The Klowns of Kent
Page 24
The conditions were irrelevant. Moisture from the fog might penetrate our clothes if we are out in it for long enough but that would not matter and could not be allowed to delay or deter us. The first place Roberta had advised we look was a warehouse just out of town. It was less than a mile away, but even at a fast pace, it would take us a good ten minutes to get there as the winding streets prevented anything like a direct route. It was an old canning factory, if Roberta's information was correct, from back when they used to land huge amounts of sardines here. It had long since been closed but looking through the windows it was clear that some of the machinery was still there. It was tucked into the cliffside and well hidden behind overgrown foliage and trees. It would have made a great place for secret conspiracy meetings – the co-conspirators could slip away in the dark and find their way there using the moonlight. No one from the village below would be able to see them.
We approached slowly and with caution in case this was where Mum had followed Tilda to. It might be they could even have a guard outside looking out for intruders. There was no one though and it became quickly clear that no one had been here for days or perhaps weeks.
We turned around and headed back towards the village.
I checked my watch: 1815hrs. My stomach gave a rumble that was audible enough for my Dad to hear. Neither one of us made any comment. It had been four hours since we left Mum this afternoon to check out spots along the coastline. We had found what we needed to. I had enough to hand the whole thing over to the Police now but that wouldn’t get my Mum back. I could not be sure at what time she had set off as my phone had recorded when I received the message not when it was sent but I had to assume that she had been missing for the best part of four hours now. It was not a welcome calculation.
My mental musings were interrupted by a light coming from ahead of us. We had just reached the edge of the village again. Stepping off the dirt path that led to the sardine factory and back onto the road where the two met there were now houses before us.
Blocking our path were two skeletal pirates brandishing cutlasses and somehow pulling off a bored expression with their grinning skulls.
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