Edward nodded. ‘Yes, I’m afraidso. It’s so not like her, Edie. She’s been missing sinceWednesday. We have to find her. Will you help?’
‘Of course.’
‘Good. Could you make your way outto my parents’ house and see if she’s there or if they’ve seen any sign ofher?’
‘Okay,’ Edith answered.
‘And knock on doors on the way—there areonly a few houses on the main road. If you can, have them checkout-buildings, empty sheds—that sort of thing.’
‘Do you really think it’s that serious?’Edith asked, hoping that he was simply erring on the side of caution.
He nodded. ‘I’ve got a bad feelingabout it.’
Edith reached out and squeezed hishand. All ill-feelings towards Edward and Mary had entirelyvanished. As she looked into his sad face, she realised that her resentmenttowards her twin was based on jealousy rather than any real, deep feelings forEdward.
Edward smiled at Edith as she let go ofhis hand, turned and left the village.
As she made her way along the main road,Edith passed several people knocking on doors in the pursuit of Mary. Edwardmust really be in love with her to have organised all of this, she thoughtas she walked briskly in the midday sunshine.
There were only four properties on theless than two mile walk to Icklesham. Each was a farm, complete with amyriad sprawling outbuildings. When she reached the first property, Edithsuddenly felt a little silly at the prospect of asking a stranger to searchtheir property for her missing twin. Is this really necessary? She’s only been missing three days. Knowing Mary, she’s taken herself offsomewhere to recover from the embarrassment of losing her job then she’ll swanback like nothing’s happened, wondering what all the fuss is about. It’sjust like the number of times she was sent home from school for bad behaviour.
Edith paused in the gabled porch way, notquite able to lift the heavy black door-knocker. ‘Come on, Edith,’ shesaid to herself. ‘Mary might need you.’ She raised her hand andwrapped the semi-circle knocker onto the decorative plate behind it.
The door was pulled open by a shortelderly woman with a pleasant face. ‘Hello. How can I help?’
Edith smiled. ‘Hello. Sorry todisturb you, I’m looking for my twin sister who disappeared last week. Her name is Mary Mercer and she’s my height with big red curly hair. Youcouldn’t mistake her. Have you seen her by any chance?’
The old woman shook her head. ‘No,definitely not seen anyone matching that description. Sorry, my love.’
‘Would you mind terribly just having aquick look in your farm buildings, just in case she’s there?’
The woman frowned, evidently not keen onthe idea of searching for a trespasser. ‘I’ll have a quick looknow. You wait here. If she is here, she wants to keep well out ofmy husband’s way, let me tell you. He doesn’t take kindly to travellerfolk and itinerants on his land.’
Before Edith could interject and say thather sister was neither a traveller nor itinerant, the door was closed.
The longer she waited, the morepreposterous the search felt to Edith. What really were the chances ofMary being stowed in the barn of an Icklesham farm? It made no sense.
‘Sorry, my love, nothing,’ the old womansaid when she eventually returned. ‘Good luck—hope you find her. We’ll keep an eye out.’
‘Thanks,’ Edith said, and turned back tocontinue her walk along the main road.
After the second, then third and fourthfarmhouse all returned the same negative outcomes, Edith became moreapprehensive. For her part of the search being carried out, everythingrelied on her aunt and uncle having seen or heard from Mary sinceWednesday.
Her aunt and uncle lived in a small whiteweather-boarded cottage close to Icklesham church. Again, Edith washesitant about knocking. In the window, she caught sight of her aunt whoseemed perplexed to see her.
‘Edith! What are you doing here? Just out for a walk?’ her aunt called through the open window.
‘Not really, I’m looking for Mary. Can I come in?’
Her aunt opened the door and, at the sightof her warm familiarity, Edith burst into tears.
‘Oh my poor thing, whatever’s thematter? Come inside.’
Despitethe clear skies that had mercifully dominated the day, at just afterseven-thirty the day began to give way to the night. Edward and the fewremaining searchers were standing on Friar’s Road outside the Mercer familyhome, anxious with despair. None of them had spoken for several minutes,each too absorbed with their own theories and conclusions, drawn from theoutcome of the day’s searches: nobody had discovered anything. Edward hadno new leads to go on—there had been absolutely no sightings at all of Marysince Wednesday. To him, it seemed as though she had been plucked fromthe face of the earth, which worried him immensely. He could cope withher running away, even if it did mean the end of their courtship. What hecouldn’t cope with was the idea that something untoward had happened toher. He couldn’t shake an unpleasant recurring thought: that Mary waslying dead somewhere where she would never be found. That idea hadhaunted and clouded his every thought. There was now only one possibilityleft for today and that was Edith. She had yet to return fromIcklesham. The fact that she had been so long heartened Edward; he keptexpecting the two of them to waltz in, arm-in-arm with a tale to tell.
The streets grew darker, the darknessbringing with it a stark chill in the air. Edward could only just makeout the corner of the street and was now starting to worry about Edith. Shouldhe go and search for her now?
‘What’s taking her so long?’ Edith’s mumasked, evidently thinking the same as he was. ‘She should’ve been homehours ago.’
‘You don’t think the pair of them are upto something?’ Caroline mused.
Edward bit his lip through fear of sayingsomething he might regret. All day Caroline had
