Midnight is a Lonely Place

XXXVI

‘Where is Allie?’ Diana looked around the kitchen as though it was only the first time she had noticed her daughter’s absence. It was two hours since they had finished lunch – a meal to which Kate had been invited without hesitation and one which she had accepted with equal alacrity. Alison had appeared for the first course but she had barely touched it and, making her excuses, had retired upstairs to sleep. ‘Run and see how she is, Patrick, will you, dear?’ She and Kate had finished the dishes together and a new kettle of water was brewing on the Aga. ‘She ought to eat something.’

Patrick vanished upstairs. Diana smiled. ‘I know I’m being silly to worry, but I can’t help it. She’s not right yet.’

‘Do you think you ought to take her to the doctor?’ Kate lined up six mugs on the table.

Diana’s reply was interrupted by Patrick’s shout. ‘Ma! She’s not up here.’

Diana stared across the room towards the staircase. ‘What do you mean she’s not up there? Of course she is.’

‘She’s not. And she’s not in the loo. I’ve looked everywhere.’ Patrick reappeared.

Roger had been dozing by the fire. Pushing a heap of cats off his lap he stood up. ‘She must be somewhere. This is not a very big house. You had better find her.’ He could not keep the anxiety out of his voice.

‘She’s gone.’ Diana threw down the oven glove she had donned to pick up the kettle. ‘She’s gone back to that bloody grave.’

‘No.’ Kate’s whisper was lost as Roger threw his newspaper down.

‘She can’t have. She wouldn’t be so stupid. God! It will be dark in another hour.’ He strode to the door.

‘Look for her jacket, darling.’ Diana was standing in the middle of the floor, frozen with fear.

‘It’s gone.’ He was rummaging through the stack of coats and waterproofs on the pegs inside the front door. ‘So have her boots.’

Greg had disappeared into the study with his cup of coffee after they had finished the meal. At the sound of Roger’s raised voice he opened the door and peered out. ‘What’s up?’

‘It’s your sister. She seems to have gone out.’

Greg’s eyes sought Kate’s. His face was suddenly very grim.

‘Kate and I will go and look for her,’ he said. ‘We’ll take the Land Rover. Don’t worry, Ma. She’ll be all right. She’s not a fool. If she’s taken her coat and boots she’ll be warm enough and it shows she is being sensible.’

‘I’ll go with you.’ His father was reaching for his own coat but Greg put his hand on his arm. ‘No, Dad, no need. Honestly. Kate and I will find her. You stay here with Ma. You never know. She may just have gone for a walk in the garden. We may be panicking for nothing.’ He smiled into the silence. None of them believed that; they all knew where she had gone.

The Land Rover was cold. Hauling herself into the passenger seat Kate dug her hands deep into her pockets, waiting in the silent vehicle as Greg walked round to the driver’s side and pulled open the door. He climbed in and reached for the ignition key, glancing at her. ‘How long do you reckon she’s been gone?’

‘It could have been hours. Would we have noticed if she’d gone out while we were still eating?’

He shrugged. ‘She had to come through the living room to reach the front door. The trouble was we were talking so hard I don’t suppose we would have noticed her even if she had jumped up and shouted at us.’ He rammed in the gear and eased the car away from the side of the house. ‘Did you throw in the blankets?’

Kate nodded. Her stomach was cold and shivery. Her mouth had gone dry. ‘Something out there is calling her.’

‘Well, they can call away. She is not going.’ Greg swung the Land Rover onto the track, feeling the tyres slipping sideways as they tried to grip the mud.

Under the trees they were suddenly aware of how soon it would be dusk. The shadows beneath the pine and larch were softly black; in the distance the wood was dark. The headlights cut a swathe through the undergrowth, lighting up patches of yellow where willow whips were already showing signs of spring to come in spite of the cold.

‘Do you think we should check for footprints, to make sure she did come this way?’ Kate asked tentatively. She grabbed at the door to try and stop herself sliding off the seat.

‘We know she came this way,’ Greg shot her a quick look. ‘Fasten your seat belt, then you won’t get thrown off if we tip over. This track will be impassable if we get any more rough weather.’ He whirled the wheel round as the vehicle skidded sideways into a pothole.

‘Perhaps if you went a bit slower.’

‘We’ve got to get there before she does. Hell’s teeth!’ He hauled at a gear lever, forcing them back onto the track. A spatter of raindrops hit the windscreen as they brushed some trailing ivies and clematis, the bare, woody branches of traveller’s joy already showing tiny new buds. Ahead, on the track something moved. He slowed the Land Rover and they both peered through the streaked windscreen. ‘What was it? Is it Allie?’ Kate leaned forward eagerly.

He shook his head grimly. ‘Deer.’ He pulled the wheel round. ‘Christ, how far has she got?’

‘Is there another way? Could she have taken a short cut?’

‘I don’t think so. This is the short cut. Everyone always goes the quickest way.’

Kate looked across at him. The worry was clearly etched into his face, the lines between nose and mouth drawn tight and deep, the frown lines between his eyes accentuated in the near-darkness. For all his constant bickering with his sister he obviously loved her deeply. She felt a wave of something like affection for him. Curbing her instinct to touch his shoulder in an attempt to give him some sort of comfort she stared ahead through the windscreen once more. ‘She’ll be all right. We’ll find her.’

‘Indeed we will.’ His voice was grim.

They drove on for several minutes in silence, then Kate let out a cry. ‘There she is! Look. Over there.’

Greg swung the Land Rover off the track towards the figure sheltering beneath a tree. They had drawn up beside it and Greg was already opening his door before they realised at the same moment that it was not Allie. The figure which staggered towards them was that of a man. Suddenly Kate recognised him.

‘Bill!’ She leaped out of her seat and ran round the vehicle, slipping in the mud. ‘Bill, what are you doing here?’

‘Watch out. He’s hurt.’ Greg caught her arm, stopping her in her tracks. In the light of the headlamps they could both see the stream of blood running down his face.

‘Bill?’ Her stomach turning over with fright, Kate put her hand on Bill’s arm. ‘Bill, are you all right? It’s Kate.’ The look he turned on her was completely blank.

‘I’ll get one of those blankets.’ Greg turned and sped back to the car. Returning, he pulled the warm rug round Bill’s shoulders. ‘Can you walk, old chap? Come on. Only a few steps. Kate, open the back door. Help me boost him in. Christ, what’s happened to him?’

Her mouth dry with fear, Kate helped Greg push Bill up onto a back seat. He was a big man and his limbs did not appear to be co-ordinating properly. She could feel him shivering under the thick blanket. She climbed in beside him, fumbling for his hand. When she found it she chafed it gently, appalled at the chill of his skin. ‘I think we should get him to hospital, Greg,’ she murmured.

Greg nodded. ‘As soon as we’ve found Allie. Has he had a fall? Hold on. I’ll get the other torch and the first aid box.’ Rummaging in the box at her feet he glanced into the darkening woods. Kate was staring at Bill’s face. That look of blank terror; the fixed, pinpoint pupils, the chilled skin. It was the same as Alison. Identical. She glanced at Greg who had slipped onto the narrow seat opposite them. ‘This is how Allie looked when I found her.’ She felt Bill give a small shudder.

‘Christ!’ Greg bit his lips. ‘Look, can you cope in the back? We’ve got to go on and find her.’

‘We’ll be OK. He’s not quite as cold as she was.’ Even so, she could hear his teeth chattering. She bent to open the first aid box. It was difficult rummaging in it in the unsteady light but she managed to find antiseptic and some dressings. As gently as she could she swabbed the blood off his forehead, wincing at the bruises on his hairline. He sat unmoving, seemingly oblivious to what she was doing, though he flinched once or twice as the swab did its work. Taping a dressing across his forehead, she was carefully mopping some of the blood that had dripped down his cheek when he gripped her wrist with sudden, ferocious strength. ‘Alison!’ he gasped.

‘Have you seen her?’ There was a strange cold sickness building in Kate’s stomach. She left her hand in his. His fingers were very strong but they were still very cold.

Bill shook his head, bewildered. He put his hand to his temple and drew it away, looking at his fingers as though he expected to see blood. He did not seem to realise there was a dressing there. ‘She hit me.’

Greg had climbed into the driving seat. He turned, his elbow over the back. ‘Alison hit you!’

‘I tried to stop her. She was with someone. The woman I saw on the beach.’ To her horror Kate saw Bill’s eyes fill with tears. ‘I wanted her to come with me,’ he went on. He was mumbling slightly. ‘I tried to stop her. I took her arm and it was then she turned on me. Her face was -’ he shook his head back and forth several times ‘- it was ferocious. She grabbed a fallen branch. It was a big one. Out there. Pine or fir or something. She lifted it up and crashed it down on my head. I must have lost consciousness. I don’t remember anything else until you came.’

‘You’re imagining it! Allie couldn’t, wouldn’t do such a thing!’ Greg said, horrified.

Kate glanced up at him.

‘What woman did you see with her, Bill?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘I saw her in the distance on the beach. She was tall. Thin. I thought it was you. She was wrapped up tightly against the wind. Her hair was long, falling down, all sort of dishevelled. She was angry. I could feel her anger.’

Greg’s eyes flicked from Bill’s face to Kate’s. He wondered briefly if he looked as frightened and shocked as she did.

She met his eye. ‘You’d better drive on, Greg,’ she said. Her voice had gone husky.

He hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded. Turning round he reached for the ignition.

Kate put her arm round Bill’s shoulders as the Land Rover lurched forward again and she felt him slump against her, shivering. As calmly as she could she edged another blanket out of the pile Greg had thrown on the floor in front of her and tucked it round him. Then she groped for his hand again and held it tightly.

It took them another ten minutes to reach the cottage. Greg swung the Land Rover to a standstill on the grass, directing the headlights past the building, down towards the beach. Kate leaned forward, staring ahead across the back of the seat. ‘I can’t see her.’

Greg reached for the torch and swung his door open. ‘You stay here. I’ll go down to the grave.’

‘I should come with you.’

‘You can’t.’ His voice was curt. Then he relented. Coming round to the back he swung the rear door open for her. For a moment he looked into Kate’s eyes. He held out his hand to help her out, and she felt him squeeze her fingers. ‘You’ve got to stay with Bill. Take him into the cottage. Get the kettle on or something. I won’t be long. We know where she’ll be.’

‘Be careful, Greg.’

‘I will.’ For a moment he stood gazing at her then he leaned forward and gave her a swift kiss on the lips.

She watched the torchlight receding into the distance. After a few moments it disappeared. The Land Rover was silent save for the ticking of the engine as it cooled. Kate swallowed. For a moment she didn’t move. Bill didn’t stir. Taking a deep breath she groped in the pocket of her jacket for the keys. She could see a pale glow of light from the window to the right of the front door where she had left the lamp switched on.

‘Where are you going?’ Bill jerked awake as she turned away.

‘To open the cottage. You’ll be more comfortable there. It’s warm. Do you think you can walk?’

‘Where’s Greg?’ He seemed aware for the first time that Greg had gone.

‘He’s looking for Allie – ’

‘On his own?’ The fear in the man’s voice made her skin crawl.

‘He’ll be all right. Greg’s a big chap. And he knows he has to be careful because you’ve warned us.’ She was astonished at how reassuring her own words sounded. ‘Shall I go and open the door first? Then I’ll come back for you.’

‘No.’ Bill’s fingers clamped around her wrist. ‘I’m coming with you.’

To her relief the house was still warm. Propping Bill against the wall, she switched on all the downstairs lights and drew the curtains. Then she looked at him properly for the first time. His face was a mass of purple bruises. There were lacerations in his scalp she had not seen in the dim torchlight. His sweater and anorak were torn and soaked with dried blood. She schooled her face carefully into a reassuring smile, hoping he had not seen her horror as she saw the extent of his injuries. ‘Bill you must lie down.’

‘No. No, I want to stand for a minute.’ He pushed himself away from the wall. ‘Can we have something hot to drink? I’m so cold.’

‘Of course. She took his arm and ensconced him on the stool in the kitchen while she reached for the kettle. All the time her ears were straining for sounds outside the house. She had locked the front door and drawn the bolt.

‘I ought to try and clean up those cuts for you a bit better,’ she said as she reached down a couple of mugs.

‘Don’t bother. I’ll be all right.’ Beneath the bruises his complexion was returning to a more normal shade. His hands though, when he reached for the coffee, were still shaking visibly.

‘Can you tell me any more about it, Bill?’ she asked quietly as she sat opposite him. ‘About the woman. Did she say anything?’

He shook his head. ‘Not a word. She just sort of hovered in the background.’

‘Hovered?’

‘Well, watched. You know. Her face was impassive. Uninvolved. She didn’t seem to care what Allie was doing.’ His voice trembled again.

‘Bill.’ Kate leaned forward and touched his hand reassuringly. ‘Allie is not herself. She had an accident of some sort on the beach.’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t think she knew what she was doing. As for this woman.’ She bit her lip. ‘God knows who she is. Bill?’ She realised suddenly that his attention had been distracted. He was staring at the curtained window, his head slightly to one side.

‘Did you hear that?’ he said.

‘What?’ She held her breath, listening.

‘I thought I heard something – a shout – I don’t know.’ He put his head in his hands.

‘Shall I go and look?’ There was nothing she wanted to do less than open the front door but Greg was out there, alone.

He shook his head mutely. ‘You can’t help him,’ he said after a minute. ‘No one can.’

‘What do you mean?’ She stared at him, whitefaced.

He shrugged. Suddenly he laughed but she saw a tear slide down his cheek. ‘I came over to ask you to supper. I bought some wine and there’s a M & S gourmet meal waiting back at my place.’

She leaned forward and reached for his mug to refill it. ‘That’s a lovely thought. I shall look forward to it.’

‘But not now. Now everything is changed.’

He was like a child talking. Working it out, plaintive that his plans had been spoiled. She looked at him, frightened. Bill was strong, reliable, always there to lean on. This shaking, shocked man was not the Bill she knew.

‘We’ll do it tomorrow,’ she said, keeping her voice bright. ‘Perhaps for lunch. I’d like that.’

‘Yes. For lunch.’ His voice was dull. He pressed his hand to his head again. ‘I feel sleepy, Kate.’

‘Why don’t you lie on the sofa? I’ll stay with you and keep you company.’ She rose and took his hand.

He followed her through into the living room and lay down obediently, his long legs hanging over the arm. She pulled a rug over him, and arranged a cushion gently under his head. He looked very uncomfortable on the small piece of furniture, but he curled up on his side and closed his eyes without a word. She sat down opposite him, watching him uneasily. Almost certainly he had concussion; perhaps a cracked skull. And there was nothing she could do to help until they managed to get him to a hospital.

She leaned back in the chair, gazing into the fire. The house was silent. She strained her ears, trying to hear through the walls, listening for sounds from outside. There was nothing save a gentle scraping of the rose tree at the window which faced the sea. Where was Greg? Why was he taking so long?