by Marian Phair
A dog yapped. Startled, Scott glanced out of the window, and saw Father Patrick and Sally hand in hand, advancing towards the rectory across the lawn. Mali was running around them in circles, through the late afternoon shadows, cast by the setting sun. He quickly closed the book, and replaced it on the shelf, and resumed his seat by the window, feining sleep, as the three entered the study. Scott opened his eyes when Mali bounded across the room and leapt into his lap, licking his face.
“We have disturbed a sleeping beauty, Sally. Well, not so much a beauty, but a sleeping, Scott, who seems to find my armchair particularly comfortable.
I wasn’t expecting you until later Scott,” Father Patrick greeted his friend.
“I thought I would come a bit earlier, Patrick. We have a party in two days and there’s still a lot to do. I know we can’t sort things out with Ruth around. Where is she by the way?” Scott, had really come early, in the hope of spending a few minutes alone with Ruth.
“She went over to see Mary Findley, to collect something. While she was on her way over, I telephoned Mary and asked if she would take Ruth off to the pictures, keep her away for a couple of hours, to give us a chance to organise things here.” Father Patrick replied. “I also picked up some paper napkins, and plates, along with plastic cutlery, from Martha Higgings this morning, left over from a function held by the Women’s Guild. So that saves us a worry, they’re in that cardboard box over there in the corner. Martha will bring the birthday cake with her on the night.
The priest went over to the bookcase. Stooping down he removed a large tome from the botton shelf, and carried it over to his desk.
“Would you be so kind as to go into the kitchen, Scott, and bring back the plate of sandwiches wrapped in tin-foil, on the work top? Bring a couple of glasses back with you, and a carton of juice for Sally. You’ll find a tray on top of the ‘fridge. When you come back, I’ll introduce you to a friend of mine who arrived this morning.”
Father Patrick sat back in his chair watching Sally and Mali. Sally sat crossed-legged on a rug, with the little dogs head in her lap, Mali’s eyes were closed, he lay half asleep as she stroked his head, and sleeked his coat. When Scott had left the room to fetch the egg and cress sandwiches made earlier by Ruth and Sally for their tea, he decided now was the time to speak to Sally about something that had been bothering him over the last two or three days.
“I noticed you’re not using your cane so much lately Sally. We all try to leave things in the same place so you know where things are, but someone might inadvertently leave a chair or some other obsticle in your way. I don’t want you tripping over things and hurting yourself. It would be wise to use your cane at all times.”
“Yes, Father, sorry, Father Patrick. I’ll remember to use my cane,” Sally said contritely.
The priest had also noticed that Sally had avoided the footstool he had moved when he set the box in the corner. She appeared to have stepped around it before he could warn her, and her foot hadn’t made contact with the stool. So how did she know it was there?
“Is there something you’re not telling me Sally?” he asked, as she continued to stroke the sleeping dog.
“Are you hiding something from me?”
“No, Father.”
“You know you’ll go to hell if you tell lies, don’t you Sally?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Are you sure there are no little secrets you’re hiding from me?”
“I have nothing to tell you, Father.” Sally kept her eyes downcast as she spoke.
Sally knew it was a sin to tell lies, but she wanted to keep this secret to herself for just one more day. It was to be her birthday gift to her mother. A gift that only she could give, and on a special day her mother would always remember. It had started gradually, just after she woke up in the hospital. She had been aware of everything going on around her, but her eyelids felt so heavy she just couldn’t open her eyes.
Then Father Patrick had placed his hands on her head, and warmth had spread through her body as they prayed at her bedside. The next morning, when she opened her eyes, instead of the darkness that had been her life for the past four years, there had been a haze. Through this haze she could see the shapes of things in her room, although she couldn’t quite make out what they were. Later, when the nurse came to change her dressing, she had been able to make out her form. By the time she left the hospital, she could see things more clearly, and as each day passed, her sight had improved. She had kept this knowledge to herself, continuing to use her cane, and keeping up the pretence of still being totally blind, hugging her secret to herself until the time came to reveal it. Now today, her head full of the surprise birthday party, she had almost given herself away. She hoped God wouldn’t be angry with her for telling a lie to Father Patrick. She didn’t want her soul to burn in hell; she decided to say a special prayer at bedtime, and hoped God would understand why she lied, and forgive her. She would ask him not to send her back into the world of darkness
Scott returned and placed the tray on the small, side table, near the window.
“Close the curtains while you’re there Scott and I’ll switch on the light, its dark enough now,” Father Patrick told him. Scott did as he was asked, then picked up the plate of sandwiches, and a carton of orange juice, he went to where Sally was seated on the floor, nursing Mali. Squatting down beside her, she smelt the familiar scent of the aftershave he used, as he placed a sandwich in her hands.
“You should really wash your hands first, honey, but what the heck, it won’t hurt for once.” He placed a carton of juice beside her, and guided her hand to show her where it was. She thanked him and he leant forward and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. Because of the close proximity, she could make out his features quite clearly. Scott didn’t look anything like the picture she had in her head of him. He had beautiful green and gold flecks in his hazel eye’s, that held a twinkle in them, and there were fine lines at their corners; she guessed he laughed a lot. His clean-shaven face was tanned and handsome, and as young as she was, she could see why her mother found him so attractive.
Scott took the tumblers and the plate of sandwiches over to Father Patrick desk.
“Let me introduce you to my friend, Mr Jim Beam. You should enjoy making his acquaintance, he travelled a long way to be here all the way from your part of the world,” Father Patrick said, as he opened the large book and produced the bottle of Kentucky Bourbon. He held up the bottle for Scott’s inspection.
“This isn’t Devil’s cut bourbon, this, as you can see, is the real thing. The recipe is still a secret, so I’m told, after more than two hundred years.”
“Jim Beam and I are old buddies, we got together way back,” Scott said smiling. “You’re a crafty ole devil, Father Patrick O’Connor, hiding your booze in a hollowed out book.” Scott held out the glasses while the priest did the pouring.
“Only this particular ‘friend’ gets hidden in this book, because he’s for special occasions. Now you know my secret.” The priest said with a chuckle, setting the bottle down on his desk
“So what’s the special occasion today, Patrick?” Scott asked his friend.
“Why, the arrival, of this bottle, of course. Cheers!” Father Patrick said raising his glass in salute.
“Here’s looking at you, Patrick. I hope the future holds something real good for all of us.” Scott raised the tumbler to his lips breathing in the aroma of the bourbon before taking a drink. “Man that’s real good, cruises down the pipes like a Cadillac.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Father Patrick said, sipping sedately from his glass.
“Right now, I’ll drink to anything, if it would help solve all these crimes,” Scott told him. “Now, about the party. Molly is taking care of the sausage rolls, nibbles and dips. Mary has taken over the sandwiches, and salads, you’ve got hold of plates and everything, and the cake is taken care of. All that’s left for us three to do is the decorations, the drinks, and to make sure we
have enough glasses for the guests.”
“You said I could help make a ‘Happy Birthday’ banner for mum,” Sally piped up.
“Sure thing, honey. You and I can work on it together, and leave Father Patrick to sort the drinks, he seems to be able to handle that situation pretty well.”
Scott drained his glass and held it out for a refill, a cheeky grin on his face.
“I don’t want you to get too well aquainted with our friend, Jim Beam, Scott.
We need to save something for the day, but one more glass each shouldn’t hurt,” Father Patrick said, as he poured half a tumbler each. Then re-capping the bottle he replaced it on the shelf in the bookcase. They polished off the rest of the egg and cress sandwiches. Then it was Mali’s turn to be fed and watered. A thought occurred to Father Patrick as he munched on the remnant of his sandwich.
“I’ve just had an idea,” he told them. “If you’re free in the morning Scott, why don’t you take Ruth out somewhere, maybe go for a walk in the woods. You could take some sort of a picnic lunch with you. I’ve already told Ruth she can take the day off, and she’s happy to let us take care of ourselves for a while. You could take Mali with you, that would get him out of the way. Maybe you could teach the dog a few of the signals you were talking about, if you’re not too taken up with things of a different nature. If you promise to drive carefully, I’ll lend you Myrtle for the day.
It would give us the chance to get the furniture organised, and most of the food could be set out ready for the party tonight. It would save a lot of hassle at the last minute, and we’d have plenty of helping hands.”
“Well I did tell Jake Fletcher I’d stop by and check out a missing person’s case file with him. That young constable, Tom Holmes, has been working on the case of a missing local girl, Lorraine Cooke. She went missing in May last year. He’s been tracking down her friends and other people she knew, gleaning all the information he can, to see if he can turn up something fresh for us to work with.”
“Yes, I remember the day Lorraine Cooke went missing,” the priest told him.
“You do, why’s that?” Scott asked, curious.
“She went missing on the sixteenth of May last year. As I recall, it happened to be a Wednesday. Yes, I remember that day well. Her unmarried cousin went into labour, early labour, she was here at the rectory at the time, along with her fiancé, making wedding plans. They wanted to be married before the baby was born, but the baby had other plans. I helped deliver the child myself, in this very room.”
“Wow!” Sally said, impressed. “See, Uncle Scott, I told you, Father Patrick can do anything.” The men smiled at each other at the use of the word ‘uncle.’
Scott wondered who had put that idea into Sally’s head. One look at his friends face, and he knew.
“I guess Jake wouldn’t mind too much when I tell him the reason, I’ll give him a call. Yeah, sure, the little dog can come along too, that’s if Sally has no objections.”
“No, Mali would only get in the way,” She told him, remembering to turn her head towards the sound of his voice. “Father Patrick said I can blow up the balloons, and help him with the decorations, and he can help me finish the birthday banner.”
“Well I guess that’s settled then. Tomorrow I’ll take your mom on a birthday picnic. I’ll better go and get that sorted, and make my call to Jake. See y’all tomorrow.”
Scott said his goodbye’s, and left to set their plan in motion.
CHAPTER 47
More than a little dubious at driving the temperamental Myrtle, Scott loaded up the car with the help of Ruth, who was only too delighted to spend time alone with him. It was their very first date. This seemed strange at first, given that they had intimate knowledge of each other, to actually be going on a first date. The fact that today was her birthday made it even more special for her.
Seating Ruth in the passenger seat of the old Fiesta, Scott held the rear door open and whistled to Mali, who with leg cocked, was busy peeing on a spotted laurel. Mali came scampering over, and jumped onto the backseat, and settled down on the car rug provided by Father Patrick, the picnic basket on the seat beside him.
“Good boy,” Scott told him, and stretching out a hand, ordered the little dog to ‘stay.’
Father Patrick and Sally stood on the doorstep and waved them goodbye, and with a cough and a splutter he started Myrtle up. The car gave a few judders at first, as Scott struggled with the unfamiliar gear box, but he soon got the hang of things. After doing a turn around the flower bed on the gravelled drive, they were on their way.
“Watch out!” Ruth shouted the warning as Scott exited the drive and turned onto the main road, into the path of an oncoming vehicle. The driver slammed on his brakes and pulled up a few feet from their bumper. He honked his horn and shook an angry fist at Scott, as he shouted, ‘‘Stupid bastard, look where you’re fucking going.”
Scott skidded around the other vehicle missing it by inches as he fought to keep control of the car, breathing a sigh of relief as the wheels straightened out of the skid.
“Are you okay, honey?” he asked Ruth, placing a hand on her leg.
“I’m fine, Scott, please keep both hands on the wheel and your eyes on the road,” she said as he turned his head to check that Mali was alright.
“Sorry, honey, I had forgotton y’all drive on the wrong side of the road over here.”
“We drive on the left hand side, if that’s what you mean. I would like to get there and back in one piece, if you don’t mind. I’m not ready for my wings and harp yet.” She smiled to let him know everything was fine between them.
They reached the woods without further mishap under Ruth’s guidance, and set off for a walk through the trees. Ruth carrying the car rug over an arm, while Scott carried the picnic basket and held onto the dog lead, as Mali strained at the lead eager to get off and explore the surroundings.
“It’s years since I have walked these woods,” Ruth told him. “I spent many happy hours here. If the pool is still here, it would be an ideal spot for a picnic.”
“There’s a pool here? That’s great. How big is it?”
“It’s not all that big, and not too deep either, but it’s in a beautiful spot, in a small glade, I doubt many people know about it. Jack and I stumbled across it once by accident. It’s a natural pool, off the beaten track with a big moss covered boulder that we can sit on. We called it our secret hide away, and on warm summer days we would go swimming in its cool waters,” Ruth said, reminiscing.
“Do you think you could find it now? Apart from a few fallen branches it seems pretty overgrown once you leave the track,” he said, looking around.
“These woods aren’t managed,” Ruth told him, “But if we stay on this path, it forks off to the left at an old tree that has been struck by lightening some time in the past.”
“So we look for this tree that was struck, and then go left, I take it, to find your pool?”
“No, actually, we keep on this path, about fifty yards past the left fork it comes to a dead end. There used to be a rotten log on the right. If we can get through the undergrowth, the pool is just a few yards beyond the log.”
Walking on, Scott let Mali off the lead, and the little dog ran around sniffering, and looking back to check where they were before going off once more.
Within minutes, they came upon the spot where the road forked, and they continued on. The rotten log was still there covered in lichen and fungi, home to spiders and other small creatures, and behind were overgrown bushes.
“This is the spot, Scott, there used to be a gap here somewhere. Jack would pull a fallen branch across it every time we came here. We didn’t want people spoiling ‘our haven’ as we thought of it back then,” Ruth told him, handing him the rug. “Hold this, and keep an eye on Mali, while I try and find the gap.”
Ruth stepped over the log and checked out the bushes. She spent several minutes going up and down the tangled mass, tugging on a branch here a
nd there. Just as as she was about to give it up as a hopeless task, the branch she was holding suddenly gave way and she was sent reeling backwards, colliding with Scott, whose body prevented a fall.
“Ah, darling, I never expected you to fall for me in such a big way, lay some sugar on me, baby,” he joked.
“I think I found the gap,” Ruth laughed, still holding onto the small branch that had detached itself from the overgrown bush. Mali came over to see what all the commotion was about, running from one to another, tail wagging furiously.
“I’ll go take a look at the hole you’ve made,” he said, setting down the picnic basket and handing her the rug. He pulled a few small branches aside, widening the gap Ruth had made, and he peered through, surprised to find he was looking at a small glade, with patches of lush grass here and there on the otherwise barren ground.
In the distance he could see a huge, moss covered, mound, and guessed it was the boulder Ruth had described when she told him about this place. He was curious to see where the couple had spent so much time during their courtship.
Scott, called Ruth over, and holding the branches aside, he helped her through the gap. Mali made his own hole, and raced on ahead, then stopped and stood looking back at them, waiting patiently for them to catch up to him. From the shelter of the trees where they stood, the glade had an eerie feel to it, as if it belonged somewhere else, in another time, and another place far removed from this one. It seemed out of place; as if some giant hand had taken it up and dropped it here in the middle of Abbeville woods.
As they walked through a patch of lush grass toward the boulder, the trees opened up, allowing sunlight through, and their ears picked up the sound of water trickling over rocks and stones. Reaching the pool, they both stood spellbound, hand in hand, taking in the the scene. The pool was fed from an underground stream, whose crystal clear waters trickling out of the ground made a soothing, tinkling sound, as it passed over small rocks into the pool. Sunbeams danced across the water, creating a magic of their own as they played over the rivulets, making them sparkle like diamonds.