The Spider's Web

by Ben Cheetham

  Anna noted the bus’s destination. Ollerton – a small town an hour or so to the north of Nottingham. She stayed out of sight as the bus passed, then darted back to the van. As she set off after the bus, she phoned Jim. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘In Leicester, not far from Alison Sullivan’s parents’ house. I managed to speak to a couple of the Walshes’ former neighbours earlier. And guess what?’

  ‘They didn’t remember Sharon being pregnant.’

  ‘Got it in one. Where are you? It sounds like you’re driving.’

  ‘I am and I think maybe you should get back here.’ Anna filled Jim in on what had happened that morning.

  ‘I’m on my way.’ His words were accompanied by the sound of a car turning sharply. ‘Don’t hang up. I want to hear exactly what’s going on at your end.’

  The bus headed along Mansfield Road, leaving behind the city centre, passing ranks of suburban housing that finally gave way to flat fields of wheat, barley and oilseed rape. Anna relayed a running commentary to Jim on when and where the bus stopped and who got off and on. It turned onto Ollerton Road and made its way north through a countryside dotted with pockets of woodland that gradually melded into an unbroken forest. The trees crept closer and closer to the road, until their leaves dappled Anna’s windscreen with shadows. A sign announced that she was entering Sherwood Forest. As she peered into the gloom of the trees, she found herself wondering whether somewhere amongst them there was another tree like the one in Leeds. Was that where Emily was heading?

  She uneasily told Jim where she was and asked, ‘How far away are you?’ There was no reply. She glanced at her phone. The reception bar was non-existent. ‘Fuck.’ She hissed the word through her teeth, glaring at the trees as if they were out to get her.

  A single reception bar returned as the car emerged from the trees at the edge of Edwinstowe, a village of white cottages and red-brick houses that the forest encircled like a protecting hand. She dialled Jim again. His voice crackled brokenly over the line. ‘Whe… a…’

  ‘I’m in Edwinstowe,’ said Anna.

  ‘I ca… you.’

  Did he mean he couldn’t hear? ‘Edwinstowe,’ Anna shouted. ‘What about you?’

  Jim said something, but it was too faint to make out.

  ‘Say again.’

  The bus slowed at a crossroads in the centre of the village. A snippet of Jim’s voice came through. ‘I… Calvert…’

  ‘Are you saying you’re at Calverton?’ asked Anna. Calverton was a village north-east of Nottingham. If Jim was there, he was still a good half an hour behind the bus. The bus accelerated and Anna did likewise. The line broke up completely again. As they passed out of the village and back into the forest, the reception bar dropped to zero and a ‘No Service’ message flashed up.

  A mile or so beyond the village, the bus turned into the large, tree-shaded car park of Sherwood Forest Nature Reserve. The car park was empty except for a couple of cars. Anna didn’t dare follow the bus into it for fear of being spotted. She pulled over at the edge of the road where the car park was visible through a thin screen of trees. The bus stopped at a little wooden shelter. When it continued on its way, Anna saw that Emily had got off. The girl was standing with her back to the road, turning her head from side to side as though looking for something, or more likely someone. Anna could think of only one person who that someone could be.

  Emily set off walking into the forest. Anna dialled Jim again, more in hope than expectation. The line rang three times, then went dead. She lost sight of Emily amongst the trees. She jumped out of the van, scurried across the car park and pressed herself flat against a tree. Peeking around it, she saw Emily heading along a path signposted ‘Visitor Centre’. She took a quick photo of the sign and sent it to Jim. Maybe it would get through. Maybe not. Either way, Jim would see her van parked on the road and know she was somewhere in the vicinity. Staying off the path, moving from tree to tree, she continued following Emily.

  As Emily walked, her gaze roamed amongst the trees. In the hazy sunlight there was a soft, almost dreamlike quality to the forest that drew her mind back to the many hours she’d spent there as a young child. There was a play park nearby, but she’d preferred to play amongst the slender birches and thick oaks, climbing, hiding, pretending to be an outlaw. It was only since discovering an interest in boys that she’d grown her hair and started wearing makeup. Not so long ago she’d been a tomboy with grubby hands and grazed knees. She’d especially liked to play inside the hollow trees, of which there were plenty in the forest. There was one in particular – a huge gnarled oak – that had been her favourite. Its trunk had snapped about four metres from the ground, allowing the sun entrance to its interior.

  Her pace slowed as she entered a clearing that contained a small assortment of one-storeyed, mossy-roofed buildings painted various shades of green to blend in with their surroundings. Nothing had changed since her previous visit. The buildings were centred around a life-size model of Robin Hood and Little John fighting with staves. She brought up the photo of Gavin on her phone. It had been taken twenty-six years ago. Will I be able to recognise him? she wondered. Will he recognise me? Has he ever even seen me?

  Other than herself and an old couple walking a dog, the clearing was deserted. She peered through the window of a café. A man was eating a sandwich at one of the tables. He had grey hair and glasses. Surely he was too old to be Gavin. She looked at the time on her phone. It was only twenty-five past eleven. Maybe Gavin wasn’t here yet. She wandered around the dusty exhibits, glancing without interest at scenes from the Robin Hood legend that had once fired her imagination. Ten minutes dragged by. A few people came and went. None of them looked remotely like Gavin. Her brow pinched thoughtfully. Maybe he’d decided it was too risky to come after all.

  She sat on a bench for a few minutes, then walked to the far end of the clearing where a sign directed visitors to the Major Oak – an immense hollow tree that Robin Hood and his men had supposedly sheltered within. Perhaps Gavin was there. She started along the path. Her gaze was drawn to a tree a short distance away to her right – the broken old oak that had been her childhood favourite. Something had caught her eye. A flicker of movement? A little cautiously, she approached the tree and looked behind it. Nothing. She squinted into the flaring crack at the base of the trunk. A hand suddenly emerged from it. She made to cry out, but before she could do so the hand smothered her mouth. A second hand grabbed her arm and yanked her inside the tree. As she struggled to break free in the wood-smelling gloom, a soft but distinctly male voice said, ‘It’s me. Gavin.’

  The hands released Emily. Her heart hammering, she pressed back against the tree trunk. She found herself looking into a face that was different yet unmistakably the same as the one from the Birmingham Evening Post article. Much of it was masked by a thick black beard that – like her mum’s hair – was several shades too dark to be natural. Equally black hair was pulled back into a receding ponytail. The face was weather-beaten, cut through with deep lines that flared from the corners of the eyes – eyes as dark as the tree’s bark. Their stockily built owner was dressed in a brown wax jacket and camouflaged trousers that almost made him seem part of the tree. As Emily took him in, he did the same to her. He smiled. Not a warm smile, but not a threatening one either. More a kind of calculated show of friendliness.

  ‘Hello, Emily. Where’s Dad?’

  ‘He’s back at the visitor centre,’ lied Emily, suddenly wishing he was. Even though the tree’s interior was carved with dozens of names, she’d always thought of it as a secret place. A safe place. But Gavin’s proximity within its close confines made her feel deeply vulnerable.

  His smile broadened. ‘No he’s not. It was you who sent those emails.’

  Emily made no reply. She glanced at the crack in the trunk as though she was thinking of making a run for it.

  ‘It’s OK,’ said Gavin, reading her apprehension. ‘I’m not angry. I’m glad you sent them.’
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br />   She tentatively met his gaze. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘A couple of reasons.’ Gavin ticked them off on thick, callused fingers. ‘Firstly, Dad’s a stickler for proper grammar. He’d never miss an apostrophe. Secondly, the forest is the usual place where we meet. How do you think I knew about this tree? When you were little I used to watch you play here.’ His eyes flickered with a sudden intensity. ‘And do you know what I’d think? I’d think to myself that you were the most beautiful child I’d ever seen. You’re even more beautiful now.’

  Not knowing what to make of the compliment or the way Gavin was looking at her, Emily blinked awkwardly. ‘So we’ve met before?’

  ‘No. I used to watch you from a distance.’ A little twist of bitterness came into Gavin’s smile. ‘And when Dad stopped bringing you with him I couldn’t even do that.’

  ‘Why did he stop bringing me?’

  ‘He said it was because you didn’t want to come here any more. But that wasn’t it, was it?’

  Emily gave a little shrug. ‘I never stopped enjoying coming here. I’m not really bothered about all the Robin Hood stuff, but the forest—’

  ‘Yes, the forest!’ Gavin cut in eagerly. ‘You feel it, don’t you?’ He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. ‘You feel the power of this place.’

  ‘I… I don’t know. I just like it here.’ Emily stiffened as Gavin reached out and put his hand on her arm again.

  ‘That’s because you’re like I was. You hear the trees speaking to you, but you don’t understand what they’re saying. I can teach you to understand. I can open your ears and your eyes. I can show you the truth. That’s what you came here for, isn’t it?’

  Emily hesitated to answer. There was a different kind of light in Gavin’s eyes now. Emily occasionally went – or rather allowed herself to be dragged – along to the Evangelical Church her mum attended. Gavin had the same look in his eyes as the minister there did when he was preaching. She’d never felt comfortable around such faith. She just didn’t feel it. For a long time she’d wondered if that made her a bad person. She’d even had nightmares about going to hell. One night, she’d tearfully confided in her dad and he’d replied gently, If you’re a bad person then I must be too, because I don’t feel it either. After that, she’d had no more nightmares.

  ‘Well,’ continued Gavin, a hint of impatience in his voice, ‘isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, I want to know the truth, but not about trees and all that stuff. I want to know about you and me.’

  ‘It’s all part of the same thing, Emily. It’s all one whole.’ Gavin braced his hands against the walls of the tree as though trying to hold them back. ‘The tree, the forest, you, me. You can’t know one thing without knowing the other.’

  ‘Are you some kind of druid?’

  Gavin laughed and wrinkled his nose, as though the idea both amused and disgusted him. ‘Druids are a made-up concept. I’m a child of Cernunnos, the Horned God. And his only law is that there is no law. Can you imagine that, Emily? A world in which there’s no right, no wrong. Just the freedom to be and do anything you want. I can show you that world. I can—’ He broke off at the sound of voices outside and peered through the crack. Two women passed by, one of them pushing a pram. His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘We’ve stayed here too long. Come on.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Somewhere we can talk alone.’

  ‘We are alone.’

  ‘I mean properly alone. There are too many people around here. Too many eyes and ears.’

  Gavin swiftly slid through the crack and headed into the trees. Emily followed more slowly. Did she want to be truly alone with him? She wasn’t sure she did. But what if she didn’t go with him? Would she ever get the answers she was so desperate for? He glanced back at her. His eyes flitted nervously beyond her. Then he continued on his way. She stared after him. You’ve come this far, she told herself. There’s no point backing out now. Taking a deep breath, she hurried to catch him up. And as she did so, his words went round in her head. A world in which there’s no right, no wrong. Part of her wondered what such a world would be like. Another part never wanted to find out.

  Anna took a photo of the ‘Major Oak’ sign and sent it to Jim. She blinked as though her eyes were playing tricks on her. One second Emily had been standing by a tree. The next she was gone. Poof! Like magic. Her eyes scoured the surrounding trees. Nothing. What the hell was going on here? She resisted an urge to dart forward and try to find out. What if Emily suspected she was being followed? She might have dived into the bracken that carpeted the forest floor and be waiting to see if her suspicion proved true. Anna reminded herself too that someone else might be lying in wait, watching both for Emily and anyone following her.

  She dropped to her knees and worked her way around to the right of the tree, keeping a distance of fifty or so metres between herself and it. She stopped moving when she saw the crack that allowed entrance to the tree’s hollow interior. Was Emily in there with Gavin? At that distance it was impossible to tell. Her mind returned once again to the tree in Leeds. An image came to her of Emily with a knife protruding from her chest. It was all she could do to stop herself from crawling close enough to get a look inside the tree. Be patient, she told herself. If either of them is in there, you’ll find out soon enough. She lay on her belly, peering between bracken fronds, her fingers curled around a thick dead branch. Several minutes edged by. More doubts crowded in on her. What if Emily had somehow managed to slip away with Gavin? The longer she lay there the less chance she had of catching them up. Her eyes were drawn to the path by movement, then darted back to the tree as a face appeared at the crack. For a second she had the crazy impression that she was seeing a living carving of the Horned God. She half expected a pair of curved horns to sprout into view. Then she saw past the illusion, saw the face that had haunted her for twenty years.

  Her first instinct was to charge at Gavin and pummel his ugly bastard face with the branch. Just keep on pummelling and pummelling until it was nothing more than battered flesh and broken bone. But if she did that she would never find Jessica. Rigid with hatred, she watched Gavin slither into full view. Emily emerged behind him. As he slunk off into the undergrowth, she stared after him, her eyes not quite afraid, but wary, like a deer uncertain whether to give flight or stay. She decided upon the latter.

  Anna’s hand tightened on the stick, and not only because Gavin was heading almost directly towards her. As Emily had started after Gavin, a sly smile had spread under his beard. Anna pressed herself as flat as possible, hardly breathing. Gavin was less than twenty metres away now, slightly off to her right. She placed her palm against the ground, ready if necessary to spring up swinging. She would have to get in a good first hit if she was to have any chance of overpowering Gavin. He wasn’t much taller than her, but his shoulders were twice as broad.

  ‘Do you live near here?’ asked Emily.

  Gavin made no reply. He veered away from Anna’s hiding place, turning onto what looked like an animal path. Anna forced herself to wait until Gavin and Emily were a good couple of hundred metres away. She hurriedly pushed herself upright and took a photo of the hollow tree and the animal path, before pursuing them. The sun was out, casting lines of light and shadow across the forest floor. Anna kept to the shadows as much as possible, taking photos every few hundred metres and sending them to Jim like a trail of crumbs for him to follow. She was constantly on the verge of losing sight of Gavin and Emily, but she dared not draw any closer. Other than birdsong and the sighing of the wind amongst the leaves, the forest was silent, and every sound she made seemed abnormally amplified in her ears. Several times she dropped to her haunches or dodged behind a tree, fearing she’d done something to give herself away.

  After maybe half a mile, they came to a broad grassy track. A battered blue Land Rover with a mouldy white roof was parked at the side of the track. A tarp-covered trailer was attached to the back of it. One edge of the tarp had come loose
and billowed gently in the breeze, exposing cut logs. Anna made to take a photo, but Gavin glanced over his shoulder. She ducked down, heart hammering. He wasn’t looking at her though. He was looking at Emily. He said something inaudible, then climbed into the driver’s seat. Anna’s mind raced. She couldn’t follow a vehicle on foot. From the direction of the track, she guessed it branched off the road she was parked on. But by the time she could get back to the camper van and find the track again, Gavin and Emily would be long gone. What the fuck was she to do? Suddenly she knew. On her knees and elbows, she crept closer to the Land Rover. Emily was standing by the passenger door, as if uncertain whether she wanted to get in.

  ‘How far is it?’ Anna faintly heard her ask. She couldn’t make out Gavin’s reply, but Emily got into the vehicle. The engine growled into life. This was it. It was now or never. Anna darted forwards and dived under the tarp. Splinters of wood speared her palms. She barely noticed. Adrenalin filling her veins, the pungent scent of freshly cut wood filling her nostrils, she waited to find out if she’d been seen. The Land Rover accelerated along the track, heading deeper into the forest. Relief rushed through her. She’d got away with it! For now.

  As the trailer rattled over the track, Anna poked her phone out from under the tarp and took more photos. For two or three miles the track cut straight as a ruled line into the heart of the forest. The trees changed from haphazard birch and oak to rigid rows of pines that let little light through their branches. The Land Rover turned left and descended gently for half a mile or so before making a right, then another right and a sharp left. Then it juddered to a halt, but the engine remained on. There was the sound of a gate scraping open. The Land Rover pulled forward a short distance. Through a tear in the tarp, Anna glimpsed Gavin closing and padlocking a wooden farm gate with a hand-painted ‘PRIVATE’ sign nailed to it. When Gavin returned to the car, Anna photographed the gate. After half a minute more, the vehicle stopped again and the engine was cut. The doors opened and closed. Anna craned her neck to try and get a glimpse of what was going on. But all she could see were the pointed tips of pines swaying against the cloudless sky.