Seeker, The

by Brindle, J. T.

  Now that they were higher up, Libby caught a glimpse of the sliver of light round the hatch and, sure enough, there was a shadow, as though someone was prowling about.

  Pressing themselves against the wall, the two of them waited. ‘I think it’s all right now,’ Libby said. She was feeling stronger, more able to move her limbs without wanting to cry out.

  Daisy climbed out first, then helped Libby. It was still very dark. The hatch led out into a small confined area. There was a door, slightly ajar, with light shining through. They listened for a moment and then went cautiously towards the door.

  ‘We have to go along the passageway and up the back stairway, then across the landing.’ Daisy said confidently. Libby wondered how she knew her way around so well but before she could ask, Daisy went on, ‘I have to make sure the old man is all right.’

  Libby was horrified. ‘You can’t,’ she gasped. ‘We’ve got to get out of here.’

  Daisy was adamant. ‘I promised,’ she said, and darted through the door and down the passageway. Libby had no choice but to follow.

  Swiftly they made their way up to the landing and paused outside the old man’s bedroom. Nothing disturbed the silence. Cautiously, Daisy opened the door and then stepped into the room.

  The door closed behind them with a sharp click. ‘I knew you’d make your way here.’ The voice was the same one that had taunted Libby in the cellar. She whirled to see a woman standing there, holding a long, sinister-looking knife.

  The woman turned the key in the lock and dropped the key into her pocket. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she said, smiling at Daisy. The smile slid away as she brought her gaze to Libby. ‘I can’t let you leave. I can’t let you spoil it now.’ Eileen’s face was like a hard, cruel mask. ‘You see, there are things that have to be done, things you don’t know about.’ Her evil gaze went to Daisy. ‘She knows though.’ The hard, twinkling eyes smiled wickedly. ‘The girl knows everything.’

  Growling at Libby again, she said, ‘We didn’t want you here. People like you don’t understand.’ She glanced to the floor, under the bed. ‘Ida doesn’t understand either. I had to put her to sleep, you see.’ The eyes glistened. ‘I may have to kill her.’

  Libby followed her gaze, gasping when she caught sight of a woman’s skirt peeping from beneath the bed. Suddenly she realised what that sweet, thick smell was that she had encountered earlier. ‘Chloroform!’

  Eileen laughed. ‘How clever of you.’ She moved away from the door and her arm snaked out and plucked Daisy away.

  ‘No!’ Libby ran forward but Daisy’s voice stopped her.

  ‘It’s all right, Mummy. She won’t hurt me.’

  Delighted, Eileen giggled. ‘See? I told you she knows everything.’ Suddenly the voice trembled with rage. ‘If I do hurt her, it will be your fault. Stay where you are and don’t interfere.’

  Libby did as she was told.

  Addressing Daisy now, the deranged woman said softly, ‘Look, Daisy.’ She gestured to the old man whose soft brown eyes were trained on Daisy’s face. ‘He knows you’re here. See how he looks at you? Tell him, Daisy. Tell him about her.’

  Libby couldn’t be sure, but she thought the old man was crying.

  Stepping forward, Daisy took hold of the old man’s hand.

  ‘Go on. Tell him you’ve seen her,’ Eileen urged. ‘Tell him about her.’

  Daisy stroked the old man’s brow. ‘She’s very beautiful,’ she murmured. ‘She loves you so much, and she will never go away. She wants me to tell you that. She will never go away.’

  Seeming to understand, he smiled at Daisy, then looked up at Eileen and nodded, a slow, accepting kind of nod.

  Eileen’s face softened and she bent to kiss him. Then, pushing Daisy to one side, she slowly, deliberately, raised the knife.

  Libby screamed. Her scream mingled with another, and suddenly all hell broke loose.

  From out of nowhere, Ida threw herself at Eileen and they tumbled to the floor, the knife skidding across the room, coming to rest at Libby’s feet. Grabbing it up, she caught hold of Daisy and together they ran to the door. Libby used the knife to force it open. ‘Please God,’ she muttered, her hands trembling so much she couldn’t get the blade through the gap. ‘Hold on to me, Daisy,’ she cried. ‘Don’t let go!’

  Dave was travelling fast as he approached the house. Slowing down, he swung the car through the gates and was immediately pounced on.

  ‘Sorry, sir,’ the grim-faced officer threw open the car door. ‘No one goes in or out.’ He bundled Dave away from the car.

  Vehemently protesting, Dave was delivered to Inspector Lowe. Here he was made to produce evidence of identity, while his car number was relayed to the station where it was checked out. Once his credentials were confirmed, he was informed of the reason for the police presence.

  When Dave explained that his wife was in there and he had no intention of just standing by, he was sharply informed that if he posed a threat, they would have no choice but to escort him away. ‘We have the situation under control, sir,’ Lowe emphasised. ‘We will get your wife out safely.’

  Realising he would get nowhere by crossing them, Dave decided to play along. The moment they began to relax their vigilance of him, their attention now focused on the lighted bedroom window, he seized his opportunity.

  The two women fought like wild things. Libby struggled to force the door open but it wouldn’t budge. Suddenly, there was a cry. Eileen fell hard against the window ledge, the blow momentarily stunning her. In a flash, Ida turned on Libby and wrestled the knife out of her hands, cutting them both in the process.

  By this time Eileen had recovered her senses, and as Ida turned away from Libby, Eileen punched her in the head with all her might. Ida crumpled to the floor, out cold.

  Sergeant Coley could hardly believe his eyes. ‘Look there!’ Pointing to the higher reaches of the house, he brought Inspector Lowe’s attention to the figure climbing up a drainpipe towards the lighted bedroom window. ‘It’s Walters!’

  ‘The bloody fool! Doesn’t he know we have men closing in? Who the hell was supposed to be keeping an eye on him?’

  Sergeant Coley thought it best to retreat. There was little they could do about Walters now, except watch, and hope.

  Libby sat hunched in the corner, blood pouring from the wounds in her hands and a deep gash down one shoulder. ‘Don’t move,’ she told Daisy in a soft, low voice. ‘Don’t make a sound.’

  Across the other side of the room, Eileen raised the knife once more over the old man’s throat. Libby would have fought like a tiger to save that old man’s life, but she couldn’t move. She felt as if she was pinned there by some unseen hand.

  Covering Daisy’s face, she said, ‘Look away, sweetheart. There’s nothing we can—’

  There was a loud thump at the door and then the window shattered and Dave was scrambling over the ledge.

  In the seconds before Dave ran to take Libby in his arms and the room was swarming with police, Eileen rushed across and grabbed Daisy by the hair. Pulling her out of Libby’s reach, she stood with her back to the wall and Daisy in front of her. ‘Come nearer and I swear I’ll kill her.’ Pressing the blade to Daisy’s throat, she drew blood. ‘I mean it!’

  Everyone froze where they were. All but Dave. ‘Let her go.’ Raising himself to his full height, he took one tentative step forward. ‘She means you no harm,’ he said. ‘You must know that.’

  ‘Stay away!’

  Libby pulled at him. ‘Please, Dave,’ she moaned. ‘Do as she says.’

  Into the ensuing silence came another voice. Recovering from the blow, Ida inched herself up to the end of the bed where she leaned heavily against it. ‘I thought you were my friend,’ she said, looking at Eileen through a veil of pain. ‘You killed Larry, didn’t you?’

  Eileen was quiet for a moment. The tension in the room was like a physical presence. ‘He was nothing. He deserved to die.’ Loathing shaped her words.

  ‘And w
hat about me? Do I deserve to die?’

  ‘I didn’t want you dead. I loved you. I didn’t know.’

  ‘What didn’t you know?’

  ‘You… his daughter!’

  ‘Yes, Eileen. Tony Fellowes is my father and, knowing it, I married his son, my own half-brother.’ Trembling, she hissed, ‘Have you any idea how vile it is to be touched by a man of your own blood? To lie there while he satisfies himself on you? But I’d do it again, just to be near this old man. To keep him alive, not out of love, but loathing. I had to make him suffer like he made my mother suffer.’

  ‘I stole the suitcase,’ Eileen said. ‘I read the things inside. Until then, I didn’t know.’ Her voice softened. ‘Your mother lied to you.’

  ‘My mother never lied to me!’ Ida’s face was livid. She scuttled to the head of the bed and grabbed the old man’s hair, jerking his head towards her. She stared into his open eyes and, twisting out every word as though it caused her agony, she said, ‘Years ago he promised my mother they would be married. But then he made her pregnant with me, and he didn’t want her – he didn’t want either of us. She pleaded with him but he was heartless. He went away, and she never saw him again. To give me a name, she married a monster. Her life was hell from that day on, and all because of this man!’ Twisting his hair, she delighted in his pain. ‘Her life was miserable, and when she’d had enough, she ended it.’ Her mouth twisted with pain.

  ‘After he rid himself of my mother, he married someone else. But I found out, and I decided I had to make him miserable, like my mother had been miserable. So I followed him one night, drove him off the road. I thought I’d killed them both. I should have waited but I had to get away. Someone saw me, a woman. I warned her off, frightened her so much she never dared tell that I was there. I went far away. When I came back, I discovered he wasn’t dead after all but put away in some hospital.’ She smiled. ‘I read about the woman walking the lane. I knew she was searching for him. I couldn’t let them be together, could I? How could I?’ She seemed to be asking herself, as if she wasn’t sure. ‘No! I had to keep them apart. My hatred was like a barrier between them.’

  Before she had learned Ida’s true feelings towards the old man, Eileen had come to love her like a mother. That love was in her voice now when she said softly, ‘Listen to me, Ida. You have to understand why I can’t let you keep them apart any longer.’

  Encouraged by Ida’s silence, she stepped forward. She held on to the knife, and Daisy too. From the other side of the room, Dave watched for his chance.

  ‘I know the truth,’ she said, moving nearer. ‘We have to let him go.’ She looked up suddenly and stared from Dave to the police officers. It was a cold, calculating look. A look that said, ‘I know what’s on your mind.’

  The police had already inched forward, but now Lowe shook his head and they stayed put. The risk was too great to the girl. Besides, he wanted these two to keep talking. It could defuse a very delicate situation. What’s more, little by little the truth was emerging.

  ‘What could you know?’ Ida spat out.

  ‘I was in the hospital when you came to get him. I was ill, just like him. My mind was sick. The other patients laughed at me, hurt me, but he didn’t.’ Her gaze went to the old man. ‘He was my friend. Before he lost his speech, he told me things.’

  In spite of herself, Ida was caught up in what Eileen had to say. ‘Did he tell you about my mother?’ she demanded. ‘Did he tell you how he ran away after he made her pregnant with me? He never wanted us, either of us!’ Her voice trembled with emotion. She would have given anything for things to be different.

  ‘You’re wrong. He wanted you both.’

  ‘Then why didn’t he stay?’

  ‘Because your mother didn’t want him to stay.’

  ‘You’re lying!’

  ‘It was your mother who found someone else, not him. He loved her so much, Ida, and she sent him away. She deprived you of a father.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Ask him, Ida. Go on, ask him if he ever wanted you.’

  Slowly, Ida shifted her gaze to the old man’s face. To her surprise, he was crying. Those wise brown eyes were looking at her like a father at his child, and in that moment all the years and the doubt rolled away. She knew then. ‘She’s telling the truth, isn’t she?’

  When he nodded, her voice broke and the awful grief, which had lain dormant for so long, broke free.

  With a strength born of happiness, he raised his arms to her. Gratefully, she nestled into his embrace. ‘I’m sorry,’ she sobbed. She thought of all the years she had tortured him; all those times when she had felt an overwhelming tenderness towards him, as though his love had ignited the truth inside her. ‘I love you, Daddy.’ She was a little girl again, only this time her father was there. The agony was over for them both.

  Suddenly, everyone moved at once. Dave snatched Daisy safely away, two officers took hold of Eileen, and Inspector Lowe rounded the bed to release the old man from Ida’s embrace. As he pulled her away, the pillow fell from her grasp, and the old man rolled back on the bed, his eyes wide open.

  Just then the curtain blew through the broken window, the wind sounding like a sigh. At peace now, Ida looked across the room at Eileen, their smiles mingling, knowing.

  ‘Look! She’s come to get him,’ Daisy cried.

  ‘I think you’re right, sweetheart.’ Libby looked towards the window with a sense of wonder. She had heard and seen things this day that she would remember for the rest of her life.

  15

  The events of that night became the talk of the country. News spread of how Ida had killed the old man. Some people thought they understood why she had done such a thing – guilt, remorse, love for her father. Others believed she was a cold-blooded murderer who should be strung up by the neck and shown no mercy.

  Opinion about Eileen, too, was divided, but most thought she was a hard and calculating woman who had murdered not just once but many times, and all for the love of that old man.

  The old man was buried a week later, in a little church in the village of Marston where as a young man he had lived with his wife for many happy years; it was here they had raised their son Larry and known their greatest joy.

  The only mourners at the church were a scattering of strangers, brought there by morbid curiosity, two photographers, and, out of sympathy for what had happened to him in his later years, Dave and Libby. Daisy, too, came to pay her respects, for she would not be left behind.

  The service was short and comforting, and when Tony Fellowes was laid to rest in the old churchyard, Dave took his family home.

  On the following day, a beautiful Sunday morning more reminiscent of June than February, the whole family strolled through the woods and along by way of Miss Ledell’s house. ‘Such a lovely old house,’ Libby said. ‘Such a pity.’

  The four of them stood, hand in hand, looking at the charred ruins of that delightful dwelling. ‘No one seems to know how it was burned down,’ Dave murmured. He had seen the burnt-out house before, as though he had been allowed a peep forward, into another time. He had looked on the same scene and been saddened by it. Now he felt a great surge of joy. There was something beautiful here still, though it was not tangible. The air was filled with a sense of happiness, and he felt it deep inside. Daisy had said the old man was happy now, and he believed it with every fibre of his being.

  He thought about the young woman who had taken Mandy’s place. And the old lady, Miss Ledell. Neither of them had been seen since the day of the old man’s death. He smiled inwardly. For the love of her man, Cliona Ledell had taken on many guises.

  They walked on, closer to the house. Dave wondered if the piano was still as before, untouched by the flames. As they came into the garden, the children ran ahead.

  ‘Be careful, you two,’ Dave called. ‘Stay well away from the house.’ He turned to Libby. ‘All right, sweetheart?’ This past week she had recovered well from her ordeal. Her hands were healing,
but the deep gash on her shoulder would probably leave a permanent reminder of the horrors that had unfolded around her.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she assured him. ‘It’s such a lovely day, let’s not be in too much of a hurry to go home.’ Lately she had come to appreciate more than ever the beauties of a world she had almost lost. ‘I do love you,’ she murmured, looking up at Dave. ‘Don’t ever doubt that.’

  He held her tight, kissing her long and tenderly. ‘I’m a lucky man,’ he whispered in her ear, smiling a little. ‘We still haven’t had our weekend away.’

  ‘Soon.’ Returning his smile, she said, ‘But I think we might have to take the children along.’

  He laughed. ‘If we didn’t, we’d probably find Daisy curled up in the boot of the car when we got to the hotel.’

  Daisy and Jamie ran towards them.

  ‘Daisy?’ There was something he’d been meaning to ask her.

  ‘What, Daddy?’

  ‘Before you hid in Mummy’s car, outside the shop that day, how did you know where she was going?’

  Smiling, Daisy pointed towards the house. ‘She told me.’

  They followed her gaze. For a moment they could see nothing. The sun was suddenly blinding.

  ‘Look!’ Libby cried. ‘By the shrubbery.’

  Dave stretched his neck to see, and there, hand in hand, a couple strolled down the path, away from the house, away from all things earthly. The woman was young, very beautiful, with long dark hair and a spring to her step. The man was old, grey-haired, but as they went away, the mark of time began to fade. He became younger, his hair darkened, and soon they were laughing and running, happy in each other’s company.

  ‘They want us to know,’ Dave murmured, folding his arms about his family. ‘They want us to see.’

  ‘They’re together at last,’ Libby whispered. Leaning into Dave’s arms, her eyes filled with tears. ‘Let’s go home, sweetheart,’ she said.

  As they made their way back, they were lost in wonder, knowing they were privileged to have seen another time. Another world.