by Lisa Stone
Every so often Jan paused to look behind her to check she was walking in a straight line, so she would know how to get back to the track. It was disorientating being surrounded by so many tall trees. There was no horizon or landmark from which she could take her bearings. But she was as sure as she could be that she was heading in the right direction to where she hoped the cottage lay. The air was still and chilly here.
A few minutes later she was rewarded as the boundary hedge at the bottom of the cottage garden appeared between the trees. She made her way up to it and then found the gap in the hedge with her repair work visible on the other side, the crisscrossing pieces of wood still blocking the hole. It appeared to be standing up well, she thought.
She looked around. This was the spot where whatever it was had been getting in, though there was nothing to be seen now but more leaves and twigs. Nothing to suggest anyone or anything had been here. How brave she was in daylight, she thought, but best not overdo it.
She turned away from the hedge, ready to retrace her steps. She’d accomplished what she’d intended to and her confidence had grown by coming into the deepest part of the forest. She’d also been able to check the boundary fence.
‘Come on, Tinder, time to go,’ she called. Her voice sounded strange and far off in the otherwise quiet forest.
He was a little way to her left. Having picked up the scent of something, he was sniffing around the base of a tree close to the hedge. ‘What is it?’
She went over. A ball of green twine just like the ones Camile kept in the shed and which Jan had used to tie the wood in place lay partly covered by leaves. Moving Tinder aside, Jan picked it up and examined it. She was sure it had come from Camile’s shed, but what was it doing here? Had Chris or Camile used it for repairing the fence in the past? No. Chris would have used something stronger and more robust – hammer and nails, not twine – she was sure. And Camile had been gone weeks. This ball of twine hadn’t been here that long. It was barely wet and showed no sign of weathering – days not weeks, she thought.
Tinder was looking at her expectantly, hoping to get another sniff of the ball, but Jan threw it in the direction of her back garden. If it made it in there, she would return it to the shed. She set off towards the track, Tinder at her heels. If she walked in a straight line, she should come out more or less where she’d come off the track. Then it was left towards Wood Lane. As she walked the only sound came from her boots crunching over the dry leaves and twigs and Tinder running beside her. In some places she could see the foot marks she and Tinder had made on their way in, so she knew she was on the right course.
Suddenly Tinder stopped and gave a low growl, his ears pricked up. He’d heard something. Pausing, Jan looked in the same direction, but there was nothing to be seen. ‘Come on, good boy, this way,’ she said, her voice slightly unsteady.
He gave another growl but came with her.
A few steps further on, she heard a noise coming from the same direction, as though someone else was here. Cold fear embraced her. It was still some way back to the track and even further to Wood Lane and the cottage. Her heart began to race. It had been stupid to come this far into the woods alone, just to prove a point. Who knew what lived here? She began to run, stumbling over the piles of rotten leaves and bracken while trying to avoid the branches overhead. Tinder ran beside her, as eager to be out of the woods as she was.
Thankfully the trees cleared and she found herself on the track again, but the movement in the wood continued. Someone or something was in there, moving parallel to them. Petrified, Jan quickened her pace and took out her phone, ready to call for help if necessary.
She stopped and stared in disbelief as a little further up Chris and a woman stepped from the woods onto the track. It must have been them she’d heard. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart as Tinder ran to Chris. Dressed similarly in boots and waxed jackets, they continued towards her.
‘Fancy seeing you here,’ Chris said stiffly, and bent to ruffle Tinder’s fur. ‘I didn’t think you liked the woods.’
‘I thought it was time to get over that,’ Jan said, equally awkward.
‘This is my friend Anne,’ Chris said, introducing his companion. ‘Anne, Camile’s lodger, Jan.’
‘Hello, pleased to meet you,’ Anne said, but her expression said something different.
Jan saw Chris looking at her. Guilt? Embarrassment? She wasn’t sure.
There was an awkward silence and then he said, ‘Oh well. We’ll let you get on with your walk. Are you heading back to the cottage now?’
‘Yes, why?’ Jan asked.
‘I just wondered. Bye, then.’
‘Bye,’ Jan replied.
She continued along the track towards Wood Lane, in the opposite direction to Chris and Anne. She didn’t look back. How embarrassing that was! And what were they doing in the woods near the back of the cottage? Chris had offered no explanation and Jan certainly wouldn’t phone or text to ask him. She felt a pang of jealousy but dismissed it. Clearly he preferred older women, for Anne must be fifty. Homely, mumsy described her, Jan thought, slightly overweight with a practical chin-length hairstyle and no make-up. Jan wondered if Anne knew Chris had taken her out the evening before. It would explain the look she’d given her.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Once safely inside the cottage, Jan poured herself a glass of water and then set about making something to eat. It was 2 p.m. and she was hungry after all the exercise. Tinder was exhausted. He flopped out on his rug by the hearth and was soon asleep. Jan took the frying pan from its hook, threw in a knob of butter and whisked some eggs for an omelette. As she worked, her thoughts returned to Chris and Anne. He was a strange one, for sure. When she’d first met him he’d seemed so upfront and uncomplicated – a what-you-saw-was-what-you-got type of bloke. Yet clearly there was another side to Chris completely, one she didn’t like. Secretive, moody, evasive. Just as well it had ended when it had.
Jan added salt and pepper to the frothy egg mixture and tipped it into the hot frying pan. The fat splattered. As the omelette set, she grated cheese for the filling. She was about to chop some tomatoes when the doorbell rang. Tinder woke and looked at her from his rug in the living room. Perhaps it was the postman. He came in his van to the cottage if there was any mail. Sometimes he rang the bell as he pushed the letters through the letterbox to let her know they had arrived. But it was a bit late for him. He usually came in the morning.
Jan removed the pan from the heat and went into the hall. There was no mail lying on the mat. She opened the front door. There was no one outside. No car or mail van either. Strange. She looked around. The lane was deserted as far as she could see in both directions. Then she saw it and her heart missed a beat. Positioned on the doorstep was the ball of twine Tinder had found in the wood and she’d thrown towards the back garden. She was sure it was the same one. It looked identical. It hadn’t been here when she’d arrived back. She stared at it in disbelief, then looked up and down the lane again. Kicking it off the step, Jan quickly closed the door.
How had it got there and why? Had Chris and Anne found it and brought it back? No. That seemed ridiculous. The chance of them finding it in the woods was tiny and why would they go to all the trouble of returning it? Assuming they knew it had come from Camile’s shed.
But the alternative – that someone she didn’t know had brought it back – was even more worrying. It would mean that they had been watching her in the woods – following her – had seen her pick up the twine throw it, and, knowing it had come from the shed, had brought it back. Was someone watching her and playing games to frighten her? If so, they were succeeding.
Calm down, she told herself, don’t do anything rash. Going into the living room, she picked up her phone and texted Chris.
Did you leave a ball of twine on the doorstep of the cottage?
He’d probably think she was even more neurotic than he already did. But she needed to eliminate him.
I’m fine, she replied testily.
But she wasn’t. Far from it.
Someone was out there, watching her. Perhaps it was time to pack and leave the cottage. She’d have to give Camile notice so she could make alternative arrangements for Tinder. Or should she call DC Matt Davis? But what would she say? That she’d found a ball of twine in the woods that had come from the shed and someone had left it on her doorstep? Surely that would be called wasting police time, and goodness knows what Matt would think of her!
What she needed was someone to talk to, Jan thought, someone who knew her well and could be relied upon to give her an honest opinion and sound advice. Ruby. She’d already offered to stay for Christmas, but Jan couldn’t wait that long. Christmas was still weeks away. She needed to speak to her now.
A couple of rings and then, ‘Hi, Jan. Lovely to hear from you.’
‘And you. Can you talk?’
‘For a bit. Why? What’s the matter? You sound uptight.’
‘I am,’ Jan immediately confessed. ‘Ruby, there’s stuff going on here at the cottage I don’t understand. Weird stuff I need to tell you about and get your opinion on.’
‘Are you in some kind of danger?’ Ruby asked, worried.
‘I honestly don’t know.’
‘That doesn’t sound like you, Jan. I’ve only got a few minutes now. How about I come over and visit you tomorrow? I’ve already booked a couple of days off work.’
‘Oh, would you? That would be fantastic.’
‘Sure. I’ll drive up first thing in the morning and then come back on Saturday.’
‘Lovely. Thank you so much.’
‘You’ll be OK until then?’
‘Yes.’
‘See you around midday tomorrow.’
‘Thank you.’
As they ended the call, Jan’s phone bleeped with a text message. It was from Camile. Everything OK at the cottage?
Too much of a coincidence, Jan thought. Doubtless Chris had said something to her.
Yes, thanks, she replied.
TWENTY-NINE
Despite telling Ruby she’d be OK until the following day, Jan hardly slept a wink that night. Every noise suggested someone was outside trying to break in or were already in the cottage and coming to get her. The wind didn’t help. She kept her phone in her hand, ready to call for help if necessary, and left the hall and landing lights on. Eventually she brought Tinder up to sleep on her bed.
Then at 2 a.m., when she was still wide awake, the lights suddenly went out. Panic gripped her until she realized that leaving all the lights on had drained the meter. She didn’t dare get out of bed now and go downstairs in the dark to feed the meter, so she pulled the bed covers up over her head and waited for morning.
Thank goodness Ruby was coming today, Jan thought as the sky outside finally lightened and she could get up. Ruby would know what to do for the best. She was Jan’s oldest and probably closest friend. She knew how to have a laugh, but could also be relied on to be level-headed and objective when necessary. Ruby wasn’t someone given to flights of fantasy. But then neither had Jan been, she reminded herself, before coming to live in Ivy Cottage.
Throwing on her dressing gown, she went downstairs, fed Tinder and set the coffee to brew. Tinder ate some of his breakfast and then began pawing at the back door to be let out for his morning run. Jan slid the bolts and turned the key. As she opened the door she saw it, and her legs went weak. She couldn’t believe it. The ball of twine she’d kicked off the front doorstep the afternoon before was now on the patio, directly in front of the back door. Positioned so she couldn’t miss it.
Someone had placed it there on purpose. There was no other explanation. Her legs felt like jelly. So the noises she’d heard in the night hadn’t all been her imagination. Her stomach churned. While she’d been in bed, whoever it was had taken the twine from the front garden and brought it round to the back and left it right where she would see it, letting her know they were still out there, watching her. She felt sick with fear. But why were they here? What did they want with her?
Keeping one hand on the door ready to close it quickly if necessary, Jan reached out and with trembling fingers was about to pick up the twine, then she stopped. No. She’d leave it where it was to show Ruby. It would be evidence that what she was saying was true.
Tinder, having done his business, returned up the garden, sniffed the twine and then came in. Jan closed and bolted the back door, her thoughts racing. Was she in danger? Ruby had asked yesterday, and Jan had replied she didn’t know. Now she did. Without doubt, she was being targeted. Should she call the police again? And say what? A ball of twine had found its way from the woods to her front doorstep and then the patio? It made her sound ridiculous, unbalanced. She’d wait to see what Ruby had to say. In the meantime, she needed to get a grip and think rationally. There were things she had to do.
Jan poured a mug of coffee and took it upstairs to drink while she washed and dressed. She needed to buy food for dinner so she could make Ruby something decent to eat. But she certainly wouldn’t be walking along Wood Lane to the village store, not with the chance of whoever was out there stalking her. Tinder would have to forgo his walk today. She would take her car and drive into Coleshaw. It would do her good to be in a town again with lots of people, and the supermarkets there would have a much better choice than the local store. She should leave as soon as she was ready to make sure she was back in plenty of time for when Ruby arrived.
Jan took her empty mug downstairs, shut Tinder in the living room and, collecting her jacket and bag, left the cottage. The air was chilly and she slipped on her coat as she went to the car. She was about to get in when she noticed muddy streaks over the car roof. As she looked more closely, she could see them on the bonnet too. Most of the leaves had been blown off in the wind last night, revealing these muddy track marks as if something had been on her car. But the marks were fresh, recent.
She looked more closely. They were too large for a cat or fox and not the right shape – muddy prints similar to those she’d seen by the gap in the hedge when she’d cut the grass. She traced their path. Whatever it was had run over the bonnet and up the windscreen, slipping as it went, then across the roof of the car and slipped down the back. Jan looked around her. There was nothing to be seen. The trees and foliage were still, but she had the feeling she was being watched just as she’d had in the garden. She quickly took a photo on her phone of the track marks – more evidence to show Ruby – then got into the car, pressed the central locking system and began the drive to Coleshaw.
THIRTY
Don’t go anywhere near this place! They are in it for their own selfish ends. Ms L’s online review of the Moller Clinic had read. Ian had dismissed it when he’d first read it, but now he’d visited the clinic and met the Mollers, he thought there might be something in it. But what?
It was Friday morning and Ian was sitting at his office desk trying to catch up with his work. It was proving very difficult. There was so much going on in his private life, it was virtually impossible to concentrate, but he needed to try. He’d taken a lot of time off since Emma’s miscarriage and while management were still being supportive and sympathetic, he knew it wouldn’t last forever. At some point they would expect him to get over it and start pulling his weight again.
Ian’s thoughts drifted to the argument he’d had with Emma that morning. It had started because he’d brought up the matter of the DNA tests again. Then he’d made it worse by saying he thought she should return to work, part-time at least. She was still signed off sick. He thought he’d phrased it well, but she’d burst into tears, accused him of being self-centred and caring more about his bloody research than he did about her. He’d left soon after to come to work and had texted an apology, but she hadn’t replied.
His thoughts returned to the review.
Don’t go anywhere near this place.
/> How he would have liked to have spoken to Ms L and asked her exactly what she’d meant. He’d found the review online again but couldn’t see any way of contacting her. Clearly she’d had issues with the clinic, but why? Was it their manner or something else?
‘There are rumours,’ the lad in the village shop had said. But that could be no more than malicious gossip.
Ian fiddled with his pen and stared at the report he was supposed to be writing. The DNA test kits he’d ordered should arrive tomorrow – Saturday. There was no postal service on Sunday, so he’d send them off first thing on Monday. He’d opted for the results to be emailed, which was the fastest method, so hopefully he’d have them early next week.
Of course, it could turn out that Carstan Moller had been right all along and he and Emma didn’t share the same genes. That’s what Emma believed, and that he’d become obsessed – a witch hunt to find someone to blame for them not being able to have a family. Which is more or less what Moller had said: Get on with your life and be grateful you are both healthy, intelligent and able to do well.
If the DNA tests showed he and Emma weren’t related, then he would accept it and agree to go to bereavement counselling as Emma wanted.
Don’t go anywhere near this place! They are in it for their own selfish ends.
But why? Ms L, why?
THIRTY-ONE
Jan paused to read Ruby’s text: Should be with you at 12.
Great. See you soon, she replied and then continued up and down the aisles in the supermarket, loading her basket.
It was nearly 11 a.m. and only an hour before Ruby arrived. Jan had been longer than she thought. She’d enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the busy supermarket and had taken her time choosing what to buy. She quickly gathered together the last of the items, then joined the queue at the checkout. It was long – Friday shoppers stocking up for the weekend.