What else had she said? Alicia hadn’t been listening, she hadn’t taken the time to listen because she’d been too busy worrying about her father and Paul and anyway, bad things didn’t happen in Lower Banford. But they did, look at what her father had done to her... How could she have been so short-sighted? Jenny had talked about this person and she hadn’t bothered to find out more. She hadn’t seen the danger.

  ‘We should tell all that to the police,’ said Frank, reaching for his mobile. Suddenly he looked at her, ‘Alicia, it wouldn’t be your ex, would it?

  ‘Paul? No, surely not. He’s busy with meetings in York. At least that’s what he told us... ’

  A shimmer of hope came into Alicia’s head. Could Paul have persuaded Jenny to go off on a little outing somewhere? Just to frighten them? It would be cruel and senseless, but it wasn’t quite impossible. He might even have told Jen that he had squared it all up with Mummy first.

  ‘If she’s with Paul, then she’ll be alright,’ she said, and Frank nodded, waiting for the police to answer his call. He relayed the story about the playmate in the woods, and Alicia sat listening. She would go and talk to the police herself, show them Jenny’s favourite place up there. The fairy circle of tall trees.

  ‘Does he have a name, this playmate of Jenny’s?’ asked Frank, still on the phone.

  ‘Oberon,’ she said, and he repeated this for the police sergeant.

  ‘You should phone Paul too, no matter what you think,’ said Frank, breaking the connection.

  ‘Yes, I should have thought of that,’ said Alicia, staring down at her mobile. Thank heavens the number was still in her phone. She made the connection and listened as Paul’s mobile rang. His voice was loud in her ear.