by Lucy Daniels
‘Yes, I am.’
‘In that case, I shall come and help you.’
Mandy tried not to laugh. Helen was wearing her determined face. If anyone could get the cottage whipped into shape, it was her. ‘Are you absolutely sure? It’ll be messy.’
Helen pursed her lips. ‘Look around you,’ she said. ‘Do you think I’d let a little bit of mess get in my way?’
‘Good point,’ Mandy said. Almost every day, animals came into the waiting room. Some were bleeding, some had diarrhoea. Many of the dogs cocked their legs on the reception desk. Yet Helen made sure the place was always spotless. ‘In that case, I gratefully accept your offer. And in return, I shall take you out for a drink.’ It was about time she went back to the Fox and Goose, Mandy thought, even if it brought back memories of her last visit. If she was in a mood for facing demons, she might as well put that one to rest. If Jimmy was in there with Molly, then so be it.
The last time Mandy and Helen had visited Lamb’s Wood Cottage, dusk had turned the house rather beautiful in the half-light. This time, in the cold light of a December afternoon, the cottage looked very grim indeed. Although the roof had been mended, Mandy had forgotten just how blistered and awful the paint was on the front door and how green the once-white weatherboarding had become. Dead weeds in the guttering poked through the ribbon of snow. For a moment, Mandy had a sense that nature was taking over, that if she sat down for too long, weeds would cover her too. She shook herself. The cottage was neglected, that was all. It just needed a bit of attention.
The key to the front door was still difficult to turn. She would bring some WD40 next time, Mandy decided.
As they entered the hallway, the house felt damp. There were little piles of white dust on the flagstones, showing where the ceiling plaster was crumbling. A worrying patch of black mould had appeared at the foot of the stairs, and one of the window frames had started to disintegrate into splinters. Mandy tried not to show her dismay. Given the state of the place, there was no way she would be moving in properly for a while. But having lunch here on the big day felt like a demonstration of intent. The cottage had once been a home. For now it was a shell, but with a new bathroom, refurbished kitchen and lots of stripping and redecorating, it could be lovely again.
‘Where should we start?’ Helen stood in the hallway gazing around. To their left was the sitting room, to their right the kitchen. ‘It’s a huge job.’
Mandy went back through into the kitchen. ‘There’s no way we can do it all,’ she said. ‘But I’d love one room to be clean enough so I can eat there, even if I can’t cook. It’ll have to be the kitchen or the sitting room. That way I can light a fire.’ She would have to look into central heating to combat the damp. It could be done at the same time as the decoration. After Christmas, she would formulate a proper plan.
Together, they inspected both rooms. While the kitchen was filthy, the room on the other side of the hallway had rain damage from the previously missing roof tiles. Though it was now more-or-less dry, the room had a musty smell. There was also a nasty-looking carpet on the floor. Even though Mandy, like most vets, had a strong stomach, she tried not to think about what might be growing underneath. But the kitchen tiles, once cleaned, would be serviceable.
‘I think we should start with the kitchen,’ Mandy said after they had been into both rooms twice.
‘I think you’re right,’ Helen agreed.
Two hours later, with the light fading, Mandy rubbed her aching back and surveyed the newly-cleaned kitchen. The floor had been swept twice, stirring up all kinds of ancient grime. It needed a good scrub with hot water, but that would have to come later when the boiler was working. At least Helen had found the stopcock and switched on the supply of cold water, which seemed to be working. Mandy planned to switch it off and drain the system before they finished for the night. The last thing she needed was burst pipes if there was a hard frost.
They had filled several black plastic bags with the dregs of Robbie Grimshaw’s grocery supplies. Mandy felt sad as they emptied out the cupboards. His existence must have been pretty miserable towards the end. She wondered why his nephew hadn’t done more to help him; from the looks of it, Robbie had lived off tinned pilchards and the occasional potato. Couldn’t his relative have done a proper food shop for him? Mandy decided to visit Robbie again in the New Year, she thought. She would take Sky next time. Even if he couldn’t remember his dog, he had always loved animals. He would be happy to see her. And at least his nephew seemed to be around now. Perhaps he had just moved to the area, Mandy thought charitably. Hopefully the young man would visit his uncle over Christmas.
Most of the cupboards were now empty. There was only one left and then the wood stove. Mandy would have to clean that out before she could light a fire. Even after hours of hard work, Helen still seemed to be full of energy. She was standing in the centre of the floor, sporting a thick pair of rubber gloves and a hairstyle that would not look out of place on a scarecrow. ‘It’s not too bad now,’ she declared. Her voice held its usual certainty. ‘Just the one cupboard to go.’
‘Would you mind getting it?’ Mandy asked. ‘I want to have a look at the stove.’
‘Of course.’ Helen crossed to the corner cupboard and opened the door wide. To Mandy’s surprise a pile of beer cans fell out, tumbling onto the tiles. A single can rolled across the floor landing at Mandy’s feet and she lifted it up. Unlike everything else in the kitchen, the can looked brand new and only recently emptied. Though she knew aluminium didn’t rust, Mandy could smell ale. Surely after all these months, any dregs would have dried out. Upending it over the sink, a few drops of beer made their way over the lip of the can.
‘That’s strange.’
She looked at Helen, who shrugged. ‘Maybe they haven’t dried out because the cupboard is damp?’ the nurse suggested. She didn’t look convinced. She started pulling out the remaining cans and shoving them into the rubbish bag.
Mandy crouched down and opened the door to the stove. There was a bunch of crumpled plastic inside. She drew it out. It was a bag from the local bakery. Inside it, she found a screwed up ball of greaseproof paper and some brown bags. There was no way these were old. There were crumbs as if from a bread roll and a slice of tomato that had obviously been removed from a sandwich. Holding the bag in her fingertips, she stood up.
‘Someone’s been here,’ she said to Helen. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
The nurse came over and peered into the carrier. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I expect a tramp must have sheltered here overnight. It has been very cold.’ She frowned. ‘I wonder how they got in.’
Despite Helen’s calm words, Mandy felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. A shiver ran down her spine. ‘I’ll go and look,’ she said. Her breathing quickened as she moved through to the back of the house.
There was a small bathroom to the left, opposite the staircase. To her horror, the window had been shattered and most of the glass removed. Some of last night’s snow had made it inside. Nobody had been in or out since then, at least. There were no new footprints. To Mandy’s disgust, someone had also used the toilet. Without water, there had been no way to flush it. Thanking Helen silently for turning on the water today, Mandy tugged on the ancient chain. Yellowish water swirled around the bowl, accompanied by a startling clatter from the cistern above her head. Mandy retreated before the ancient contraption fell off the wall, and decided to check the rest of the house for signs of her uninvited visitor.
Mounting the stairs, she could feel a surge of anger rising. She knew that people were homeless for all kinds of reasons. They needed somewhere to shelter. But there was a centre in Walton. Why would someone traipse all the way out here, to a draughty cottage? She dreaded to think what would have happened if they had tried to light a fire.
She popped her head into the small bedroom to the left at the top of the stairs. It was as empty as it had been on her last visit. Nothing see
med to have been disturbed. As she crossed the landing to the master bedroom, she tried to get her thoughts under control. Whoever it was didn’t seem to have done too much damage. She would board up the window downstairs and get a glazier to come out. Perhaps tomorrow, if she was lucky.
But in the main bedroom, Mandy stopped dead and stared in horror at the message scrawled in black paint.
‘GET OUT BITCH.’
Despite the dimness of the light, the huge letters on the wall were as stark and horrifying as fresh blood. In her shock, Mandy let out a scream.
A moment later, Helen cantered up the stairs. ‘Are you okay?’ she called.
Mandy was shaking from head to foot. She couldn’t answer.
Helen stopped. Her eyes were fixed on the wall. ‘I’m calling the police,’ she said.
Mandy watched as the nurse dialled 101. There was a roaring noise in her ears that made it impossible to hear what Helen was saying.
‘I spoke to Sergeant Jones,’ Helen told Mandy when the call had ended. She touched Mandy’s arm, her hand warm and comforting. ‘He’s coming over to take a look. Are you okay?’
Mandy shook her head. Who had been in her house?
‘Shall we go and wait in the car?’ Helen steered Mandy gently out of the room and down the stairs. Together they went outside and climbed into Mandy’s RAV4. Mandy put the engine on and locked the doors. Helen turned up the heater. She found a can of juice in the glove compartment and they shared it. Mandy was relieved when a set of headlights appeared, bouncing over the humps of the rough track.
The liveried police car came to a standstill beside them and Sergeant Dan Jones climbed out, broad-shouldered and reassuring in his uniform. Brandishing a powerful torch, he came and stood beside the Toyota as Mandy and Helen got out. They made their way back inside the house. It was dark now, and the graffiti looked even more eerie in the beam of yellow torchlight.
‘As I told you, we found some rubbish downstairs that suggested a tramp had stayed here for a while,’ Helen said. ‘But this doesn’t look like something a tramp would do.’ She gestured towards the wall. ‘This feels … personal.’
Mandy closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry.
Sergeant Jones nodded. The whites of his eyes were very bright in the dusk. ‘I’ve read PC Armstrong’s notes on your recent problems, Mandy,’ he said. ‘I think we have to assume there’s a connection between this and the attacks on Hope Meadows.’ He looked sympathetically at her. ‘I’ll take away some of the cans. There might be fingerprints.’
Mandy felt sick. It was so cold. Chances were, anyone spending time here would be wearing gloves. Even if they hadn’t, to have fingerprints on file, the person would have to have a criminal record. What kind of enemy had the rescue centre made?
Somehow this was worse than the meddling that had been done before. ‘Bitch’ lifted everything to a whole new level. If Lamb’s Wood Cottage had come under attack, then it wasn’t just Hope Meadows that was threatened. It was Mandy herself.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The light in Mandy’s bedroom when she dragged herself out of bed in the morning was a strange shade of pewter. Opening the curtains, she gazed at the scene outside. The snowstorm had arrived overnight. The orchard and the rescue centre were enveloped in whirling flakes. The sky seemed far away and somehow both white and black at the same time. Beyond the hedge, the fellside stretched away, a white counterpane reaching into an invisible sky.
Emily and Adam had been horrified to hear about the graffiti when Mandy had returned from Lamb’s Wood Cottage. It had been a relief that she could share everything with them, now that her mum was on the mend. But Mandy wasn’t a child any more: her parents were still wonderful people, but she couldn’t rely on them to make everything right. She had to figure out who hated her with such a passion, and why.
Sky had followed her over to the window. She seemed to sense Mandy’s anxiety and was staying very close. They walked down the stairs together and headed into the kitchen. Snow had gathered on the ledge outside the window and when Mandy opened the door, a small avalanche tumbled onto the doormat. Mandy kicked the snow back outside and cleared the doorstep before stepping into the drift.
Sky seemed puzzled by the snow at first, snapping at the spiralling flakes as if it was some huge game. Her fluffy coat looked like it had been dusted with icing sugar by the time she followed Mandy into the rescue centre. Mandy took Birch and Flame from their kennels. Birch was still underweight so Mandy put a fluorescent coat on the little dog, both to keep her warm and to ensure she was visible in the deepening snow.
As soon as they were released in the orchard, Flame and Sky raced away from Mandy, chasing round and round the paddock with spurts of snow flying up from their paws. Birch seemed equally enthusiastic about the strange white stuff, though for most of the time, she could only take flying leaps with her short legs. She cleared the snow in short bursts, sinking in past her elbows, then bounding forwards again. Flame stopped beside her little friend on every circuit, pausing to lick Birch’s head before zooming off again. After only a few minutes, Birch struggled back to Mandy, who took her back inside and dried her fur before putting her back in her warm kennel. Despite her doubts, Mandy had already received a couple of expressions of interest about rehoming Birch and Flame together. She felt a glow of satisfaction as she thought of the odd pair spending the rest of their lives together.
The cats seemed comfortable in their lovely warm room. Mandy checked the thermostat, moving it up a notch with a burst of gratitude to her parents for their generosity. Thanks to them, the animal housing was warm and easy to heat. The original wooden structures she had planned would have been far less sophisticated, and a real challenge in this extreme weather.
Despite the frenzied happiness of the dogs, Mandy couldn’t shake the heavy feeling from her chest. With her invisible enemy still raging, was she going to have to turn Hope Meadows into a fortress? There were locks now on all the windows. Adam had insisted on fitting them as soon as the attacks had begun to look more serious. Mandy was glad of them, but she was starting to check them obsessively. It felt so strange to be worrying about someone trying to get in, rather than the usual concerns about the animals getting out. She couldn’t help hoping, as she checked the tiny window in the toilet, that whoever it was that was carrying out these attacks would reveal him or herself soon. She hated the feeling of being watched from the shadows by someone she could not see.
‘It’s quiet this morning,’ Helen declared as Mandy walked into the clinic. ‘So many people have cancelled, there’s almost nobody left.’ Mandy couldn’t blame them. Most of the appointments were non-urgent anyway. They could be rescheduled when the roads were clear.
‘I think it’s time to clean out the cupboards,’ the nurse announced. Mandy smiled. Helen would never take advantage of an empty schedule to relax. Mandy decided to help her. Too much time doing nothing just fed the troubling thoughts inside her head.
When the door clicked open twenty minutes later, both Mandy and Helen were up to their elbows in soapy water. Pulling her head out of the cabinet she had been scrubbing, Mandy dropped her cloth into the bucket and walked through into reception.
Susan Collins was standing at the desk, ashen-faced and clutching a pair of gloves.
‘Susan! What’s wrong?’ Mandy asked. ‘Is it Marmalade?’ Susan’s cat had been in a few times, but never for anything serious.
Susan shook her head. There was fear in her eyes. ‘Is Jack here?’
She must have known the answer would be no. If Jack had turned up on his own, Mandy would have called Susan immediately. Mandy could see her friend was on the edge of a terror she didn’t want to face. ‘What’s happened?’ she prompted gently.
‘He’s gone missing from nursery. Someone left the gate open. I know he loves it here. I thought he might have come to see you.’
Susan’s eyes were pleading, but Mandy could only shake her head. ‘He hasn’t been here. Is the
re anything we can do?’
Susan swallowed. ‘Can you come and help look for him?’ she begged. Her voice was high and quavering. ‘There are loads of people searching, but he knows you.’ Tears welled in her eyes and started to run down her cheeks, but Susan didn’t seem to notice.
Mandy was already pulling on her coat and boots. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Susan was going through, but she would do whatever she could to help. ‘Helen will stay here in case he turns up,’ she told Susan. The nurse had appeared behind her, then vanished again. ‘Where have you already looked? Where would he go?’
Susan took a deep breath. ‘There are people all over the village,’ she said. ‘But no one out this way. I’m worried he might have gone looking for reindeer with all the snow. He’s been going on and on about hunting for them. It was just meant to be a bit of fun …’ She stopped for a moment, her face stricken. ‘Please can you … and if anyone else could …’ she trailed off. She was shaking from head to foot and her tears were starting to stain her snow-flecked coat.
Helen bustled into the room brandishing two chocolate bars, handing one to Mandy, one to Susan. ‘For when you find him,’ she explained, handing them over. ‘Susan, can I get you a hot drink …’ But the terrified mother had thanked her for the chocolate and was already rushing out of the door.
Helen reached out and squeezed Mandy’s arm. ‘I’ll call Seb, in case he’s out this way,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about a thing here. I’ll let your parents know what’s going on. Just find that little boy, okay?’
Mandy nodded, unable to speak. She followed Susan outside. The snow was falling thicker than ever, swallowing up the countryside. Mandy hoped that Jack would turn up somewhere safe and sound in a cosy little hiding spot. If he was out in this, it didn’t bear thinking about.
Susan had run back down the drive to the road, and Mandy could see her woollen hat bobbing along on the other side of the hedge, heading to the village. Much as she wanted to stay close to her friend and support her, Mandy figured she would be better off striking out on her own, to cover the greatest distance.
