by Anne Mather
A middle-aged man, in his shirt sleeves, came to the door and looked startled when he saw the big American automobile at his gate and the tall stranger on his doorstep.
‘Yes?’ he said uncertainly. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I hope so,’ replied Nicholas pleasantly. ‘I understand that a family called Emerson live in this road. Do you happen to know where?’
‘Indeed I do. I’m Walter Emerson. What can I do for you?’
‘You have a son called Jeff….’
‘That’s right.’ He looked concerned. ‘What’s wrong? Has something happened to him?
‘No. Nothing like that,’ replied Nicholas patiently. ‘He has a girl-friend called Diana Scott. We’re looking for her.’
‘Are you? Well, she’s not here now.’
‘Do I take it she has been here?’ asked Nicholas, feeling hopeful.
‘Oh, yes. She was here earlier. She had her tea here with Mother and me, and Jeff of course.’
‘Of course.’ Nicholas tried to contain his impatience. ‘Then where is she now?’
‘What business is it of yours? She has no father. Who are you?’
Nicholas turned and beckoned Madeline to join them, and said: ‘I’m a friend of her mother’s. This is Mrs. Scott coming now. Diana has not been home since lunchtime. We didn’t know where she had gone.’
‘I see.’ Mr. Emerson nodded. Then Madeline joined them and Nicholas said: ‘This is Mr. Emerson, Madeline. He says that Diana has been here this afternoon and she had her tea with them.”
‘Did she?’ Madeline clasped her hands. ‘And where is she now?’
Just then a woman came up the passage from the back of the house. She was a florid-faced woman, heavily made up, with dyed blonde hair.
Mr. Emerson turned to her. ‘Oh, Sarah,’ he said, ‘this is Diana’s mother and a friend of hers. They’re looking for Diana.’
‘Oh, yes?’ The woman looked appraisingly at them.
Madeline felt she was mentally calculating what their relationship could be and coming up with all the wrong answers.
‘Could you tell us where Diana is now, then?’ repeated Madeline hopefully.
Mrs. Emerson pursed her lips. ‘I understood from Diana that she wasn’t expected home until late. She said that you had things to do.’ Her eyes turned to Nicholas. ‘She seemed upset about something. Jeff said he would take her out tonight. As it was raining Walter let them take the van.’
Her tone was insolently mocking and had it not been that Madeline needed the information she would have turned and walked away.
‘And where have they gone?’ asked Nicholas persistently.
‘They might have gone further afield if they have a car,’ murmured Madeline. ‘We’ve already searched the coffee bars.’
‘Was the van in good working order?’ asked Nicholas.
Mrs. Emerson stiffened her shoulders. ‘It’s a new van. Of course it was in good working order.’
‘They all run out of petrol from time to time,’ remarked Nicholas dryly. ‘However, where do you think they’re likely to have gone?’
Mrs. Emerson sighed. ‘It’s possible that young fool is stupid enough to go as far as London.’
‘What!’ Madeline was scandalized.
Mr. Emerson rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Earlier on in the week he was talking about some club that he’d seen when he was in London last weekend. He went up with some friends in their car.’
‘My car,’ said Nicholas sardonically.
‘Really!’ Mrs. Emerson was astonished.
‘Go on,’ said Nicholas to Mr. Emerson. ‘Where was this club?’
‘In Soho, I believe. You didn’t go in any night haunts, I suppose?’
‘No,’ said Nicholas with a sigh, ‘but it’s possible he saw the place from the car. We had a good look around.’
‘Well, that’s the only solution I can think of,’ said the man. ‘I’m sorry we can’t be of more assistance.’
‘You’ve been very kind,’ said Madeline, and meant it Whatever Jeff’s mother was like, his father was a very pleasant man.
‘Well,’ said Nicholas, ‘I guess our best bet is to drive along the road towards London. We might see them. After all, it’s after nine o’clock now and I don’t suppose they intend being too late back.’
‘I told Jeff ten o’clock,’ said Mr. Emerson. ‘When he has that van, I always worry. I told him to get himself home before the pubs turn out.’
‘What time did they go?’ asked Madeline.
‘About six,’ replied Mr. Emerson. ‘I reckon you just might come across them.’
Nicholas looked at Madeline. ‘Shall we try it?’
‘Yes, oh, yes, of course.’
‘Right. Thank you for your trouble.’
Mr. Emerson smiled. ‘I’m sure Diana will be all right with Jeff,’ he said patiently.
‘Yes, I’m sure she will,’ replied Nicholas, and with a nod he urged Madeline back to the car.
Madeline felt the older woman’s eyes following them and shuddered. Could Jeff really be as trustworthy as his father thought? Had his father been more like his mother she would have been really worried.
* * *
Diana looked irritatedly at Jeff as the van ate up the miles back to Otterbury. Outside the van the dreary rain fell faster than ever and she felt utterly depressed. It had been an awful day. First finding out that she was apparently not Joseph Scott’s daughter at all, and secondly finding out that Jeff, for all his good looks, was beginning to bore her.
Her boredom had begun the previous Monday when he had romanced on so long about Maria Vitale, but at that time she had still thought she was jealous. Now she knew better. She had gone to his home today because he was the only person she had felt she could turn to. Now she wished she had gone to Uncle Adrian’s. When she had told Jeff, in her first wild abandoned despair, about her mother he had actually laughed. Then he had sobered and said that as Nicholas Vitale did not appear to mind, why should she?
She had felt completely alone and desolate and when he had suggested this trip up to town she had jumped at the chance. She didn’t know then how she could possibly ever face her mother again, but now she felt a little differently.
‘Well!’ she said sarcastically to Jeff. ‘What a terrifically exciting joint that turned out to be!’
Jeff looked angrily at her, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. He, too, was disillusioned about Diana and he wanted to hurt her for sneering at him.
‘You were keen enough to go when I suggested it,’ he said curtly. ‘What’s wrong? Didn’t it come up to your high expectations? I expect a girl like you, coming from such a good home, won’t be used to such primitive conditions.’ His voice was tormenting.
‘Don’t be coarse,’ she said, looking disinterestedly out of the window.
‘I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?’ he mocked her. Then he relented. ‘Good lord, girl, at least it took you out of the apathetic state you were in when you arrived this afternoon. Talk about the dying swan….’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘What don’t I understand? You eavesdropped on a perfectly innocent conversation. How were they to know that you’d listen in to their discussion? Eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves, surely you’ve heard that.’
‘I know.’ Diana compressed her lips. ‘But can it be true that all these years, when I thought I was the result of a perfect marriage, that I was really only the result of a furtive scuffle in some back alley….’
‘Stop dramatizing everything. You’ve been doing too much acting lately. You’re trying to live your life like some big motion picture, where you’re the heroine who is eternally being wronged by the folk around her. Grow up, Diana, your mother is only human. She made a mistake, okay. But don’t condemn her for something that could happen to anybody. Good heavens, she might have put you in a home, or had you adopted. But no, she sacrificed her freedom by marrying a man old enough to be her father, j
ust so that you wouldn’t bear the stigma of illegitimacy.’
Diana stared at him. Of course, he was right. Why hadn’t she thought of it that way? It was true. She did try to place herself as the heroine, whereas actually she usually made a fool of herself. She remembered Maria Vitale and the easy companionship she had with her father. There was no possessive jealousy there. Maria seemed to be glad that her father had found someone he wanted to be with. Why couldn’t she be like that instead of spoiling everything for Madeline by her own inadequacy?
‘I suppose I have been selfish,’ she murmured, sighing.
‘Well, why didn’t you let them know you were there this morning?’
Diana bit her lip. ‘They were in the bedroom when I came in. I thought at first that they….’ She flushed. ‘But then I began listening, and you know the rest.’
‘And what were they doing?’ he asked, amused.
‘Oh…just teasing one another. They sounded happy together.’
‘There you are, then. They probably love one another.’ Jeff grimaced. ‘Hark at me! I sound like advice to the lovelorn.’
Diana relaxed a little. At times Jeff made good sense and she felt grateful to him for his honest opinion. It was a pity he was so forward in other ways. She was only sixteen, and she had no desire to delve into the intimate aspects of a relationship for quite some time yet.
‘Anyway,’ said Jeff, ‘you ought to be be able to understand how they feel for one another.’
Diana gave him a sidelong glance. ‘Why?’
‘Well…you and me, for example.’
‘Jeff, I’m sorry, but you and me…well, it’s finished! I like you, but I don’t want to have a serious relationship with any boy for a year or so yet. I want to finish my training and become a secretary. Then I might have time for that sort of thing. I think I must have grown up these last few weeks in spite of everything.’
Jeff frowned angrily, his profile visible in the light from the panel.
‘No girl finishes with me,’ he said clearly.
Diana looked surprised and for a moment she thought he was joking. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘I’ve done it Besides, Jeff, be sensible, you’re going to university in the autumn. You’ll have no time for me then.’
Jeff shrugged. ‘Why do you think you want to finish?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, Jeff. I think you’re too old for me. I’m still a child and probably the prude you accuse me of being.’
Jeff glanced in his mirror at the traffic following behind and then drew off the road, splashing through puddles into the shade of a copse of trees.
Diana felt herself shiver involuntarily and she said lightly:
‘Now come on, Jeff. We can’t stop here. It’s a filthy night, I’m cold and wet and I want to go home.’
‘Do you now? Well, I’ll soon have you warm and then you won’t want to go home. You’ll be begging to stay.’
Diana swallowed hard. She had got to keep her head. Jeff couldn’t seriously intend to touch her. After all, they were on quite a busy road. He wouldn’t dare? Right now, the prospect of home and her mother and even Nicholas Vitale was considerably more reassuring than this boy whom she was realizing she hardly knew at all. If only she had not said anything about not seeing him again until they were actually in Otterbury. That was what had started the ball rolling!
Suddenly before she could protest, he pulled her to him, pressing his hot mouth to hers. He held her suffocatingly tight and she tried desperately to struggle free of him. She was frightened and revolted by his lack of self-control and she did not know what she could do to stop him.
‘Jeff, please,’ she moaned, ‘let me go.’
Jeff looked at her mockingly. ‘Why should I? After all, you ran after me this afternoon. You were dying for someone to pour out your worries to. That was different, wasn’t it?’
Diana twisted in his grasp. ‘And I thought you liked me,’ she exclaimed.
‘I do.’
‘Then why treat me like some little tramp?’ she cried, feeling angry that he should think this of her and angry at her own helplessness.
‘I’m not, baby,’ he said, in a husky tone. ‘Get on with it. All the girls like a bit of fun….’
‘Well, not me,’ she retorted. ‘If you touch me, I shall scream!’
Jeff looked furious. ‘Stop acting, Diana. You won’t scream. Besides, it will be quite a new experience. I’ve never met resistance before.’
Diana was incensed, and in her desperation, she bent her head and bit hard at the hand that was gripping her shoulder. With a cry of pain Jeff released her for a moment and seizing the opportunity, Diana thrust open the door of the van and almost fell out on to the muddy grass bank.
The road was deserted and she dared not take the chance of a car coming that way. With hasty movements, she pressed herself between the rough twigs of the hedge and crawled into the copse of trees. She could hear Jeff shouting and following her and she got to her feet and began to run. She had a few seconds of freedom and she did not intend to lose them.
The copse was thick and black, and she bumped into more obstacles than she could put a name to in her haste. There was no moon and the rain was still falling relentlessly. In one respect she was glad it was a black night. At least her silhouette would not be so easily seen.
Everywhere was saturated from the heavy rain and the undergrowth soon soaked through her thin shoes and she squelched mud as she ran. In her headlong dash she gave no thought to what might be ahead of her, apart from a faint hope that she might find a farmhouse and help. She estimated she was about fifteen miles from home, which was too far to attempt alone.
She could hear Jeff threshing about behind her, calling her name over and over again. She wondered what her mother was doing and whether she was terribly worried about her. After all, it was after nine and she had not been home since this morning. She regretted so much now, her foolhardy flight this morning especially, and wondered whether incidents like that changed people’s lives.
The trees thinned and a moment later she emerged into the open. She looked wearily about her, and to her delight and relief she saw a light in the near distance, only about a field away. The blackness ahead of her showed nothing between her and deliverance and she began running gladly towards it.
Jeff, following behind her emerged from the trees only seconds after Diana. His anger was spent now, washed away by the chilling rain, and he was cursing himself for acting so foolishly. Diana was terrified and panic-stricken and he felt ashamed because it was his fault. But sitting there, listening to her calmly cutting him out of her life, had infuriated him and he had intended to teach her a lesson. But would she ever believe that he had only intended to frighten her? After this lunchtime’s revelations he ought to have realized she was in no mood to be played with and he felt a complete idiot. Poor kid, he thought anxiously, she must be half out of her wits.
He could now see her silhouette ahead of him and he began to run towards her. Then, without warning, he heard her scream loudly and disappear from view.
He halted abruptly, his heart pounding wildly in his ears and a cold sweat breaking out all over his body. Oh, God, he thought, what has happened?
With a feeling of dread he covered the space between where he had stood and where Diana had disappeared. He walked cautiously as he neared the spot, feeling gravel beneath his feet instead of the soft grass they had been running across. Accustoming his eyes a little to the gloom, he tried to see where he was and where Diana had fallen.
Around him now he could faintly make out the shapes of vehicles; large, unwieldy machines which seemed to be either tractors or dumpers, or possibly even cranes. It was difficult to see much at all with the rain still obliterating everything, but gradually, by concentrating on one spot, he realized that below him the ground fell away steeply into what appeared to be a quarry. Diana must have fallen into the pit. She could be dead!
Kneeling down, he lowered himself to the rim of t
he quarry and shouted: ‘Diana! Diana! Can you hear me? If you can, for God’s sake, answer me!’
The echo of his voice was muted by the rain, but there was definitely no reply. He repeated his plea once more, but again only the uncanny silence, broken only by the heavy drumming of the rain, answered him.
Trembling, he rose to his feet and stood for a moment, gathering his thoughts, uncertain of what to do next. He had got to get help, and fast, but how?
He looked about him. The quarry was enormous and it was no use him trying to find a way round it and perhaps risk falling in himself. No, his best and only solution was to return to the van, drive to the nearest telephone box and ring for an ambulance.
His decision made, he ran clumsily back through the copse, scratching his hands on branches and falling full length at times into the thick undergrowth.
At last he reached the hedge and scrambled through it on to the grass verge where he had parked the van. Getting into the van he turned the ignition key and pulled the starter.
There was no response.
With trembling fingers he pulled the starter again. Again there was no response.
Panting now, terrified with panic, he pulled the starter over and over again, and each time the engine refused to fire. He remembered suddenly the puddles he had splashed through when he had stopped the van. He had probably soaked the distributor, wetting the points which would not fire until they had had time to dry.
He got out of the van and looked up and down the road. There had been plenty of traffic passing them earlier. Surely some vehicle would come his way?
A car, coming from London, appeared in the far distance and Jeff positioned himself in the middle of the road, waving his arms about wildly. They must see him! They must stop!
The car slowed when its occupant picked out Jeff with his headlights and it cruised slowly up to him, warily, as though unsure of his intentions.
Jeff sighed with relief, and ran to the car eagerly.
‘There’s been an accident,’ he exclaimed, to the astonished man and woman in the car. ‘Can you give me a lift to the nearest telephone?’