by D. S. Butler
“Yes, there’s another man inside,” I spluttered.
Lizzie appeared over the fireman’s shoulder, and I recognised another officer behind her.
“Who is inside, Abbie?” she asked sharply.
“Toby,” I said. “Toby Walsh. He killed Nicole and he just tried to kill us, too.”
The next few minutes were a blur. I was bundled into the back of an ambulance and treated at the scene. My eyes were still streaming, and I couldn’t stop coughing. Fire officers from three fire engines battled the blaze as I sat inside the ambulance.
“Is everyone else okay?” I asked between hacking coughs.
The female paramedic treating me exchanged a look with her colleague. “Let’s just concentrate on you for now.”
Shouts and orders came from outside, then the sound of more sirens.
I wished I knew what was happening. Was Toby Walsh still alive? Had they managed to get him out in time?
The ambulance door opened, and Janet stuck her head in. “Oh, there you are.”
“I’m sorry but you can’t stand there unless you’re family. We’re in the middle of treatment,” the paramedic said sternly.
“I am family,” Janet lied smoothly and turned back to me. “Sienna has been checked out and she is well enough to go home. I’ve called my mother and we’ll go to her house until Steve gets back from London. You’re welcome to come with us.”
I blinked in surprise. By Janet’s standards, that was rolling out the red carpet.
The paramedic shook her head. “We need to get you checked out at the hospital, Abbie. You’ve inhaled a lot of smoke, and I’m worried about your breathing.”
“Sorry,” I said to Janet, not quite sure why I was apologising for having to go to hospital. “Thanks for coming to help us.”
Janet shrugged. “Of course, I helped. What did you expect me to do? Twiddle my thumbs?”
“What happened to Toby?”
“They got him out of the house.”
“He’s alive?” I managed to croak.
“Yes, although for how long is anyone’s guess. He’s badly burned. No less than he deserves. With any luck, he won’t make it.”
“Is Jason okay?” I wheezed.
“Looks like it. When Lizzie told him you’d pulled him out of the house, he acted like you were the second coming or something.” She rolled her eyes. “Isn’t Abbie wonderful? So Brave!” Janet mimicked, pulling a face. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be singing your praises quite so highly if he’d seen the clumsy way you pulled him down the front steps, hitting his head. Still…” She paused and looked down her nose at me. “I suppose it was quite brave.” She shrugged.
Then she disappeared, leaving me and the two paramedics alone.
“Is she always like that?” The male paramedic asked as he packed up the box of sterile wipes he’d used to clean my head wound.
“Yes,” I said shaking my head and smiling.
Despite her prickly, obtuse nature, Janet had some good traits. Unfortunately, she hid them well.
“She’s not really a relative, is she?” he asked.
I shook my head and winced as the throbbing at the side of my skull intensified.
“Is she a friend of yours then?” the female paramedic asked, raising an eyebrow.
I hesitated, before finally saying, “Yes, she is.”
Epilogue
Two Months Later
I drove through the village, slowing as I passed Jason Owens’s cottage. It was in a sorry state. The thatched roof had burned quickly, despite the efforts of the fire brigade. The fire had swept through the interior, causing major damage, but the renovation work had started. A transit van belonging to a local building firm was parked outside.
I’d seen Jason a few times since the fire. He thanked me profusely for coming back to save him, but there would always be an awkwardness between us. The drink we were meant to share didn’t get mentioned again, and we’d never be more than acquaintances now.
I’d suspected him of a terrible crime, and I couldn’t blame him for being unable to get past that. I tightened my hands on the steering wheel and pressed down on the accelerator, heading through the village towards Fleet Hill.
A job at the Royal Berkshire Hospital had been advertised six weeks ago, and I’d decided to apply. I was thrilled when I got the job. It was only a temporary role, working shifts as a staff nurse on the general medical wards, but it was just what I needed. I was tired of running away.
I wouldn’t be going back to India any time soon. After everything that had happened, Sienna needed her friends and family around her. The last two months had been a time of adjustment. Sienna had decided she wanted to keep the baby, and everyone was trying to get used to the idea. It was hard to see Sienna as anything other than a child herself.
I turned into the driveway, and the large yew tree towered over me. Its boughs stretched out, shading the gravel, but it no longer seemed threatening. The evil and menace Angie spoke of had dissipated.
The exterior of Yew Tree House now appeared welcoming and homely, rather than ominous. I heard Charlie’s familiar bark before the door opened.
Steve answered the front door with a smile. Slowly, day by day, I was noticing an improvement. He no longer appeared to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. At times, he would seem lost, looking off into space, perhaps remembering happier times with Nicole, but he’d taken the news about Sienna’s pregnancy relatively well once he’d overcome the initial shock.
He’d converted one of the guest bedrooms into a nursery and was full of plans to baby proof the house.
Charlie trotted over to me, wagging his tail manically as I reached down to pet him.
“I’ve come to take Charlie for his walk,” I said, grinning at the Labrador’s enthusiastic welcome.
“Have you got time for a cup of tea?”
“That would be lovely.” I followed Steve inside and sat down at the kitchen table as he busied himself making the tea.
“Where’s Sienna?”
“She’s gone out with Zach. They’ve gone into Reading, shopping. He needs some new jeans, apparently.”
I’d never seen Zach wear anything but black. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about colours clashing.
“Excuse the mess,” Steve said, nodding to a collection of small biodegradable garden pots. “I was just about to take them outside when the doorbell rang.”
The last time I’d visited, Steve had told me his plans to build two large greenhouses on some land he owned in Crowthorne and how he intended to set up a nursery business.
If it were anyone else, I would have thought they were overreaching by jumping so quickly into a new business, but something told me Steve would be successful. He was a hard worker, but more importantly, he seemed to have an enthusiasm he’d never had for his investment business.
“Is it planting time now?” I asked. “I would have thought this was the wrong time of year.”
“Depends what you’re planting,” Steve answered with a wink and pointed at the garden seed catalogue on the kitchen table.
I flicked through it until he sat opposite and set a mug of tea in front of me.
“So how are things with you, Abbie?”
“Pretty good. Work is going well. Although getting used to the shift pattern is taking a bit of time.” I smiled, picked up my cup and took a sip before tentatively asking, “Has there been any news on Toby?”
A flash of anger passed across his face. “Still the same,” he said, staring down at his tea.
Toby’s burns had covered most of his body, and he’d been in intensive care for the past two months. I hated him for what he’d done to Nicole, and every time I thought about what he’d done to Sienna, it made me feel sick.
Sometimes I’d lie awake at night thinking about what would be an appropriate punishment for a man like Toby Walsh. If he died, that would be an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a death for a death, but if he lived, he would s
uffer disfigurement and endure a trial and then imprisonment. Maybe that was more fitting?
“Any news on the investigation?” I asked, referring to Toby’s embezzlement.
Steve shook his head sadly. “It looks like the investigation will be ongoing for some time.”
Their business assets and accounts had been frozen. Fortunately, Steve had a diverse portfolio of investments, and my concern he could lose Yew Tree House was unfounded. It turned out Steve was far wealthier than I’d realised. Money was one thing that wouldn’t be a problem.
But money didn’t make losing Nicole any easier to bear.
As I was draining the last of my tea, Charlie nuzzled my leg.
Steve laughed. “I think somebody is telling you he’d like to go for his walk now.”
I smiled. “I think you’re right.”
After saying goodbye to Steve, Charlie and I walked down Fleet Hill, sticking to the grass verge. Rather than walk into Finchampstead village, we headed the other way, towards Eversley.
The October air was crisp. It was a bright sunny day, but there was a nip in the air, which was invigorating. I’d taken to walking Charlie at least once a week. I loved dogs, and as I didn’t have one of my own, I liked to borrow Charlie.
We’d almost reached the junction where Fleet Hill met the A327 when I heard a car slow as it approached us from behind.
I turned and saw Angie Macgregor’s, silver mini. Angie was behind the wheel waving at me. When she pulled up beside us, I leaned down to look in the passenger window.
“I thought it was you,” Angie said. “Everything all right?”
“Yes, thanks. I’m just taking Charlie for a walk.”
“Fancy a drink?” Angie gestured to the pub just in front of us, The Tally-ho.
“Sure,” I said.
Angie pulled in to the car park, and I followed on foot with Charlie. When she got out of the car, Angie suggested we sit outside so we would have some privacy, and she went into the pub to get the drinks.
No one else was sitting outside on the chilly October afternoon. So we had the garden to ourselves. I sat down at one of the wooden benches, and Charlie settled beside me. Before long, Angie came out with a soda water and lime for me and an orange juice for her.
“I’m glad I caught you, Abbie. There’s something I’ve been wanting to say,” she said, setting the drinks on the table.
“Oh?”
“I wanted to thank you for listening to me. Most people would have dismissed me as a daft, superstitious, old woman. I’m so glad you came back when I called. I didn’t know who else to turn to. Even after Nicole died, I sensed the danger hadn’t left us. If you hadn’t come back, that evil man would have killed Sienna, too. I’m sure of it. And who knows if the police would ever have linked him to their deaths.”
“I’m sure they would have done.”
I felt uncomfortable. I hadn’t done much at all. I still had dark moments when I wondered how I could have done more. Should I have paid more attention to the things Nicole said during our weekly conversations? If I’d come back regularly to see her and my goddaughter maybe I would have been able to help.
Toby Walsh saw himself as the victim. The way he’d described having no alternative other than to shoot Nicole… and his need to tie up loose ends by killing me, Jason and Sienna made my blood run cold.
To think Nicole had once tried to set me up with that man… I shivered.
“Are you all right, lovey?”
I nodded and reached down to pet Charlie. His warm, solid body pressing against my leg was comforting.
“Yes, sorry, I was just thinking.”
“I can tell by your expression you’re thinking about that awful man,” Angie said and then pursed her lips together. She couldn’t even bring herself to utter Toby’s name.
The police had found the murder weapon. Toby had stashed the shotgun he’d used to kill Nicole in his flat in Reading. He must have been extremely confident he’d get away with it. So confident, he didn’t even try to get rid of the incriminating evidence.
Had he really just meant to frighten Nicole that day? Had she believed he was bluffing? Had she laughed at him? Was there a moment just before she died when she realised she was dealing with a madman?
Sienna had kept the letters Toby had written to her and they made sickening reading. Leaving evidence like that was yet another example of his arrogance. He thought he was too clever to be caught. We assumed the letters were how Nicole found out about Toby’s relationship with her teenage daughter. Sienna insisted she’d never told anyone. The theory made sense, but we would never know for sure.
“Did you hear Sienna is having a wee girl?” Angie asked, her cheeks dimpling in a rare smile.
“Yes,” I said. “Marilyn went to the scan with her, didn’t she?”
Angie sighed. “Aye, though I think she found it difficult. Very emotional. Sienna told her she’s going to name the baby Nicole.”
I’d been impressed with how Marilyn had handled the situation. It seemed she was taking the news of Sienna’s pregnancy better than she had Nicole’s.
It was as though she wanted to draw a line under what had happened and move on, think about the positive things in the future, not dwell on the tragedies of the past.
I was glad Marilyn was embracing the idea of becoming a great-grandmother. She’d even started knitting booties and a little cardigan for the baby.
And Janet and I…well, we’d never be bosom buddies exactly, but we had an understanding. We both wanted what was best for Sienna.
“I hoped to see Sienna today when I picked up Charlie, but she’s gone shopping with Zach,” I told Angie. “Do you know what she’s decided to do about Eric Ross?”
Angie gave a disapproving sniff. “She doesn’t want anything to do with him, and I can’t say I blame her.”
That was exactly what Sienna had said when I’d asked her last week. I wondered if she would change her mind eventually. In time, she might want to get to know her half brother and sister.
“Did you ever find out why Eric Ross lied about coming to the house to see Nicole?” Angie asked.
“Apparently, it was because he thought it might make the police suspicious.”
Angie’s eyes widened. “How did he get to be a professor with such a total lack of intelligence?” she asked sharply with a disapproving shake of her head. “Surely it’s more suspicious that he lied about it!”
“That’s what I think, too, but people do strange things under stress.”
I asked after Jock and then Angie checked the time. “Oh goodness me! I’d better get back. He’ll be wondering where I am. We were supposed to be doing some gardening this afternoon.”
After Angie left, Charlie and I resumed our walk, walking over the bridge which sat at the borderline between Hampshire and Berkshire. I gazed down into the dark, gurgling water.
Charlie stood patiently beside me on the bridge, watching the river. He’d perked up a little these past few weeks, as though, in his own way, he was slowly coming to terms with Nicole’s death. I supposed we all were.
Charlie bumped my legs gently with his head. It was his signal he was ready to continue our walk. I looked up at the bright October sky and took a deep breath. I’d always miss my beautiful, kind-hearted friend, but it was comforting to imagine Nicole was up there somewhere, looking down on us.
I smiled down at Nicole’s dog. “You’re right Charlie. It’s time to head home.”
Thank you for reading!
An Extract From Lost Child
CHAPTER ONE
I think about the day I lost Jenna all the time. It’s always with me.
People say the pain lessens over time, but I’m not sure that’s true. Every time I remember, my stomach twists as I’m reminded of how I let everyone down, my sister most of all. I only took my eyes off Jenna for a second. But a second was all it took to lose her.
The day it happened, the twenty-fifth of May, was a bank holiday. The
weather was sunny and warm in the small market town of Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, a hint that summer was finally on its way after a cold and rainy spring. I had grown up in Woodstock. The town seemed so ordinary and safe. Perhaps, that was why I’d let my guard down. Nothing bad happened in Woodstock. It was a quintessentially English town, a safe haven.
My father had died suddenly five years ago, shortly before my sister, Kate, had fallen pregnant with Jenna. As Mum wasn’t keen on rattling around the big house on her own, and Kate and her partner, Daniel Creswell, were living in a one-bedroom flat, it seemed logical for them to move in with Mum for a while.
Kate and Daniel married the year after Jenna was born, and Daniel progressed well in his career as a graphic designer. I was sure they could have afforded to buy their own place after the first year, but there was no need. The arrangement worked well for everyone. The house was large enough for Mum to have her own sitting room, and she was tolerant, easy to live with and adored Jenna.
Kate liked to joke she had a live-in babysitter. When I look back at that time now, I wish I had appreciated it more. We had so many happy memories.
Although I’d moved away from Woodstock, I hadn’t gone far. I had a one-bedroom flat in Oxford, near the train station. I enjoyed living in the hustle and bustle of the city, but I came back to Woodstock every weekend. Sunday lunch at my mother’s house was a ritual I didn’t want to miss.
It was a good job Mum was easy-going because I’m sure living with Daniel Creswell would have driven most people to distraction. It wasn’t that he was a nasty man, and he didn’t treat my sister or Jenna badly, but he could be condescending and always wanted to be the subject of the conversation.
If you told him you had a pet elephant, Daniel would have a bigger one and the box to put it in. The constant one-upmanship irritated me, but Mum and Kate didn’t seem to notice. The simple truth was they were nicer than me.
On the day it happened, my patience was already wearing thin with Daniel. He’d dominated the conversation yesterday over Sunday lunch, droning on about how successful he was and describing his recent business trip to Barcelona. When I asked whether he’d gone to see any sights, he informed me he wasn’t there as a tourist and was far too busy to explore the city. I hadn’t done anything more than roll my eyes, but that was enough for Mum to send a chastising look in my direction. I was very familiar with that look.
