Midnight is a Lonely Place

LXIII

‘Where is she?’ Roger burst into the room and stared round at the sleepy figures sprawled around the fireplace. ‘Where in God’s name is she?’

‘Who, Dad?’ Greg stretched with a groan. They had all fallen asleep in the end, Anne and Kate and Paddy too. In the hearth the fire had died to cold embers. He shivered violently.

‘Alison. Where is Alison?’

‘She’s not upstairs?’ Greg asked the obvious.

It was Paddy who stood up first, stretching. ‘I’ll go and look.’

He disappeared through the door into the hall. Roger threw himself down in Paddy’s vacated chair and bent forward, rubbing his face wearily in his hands. He seemed to have aged ten years in the last few hours.

Kate stared at the greyness of his skin, the transparency of his face and she bit her lip. ‘Shall I make us all some tea?’ she said, standing up. ‘And let’s get the fire going.’ She walked across to the window and pulled back the curtain. It was still dark. Thick snow had fallen and judging by the sky, there was more to come. She could hear the wind buffeting against the glass. In the distance the trees were thrashing their branches, and she watched as a cascade of dislodged snow fell to the ground.

She was filling the kettle when Paddy came back into the room. ‘She’s nowhere through there. Her boots and jacket have gone. I can’t believe she came past us in the night, but she must have, while we were all asleep. Sorry, Dad.’ He slumped on the sofa, crestfallen.

‘Sorry!’ Roger roared. ‘Sorry! Is that all you can say?’ Behind him Susie had appeared in the doorway. Her hair was tangled and her face was still crumpled with sleep. The large bruise on her forehead from the car crash had turned a deep blue.

‘Sorry! You know where she’s gone, don’t you! God only knows how long she’s been out there. Go outside, Paddy. See if you can see footprints.’

‘Outside?’ Patrick looked at him doubtfully. He nodded. Dragging himself to his feet again he disappeared and moments later they all felt the rush of cold air as he pulled open the front door.

‘There’s no sign.’ He called from the hall. ‘No tracks at all. Just birds and rabbits and a fox.’

They heard the door slam.

‘Not that it matters. We all know where she’s gone.’ Roger’s face was livid suddenly, the dry skin flushed with colour. ‘To that damn beach. I’m going to have that dune bulldozed. I’ll have it destroyed utterly!’

Was it Kate’s imagination or was there a sudden frisson in the air, a charge of fear – and triumph. With a shiver, she hunted for the tea caddy. ‘That’s what he wants,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘That’s what Marcus wants.’

‘And once he’s got what he wants, perhaps he’ll leave us alone!’ Roger rocked back in the chair, and threw his head back, closing his eyes.

‘He might, but Claudia won’t.’ Paddy came and sat down next to his father. ‘The only way to put an end to this, Dad, is to get the dune excavated properly. Then we’ll know the truth.’

‘And you think that will put a stop to all this horror?’ Diana had appeared in the staircase doorway. She was still wearing her crumpled smock; there were smears of blood on it, but whose, Kate could not remember. She turned to the kettle which was steaming gently, willing it to boil. ‘I can’t believe you are all sitting there, doing nothing, when Alison is outside in all this snow. For pity’s sake is no one going to do anything? I’m going to find her!’

‘No, Ma.’ Paddy staggered to his feet again. The boy was white with exhaustion himself. ‘You’ve got to stay to look after the others. I’ll go.’ He looked mutely at Kate.

‘I’ll come too.’ She found she had spoken automatically. ‘Of course I will.’ She glanced regretfully at the kettle.

‘No, Kate. Drink something first.’ Roger’s voice was suddenly very weak. ‘Both of you. And have something to eat. For all we know she has been out there for hours. Five minutes isn’t going to make any difference.’

‘I’ll go with you, too.’ Anne stepped forward. ‘Safety in numbers, and all that.’ She gave a weak grin.

It was nearly ten minutes later by the time they had all drunk mugs of steaming tea, eaten a wedge of bread and marmalade each and dragged on boots and coats and scarves. As they headed for the door, Paddy glanced at the gun.

‘Take it.’ Greg had hopped after them. His foot was stiff and throbbed agonizingly this morning. ‘We’ll be all right here.’

Paddy looked at his brother. Greg gave a watery grin, then he punched him gently on the shoulder. ‘Take care of yourself, Paddy; and take care of the girls.’ He turned to Kate and touched her hand. She smiled at him, but it was a thin, tired smile. She had no strength left for more. The air was bitingly cold. She wondered how she would summon the strength to go even ten feet, never mind the best part of a mile.

Greg watched them go. All three were exhausted, he knew that. His brother could hardly lift the heavy gun he had so bravely hefted onto his shoulder. He glanced beyond them towards the woods. Was there anyone there, watching them, or were they as deserted as they seemed? He shuddered. The wind was increasing, coming from behind the house, tearing in across the marsh from the sea.

He watched until they were out of sight, then turning, he closed the door. Shooting the bolts across seemed a terrible act of treachery with them outside, but there was nothing for it. He hobbled back into the living room and stared at his father, shocked. Roger was lying back against the cushions, struggling to catch his breath. His face was blue and he was sweating profusely. Diana was bending over him.

‘Ma – ’

‘It’s all right, Greg.’ Her face was as white as a sheet. ‘Your father has had a bit of a turn, but he’s OK now.’ She stroked his face gently. ‘Rest. love. She’ll be all right. They’ll find her.’

‘They will, Dad.’ Greg knelt by his father’s knees. The syringe, empty now of painkiller, was lying on the arm of the chair. ‘They’ll all be fine. It’s broad daylight now, and the weather is a bit better.’ It was a lie but he doubted if his father would know it.

Roger managed a slight grin. He patted Diana’s arm as she pulled a rug over him. ‘Better now, love,’ she whispered. She kissed the top of his head. He had relaxed visibly, lying back against the cushions and his colour was better. Taking Greg’s arm she pulled him towards the kitchen end of the room.

‘I’m fairly sure he’s had a slight heart attack,’ she whispered.

Greg started back towards his father but she caught his sleeve. ‘No. I’m sure he knows, but don’t say anything. Can you go upstairs and wake Joe? He’s got to try and go for a doctor.’

Greg nodded. With a glance at his father’s white face he dragged himself across to the door and pulled it open. The staircase was dark. Putting his hand on the rail he set his teeth grimly and somehow he hauled himself to the top, sweat pouring off his face as he dragged his injured foot up, step by step, after him. Joe was snoring loudly when Greg limped into the darkened bedroom and shook him awake but it took him only a few minutes to shake off the deep sleep and climb to his feet. ‘Right. Don’t worry. I’ll get there.’

He too was fortified with a marmalade sandwich and a mug of scalding tea before letting himself out into the cold.

‘I hate to see you going out on your own, Joe,’ Greg murmured as he stood with him on the doorstep. He was leaning heavily on his stick.

Joe smiled grimly. ‘Don’t you worry about me.’ He carried his gun, broken, beneath his left arm. ‘You take care of the others. Your Dad and Cissy and Sue. I don’t like leaving you on your own here – ’

‘We’re safe here, Joe.’ Greg did his best to sound confident. ‘Don’t worry about us. Just get us some help for Dad.’

Joe nodded. Pulling the collar of his coat up around his ears he stepped out into the dark.