‘We’ll have to go across country,’ says Cathbad. His knuckles are white on the wheel and he starts to hum again.
They head towards Downham Market. At first there seem to be many cars going in their direction and their presence is comforting. But, one by one, the other vehicles veer off and they are alone on the featureless road. The rain thunders against the roof and their headlights seem only to reflect the darkness back to them. It’s only eight o’clock but it feels like midnight and it seems as if this road will never end. Only about an hour more, thinks Ruth. Then she’ll be home, sitting on the sofa with Flint and drinking a glass of wine. She has already had a text from Tasha’s mum saying the two girls are happily watching a Disney film. Before bed she’ll text again just to say goodnight to Kate. Nearly home, nearly home.
*
Their headlights illuminate a sign for Cambridge.
‘We can call in on Frank,’ says Cathbad.
‘I’m thinking of applying for a job there,’ says Ruth.
Cathbad flicks her a quick glance. Keep your eyes on the road, thinks Ruth.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Well, I’m just thinking about it but I can’t stay at UNN all my life. I’ll never get promotion unless Phil leaves.’
‘Maybe he will leave.’
‘Not him. He likes being a big fish in a small pool.’
‘What about you?’ says Cathbad, leaning forward to see through the deluge. ‘Do you want a new pool?’
‘I don’t know,’ says Ruth, ‘but recently I’ve been thinking that I want something new. I’m just not sure what it is.’
Cathbad is about to answer when, with terrifying suddenness, a figure rises up in front of them. A massive creature, a mythical beast crowned with horns.
She distinctly hears Leif saying ‘Herne the Hunter’ before the car leaves the road and crashes headlong into a ditch.
Darkness.
Chapter 32
By the end of the day the searchers have found nothing. Judy finds it increasingly difficult to keep Star calm. Eventually Annie calls a doctor and Star is given a sedative. She lies on the sofa, eyes open, apparently in a daze. Annie and Dave sit in the kitchen talking in hushed tones. Luke is there too and Karen, who busies herself cooking a meal which Judy is sure no one will eat. At eight o’clock Judy leaves them to go back to the station for a briefing. Outside it’s pouring with rain and, although she hopes and prays that Ava is safely inside somewhere, her heart sinks. She’s increasingly worried about Cathbad, who hasn’t rung all day. In the car she checks her phone, hoping to hear that the travellers have safely returned. But, instead, there’s a missed call from Shona Maclean.
‘Shona? What’s up?’
‘Hi, Judy. Have you heard from Ruth?’
‘No. I think she’s out somewhere with Cathbad.’
‘I know. She sent me a message. “On an adventure with Cathbad. Scary.”’
‘Scary? She must mean his driving.’
‘I didn’t think anything of it but I’ve been trying to ring her and her phone seems to be switched off.’
Judy’s skin prickles. If there’s one thing she knows it’s that working mothers never, ever switch off their phones.
‘They’ve gone to Stanton Drew, haven’t they?’ says Shona.
‘Yes,’ says Judy. ‘How do you know?’
‘Leif asked me too. He said that Erik, his father, had left a message for me, something about dancing in a stone circle. He wanted me to go to Stanton Drew today with Ruth and Cathbad but I couldn’t go because I had lectures.’
‘Erik seemed to leave messages for a lot of people.’
‘That’s what I thought. There’s something fishy about it all.’
‘Cathbad’s phone is switched off too.’
There’s a second’s pause and then Shona says, ‘I know it sounds silly but I looked at Ruth’s Fitbit. I can see her stats because we’re friends. And she’s hardly done any steps today and nothing since four o’clock.’
Judy looks at the time on her dashboard. It says 20.05.
‘They’re probably in the car,’ she says.
‘I know,’ says Shona. ‘I was just worried. The weather’s so awful too.’
Judy has never been able to shake a slight suspicion of Shona, dating back to the time when she first interviewed her about the letters, but now she feels an unprecedented rush of goodwill towards her. Whatever else she may be, Shona is clearly genuinely fond of Ruth.
‘I’ll let you know if I hear from them,’ she says. ‘I’ve got to get back to the station now.’
*
Nelson’s first question is, ‘Have you heard from Cathbad?’
‘No. Have you heard from Ruth?’
‘No. I left a message telling her to call me.’ Telling not asking, notes Judy. No wonder Ruth hasn’t replied.
‘The A47 is closed,’ says Clough, who always knows that sort of thing.
Judy relaxes slightly. Cathbad must be held up in traffic somewhere. Even so she wishes that Cathbad or Ruth would call. It’s still raining heavily and Clough says that there’s freezing fog on the Downham Market road.
‘Let’s get going,’ says Nelson. They sit around the table in the briefing room. Leah has been out for sandwiches but Judy doesn’t feel like eating. Clough has her share.
‘Ava has been missing for forty-eight hours now,’ says Nelson. ‘Things are getting very serious. We think the abductor took some of Star’s expressed milk but that must be running out now. Ava is only twenty-four days old. Our only real clue is a piece of brown paper caught on the hedge outside Star’s parents’ house. There’s no CCTV in the street and none of the neighbours saw anyone entering or leaving the house on Monday evening. The family don’t seem to have anything to offer although one of her uncles suggested that Star might be making it up.’
‘I’m sure she isn’t,’ says Judy. ‘And Carol Dunne, her ex-teacher, agrees. She said that Star isn’t the type to make up stories. Although, interestingly, she thought that Margaret may have been the type. And Annie too. Carol taught Annie and she described her as being damaged in some way. She suggested that telling stories was a way of making children feel safe, in situations of abuse, for example.’
‘Who might have been abusing Margaret?’ says Clough. ‘Her dad?’
‘Maybe. Or her stepdad,’ says Judy.
‘You’re not still going on about that, are you? Pete Benson wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘Appearances can be deceptive,’ says Nelson. ‘But it’s Star and Ava we have to focus on here. Star hasn’t shown any sign of compulsive lying up until now. I think we can discount that theory. How was she when you left her?’
‘In a pretty bad way,’ says Judy. ‘The doctor had to give her a sedative.’ She looks at the mobile in her lap. No messages.
‘What about Uncle Luke?’ says Nelson. ‘He’s the only one with opportunity.’
‘He’s with Star now,’ says Judy. ‘He’s a bit of an oddball but seems genuinely concerned. And, even if Luke did take Ava, it comes back to the same question. Where is she now?’
‘We searched the grandparents’ house,’ says Clough. ‘They were very cooperative.’
‘What about Pete’s allotment?’ says Judy.
‘Yes,’ says Clough with elaborate patience. ‘The allotment has been searched as have the homes of Bradley and Richard Benson.’
‘I checked all the door-to-door interviews,’ says Tanya. ‘Everyone says they’re a lovely family, respectable jobs and all that. No scandal, except Star getting pregnant and not being married but everyone does that now. And Star was a devoted mother, by all accounts.’
‘Is a devoted mother,’ says Judy.
Nelson gives her a rather anxious look. He must be worried that she’s about to crack up.
‘The next thing—’ he says. But they never hear what the next thing is. Judy’s phone rings and she pounces on it.
‘Judy,’ says Cathbad. ‘There’s been an accident. R
uth is hurt.’
*
Judy insists on driving.
‘You’re in no fit state,’ she says to Nelson. The fact that he gives way without any further argument tells her how worried he is. Cathbad and Ruth are in the King’s Lynn Hospital which is only ten minutes away from the station. The roads are clear but it’s still raining hard. Judy drives as fast as she dares. She’s a good driver, the best on the team. This doesn’t stop Nelson telling her, several times, to get a move on.
‘Bloody Cathbad,’ he says, pounding his knee with a fist. ‘He’s a danger on the roads. I’ll revoke his licence.’
‘It wasn’t his fault,’ says Judy, firing up immediately. ‘He said they hit a deer.’
‘What did he say about Ruth?’
Judy has told him this three times but she repeats, patiently, ‘She’s unconscious, he said, and the doctors are with her now. They don’t know how badly hurt she is.’
‘And Cathbad hasn’t got a scratch on him. He’s got the luck of the devil, that man.’
Both of them have completely forgotten about Leif Anderssen.
‘You love Ruth, don’t you?’ says Judy. She would never have dared to say this normally but, just for the moment, she feels that they are equal, driving in the dark through the rain, both worried about their loved ones.
‘Concentrate on the road,’ growls Nelson. Then, in a different voice, ‘Yes, I love her. Sometimes I think it’s killing me.’
‘I thought the same when I was married to Darren and in love with Cathbad,’ says Judy. ‘When I left Darren it was awful but the awfulness doesn’t last. Sometimes you just have to be with the person you love.’
Nelson says nothing and the rain continues to fall.
Chapter 33
Nelson is out of the car before Judy has parked. She watches him run towards the entrance to A&E, pushing porters out of the way. Then she drives round to the car park and goes through the labyrinthine system of getting a ticket and finding a space, surely designed to give a heart attack to any worried relative. When she finally makes her way back to reception, Cathbad is there. He has a bruise on his cheek but otherwise looks exactly like his dear, infuriating self.
He comes over and wraps his arms around her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says.
‘At least you’re safe,’ says Judy, muffled in his shirt. ‘Nelson says you’ve got the luck of the devil.’
‘No, it’s the angels who’re on my side,’ says Cathbad. ‘They’re looking after Ruth now.’
‘Have you heard how she is?’
‘No. The doctors are with her. Nelson went steaming in, of course. He said he was her next of kin.’
‘Well, I think he is, in a way.’
Cathbad looks at her quizzically but obviously decides to let this go.
‘They think Leif has a broken leg,’ he says.
‘Leif?’
‘Leif Anderssen. He was in the back seat.’
‘This is all his fault,’ says Judy, breaking away. ‘Why did he have to drag you all the way to Somerset? Shona rang up. She said he asked her too.’
‘He wanted us to meet his mother and her miracle baby,’ says Cathbad.
‘What?’
‘It’s a long story. I’ve rung your mum and dad, by the way. They’re staying the night at the house.’
‘That’s good,’ says Judy, rather ashamed that she didn’t do this herself.
‘Maddie’s there too,’ says Cathbad, ‘but I thought you’d still want your parents to stay.’
He’s right but Judy doesn’t quite want to articulate why she doesn’t think that Maddie is an adequate babysitter.
‘I feel terrible about the deer,’ says Cathbad. ‘Such a beautiful, noble creature. I’d like to make some reparation.’
‘I’m sure there’s a charity you can donate to,’ says Judy.
‘Do you want to go home?’ Cathbad asks. ‘The car’s a wreck, I’m afraid. But we could go in yours.’
‘I’d like to find out about Ruth first,’ says Judy.
‘So would I,’ says Cathbad. ‘I’ll get us some coffee. There’s a machine here somewhere.’
Judy sits on one of the nailed-down chairs in the reception area surrounded by the halt and the lame; the boy in rugby kit with his arm in a sling, the two young women chatting on their phones about a third woman who is apparently ‘having her stomach pumped’, the bearded man who seems to be dying of sadness, tears rolling down his cheeks. After a while Cathbad appears with two polystyrene cups. ‘I put sugar in,’ he says, ‘for the shock.’ Judy leans against Cathbad and sips the disgustingly sweet liquid. She feels ashamed of the wave of contentment that flows through her.
*
Ruth is floating. She’s in a black sea and the devil is playing the fiddle. She’s in the stone circle and the bride is dancing. She is digging through the mud and a hand is rising up to grasp hers. She sees Kate walking between two women. They seem familiar but she can’t see their faces. She tries to call out but it’s too difficult . . .
‘Ruth.’
She sees Nelson. His face is close to hers, his brown eyes both intent and tender, an expression that she’s only seen on a few, never-to-be-forgotten, occasions. She can see the small scar on his cheekbone, his dark eyelashes, the stubble on his chin.
‘Ruth.’
She opens her eyes. ‘Nelson. Where’s Kate?’
‘She’s fine. She’s safe. She’s having a sleepover with her friend.’
‘She was with two women. I didn’t recognise them.’
‘You were dreaming.’
Was she dreaming? But she’s not asleep. She can see Nelson but there’s a blue curtain behind him and she doesn’t recognise the room.
‘Where am I?’
‘You’re in hospital. Bloody Cathbad crashed the car.’
‘Herne the Hunter. We saw Herne with his antlers.’
‘You hit a deer apparently. The car went off the road. It’s a write-off.’
The room comes into sharper focus. It’s a cubicle really and Nelson is sitting by her bed. She tries to sit up but Nelson pushes her gently back down on her pillows.
‘You’ve got to stay quiet. That’s what the doctor said. You’ve got concussion but they don’t think there’s anything else wrong with you.’
‘I want to go home. I need to feed Flint.’
‘That cat’s as fat as a house. He won’t starve because he misses a meal.’
‘He’s not fat. He’s big-boned.’
‘He’ll be fine. As soon as you’re discharged, I’ll drive you home.’
‘My head hurts,’ says Ruth.
‘Just lie still,’ says Nelson.
Ruth closes her eyes.
*
For a while Nelson just watches Ruth sleep. He knows he should go and update Judy. He should go back to the station and continue the search for Ava. He should go home to his wife. But for the moment he watches Ruth. She has a bandage wound diagonally across her head which gives her an oddly rakish appearance. Her hair is in disarray and, for the first time, he sees threads of grey in the brown. She is frowning slightly as she sleeps. Probably working out the exact date for some obscure piece of prehistorical pottery. Nelson reaches out a hand to touch her hair. It’s so soft – that’s something he always remembers – unlike Michelle’s which is sometimes stiff with the spray she uses to keep it in perfect waves. Nelson wants to kiss Ruth but what would the nurses think? He can see a gang of them through the cubicle curtains, standing at the end of the ward, talking earnestly. As he watches, a figure passes the double doors, another nurse, large and purposeful in navy blue. Why does she look so familiar? But then it clicks. It’s Annie Simmonds, Star’s mother, who should be at home looking after her daughter.
Nelson gets up and goes to the ward entrance. Annie is just disappearing around a corner. Nelson follows, keeping a discreet distance between them, up two flights of stairs, along several identical corridors, characterless and institutional, punctuated by hand-wash
ing stations and fire extinguishers. Annie is walking quickly, not looking to left or right. Finally she reaches a locked door with ‘Neonatal Unit’ written on it. Annie punches in a password and is admitted. The door doesn’t quite shut behind her and Nelson catches it before the latch hits the lock.
Annie is moving in a kind of trance, unaware of the footsteps behind her. She is walking through a room full of Perspex cots, all of which are surrounded by monitors, wires and drips. All except one, furthest from the door. As Nelson watches, Annie approaches this cot and lifts up the baby.
‘I see you’ve found Ava,’ says Nelson.
Chapter 34
‘This isn’t Ava,’ says Annie.
‘Of course it is,’ says Nelson. ‘The perfect place to keep her, you being in charge of the neonatal unit and all. But I think her mum wants her back now, don’t you?’
‘This isn’t Ava,’ says Annie, but her face is suddenly completely blank. Nelson has seen that look many times before and it always means guilt.
‘Let me see,’ he says, keeping his voice quiet and reasonable. He walks between the Perspex cots. He thinks of Madame Rita. She’s with lots of other motherless children. These babies are not so much motherless as temporarily separated from their parents but he’s got to give the medium some credit all the same. Shelves at the end of the room contain baby supplies: sterilisers, blankets, changing mats. Brown paper bags full of nappies.
Annie is holding the baby tightly to her chest, wrapped in one of those blankets that seem to be mostly holes. As Nelson approaches she loosens her hold slightly and he can see a tiny face and a single curl. He has never met Ava but he’s seen photographs and that silver-blonde hair is unmistakable. He feels a rush of pure relief, so strong that his head spins. He had almost given up hope of finding Ava alive.
‘Annie,’ he says, still trying for the calm tone, channelling Judy at her most persuasive. ‘Annie. Give Ava to me. We need to get her back to Star. She’s in a terrible state and this baby needs her mother.’
‘I did it for Star,’ says Annie. She doesn’t hand over the baby but the fight seems to leave her. Her shoulders, so square and determined in their uniform, slump. ‘I did it to protect Ava from him.’
The Stone Circle: The Dr Ruth Galloway Mysteries 11 Page 24