Another five minutes passed with me marking the time with the car horn. Hadn’t Cora said she would call back by now? Should I call her? I turned the engine back on so I could use the wipers and lights without running down the battery. The last thing I wanted was to get stuck out here as well.
It was dark enough now that my headlights reflected back to me from the wet trunks of the nearest trees. I waited another three minutes, then phoned Cora.
It took her a worryingly long time to answer, and when she did, she sounded more breathless than before. ‘I’ve found a path of sorts,’ she told me. ‘I thought it was leading me towards you but it doubled back. So I’m going cross-country again now. I can still hear you though. It can’t be much further.’
‘Can you see my lights?’ I flashed the headlights again.
‘No … wait, do that again.’ I did. ‘I think … I think maybe I saw something. God, it’s so difficult to tell.’
She sounded thoroughly wet and miserable. ‘Keep going, you’re almost there,’ I urged her. I beeped the horn and flashed the lights like a demented person. Was it my imagination, or did I hear the echo of the horn through the phone?
‘I definitely saw the lights that time!’ Hope tightened Cora’s voice. ‘I’m coming right towards you. Don’t move, okay?’ She let out a breathless giggle.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I reassured her. ‘I just wish I’d brought a towel. You’re going to be soaked by the time you get here.’
‘I was soaked an hour ago. I tripped over a root and went sprawling. You’re not going to want me in your car.’
I giggled as well. Relief made me giddy. ‘I’m not going to make you walk home just because you’re a bit muddy, am I?’
‘I don’t know, people can be irrational about – oh my God, there’s the road! I can see the road!’
I leaned forward to peer through the rain-dappled windscreen. ‘Where are you? Can you see me?’
‘I can see the lights of your car. Oh my God. Here I am. I’m on the road. I’m right in front of you.’
‘Where?’ The stretch of road in front of my car remained empty. I squinted at the trees on either side. ‘I can’t see you!’
‘It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m at the car.’
I got out. Rain pelted the top of my head. ‘Cora? I can’t see you. Where are you?’
‘I’m right here!’ Through the phone I heard the clunk of a car door opening. Not my car door. ‘I—’
At that point, the line went dead.
Chapter 32
‘Cora? Cora?’
Fear froze me stupidly to the spot. I clutched the phone to my ear as if the call might spontaneously reconnect. All around me, the trees whispered and chattered in the hissing rain.
I finally got my fingers working and dialled her number again. For three seconds there was nothing, then the recorded phone informed me, sorry, the mobile phone is switched off at present.
Where was she?
She’d gone to a car. Obviously not my car, so there must’ve been another on the road near here. I tried to listen. All I could hear was the rain, the putter of my idling car engine, the sweep of the wipers, the wind in the trees. I ducked down and turned off the engine. Still I couldn’t hear anything. I held my breath.
Cora must’ve come out of the woods along either this road or the next one along, which ran down towards Ballaugh. If she’d found a car with its engine running and its lights on, it couldn’t be far away. Unless it’d arrived after me and was on the road somewhere behind …
I got in my car. I would drive to the end of this road then loop around. If I didn’t find Cora, I would check the Ballaugh road. If I still couldn’t see her or the car …
Don’t think about it. She’s fine. She’s no longer lost out in the woods. So, she’s fine.
There was a weird squirmy sensation in my stomach that made me scared I was wrong.
In the dark and the rain, on that horrendous lumpy road, with the headlights bouncing off the grey-green tree trunks, I could barely get out of first gear. I was terrified of ripping the bottom out of my car. At each turn I expected to see red taillights in front of me or headlights coming towards me. Or maybe I would see Cora, sheltering at the side of the road, waving me down.
There was no one out on the road except me.
I got to the end of the road and turned right. I circled round and came back down the narrow road that went past the car park. Still nothing. I pulled in at the car park and tried Cora’s phone again. It was still switched off.
At the end of the road, this time I turned left, and headed around the opposite edge of the curraghs. Still no one.
When I paused at the next give way sign I closed my eyes. Alright, think. If a car had stopped for Cora, she would’ve asked the driver to drop her at my house. When she got inside, she might’ve immediately gone to charge her phone, but even so it would’ve taken a few minutes until she could call me back …
The smartest thing I could do, for her and me both, was to go home. Cora was probably already there waiting for me.
I took the main road home. It was longer in distance but definitely quicker than wiggling along the rutted back roads in the dark.
When I reached my house, it was in darkness. I ran inside.
‘Hello? Cora, are you here?’
I knew as soon as I stepped through the door that she wasn’t. The house felt empty. No, it felt normal, which was the same thing.
Cora, where the hell are you?
Her phone was still switched off. In desperation, I tried phoning Dallin, because I didn’t know what else to do.
He answered on the eighth ring. ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘What’s up?’ Behind him, I heard voices and laughter, the background life of the pub. It occurred to me I’d driven pretty close to Ballaugh and could’ve picked him up.
‘I can’t find Cora,’ I blurted.
‘Oh for—’ There was a rustle of static, then the background noise dropped away, as Dallin stepped outside. ‘She said she’d be back around seven. It’s only eight now. Give the woman some space.’
‘No, that’s not it. I called her, and she said she was lost, but then she got back to the road. A car stopped for her. But now her phone’s turned off and I don’t know where she is.’
Dallin was silent for a moment. ‘And you reckon that’s reason to panic?’
‘She got into someone’s car, Dallin. That was—’ I checked the clock on the kitchen wall. ‘Fifteen minutes ago. Nowhere around here is fifteen minutes’ drive from my house.’
He sighed. ‘I’m still not convinced that’s—’
‘I don’t know where she is. She’s missing.’
‘Okay, look.’ I could almost picture him running an exasperated hand through his short hair. ‘I’ll come home, okay? You wait there in case she comes back. I’ll be there soon.’
I wanted to correct him for using the word ‘home’ to describe my house. Was that even important right now? ‘Alright,’ I agreed. ‘I don’t want to sound like I’m overreacting. I’m just …’
‘You’re worried, I know, I get it. Keep phoning her, okay? She’s bound to turn her phone back on eventually.’
It wasn’t much more of a plan than I’d had. After I hung up, I sat on the third step of the stairs and called Cora, over and over again. I kept one eye on the clock. Ten minutes passed, then twenty. I tried to come up with other reasons why she might not have found her way home from half a mile away.
Should I call the police? I had no idea what the appropriate response was right now. What would I tell the police if I called them? Would they tell me I was justified, or advise me to wait? What was I actually afraid of?
I’m afraid someone knows what happened to Simone. And they don’t want anyone to find out about it.
I went out onto the driveway. From there, if I stood on my toes, I could see part of Eloise’s house. The lights were on in her front room and it looked like her car was parked at the side of her house,
rather than on the road in front where she usually left it.
Rain pelted my face. The wind lifted my hair. I hurried around to the side of the house and tried to see Nicole’s house. I could see a glow of light reflected off the road which suggested their lights were on as well.
I ran back inside to grab my coat and my keys. As I was searching for a hat, I heard a car pull up outside.
When I came out, Dallin was getting out of a taxi. ‘Hey,’ he called. ‘I got really lucky. This guy was just clocking off for the night when I waved him down. Overwise I would’ve had to walk all the way back.’
‘Cora still isn’t here,’ I told him.
Surprise smoothed out his expression. ‘She’s not?’
‘No! I told you she wasn’t. And you said you’d be five minutes. That was half an hour ago.’
‘I had to get a lift.’ Dallin gestured with a sweeping arm at the taxi, which was pulling away. I realised he was more than a little drunk. ‘Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get a taxi in Ballaugh on a Sunday? You’re lucky I got home at all.’
‘I think we should call the police.’
‘About—? Because Cora?’
‘Because Cora has suffered two separate acts of vandalism in one weekend, and because she hasn’t answered her phone in almost an hour, and because the last I heard, she was getting into a car with persons unknown and she hasn’t been heard from since. So, yes, Dallin, I think we should call the police.’
He opened his mouth a couple of times. In the end, all he said was, ‘Okay.’
I got him inside the house and put the landline phone in his hands. ‘Here,’ I said. ‘You call them.’
‘Why me?’
‘Because I’m going to look for Cora. You call the police and tell them what’s happened.’
It maybe would’ve been better if I made the call myself. But I figured the best place for Dallin was here, in the house, where he could wait for Cora. If she ever found her way back.
I left Dallin dialling the number, shoved my hat on, and took the car to Eloise’s house.
As I’d thought, her car was parked at the side of her house. The lights were on in the front room. I parked up on the road.
When I banged on the door, Butterscotch immediately started barking. But no one came to the door.
‘I know you’re here, Eloise,’ I called through the letterbox. ‘Stop being ridiculous. It’s Rosalie. Let me in.’
I stood on the doorstep, breathing heavily from all the running. How difficult would it be to kick down someone’s door? Was that an overreaction? If I genuinely believed my friend was in danger, it’d be justified … wouldn’t it?
Before I had the chance to find out whether panic was enough to break down a sturdy uPVC door, the door unlocked with a clack. Eloise pulled it open a scant half-inch.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. She had the same slur in her voice as Dallin.
‘What do you think is wrong? Let me in.’
‘Why?’
‘Eloise.’ I struggled to keep my voice level. For over a year I’d kept my anger squashed, at the cost of feeling anything at all. I couldn’t let it spill out now. ‘Where’s Cora? Is she here?’
Eloise shook her head.
My anger swelled up. I drew back my foot and kicked out at the door. As it turned out, it didn’t take nearly as much effort as I’d expected to boot a door open.
Apparently it surprised Eloise as well. She jumped backwards as the door burst open.
For a second we both stood there in amazement. Did I do that? The door swung on its hinges. I stepped forward and caught it before it could swing closed.
‘Is she here?’ I asked.
Eloise shook her head. Her eyes were a little wild, her curly hair standing out in crazy frizzes around her head.
I came into the hall and closed the front door. It wouldn’t shut properly. It appeared I’d pushed it out of shape. The fact frightened some of my anger away.
‘Is she here?’ I asked, softer. ‘Have you seen her?’
It took two attempts for Eloise to find her voice. ‘I shouldn’t have done it.’
Oh no. ‘What? What did you do?’
‘I shouldn’t have cut her tyres like that. It was dis … disproportionate. I shouldn’t have done it.’
Eloise grabbed a handful of her hair in distress. I held out both hands to stop her. ‘Eloise—’
‘I know people would think it was petty,’ she said. ‘But it’s important. You understand that, don’t you? You can’t just let people trample around in the curraghs. They had no respect. I told you about the damage they were doing and they – they – it was like they didn’t even care. People are so entitled. They don’t care about anything except their own selves.’
I stepped past her. The living room was empty. On the sofa there was a large in-progress crochet project, and a half-empty bottle of wine.
At the end of the hallway was a kitchen. Also empty. I switched on all the lights as I went. No one was in the dining room either.
‘You shouldn’t leave lights on when you’re not in the room,’ Eloise said. ‘Do you have any idea how much energy that wastes?’
‘Is Cora here?’ I asked.
‘You know …’ Eloise lifted both hands in exasperation then let them fall. ‘If you’d just listened to me …’
I debated going upstairs, but honestly, I knew it’d be a waste of time. Cora wasn’t here.
‘Have you seen Cora today?’ I tried instead.
Eloise shook her head. Her frizzy hair fluffed back and forth like a mane. ‘I haven’t been home. I went to stay with a friend last night.’ She blinked. Belatedly, a flash of anger came into her eyes. ‘I was afraid, you understand? Your friend assaulted me.’
‘What? No she didn’t.’
‘She was coming right at me.’
‘You kicked her in the knee!’
‘She was going to assault me. It was self-defence. You saw it.’
I wanted to argue. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. But I didn’t have time. Cora was still missing.
I walked out of there with Eloise still attempting to apologise.
Chapter 33
‘Rosie?’ Dallin called as I came in through the front door.
‘Is she here?’ I called back, although I was sure she wasn’t.
‘No. Rosie, what’s this?’
I went into the kitchen. Dallin was sat at the table with my laptop open. I felt a flash of irritation.
‘Dallin, can’t you leave my stuff alone?’ I asked. ‘What’re you looking for now?’
‘This.’ He tapped the screen. ‘What is it?’
I glanced over his shoulder. ‘Is this important right now? What did the police say?’
‘What is this, Rosalie?’
The use of my actual name stopped me. ‘It’s the pages I was looking at earlier.’ I ran my eyes over the screen. ‘Cora asked me to look into, y’know, our neighbours. I didn’t get very far.’
‘This is Nicole? From down the road?’
‘That’s her. You remember her, don’t you?’
‘Vaguely. I probably know her by sight. But I never knew her middle name.’ He tapped the screen again. ‘Vanaella?’
‘That’s her. Nicole Vanaella Willson. Like a strange kind of ice cream. Why?’
‘Did Cora tell you about her Aunt Florrie who was carrying on with a married man and was so stupid about him she changed her surname to match his?’
‘I – yeah? What the hell does it matter?’
‘It’s the same name. Vanaella. Cora’s aunt has the same weird name as her surname.’
I frowned. ‘Are you sure?’
‘How many people do you reckon have that name? In the whole of the UK? Can’t be many, can there? So, what’re the chances of someone else with that exact same name living right here, right next to where Cora reckons her sister was last seen?’
My brain felt like it was struggling to catch up. I blinked
several times. ‘Cora said her sister was seeing that guy as well. The one who messed her aunt around so much. You think …?’
Dallin hopped up from his chair. Together we ran to the car.
I drove faster than I’d ever gone on those awful roads. Even so, Dallin probably could’ve reached Nicole’s house faster if he’d got out and run. I sped up as much as I dared, sending us bouncing and jolting over the potholes.
As we drove, Dallin called the police.
We slowed to a stop outside Nicole’s house. I abandoned the car and ran to the front door.
‘Nicole!’ I shouted as I banged on the door. ‘Cora! Are you there?’
The door wasn’t locked. It swung open as soon as I thought to try the door handle.
‘Cora?’ I called.
‘In here,’ someone called from the kitchen. But it wasn’t Cora.
When I came into the kitchen, I found Patrick hunched at the breakfast island, his head in his hands. He was still in the fleecy jacket he’d been wearing when I’d seen him in the field earlier. Next to him on the counter was his mobile phone and a half-eaten plate of curry.
To Dallin I said, ‘Check the rest of the house.’
He nodded and took off up the stairs.
I approached Patrick. ‘What’s going on?’ I asked.
Without looking up, Patrick made a loose gesture towards his phone. ‘If you’re looking for your friend,’ he said, ‘she’s not here.’
‘Then where the hell is she?’
Dallin came back down the stairs, breathless. ‘No sign of her.’ He stalked into the kitchen. ‘I know who you are.’
At last Patrick looked up. His eyes were reddened but he had an amused look on his face. ‘Of course you do,’ he said. ‘We’ve lived next door to each other for years. I watched you grow up.’
‘Except for the time you were living in England, when Cora and her family knew you as Paddy.’
Patrick’s expression was immovable. ‘That was her Florence’s daft nickname for me. No one’s ever called me Paddy.’
Little Girls Tell Tales Page 24