a basilisk stare and moved away.
“Lois, we need to talk. About the Abrahams,” he said quickly. “I’ll ring you tomorrow morning, nine o’clock. Be there, won’t you.” Then he was gone, putting on a benign face, leaving her to resume her seat next to a large man who had an appalling cold and no handkerchief.
When she finally found her car in a totally blacked out village street, she was soaked to the skin. The rain fell in sheets, driven by a strong wind, and as Lois stepped into the road to unlock the door, her foot was submerged in an icy puddle. “Shit!” she said. She climbed into the car and took off her shoe. Halfway along the road to Long Farnden, she saw in front of her what looked like a broad lake, stretching from hedge to hedge. The ditches must have overflowed whilst she’d been in the school. Now what? Maybe they’d drained the swollen mill stream on the Fletcham road. She knew Enid was contacting the council. It was worth a try. She reversed into a gateway, had difficulty with skidding wheels, but finally retraced her way to Waltonby. This time she took the turn to Fletcham, going slowly and peering through the driving rain as she approached the tunnel of trees near Cathanger. Halfway through, her engine spluttered, juddered and finally died. She realized she was stuck in the middle of a rushing flood.
“Oh, no!” Lois yelled to no one at all. “What the hell am I going to do?”
She squelched her foot back into its shoe, and opened her door. Rain lashed into the car, and she retreated into her seat. Derek would have to come and rescue her. She reached for her bag and took out her mobile. No comforting little screen lit up. Dead as mutton. Then she remembered she’d meant to charge it up last night. She threw it on to the back seat and gritted her teeth. Nothing else for it. She’d have to go and get help. And the nearest habitation was Cathanger Mill, well-known for its warm welcome and ever-open hospitality…She could try to get to the Charringtons, but was pretty sure Rosie had said they’d be away all week. Skiing, or something stupid. Lois banged her fists on the steering wheel, heaped abuse on her unresponsive car, and got out into the storm.
Everywhere, on every side, was the fearful sound of rushing water. She kept to the side by the verge, and as she approached the bridge, grabbed the handrail with relief. The flood in the road was deep, and flowing so fast that she felt as if her feet were about to be swept away any minute. She stopped to get her breath back, and turned to look down into the noisy stream. It was a torrent, and in the glimmer of light filtering through the overhanging trees, she could see it about to burst its banks further down stream. A natural dam had formed, made of twigs and detritus washed down from the fields, and in the urgency of finding a new pathway, the stream had divided into two channels.
Something solid in the world of swirling water caught her eye. It appeared from under the bridge, rolling and bobbing in the current. She watched it, trying to see what it was, but in the almost complete darkness, she could make out only a dark shape. But it was big. Moving fast. When it reached the dam, it lurched into the mass of wood and stones and stuck. Lois tried hard to focus on some part of it that might give her a clue. Then, suddenly emerging above the waterline, she saw a white, face-shaped blur.
Lois screamed. Everything swam around her, and she grabbed the rail with both hands, feeling herself falling. She was part of the watery world, her shoes full and heavy, her sodden hair conducting rivulets of water down her neck, her hands slippery and frozen. With a huge effort, she shook herself like an old, wet dog, and began to run as best she could, stumbling, sloshing and sliding, until she reached the entrance to Cathanger Mill.
Halfway up the drive, she turned her ankle in a pothole, and cried out. But the wind carried her voice up and away. She limped on, until the dark outline of the house showed amongst the trees. They must be there, she thought desperately, although no lights showed. Thick curtains, probably, to keep out the draughts. Enid had told her about the difficulties with her mother. Darkness was one of her little ways, no doubt, to repel all boarders.
Just as she approached the door, she saw it open and someone step out into the yard.
“Mr Abraham?” she said loudly, and saw his head whip round and something gun-shaped raised in her direction. “Please!” she shouted. “It’s me, Lois Meade…your Enid works for me. Can you help? Please! There’s somebody in the stream!”
After what seemed like hours to Lois, Mr Abraham went back into the house, and then reappeared with a big torch and an old, broken umbrella which he handed to Lois. “You’d better show me,” he said.
“Too late for that,” Lois said, refusing the umbrella.
“Follow me,” said Mr Abrahams. “You look as if you’ve hurt your leg. I know the way to avoid the potholes. Stay close behind.”
Lois was only too pleased. She’d never spoken to him before, not in the shop or round the village, but he sounded more nervous than angry at being disturbed. The rain was lighter now, and it was easier to see over the bridge and downstream to the dam. Mr Abraham shone his torch, but it was too weak to be much good.
“Looks like it’s gone,” said Lois flatly.
“If there was anything,” said Walter Abraham. “The shadows play funny tricks. Could’ve been an old sack or something caught in a whirlpool. This water’s running so fast it could do that. That’s what I reckon – a whirlpool. Shame it frightened you.”
But Lois was not satisfied. She had seen more than a whirlpool. “Could it’ve moved on, got taken downstream, round the side of the dam?” she said.
Mr Abraham shook his head. “Dunno,” he said. “Most of the water’s backing up. That’s why it’s flooding the road. Better get back now. I’ll get out there tomorrow and try to clear it.”
Lois felt frustrated. She was quite sure she had seen a face, and from the helpless way it was tossed about by the water, there was not much life in it. But there was nothing more she could do. “Could you keep a good lookout for anything that might have been…well, you know…?” she said, but was not encouraged by his blank expression.
The sound of a car distracted them. Lights approached the flood, and a Land Rover loomed into sight. The door opened and a tall figure got out. “Hi! Need any help?”
“Bill!” shouted Lois, and sloshed quickly towards him. She’d seen him at the conceit, talking to a pleasant- looking girl by the stage. His Rebecca, no doubt.
“Mrs M? What the…?”
She explained, and asked if he would take a look at the dam.
But Bill came to the same conclusion as Mr Abraham. It must have been a sack, or an old cardboard box in the whirlpool. Between them they pushed her car out of the water and got it going again.
“Lucky I was around,” said Bill. “Had to take someone home to Farnden. I’ll turn around and follow you,” he added, “just to make sure.”
Mr Abraham disappeared into the darkness without another word.
? Weeping on Wednesday ?
Thirteen
“Lois? Good morning, how are you after that stimulating theatrical experience at the school?”
“Ha ha,” said Lois. She had finished breakfast, and was sitting in her office staring into space. Last night, when she had appeared, soaked to the skin and dripping pools of icy water on the kitchen floor, they had greeted her with silence.
Finally Derek had spoken. “I’m not goin’ to say nothing,” he said, “but if you come home looking like that again, I am imposing a curfew. Not allowed out after six thirty on your own. That’s all.” He had turned off the alarm clock, and warned Gran to let her sleep in.
Before she’d gone to bed, she had looked in on Jamie. He’d been complaining about a sore throat again, but had insisted on waiting up for her until Derek sent him to bed. He had looked peaceful enough, and she’d bent to kiss his warm cheek. She’d let him down again.
“Lois? Are you there?”
“Yes, Inspector Cowgill,” she sighed. “I’m here. What d’you want to talk about?”
It would be much better if she’d never heard from Cowgill again, but nagging away at her was that tossing body in the torrent, the white face above the flood. If he needed her, she certainly needed him right now.
“We have to find a new place to meet,” he said firmly. “The woods are impossible after all the rain. Any
