estate in Galloway. I’ve been useful to him now and then. They come here to escape pressure of business, apparently. No phone, nobody knows when they’re here, except for his loyal secretary. Good idea, eh, Father?”
Walter stared at him, breathing hard.
“And now,” continued Edward, oblivious to everything except the success of his plan so far, “now he and his wife are off in some godforsaken tropical holiday spot for three months. Sent me the keys, bless ‘em. Still,” he added with a grin, “they owe me a favour or two.” He turned to Enid. “Get the kettle on, and we’ll have a bedtime drink when I come back. I’ll get a few supplies from a late-night opening place I saw on the way in. Shouldn’t be more than half an hour. All right, Father?”
Walter nodded mutely, his eyes half-shut.
“Right,” said Enid brightly. “Off you go, Edward. Bring enough food for a couple of meals. I’ll sort things out, and make up beds, and then we’ll get Father settled. He can sleep as long as he likes tomorrow.” She patted her father’s hand, and closed the door behind Edward with relief. She heard him put the key in the lock and turn it. So they were to be prisoners, in case she should alert someone to their whereabouts. Well, she would think of a way round that one, too.
Her father looked poorly, with a blue line around his lips. Those stairs had been too much. She was sure of that. It was even more urgent to work out a way of getting him back home, and she began to unpack and make up beds as rapidly as possible. The sooner she convinced Edward that they were staying with him, the easier it would be to escape.
? Weeping on Wednesday ?
Thirty-Nine
Gran had woken up in the middle of the night, certain that she had heard a strange noise from downstairs. She had tiptoed down, holding the old golf club that she always kept under her bed, and now saw with a shiver of fear that a light was on in the kitchen.
“Mum? What on earth is that in your hand?” Lois sat at the kitchen table, mug of hot milk in hand, staring at her mother.
“And what on earth are
“Well, one thing’s certain,” said Lois, starting to laugh, “I’m not goin’ out for a quick round of golf!”
Gran sat down at the table and put the club down at her feet. “You know perfectly well I keep it under the bed in case of intruders,” she said. “It was your father’s idea, and a very good one, too. Now, you haven’t answered my question. Why aren’t you in bed asleep?”
“I woke up and couldn’t get off again, so I came down to do a few jobs and not wake Derek.”
“You’re worried about something,” said Gran baldly. “Same thing as me, I expect. I can’t stop thinking about Enid Abraham.”
“And her mother,” added Lois. “They all seem to have disappeared off the face of the earth.”
They were quiet for a minute, and then Gran said, “It’s that Edward, isn’t it? He’s taken them away somewhere, and we’ll never see them again.” She rubbed her eyes, and her lip quivered.
“Oh, yes we will,” said Lois. “We’ll find them, Mum, even if the lousy police have given up. Between us, we ought to be able to think of something that’ll put us on track.”
“What about that car you saw them in?” Gran looked at Lois hopefully. “Surely the police can catch up with that?”
Lois shook her head. “They’ve been keeping watch,” she said, “but there’s no trace.”
“He’s switched cars, then,” said Gran, who loved detective series on the box, and knew all the dodges.
“Very likely,” said Lois. “But that shouldn’t stop them being seen. They’ve got to eat, and pee, and end up somewhere. People don’t just disappear for good.”
“Some do,” said Gran gloomily.
“Maybe one on his own, but not four, and one of ‘em a frail old man,” Lois answered.
Again they fell silent, Gran frowning with the effort of trying to recall something useful.
“Where did they come from before they moved to Cathanger?” said Lois.
“Somewhere up north,” said Gran. “Can’t remember where. I expect the police have made enquiries.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Lois said sourly. They were silent for a moment, and then Lois slapped her hand down on the table. “Blimey! Why didn’t I think of it before? Enid’s job application…had all the details.” Lois stood up briskly and left the kitchen. She was back in seconds, holding the application letter. “Here we are!” she said triumphantly. “Edinburgh! That’s where they lived. And Enid worked in a chemist. Her father was caretaker in a school, and her mother came from round here.”
“So we know quite a lot,” said Gran, cheering up. Then she subsided. “There must be dozens of chemists in Edinburgh,” she said. “And schools. And we don’t know her mother’s maiden name.”
“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence!” said Lois, picking up the golf club and handing it to her mother. “Tomorrow, first thing, you’re going to see your pals in the WI. One of them’ll know who Mrs Abraham was before she married, you bet. Nothing escapes that lot. And I shall get busy on the web. Can’t be too difficult to find a list of Edinburgh chemists and schools and make a few calls. Now, back to bed, Mum. We shall have Derek down here in a minute.”
On cue, the door opened and a sleepy, irritated Derek came in. “What the bloody hell are you two doing?”
“Practising our golf swings, o’course,” said Lois, turning him round and patting his pyjama’d bottom. “Off we all go, now. Busy day tomorrow. Night-night, Mum. Put the lights out for us, will you?”
¦
Next morning, Lois decided her first priority was to do something she’d decided on last night, but not told her mother. The real reason she had come down in the night had been a recurring nightmare she could not shake off. She was standing in pouring rain on a dark, stormy night on the bridge by Cathanger. The water was rising and she felt it slowly submerging her. Then she was afloat, over the edge of the bridge, and being tossed in the dark water. Carried downstream, gasping and trying to keep her head above water, she had felt the blow as she hit the dam, and this woke her, shaking and bathed in sweat.
There was only one thing to do, and she intended to do it this morning. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky, and nothing down by the bridge would be sinister or likely to inflame her imagination. She would walk by the edge of the stream, past the dam and beyond, as far as she could go. If she found nothing untoward, it would be her best chance of putting the nightmare to rest.
¦
By the time Lois drove through the tunnel of trees and parked in a field opening, the sun had gone and heavy clouds threatened rain. She pulled on a waterproof jacket and headed back down the lane towards the bridge. A vehicle passed her, and somebody waved. Rosie Charrington, on her way to the shops in Tresham. Lois reflected on how quickly the Charringtons had been absorbed into the area, quickly accepted by the natives. He was a vet, and a vital part of farming life. No matter that the inside of Bell’s farm looked like the interior decor department of the smartest store in Tresham, or that the kids were looked after by an au pair most of the time. Vets were OK, and their wives and kids and etceteras likewise.
Not so the Abrahams. They hadn’t tried, mind you, and even discouraged friendly overtures, if any. Poor Enid.
Lois climbed over the end of the bridge, and stepped gingerly along the muddy bank. She pushed her way through thicket, now in leaf and difficult to negotiate. She came to the dam, and looked back along the quietly flowing water to the bridge. It was rippling and clear, and concealed nothing but an old oil drum, rusting and open at both ends. Nothing there, then. She examined the dam, and saw the division of the stream into two rivulets. They had been rushing torrents on that dreadful night, but now ambled gently round the dam and joined up again the other side. Lois peered down into the thickly woven branches and bits of old timber and saw nothing out of the way. Then a white flicker at the water’s edge caught her eye. She leaned over precariously, and managed to grab a small piece of cloth, closely entangled in the twigs. She pulled, but it didn’t shift.
Then she leaned over too far, and put out one foot to save herself toppling in. Water came in over her shoe
