by Roz Watkins
‘There’s no phone data for her since Sunday afternoon,’ Craig said. ‘But we’ve got details of the numbers she called before everything went dead, and there are shedloads of them over the last few weeks, but she made calls in batches. It looks like she might have been trying to speak to everyone who lived in the village in 1999. We’re working our way through them.’
‘No phone calls after she left Tony Nightingale’s house?’
‘Not with the phone we know about.’
‘Her phoning everyone ties in with what we’ve found from the house-to-house,’ Jai said. ‘She’s spoken to every bugger in the village, asking about Rebecca Smith. That’s why it’s taking us so long to get through them.’
‘Okay, fair enough,’ I said. ‘And bank data?’
‘She used contactless and phone payments pretty regularly until Saturday. No unusual activity, no withdrawals of large amounts. And then nothing. We’ll get alerted if she accesses the account.’
‘Right,’ I said. ‘Anything more on alibis?’
‘Mandy maintains that Gary was with her,’ Jai said. ‘And Anna’s girlfriend, Esther, says Anna was with her. But Esther takes sleeping tablets, so there’s no way she can vouch for Anna. Kirsty was on a password-protected internet forum, logging in from her home, so hers is reasonably solid. Daniel doesn’t have an alibi.’
‘What forensics do we have?’ I said.
‘Nothing of any use so far,’ Craig said. ‘They all wear overalls – Daniel’s are navy blue, because he reckons the animals prefer that, and the rest are white. We found fibres from both blue and white overalls in the pig area and by the smashed CCTV, but that’s not exactly surprising. They all work there.’
‘Footwear marks?’ I said.
‘We found marks matching Anna’s, Gary’s and Daniel’s boots in both locations.’
I sighed and turned to Jai. ‘What about the abattoir waste? Where the hell is it?’
‘Yes, about that.’ Jai grimaced. ‘Sounds ridiculous, but we still can’t locate it. We do know nothing dodgy’s turned up at any rendering plants.’
‘You haven’t been able to find the company that took it away?’ I said.
Jai shook his head. ‘Not yet. It was clearly an illegal one.’
‘Great,’ I said. ‘I don’t like that at all. Keep on it. Someone must know what happened to it. We have to find that waste before it’s turned into … whatever it’s turned into.’
‘Food for our staff canteen.’ Jai was alluding to an unfortunate incident involving a man named ‘Maggot Pete’ who’d sold condemned chicken to the police. It had been a good week for vegetarians when that one came out.
‘Evidence of anyone else going to the abattoir on Sunday night?’
‘No. Turns out Mrs Ackroyd’s the only one in the whole of Gritton who stays up past half nine.’
‘Curse these wholesome village folk,’ I said. ‘But thank goodness for Mrs Ackroyd’s crippling insomnia.’
‘You’re all heart,’ Craig said.
The door banged open and Fiona barged in. ‘Sorry I’m late. We’ve had some info from the lab. There were traces of human blood and human hairs in the pig trough at the abattoir, and on Violet’s watch.’
Craig let out a low whistling noise.
I felt my insides sink as the hope that Violet was alive settled lower, deeper inside. ‘Are you saying the pigs attacked her?’
Fiona said, ‘The hair was shaved off, not pulled out.’
‘Someone shaved her hair off? Are we sure it’s her blood and hair?’
‘Should have confirmation soon.’
Jai grimaced. ‘The pigs didn’t finish their breakfast, did they?’
‘We need to know if it’s Violet’s blood in the trough,’ I said. ‘Get that sorted urgently, even if someone has to drive down to the fast-track lab in Oxford.’
‘No problem,’ Fiona said.
Jai was shaking his head and blinking. ‘They shaved her hair off,’ he said.
‘There’s another thing,’ Fiona said. ‘A comment’s appeared on the Animal Vigilantes Facebook page. It says, If you eat pigs, why shouldn’t they eat you?’
15
Bex – August 1999
‘You’ve never seen the drowned village, have you, Bex?’ Kirsty’s voice sang out and bounced down the rocky hillside towards the reservoir. The sky was a dazzling blue, the air thick and warm in the valley.
‘It’s normally underwater,’ Daniel said. ‘It’s rare to see any of it.’
Ahead of them were Gary and Anna, whose parents owned the abattoir in Gritton. Bex had been in the village a fortnight and had seen Anna most days. At least she was ticking one thing off her list, because Anna was starting to feel like a friend. It wasn’t so easy with her dad or Kirsty. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shift the invisible barrier between them. She still felt like an interloper.
They were nearing the path which led onto the flats that were submerged when the reservoir was full. Gary turned and shouted, ‘Hurry up!’ Bex had to admit he was easy on the eye, but she wasn’t sure she’d trust him.
‘I’ve got a blister,’ Bex said. ‘Stupid sandals. You go on ahead. I’ll catch up.’
‘I’ll walk with you.’ Daniel gave a soft smile. ‘There’s no hurry.’
Kirsty laughed. ‘Okay, I’ll leave you two to get to know each other better.’ And she scampered off down the path ahead of them.
Bex felt awkward suddenly, as if something was going on that she didn’t understand. Daniel asked the questions others didn’t. He looked at you like he could see through your skin to the bones of you. Bex wasn’t used to being looked at like that, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or it scared her.
‘Dad didn’t want us to come down here,’ she said, for want of anything better. ‘I don’t know why.’
‘Does he remember the village being drowned?’ Daniel said.
‘No, he wasn’t even born. But I suppose his parents must have talked about it. About losing their home to the waters. Such a weird thing to happen.’
They were nearing the edge of the reservoir, or at least where the edge usually was. ‘Here are the gateposts for the road to nowhere,’ Daniel said.
Two stone posts stood in the trees, recalling a time when a grand driveway must have led down into the valley. ‘How sad.’ Bex walked forward and stood between the gateposts. Closed her eyes.
‘Do you remember your mum at all?’ Daniel said, reminding her why she found him both exhilarating and scary.
She took a breath, not sure whether she wanted to talk, then decided she did, and shook her head. ‘I was only three when she left. Sometimes I think I get a glimmer of a memory, but then it dissolves to nothing.’
‘Kirsty said you liked painting and your mum used to do that with you.’
Bex’s heart pulsed faster. What else had Kirsty told him? She looked at Daniel but couldn’t read anything in his wide, clear eyes. ‘I can’t remember,’ she said.
They took the path through a sprinkling of trees towards the beige expanse ahead. ‘Wow, is that it?’ Bex said. It looked like buildings that had been bombed. Piles of rubble where walls once were, surprising stone things rising from the mud, layers of silt over old floors.
‘Yes. The church spire used to stick up above the water, but they knocked it down.’
‘What a shame.’
The destroyed village was laid out in front of them. Bex couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to watch the waters rising. Engulfing your home. A buzzard swooped and cried overhead, its voice so plaintive Bex could imagine it singing for everything that had been lost.
‘I remember your mum,’ Daniel said.
That broke Bex from her imaginings. She turned to look at him. ‘What did you say?’
‘I was only six, but I remember. I found her exotic. She was called Nina, wasn’t she? A foreign name. And I remember a time I went into the shop with Gary to buy sweets. Gary pushed in front of your mum and she sma
cked him.’
Bex took a step away from Daniel. ‘My mum smacked Gary?’
‘Yes, and shouted at him in Russian or whatever it was she spoke. Gary went nuts. It all kicked off.’
‘God.’
‘He had it coming, Bex. But the village kind of … turned against her after that.’
What a strange story. ‘Why are you telling me this, Daniel?’
He looked straight at her, in that way he had. ‘I wouldn’t want you to think she left because of you.’
Bex felt a thickening in her lungs, making it hard to breathe. He must know. Her voice felt shaky coming out of her throat. ‘Why would I think she left because of me? What has Kirsty told you?’
‘Nothing. It’s just … that’s what kids think, isn’t it? If their parents leave. I never even knew my dad, but it didn’t stop me blaming myself, thinking he left Mum because she got pregnant. It was stupid.’
‘I’m sorry. My mum went back to the Ukraine and left me and Kirsty here, so she can’t have cared much about us.’
‘I … I’m just saying it can’t have been that easy for her. They’re quite anti-outsider here at the best of times – and outsider includes someone from Derby or Sheffield. I’m not sure they got the idea of someone from the Ukraine, even before the thing with Gary.’
Maybe he didn’t know. Either way, it was making her feel worse.
They walked over the silted flats until they reached the remains of what must have been a large house or maybe a terraced row of cottages. Bex climbed onto a stone block and looked around her. As she peered more closely at the remains, she could see it must have been a manor house. Some of the stonework looked precisely hewn. Ornamental. Expensive.
There was a sound behind her, and Bex turned to see Kirsty jump over a channel and step onto an old lintel – the kind of thing that sat above a fireplace. Her clothes looked wrong in the heat. Short black skirt, big boots, and stripy tights. Gary was there too, perched on a pile of bricks.
‘This was our ancestral home,’ Kirsty said. ‘Not much left of it, is there?’
Bex looked at the chunks of stone and brick at her feet. ‘It’s kind of creepy. Why didn’t Dad want us to come here?’
‘Maybe he’s scared of the dreaded Pale Child.’ Gary jumped from a rock and landed in mud, sending splashes out sideways.
‘Oh, Gary!’ Kirsty brushed herself down. ‘Dipshit.’
‘This is where the original Pale Child lived,’ Gary said. ‘She was one of Kirsty and Bex’s ancestors. She lived in this big old house.’
‘Yes, we know all that,’ snapped Kirsty.
But Bex felt a shock go through her. She’d heard rumours about the Pale Child. If she sees your face, you die. But Bex hadn’t known she’d lived in their old house. Been a member of her family. She was both fascinated and repelled by the knowledge.
‘She comes out in drought years like this one,’ Gary said. ‘Maybe we’ll see her today.’
Gary was talking as if it was a joke, but Bex could sense the unease within the group.
Daniel gave Gary a look that Bex couldn’t fathom. ‘Why don’t you shut up, Gary?’ he said.
‘Yes, give it a rest, Gary.’ Kirsty flashed her blue-eyed gaze at him.
‘This is so cool.’ Oblivious to the tension, Anna was childishly overawed by the drowned village, and Bex liked her for it. ‘The old church is over there. I wish they hadn’t blown up the tower.’ She ran off over the flats.
Bex wanted to run after Anna, but she couldn’t because of her stupid shoes. She’d worn sandals to match her sundress, but all the others had boots on. She stood on one leg to remove a piece of grit from under the ball of her foot.
Suddenly she was shoved from behind. She let out a yell and slipped from the rock she was on. Crashed onto her hip and then fell onto the rubble, her head snapping back into the mud below.
‘Shit, sorry, I lost my balance.’ Kirsty reached out to Bex.
Bex grabbed Kirsty’s hand and pulled herself out of the mud. Her face was plastered in it.
‘Well done, Kirsty,’ Gary said.
‘Shut up, Gary. It was you that made me lose my balance.’
‘It bloody wasn’t!’ Gary strode over and grabbed hold of both of Bex’s hands. He stood in front of her, and looked into her eyes. He had a very intense gaze. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, Bex?’
Bex wanted to look away, but somehow couldn’t.
‘Well, anyway,’ Kirsty said. ‘We need to get Bex cleaned up. She can’t walk all the way back like that.’ Bex caught her sister’s eye. Had Kirsty pushed her?
Anna came barrelling over. ‘Oh my God! What happened. Get off her, Gary!’ She pulled Gary off Bex, and put her arm around her. Bex felt like crying. Thank goodness for Anna. She hadn’t really wanted Gary to look at her in that way. She hardly knew him and wasn’t sure whether she liked him or not.
‘She’s not all right,’ Kirsty said. ‘She’s got mud all in her hair and on her face.’
‘No, honestly …’ Bex said.
‘We’ll have to nip to Daniel’s,’ Kirsty said. ‘It’s the closest house by far.’
Bex looked at Daniel’s face. The colour had drained from his cheeks. He said, ‘I don’t think …’
‘It’s not necessary,’ Bex said. ‘I can walk home.’
‘No you can’t. Look at you.’ Kirsty waved an arm as if they weren’t all looking at Bex anyway.
‘You do look quite bad,’ Anna said. ‘It would be good if you could get cleaned up. Are you hurt at all?’
Bex shook her head. ‘No, no, I’m okay.’
‘Dad will know I brought you down here,’ Kirsty said. ‘And this would just prove he was right to be so over-protective.’
Anna looked at Daniel. ‘I suppose your place is nearest.’
‘If he doesn’t want to, then I don’t think we should go there,’ Gary said, and Daniel flashed him a grateful smile.
‘It’s not that I don’t want to invite you,’ Daniel said. ‘It’s just … you know.’
Kirsty turned to Bex and stage-whispered, ‘It’s Daniel’s mum. He’s embarrassed by her.’
‘I’m not,’ Daniel said.
‘Look, we all know,’ Kirsty said. ‘It’s not like it’s a secret. And Bex is one of us now.’
Was Kirsty being nice now because she’d pushed Bex?
‘Kirsty’s right,’ Bex said. ‘I can’t go home like this.’
Daniel’s shoulders dropped. ‘Okay. You’d best come to mine.’
As he led them away over the remains of the old house, Bex couldn’t help feeling guilty. It was clear Daniel didn’t want them at his house.
They trudged out of the reservoir and set off in the direction of Gritton village. Daniel was silent as they walked, and the others picked up on his mood – except Kirsty, who kept up a stream of chatter about having a barbecue in the woods.
Bex was walking slowly because of her blister, and this time Kirsty stayed back with her. Of course she hadn’t pushed Bex. It was Bex being paranoid again. She had to give Kirsty a chance and try to talk properly to her, otherwise it would have been pointless coming to Gritton and making herself stay for a month. She wanted a proper sister. One she could confide in. Maybe she needed to talk about more personal things, to try and reduce the distance between them. To start feeling like she belonged in the family.
‘Did you know our mum hit Gary?’ Bex said. ‘Daniel told me.’ And she immediately knew it had been the wrong thing to say. This wasn’t the way to get close to Kirsty, who was already stiffening, her stride becoming less fluid.
‘You shouldn’t believe everything Daniel says.’ Kirsty’s tone was measured.
‘I don’t,’ Bex said, backtracking. ‘Does he not tell the truth?’ It was easier to talk about Daniel than their mother.
Kirsty sighed. ‘It’s not that. He’s just a bit weird. His mum’s an alcoholic. But anyway, this time he was right. Mum did hit Gary, who no doubt deserved it. And now Gary hates all fore
igners, which is stupid.’
‘Daniel said everyone in the village turned on Mum and virtually drove her out. Is that right? Do you remember?’
‘I don’t remember much. But I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know why Dad ever thought someone from the Ukraine would fit in here.’
‘Sometimes I hate her.’ That had just popped out. Bex wasn’t sure she even meant it.
Kirsty turned and looked at her. Their eyes met. Such dazzling blue eyes Kirsty had.
‘For leaving us?’ Kirsty said, and her tone was gentle, reassuring Bex that she was on her side after all.
‘Yes. What kind of a woman leaves her own children?’ And Bex knew she’d gone too far. Because they both knew why she’d left. Bex was desperate for Kirsty to tell her it hadn’t been her fault, that her mum had left for other reasons.
‘Dad says she was depressed,’ Kirsty said. ‘She was thousands of miles from home. People here didn’t like her.’ Bex felt herself relaxing. But then Kirsty’s expression solidified. ‘And it was terrible what happened.’
And then Bex wanted to lie down in the dirt and cry, because it was so clear what Kirsty meant. She blamed you. We all blamed you. Instinctively she knew it was best not to argue. To accept that blame and see if they’d let her back into their lives anyway. ‘Sometimes I feel so worthless,’ she said. Even though it hadn’t really been her fault. Had it?
Kirsty gave her an appraising look, cocked her head and smiled her sunny smile. ‘Well, there are some that would disagree.’
‘What do you mean?’ Bex was exhausted from trying to fathom the subtext. Was this going to be a nice comment or a dig?
‘The boys. I never knew you’d turn out so pretty. Daniel and Gary have both got their eye on you.’
Bex blushed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the pretty one. With your lovely blonde hair.’ She sensed it was safer to let her older sister keep the upper hand.
They reached the top of the path where it turned into a lane and entered the lower part of Gritton. Kirsty was right that Daniel’s place was far closer than their dad’s house, which sat high above the valley, looking down on the village as if it was supervising.
They arrived at the end of a row of terraced houses. The others were waiting by a gate which opened into a fenced-off street.