Because of this, Gabe and Eve had no opportunity to discuss the phenomenon between themselves, and the truth was, neither of them felt like it that night; they both lacked the energy.
They were all fast sleep within minutes of settling down and the only noise in Crickley Hall, apart from the distressed mewlings of Chester in the kitchen, was the creak of rough floorboards and timbers, and the faint but constant whispering of rushing water that crept up from the bowels of the house and through the open cellar door…
19: MONDAY
'You nervous, Slim?' Gabe changed up a gear and stole a glance at Loren, who was strapped into the Range Rover's passenger seat beside him.
There was no guile about Loren; she was still young enough to be open and honest and totally without front. She responded without hesitation: 'Yes, Dad.'
'Don't be. You'll soon make new friends.'
'I'm not from around here.'
'It'll make you more interesting.'
He slowed the car, indicated left, and swung out from the narrow lane with its high hedges on either side into a wider and busier road.
'I've spoken to the headteacher, Mr Horkins, a coupla times, once on the phone and once in person when I scouted out the school last time I was down here. Seems an okay guy, runs a tight ship. The kids impressed me when I visited, almost civilized, y'know?'
Gabe was taking Loren to Merrybridge Middle School on her first morning, but the school bus would bring her back in the afternoon. They had all overslept, even Cally, who normally could be relied on to be wide awake and singing loudly or playing with her dolls at the crack of dawn. But it had been a late night for her and a troubling one for them all. Gabe had lamely put the sleep-in down to 'good country air' and there had been no time to discuss the events—the mysterious running footsteps—of the previous night. A quick breakfast of coffee and toast for Gabe, cereals for the girls, and then he and Loren set out for Merrybridge. Chester, who once again had been tied outside to the tree, barked after them as they hurried across the bridge.
Gabe slowed down with the flow of traffic. It seemed even coastal Devon had its rush hour.
'It's horrible not knowing anybody,' whinged Loren, gazing ahead through the windscreen, chewing at her lower lip.
'Hey, you'll find someone to hook up with. You're good at making friends.'
'I really don't want to go to a new school.'
'It's only for a short time. We talked about this.'
'Will Mummy get… will she get better?'
'I think being away from our old house might help her come to terms with the situation. New surroundings, new people.' He didn't add that the first anniversary of Cam's disappearance was almost upon them. 'It won't make her forget, but it might divert her attention for a while, maybe help her get a grip.'
'But she's been sad for such a long time.' Loren turned towards her father. 'Mummy still cries when she's alone. I can always tell, even when she pretends she's all right.'
'I know.'
'We're all sad about Cam. I still miss him a lot, but…' Her words trailed off.
'But eventually you have to get on with life.' Gabe finished for her. He took a quick look her way. She was pale and troubled and there were faint smudges under her eyes.
'Sometimes I feel guilty because I think of Cam less and less,' she said.
'Don't be. It's natural. You can't grieve for ever, especially not at your age. So long as you remember him from time to time, it's okay. No one expects more of you.'
'I still cry sometimes.'
'Sure, but not so much any more, right? And that's good, Loren, it's part of the healing. But we all have to carry on with our lives, it's the only thing to do.'
'Dad…'
Gabe felt her eyes on him again.
'Cam is dead, isn't he? He must be, mustn't he? He couldn't just disappear.'
It was the first time Loren had come straight out with it and he had been dreading such a moment. What to tell her? What did he himself believe? What did he really believe?
'I don't know,' he answered after a few moments. He couldn't lie to her; yet neither could he affirm what he knew they all thought. There was no other way to say it. 'Until they find his body we can only assume he's been taken away by someone.'
Loren was equally frank. 'If he was alive the police would have found him by now. No one could've hidden him all this time.'
This was the reality but, mostly for Eve's sake, Gabe would not admit it, even to himself.
'Could someone have stolen him because they didn't have a little boy of their own? Perhaps they were lonely. They took him from the park because he looked so nice. Cam was always smiley, even with strangers.'
He blessed Loren for her innocence. A kidnapping was what Eve wanted to believe even now. She'd been in denial from the first day Cam had vanished. Something deep within her refused to accept the worst and it was this faulty reasoning that kept her from complete breakdown. And, in truth, maybe the same unrealistic hope lay within himself—why else had he not wept for his own son?
They had reached the town and the main street was busy with people, among them, in groups of three or four, the blue uniforms of Merrybridge Middle School pupils. Loren watched them apprehensively, hoping they wouldn't treat her as an outsider, praying she wouldn't make a fool of herself on her first day.
Soon the uniforms—navy-blue trousers or skirts, electric-blue jumpers and blazers over white shirts worn with blue-and-grey-striped ties—began to multiply, then mass, so that it seemed the world's predominant colour was blue. Gabe hung a right into the wide side street and there it was, Merrybridge Middle School—or Merrymiddle as it was known—a concrete congestion of two-storey plain stone-and-glass buildings so beloved by misguided architects and cost-conscious town-planners in the Sixties. If the town itself still had a modicum of charm left, it was lost on the solid but drab interjoined buildings.
Gabe pulled up behind another 4x4 whose passengers were being disgorged and set the handbrake. Some of the children passing by gawped in the passenger window at Loren as if already sniffing a stranger in their midst, and she studiously ignored them. She reached over to the back seat for her school bag. Perhaps in a few days, when she herself wore the Merrybridge uniform, she would not be so visible.
'All right,' Gabe smiled reassuringly: he understood her nervousness. 'You want me to come in with you?'
'No, Dad!' She looked alarmed at the very idea.
'Sure?'
She nodded her head vigorously.
'Okay. So just go inside and ask someone where you can find Mr Horkins. He'll see you right.'
They leaned towards each other and Loren gave her father a peck on the cheek. She grabbed her school bag from the back, then pushed the passenger door open. Gabe saw the apprehension on her face and his heart nearly melted.
'Bye, Daddy,' she said, before slamming the door after her.
'See you tonight.' He watched her go through the gate following two uniformed girls, and he pressed the switch to lower the passenger side window.
'Hey, Slim!' he called, stretching across the seat.
Loren turned and looked back at him.
'Don't talk to boys!' He gave her a broad smile.
She rolled her eyes heavenwards and the two girls in front looked over their shoulders and giggled.
Then Loren was gone and Gabe felt a heel.
20: THE SPINNING TOP
Eve snatched another look out of the kitchen window, checking on Chester who lay forlornly on the grass, roped to the tall oak tree from whose lowest branch the swing hung. His head was down, muzzle resting between his front paws, and he was looking forlornly towards the house.