At the end of a chapter, I decided to nip downstairs and make myself a cup of tea and grab a piece of the delicious flapjack Riley had made in her cookery class yesterday. Riley was fourteen now, and developing into a doe-eyed stunner. Skye was a twelve-year-old tomboy with enough cheeky character to get away with whatever she wanted.
Halfway down the stairs, the doorbell chimed. Dammit. It was too late to pretend I wasn’t in. They would’ve seen me through the window already. The girls weren’t due back from school for another two hours and I cherished my quiet time. Who would be interrupting me at this time of day? Johnny was out working. I sighed and went to open the door, yearning for my book and the piece of flapjack that would now have to wait.
It was Tom.
‘Quick, Ellie, let me in. I’m on duty and I’m not supposed to be here.’
‘What’s up, Tom?’ I asked, startled and intrigued.
‘I think you better sit down.’
‘The girls?’ I had a moment of pure terror.
‘Nothing like that, everyone’s safe.’
‘Tell me then. What is it?’
He guided me into the kitchen and we sat on the L-shaped sofa.
‘I’ve got some incredible news.’
‘Ye – es?’ I waited for him to continue. ‘For God’s sake, Tom, you’re doing my head in. Spit it out.’
‘Connor’s alive and he’s in Bournemouth right now.’
I thought I’d misheard him.
‘Did you hear me, Ellie? Connor’s not dead.’
My stomach went into freefall. Why now? So many thoughts rushed through my brain. But I had to know one thing before I heard all the details.
‘Does Johnny know?’
‘No. Only Mum, Dad, Ollie and David. And you and me, of course.’
‘Do me a favour and don’t tell anyone else.’
‘Of course, sis. Are you okay? This must be a massive shock.’
‘Tell me everything.’
Chapter Forty
Luc and I sit at a long trestle table in the tea tent, opposite Aubrey and Marcia. A three-tiered silver tray is stacked high with freshly baked cakes and warm, crumbly scones. Ramekins contain mountains of clotted cream and homemade strawberry jam. It all looks incredible, but Luc and I are snoozy and stuffed from our long lunch of local beer and barbeque.
‘Dig in, m’dears,’ says Marcia, dolloping a huge lump of jam onto her cream-smothered scone.
‘Shall I be mother?’ Aubrey’s holding of a large brown teapot, which he’s positioned over my cup. ‘Nettle tea. Not too bad actually, although it is an acquired taste.’
‘I’ll give it a go,’ I say. ‘Thank you.’
He pours out a cup for us all, launching into a eulogy on the high standard of competition entrants this year.
‘Della’s Longhorns were outstanding. They absolutely deserved first prize. Did you two manage to see any of our rare breeds? Spectacular! I’ll wager you’ve never seen finer.’
‘It’s a great fair,’ I agree.
‘It is, isn’t it. Now Marcia tells me you need beds for the night.’
‘Is there some kind of lodgings or a guest house?’ asks Luc. ‘We can pay for our board.’
‘I’m sure you can, but we wouldn’t hear of it. Marcia’s already said you’re to stay at the lodge house. We have plenty of space. That’s settled. Bit embarrassing, can’t remember your names. Did I hear one of you say you were a Donovan? Eddie Donovan’s relation perchance?’
‘I’m Lucas, his son.’
‘What did I tell you, Marcia!’ The Mayor pounds the table with his fist and our tea jumps out of our cups.
‘Aubrey! For goodness sake, watch what you’re doing. You’re making a terrible mess.’ Marcia takes the linen napkin from her lap and starts blotting up the spilt tea.
‘Yes, sorry, clumsy.’ The Mayor looks chastened. ‘But what a small world. He’s due here in October in an advisory capacity. We have trading links with Melksham. Mayor Turnbull recommended the fellow. Wonderful, wonderful.’
‘And you, m’dear?’ asks Marcia. ‘Your name? You must excuse our awful memories. So much going on today…’
‘Riley Culpepper.’
‘Oh.’ She looks mortified. ‘Oh, my dear,’ she says. ‘Terrible, terrible business. I’m so sorry.’
‘Eh? What’s that?’ the Mayor says.
‘You know, Aubrey. Don’t be dense.’ She turns to him and unsubtly drops her voice. ‘That terrible business about the girl from the Talbot Woods perimeter. We had a picture delivered from the Guards. Of the killer.’
My cheeks flush and for one terrible moment I think I’m going to cry. I’ve been coming to terms with everything, slowly. But sometimes, when people take me unawares, it just sends me over the edge. I swallow hard, willing the tears to stay unshed, but I can’t prevent one from running down my cheek. I’m horrified and embarrassed.
‘Oh, my dear, your poor sister. I am so terribly sorry,’ says the Mayor.
‘Thank you,’ I say.
‘Would you like a hug?’ asks Marcia, looking very awkward, but obviously trying hard to be consoling. Her worried expression makes me smile and stems the unwelcome rush of emotion.
‘I’m fine,’ I say. I notice Luc has put his arm around me, and I wish it was just the two of us again.
‘So I don’t suppose anyone fitting Ron Chambers’ description has passed through here?’ I ask, pulling myself together.
‘Not that we’re aware of, I’m afraid,’ says the Mayor. ‘But if he was driving, he would have passed outside these walls. Those awful boys outside have only just set up their Toll this week, so he would have driven by unobstructed. Let me contact Luis, our Chief of Security. Do you know if this Chambers fellow was on foot or horseback?’
‘Actually, he stole my Mother’s AV, so I guess he would still have been in that,’ I reply.
‘A thief to boot. What a ghastly character,’ says Marcia.
Twenty minutes later, a small, compact man in uniform is standing to attention next to us in the tea tent.
‘Please do sit down, Luis,’ says Marcia. He sits at the end of the table and opens a red hardback log book.
We all lean in to look at this book where they record all vehicle and foot traffic that passes by their borders. Scanning down, Luis sees an entry that could well relate to Chambers. It states that a dark-coloured AV skirted the walls at 02.10 on the fifteenth of July. The vehicle could very possibly have been Ma’s stolen AV. Unfortunately, it was too dark to see who was driving, but there weren’t any passengers noted.
‘Do your parents know where you are?’ says Marcia suddenly, looking from me to Luc with a piercing stare.
Our hesitation gives us away.
‘You silly children! They must be out of their minds with worry. If my two had done anything like that… Come with me, we’re going to contact them right this minute.’
Luc and I look at each other in a panic. I’m not mentally prepared to speak to my father just yet and guess from Luc’s expression, neither is he.
‘Could we contact them later?’ I ask. ‘Pa will be at work, and Ma isn’t very well.’
‘I hope you don’t expect me to believe your parents would rather be working or sleeping, than hearing their child is in fact safe and sound and not dead in a ditch!’ Marcia’s voice becomes shrill and people are beginning to stare.
‘Shall I…’ Luis makes an exiting motion with his hands.
‘I should if I were you,’ Aubrey replies. ‘Thank you, dear fellow. Now, Marcia, let’s all calm down. We’ll contact the parents after the fair. You two run along for a bit and we’ll meet by the bridge at six, if it’s alright with you.’