Christmas at Mistletoe Cottage

by Lucy Daniels

  On the third day, she stood in the orchard watching the sun come up as the dogs raced around. She heard the car before it came into view. When she saw it was the Jeep, her heart began to race. That Jimmy had come so early meant he must have news. Hustling the dogs inside, she locked the centre and met him coming round the corner.

  He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. ‘I haven’t downloaded it yet,’ he said in a rush. ‘I came straight here. But we’ve recorded someone. Yesterday evening.’

  ‘Come inside,’ she told him. They made their way to the kitchen door. Adam was cooking scrambled eggs and Emily was filling the kettle, but they gathered round as Jimmy connected the camera to Mandy’s laptop.

  The video footage was black and white, but Mandy was amazed at how clear it was. The first run of film showed a red deer as it wandered through the bushes. It seemed like a false alarm, but then the images became more chilling. A figure appeared in shot. From the size, gait and shape of the head, it was definitely a man. He was wearing a hooded jacket and dark trousers. He walked up the front path, turned left and disappeared round the back of the house. Mandy’s heart sank. The hood had obscured the person’s features. Unless he came out with it down, they were no further forward. At least, she thought, the bathroom window where he had got in before was sturdily boarded up. It was unlikely he would get in that way again and the windows at the front of the house were a good deal higher. Climbing into them would be more difficult.

  The film stopped, then started again when the figure reappeared. To Mandy’s disappointment, the hood was still firmly in place. From the timing on the footage, he had not been round the back of the house long, so he hadn’t managed to break back in. Mandy realised she was holding her breath. Was this her invisible enemy at long last? The figure paused for a moment, staring at the house, then began to amble across the lawn. He was going to leave.

  When he was almost level with the camera, the man stopped. What was he doing, Mandy wondered? There was a small clump of rocks in the garden that might have been part of a wall. The topmost stones protruded from the snow. The intruder had stopped and was looking down. Then, bending, he lifted one of the rocks. Tossing it in his hand, he made his way over to the sitting room window. Mandy felt sick as she watched the series of images: the arm drawn back, the thrust, the smash. She half expected him to go and knock the rest of the glass out so that he could climb in. Instead, he returned to the pile of stones. Again, he reached down, but seemed to stumble and lose his balance. As he straightened up, the loose hood of his jacket fell back. Just for an instant, his face was visible. In the next shot, he had pulled it back into place. The sequence continued as he broke the kitchen window as well. After surveying his handiwork, he turned and swaggered back down the path and disappeared.

  ‘That’s the lot,’ Jimmy said. Disconnecting the camera, he flipped back through the film and showed it to Mandy. There was one single shot of the man’s face. It was remarkably clear. ‘We’ll have to take this to the police,’ Jimmy said.

  But Mandy was gazing at the image. She had seen this man before. ‘Wait,’ she told Jimmy, holding out her hand. ‘I think I know him from somewhere.’

  Everyone looked expectantly at her. Mandy wracked her brains. He hadn’t been in the rescue centre. Could he have been an Animal Ark client? But Mandy couldn’t picture him with an animal.

  ‘It’s Robbie Grimshaw’s nephew!’ she gasped. ‘I saw him the day I visited Robbie in the home.’

  ‘Robbie Grimshaw’s nephew?’ Adam was frowning. Emily, too. ‘Why would he have a grudge against the rescue centre?’

  ‘Not the rescue centre.’ Jimmy’s voice was grim. ‘He’s attacking Mandy herself. Maybe in some crazy way, he blames Mandy for Robbie being moved into the home?’

  It seemed a thin excuse. It was not as if Mandy had driven Robbie away and stolen his house. She had helped the police get Robbie to a safe place when he was in a really bad way. She had only bought the cottage when he had moved out. Not everyone was rational, she reminded herself. Robbie’s nephew could yet turn out to be a ‘nutjob’ as Helen had predicted.

  Emily looked at Mandy, her face worried. ‘Would the staff at the home have some details for Robbie’s nephew?’ she asked.

  ‘Maybe,’ Mandy admitted. They hadn’t asked for her address when she went in, but the auxiliary she had spoken to had entered her name in some kind of log, she remembered. She’d had to sign out when she left. If she was lucky, the nephew might have given them his name too.

  She had to look up the number for the home. Tapping it in, she heard a pleasant voice on the other end of the line.

  ‘The Rowans Care Home, how can I help you?’

  Mandy’s mind was working furiously. She had dialled without planning what she wanted to say. ‘I was wondering,’ she paused for a moment, then rushed on, ‘I was in a couple of weeks ago, visiting Robbie Grimshaw,’ she said.

  Three sets of eyes were on her. It was hard to think. Walking over to the window, Mandy looked out at the snow-covered garden. A Christmas rose was flowering defiantly in the shelter of the hedge. ‘I met a young man,’ she explained. ‘Robbie’s nephew. He seemed ever so nice. I was wondering if …’ She paused infinitesimally, her eyes on a blue tit that had landed on one of the bushes. ‘… I’d like to send him a Christmas card,’ she invented, keeping her voice casual, though it was an effort. ‘Would you have his details there, please?’

  There was a moment’s silence. Outside in the garden, the tiny bird flitted away. Then the voice came again. ‘What a lovely thought. I’m afraid I don’t have an address, but I have his name here. Maybe you can look him up. It’s Stuart Mortimore.’

  Raising her eyes skyward in silent thanks, Mandy told the woman how grateful she was for her time and rang off.

  ‘His name is Stuart Mortimore,’ she told Emily.

  Her mum frowned. ‘Mortimore?’ she said. ‘That rings a bell. I think there was a family over in Walton called Mortimore. There was something about them. Some trouble. I can’t remember what.’

  ‘I guess I should call PC Armstrong,’ Mandy said heavily. Suddenly everything felt very real. What if she was wrong, and she was about to accuse Stuart Mortimore of a crime he hadn’t committed? She dialled the number for Walton police. Ellen Armstrong answered, to Mandy’s relief.

  ‘I’ll come over right now,’ Ellen told her. ‘I’ll bring Sergeant Jones as well.’

  Mandy ended the call and sat down at the table. Was she doing the right thing? Was the film on Jimmy’s camera admissible evidence? She wasn’t sure if that was even the correct term.

  ‘It’ll take them a few minutes to get here.’ Adam glanced round as the first client of the day drew up outside. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to make a start on surgery,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll have to go too,’ Jimmy added. ‘I said I’d give Jared a hand.’

  Mandy stood up and followed him to the door, stepping outside to kiss him before he left. ‘Thank you so much for this,’ she said, meaning it. ‘I’ll let you know how it goes.’

  ‘Please do.’ For a moment, he held her tight. She could feel his heart beating. ‘You will look after yourself?’ His eyes were anxious. ‘I’ll come back at lunchtime,’ he promised.

  ‘You don’t need to.’ Mandy couldn’t help smiling at his earnest, worried face. ‘I will look after myself,’ she assured him. ‘And the place is going to be crawling with police in a moment!’

  He managed a grin, then raised a hand in farewell and jogged over to his Jeep. Mandy watched him drive off, feeling her smile vanish. Had Robbie Grimshaw’s nephew really launched a hate campaign against her and her rescued animals?

  Twenty-five minutes later, a police car drew up. The two officers came into the kitchen. Sergeant Jones looked at the image on the screen of Mandy’s laptop. ‘Nice and clear,’ he commented. ‘Stuart Mortimore was known to us when he was younger. Right tearaway, he was. Always in some sort of trouble. He disappeared a couple of years ago
and we lost sight of him. I heard he’d moved to Leeds. But that’s him right enough.’ He sighed.

  PC Armstrong tapped something into her phone. ‘We’ve got his mother’s address. I know she’s still there. Nice woman.’ She gave Mandy a wry smile. ‘We should be able to pick Stuart up soon enough. He has some friends locally that we can look up as well. Hopefully we’ll have him in a day or two.’

  ‘Really?’ Mandy could hardly believe that her troubles might be over so soon.

  Sergeant Jones nodded. ‘We’ll cross-reference with Leeds to see if they have any outstanding warrants for him. Even if they don’t, if we can show Stuart was involved in all of the attacks against you, he might get a custodial sentence.’ He smiled. ‘Well done for identifying him,’ he said. ‘I haven’t picked up someone using a wildlife camera before. I’ll keep that in mind!’

  Mandy felt slightly uneasy, wondering if Sergeant Jones realised it was his wife’s ex-husband who had set up the camera at Lamb’s Wood Cottage.

  The police officers left, assuring Mandy that they would keep in touch. ‘Just keep an eye out in the meantime,’ Ellen warned her.

  ‘I will,’ Mandy replied. She certainly had no intention of going to Lamb’s Wood Cottage without Jimmy until Stuart Mortimore was found. Jimmy answered his phone after only two rings. ‘The police think they should be able to pick him up quite quickly,’ she said.

  ‘Good.’ Mandy had never heard his voice sound so grim.

  Morning surgery was almost over by the time Mandy and Emily made it out to the clinic. The snow and the nearness of Christmas seemed to have put more people off making routine appointments, making it a quiet morning. After they’d all had a coffee, Mandy went out to vaccinate a horse, and by the time she returned, Emily and Adam were also out.

  Helen had put some festive music on in the waiting room. For the first time in ages, Mandy felt calm. It was only a few days to Christmas. Her mum was back to normal. She and Jimmy were back on track. And if PC Armstrong and Sergeant Jones were right, they would soon have Stuart Mortimore in custody. That would be a relief. Until they had him, Mandy had decided to put her ideas about visiting Lamb’s Wood Cottage on hold. She didn’t want to spend her first Christmas in her new home cowering behind the kitchen door with a rolling pin.

  Helen stood up and grabbed her coat. ‘Can you take the phones?’ she said. ‘I want to meet Seb for lunch.’

  ‘Of course.’ Oh Holy Night was playing through the speakers. Mandy smoothed out a piece of tinsel on the desk. ‘Have a good time,’ she told her friend.

  ‘Back at two,’ the nurse assured her. ‘I’ve diverted the phone to your mobile.’

  When Helen had gone, Mandy went outside. The snow crunched under her feet as she walked over to the paddock. The fellside was sparkling white and the orchard trees stood black and stark against the blue sky. There was just enough time to do a bit of work with Holly and Robin before lunch. Her mobile would ring in her pocket if anyone needed to contact the surgery

  Mandy spent several minutes grooming Robin, trying to get a sheen on his fluffy grey-brown fur, and now it was Holly’s turn. The young donkey seemed to enjoy the attention as Mandy brushed her hair, methodically working towards her hindquarters. Sky was lying in the sunshine at the edge of the field shelter. With her thick coat, she seemed oblivious to the cold.

  Although it was still freezing, grooming was warm work. Mandy stopped to take off her jacket and hung it on a fence post. When she turned around, she noticed that Sky was sitting up. Her ears were pricked and her head was on one side.

  ‘What is it?’ Mandy smiled at the collie’s intent expression. Inside the rescue centre, one of the dogs began to bark, and then another. Mandy frowned. She had been working hard with all the dogs to keep them calm if they heard something outside. It was rare for them to make much noise. Sky’s ears had gone back. Her hackles were raised. To Mandy’s surprise, she growled.

  A shadow fell across the paddock, black on white. A figure rounded the end of the field shelter. Holly jumped, her little hooves slipping in the trodden snow. Mandy felt the pulse throb in her temples. A pair of startling blue eyes glared at her from inside a thick hood. She would have recognised them anywhere. It was Stuart Mortimore.

  Everything seemed to go into slow motion. Mandy took a step back, her fingers reaching for the phone in her pocket. Stuart was wearing the same tracksuit he’d had on when she had seen him at The Rowans. It looked grubby, as if he had been wearing it for days. His hair was greasy, straggling across his forehead under the hood.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ Mandy’s voice was high, trying for normality: failing badly. She took another step backwards. Her phone was between finger and thumb. She struggled to pull it from her pocket.

  ‘You can give me my inheritance back.’ The voice was low and angry. ‘You sent my uncle to that home. I was going to move in.’ He took another step.

  Mandy held up her right hand, her body leaning away from him. Her left hand was still half in and half out of her pocket, fingers trying to press the right numbers. She twisted further, hoping Stuart wouldn’t see what she was doing.

  ‘I didn’t know that. I didn’t know you existed.’ It was hard to breathe, but she managed to get the words out. Her eyes were latched on his. Her mind was racing. There was nobody near: no point in screaming.

  Stuart advanced on her. Step by step, crunching in the snow. ‘He’s my uncle.’ The voice was louder now. The eyes were bulging. ‘I was going to inherit. You put him in a home, you bitch! They’re spending my money. That house was MINE!’ He was flat out yelling now, fists clenched.

  His shouts were too much for Sky. She darted along the ground, body low, then launched herself at Stuart. His eyes caught the snarling black streak and his howl of rage turned into a gasp.

  Mandy half thought that he would kick the collie aside, but Sky’s attack knocked him off balance. Stuart teetered on his heels, arms flailing. His head hit the side of the field shelter as he went down.

  Terrified by the commotion, Robin snapped his lead-rope and made a dash for freedom, bolting out from behind Mandy and leaping over the prone body. A careless hind foot landed on Stuart’s stomach as the young man tried to roll out of the way.

  For a moment, the pathetic figure lay clasping his abdomen. His breath came in wheezing sobs. When he lifted his head, he looked dazed. He fell back onto the snow with his eyes shut. Mandy could tell he was still conscious because he was moaning.

  Mandy had the phone in her hand. Barely taking her eyes off Stuart, her fingers found the redial button. Walton Police was the last number she had called. She prayed that PC Armstrong would answer and figure out what was going on fast.

  The body on the floor was moving again. To Mandy’s amazement, as Stuart started to get up, Sky leaped forward. The collie stood closely over him like a sheep-dog with an aggressive ewe. Her ears were flat against her head, eyes boring into him. Every time Stuart tried to move, she darted towards him, baring her teeth.

  ‘Call your dog off!’ Stuart shouted, lying in the churned-up snow. Mandy ignored him. He would have to take his chances with Sky, she thought. On the other end of the phone, she heard someone answer. It sounded like Ellen, but before Mandy could say anything, Stuart started to speak, his voice so low it was difficult to hear.

  Mandy took a step towards him and held the phone so that it would pick up his words. She hoped Ellen could hear, and would come straight back. Mandy didn’t want to interrupt Stuart, not if there was a chance he was going to explain himself.

  ‘What did you say, Stuart Mortimore?’ Mandy prompted clearly. Please Ellen. Please be listening.

  ‘You know what I said.’ His voice was louder now. ‘You stole my inheritance.’

  ‘Was it you?’ she asked. ‘Who did all those things to the rescue centre?’

  And now, despite his prone position, despite Sky beside him, Stuart Mortimore managed to laugh. ‘Course it was.’ His face was filled with spite. ‘Enjoyed it,
too. Thinking about you, all scared and pathetic.’

  He sneered at her, his mouth twisting. ‘It was me who made the hole in your fence. I got the idea from some idiot in the pub. He was whining about you, said your dogs were running around the countryside, terrifying his rabbits.’ He gave another short laugh. ‘I told him I’d had trouble with you too. Knew he’d pass it on, make sure everyone knew you weren’t welcome. And then I made the hole.’ He smiled with satisfaction.

  ‘Why would you do that?’ Mandy demanded faintly. His words sickened her, but she wanted to keep him talking.

  ‘I hoped another of your dogs would escape,’ he boasted. ‘I hoped they’d cause an accident. If someone died, you’d have been in real trouble.’ His head was twitching from side to side, as if he couldn’t talk fast enough to keep up with his memories. ‘I did other things too. A complaint to the campsite, some calls to your supplier.’

  While he spoke, his body was still. But as he spat the last word, he rolled. Tucking his legs beneath him, he lurched upright in a single motion. Mandy staggered backwards. For a moment, she thought he was going to kick her. He paused with his foot in the air, then turned to run. Sky took off after him like a bolt from a gun.

  Mandy lifted her head. In the distance, she heard the sound of a police siren and squealing tyres. By the time she had pulled herself together and walked unsteadily to the front of the rescue centre, the police car was parked slantwise across the drive and Stuart was being handcuffed.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Ellen Armstrong seemed out of breath. She had hold of one of Stuart’s arms and Dan Jones was on his other side.

  Mandy gave them a shaky nod. For the moment, she didn’t trust herself to speak.