Shadows of the Lost Child

by Ellie Stevenson

  ‘A mistake which caused a child to die. And you think I shouldn’t care about that? Well, I guess you would.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ I said. I already knew.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said, standing up, ‘I didn’t mean anything, or perhaps I meant you’re weak and a coward. With the cards, for example.’ She headed into the other room and picked up the shoebox. I hurried after her.

  ‘These old cards from your girlfriend, Jenny?’

  ‘Gerry,’ I said and stood and watched her, mesmerised. She waved the box in front of my face.

  ‘All of these envelopes, how many are there, one, two or three? No, there are four. I see you’ve opened the first one already, but when are you going to open the rest? And if you’re not, just throw them away. Why don’t we do it right now, Aleph. Or, maybe I could open them for you?’ She picked out one of the sealed envelopes.

  ‘No!’ I told her, almost shouting, ‘they’re mine, those cards, they’re nothing whatever to do with you. Give that to me.’

  ‘How do you know,’ said Cressida, slowly, ‘if you haven’t opened the envelope?’

  ‘Just give it to me,’ I said sharply, ‘and the box. Now, Cressida.’

  Cressida sighed and dropped the box on the nearest chair. An envelope fluttered onto the floor.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I shouldn’t have done that. I think I’m in shock with what I did, or didn’t do. I’m sorry Aleph.’ She sat on the sofa.

  ‘You mustn’t blame yourself,’ I said. ‘The person who drove the car was to blame.’ I couldn’t look her in the face.

  ‘The way I heard it, Daniel rushed out. Which makes me much more to blame than… the driver.’

  The air was thick with things unsaid. I knew I needed to ask some questions, and hear her replies and deal with all that. I already thought I knew what she’d say. I looked at Cressida and thought about asking. I couldn’t do it.

  Chapter 84

  Then – Miranda

  When, later that evening, Tom went home, Miranda’s thoughts were all of a turmoil. Should she have let Tom into the secret? What would she do if Thomas left? He was only a boy, but she’d really miss him, and his work. Could his mother have stolen the silver? It didn’t seem likely. Shoes, yes, with the help of another. But trundling down a dark, dirty tunnel? It certainly wasn’t the work of Scotty. He’d barely have found his way along it, full to the brim, as he’d be with ale. She wiped her hands on an old towel and wandered along to her ma in the parlour.

  ‘Carol and Scotty Islip are leaving. Packing their bags, as we speak.’ She watched her ma, for a reaction.

  ‘You’re having me on, Miranda, surely.’ Her mother cleaned a tray with a cloth.

  ‘No, I’m not, it was Tom who told me. He said his da had come into money, with possibly more of the same to follow. You wouldn’t know where the money’s come from, would you, Ma? Seeing as Carol and you had that sideline. The one with the shoes.’

  Her mother sighed and sat down on a chair. ‘Matt McCarthy was our friend. He’d have laughed if he’d heard what we’d done with the shoes. Well, maybe not laughed, but forgiven us, anyway. I don’t know anything about Scotty’s windfall.’ She pulled out a fag and lit it up.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t smoke, ma, please.’

  ‘I’m not on this earth to please you, Miranda. But, as for Scotty, it’s news to me. And after all I’ve done for that woman.’ Hannah Collenge shook her head.

  ‘You’ve been a good friend to her, Ma, that’s true.’

  ‘I’ve been a lot more than that, Miranda, I’ve stuck to that woman through thick and thin. And all through the time with Matt McCarthy.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘I mean her fling, you stupid girl. Well, more of a love thing, it lasted for years. I shouldn’t have said, and I shouldn’t be smoking. It’s not very classy.’ She took a quick drag and nipped the ends of the fag together. ‘Remember, Miranda, I’ve told you nothing.’

  ‘Are you sure you haven’t been drinking, Ma? I thought it was you and Matt McCarthy.’

  ‘Of course it wasn’t, I told you that. It was always Carol and she was so scared that Scotty would find out. So I would go round to Matt’s house in the evenings and act as lookout, or make out that Carol and I were together, having a gossip. All to keep Scotty Islip happy. You know that man’s got a hell of a temper, when he’s been drinking? And no man likes to be made a fool of.’

  ‘Yet you encouraged him to come to this pub.’

  ‘That was all part of the plan, Miranda. When Matt died, Carol was gutted, heartbroken, really. So I did what I could by bringing Scotty here, filling him up with booze and fags, to stop him going home to be with Carol. So she could cry to her heart’s content.’

  ‘You did all this for Carol Islip?’

  ‘She’s a friend, Miranda. She’d do the same for me, I’m sure.’

  Miranda wasn’t quite so sure. ‘I never knew you were such a saint. How long had this been going on?’

  ‘Years, Miranda, a very long time. It proved a bit of a problem sometimes, especially with Scotty being like he is.’

  ‘You mean, jealous and drunk and lazy as hell. Well, I’ll tell you Ma, I’m glad they’re going, I can’t stand the man, but I will miss Thomas, he’s a hard-working lad.’

  ‘Yes, at least she’s got Thomas, that’s something I guess.’ Miranda said nothing. She hadn’t much pity for Carol Islip.

  Grabbing a broom, she walked back down the passage to the bar. The passage was chilly, as if the door to the bar had been open, but the door was closed, just like she’d left it. She peered back down the passage to the end and noticed the back door was slightly ajar, enough to cause a bit of a draught. I’m sure I closed that door earlier.

  Had someone come in the back way? she wondered, after she’d closed it to keep out the cold. Cath and Reg and Steve had long gone. Miranda paused and felt apprehensive.

  She hoped no-one had heard what they’d said.

  Chapter 85

  Now – Aleph

  Cressida didn’t want to talk so she left as soon as she could after that. Leaving me with my thoughts, unsaid.

  I’d never faced up to the part I’d played in Daniel’s death, all I’d done was run away, but now the past was coming back, in spite of all my efforts to keep it away. Daniel was known to Alice and Cressida, they’d been staying at Cressida’s friend’s house; that friend was probably Daniel’s mother. Daniel’s mother would have known my name, I’d written to her and her husband afterwards. So Cressida must have known all along.

  I doubted Alice had told them anything. Alice liked secrets, and Cressida had always kept her own counsel. But she’d hinted at something that time with the shoebox, why had she never told me the truth?

  Later that day, the doorbell rang.

  ‘You’ve fixed it, I see,’ said Guinevere James.

  If only everything else was so easy. I invited Ginny in.

  ‘How are the ghosts, Mr Jones?’ she said.

  ‘They’re not playing. You can make the tea, today, you know where it is.’ Guinevere followed me into the kitchen.

  ‘I sat around in the freezing cold for half of the night and didn’t hear a single sound. I even tried in the house as well, and checked the recording, in case it was me. I got absolutely nothing. I didn’t try the cellar, though, I’ve no intention of going down there. I’ve never heard the ghosts in the cellar.’

  ‘I think you’re scared, Mr Jones,’ said Ginny, and passed me the tea, which was better than mine. ‘We’ve run out of biscuits.’ She put the empty tin on the table.

  ‘I’ll try again before too long,’ I said, thinking, ‘and then, perhaps, I’ll go down the cellar, if you’ll join me.’ I looked at Ginny.

  ‘You know how to make a girl feel special,’ said Ginny. ‘I’ve got some news, as it happens.’ She paused, for effect.

  ‘I went along to the library yesterday, checked the census and guess wha
t I found? A number of people who might be of interest. Not just Eisen and Mary-Ann Parks, but someone called Miranda Collenge who lived at a pub called the Keepsake Arms, and a man, Ben Tencell who worked at the coach house. He was an undertaker.’

  I wondered where this story was going.

  ‘The reason I’ve latched onto these four people is that ten years later they’d all disappeared, every one of these people had vanished. Not just Mary-Ann Parks and Eisen, which is what we’d expect, she would be dead and he would have scarpered, but the other two as well, and three of the people were similar in age. Miranda Collenge was slightly younger, she was just eighteen.’

  ‘So the three still alive had vanished from the census ten years later, what does that mean? They could have moved on for jobs or marriage.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Guinevere, looking thoughtful. ‘But these were traditional working class areas around Curdizan Church and Curdizan Low. Sure, the itinerants came and went, usually the Irish or casual workers, but most of the families stayed for years, even the young people. It was rough and tough, but solid, substantial.’

  ‘It certainly was,’ I said thinking back. ‘Exceedingly tough.’

  ‘You sound like you know.’

  ‘I do,’ I said. ‘You might as well hear it, you know all the rest.’ So out it all came, Miranda and Alice, and the boy Tom.

  ‘So that’s who Tom was,’ Guinevere said. ‘And the woman we saw was the girl, Miranda?’

  ‘Yes,’ I told her, regretting sharing the story already. ‘And don’t go telling this story to the tabloids, or anybody else, for that matter. They’d think I was crazy or made it all up.’

  ‘Or troubled,’ said Ginny, ‘which is hardly surprising, given what happened.’

  ‘You can ask Cressida, if you don’t believe me. She found Tom, and I’ve checked the census and Tom is dead.’

  ‘I don’t know Cressida.’

  ‘But you do have a mutual friend,’ I said. ‘And I think I can guess just who she is.’ Suddenly Ginny wouldn’t meet my eyes. I took a deep breath.

  ‘I had to give Cressida some very bad news about Daniel’s death. Alice thinks Cressida is partly responsible and that’s why she won’t talk to her mother.’

  ‘Have you told Cressida you were the driver?’

  ‘I’m almost certain she knows already. Doesn’t she Ginny?’ Ginny said nothing so I hurried on.

  ‘This friend of Cressida’s, the one whose house they were at that day, when Alice went missing and Daniel died, I’m guessing she’s probably Daniel’s mother? And your friend too?’

  Ginny didn’t answer, instead she stood up. ‘I have to go, I’ve copy to write, I’m on a deadline.’ She looked quite concerned, and not about the deadline. She still wouldn’t look me in the eye.

  ‘I think you owe it to me to tell me.’ But the friend I thought I had shook her head.

  ‘You need to talk to Cressida, Aleph. About Daniel, and about what happened, it’s not my story. But from what you’ve just said, Cressida will probably blame herself for what happened to Daniel, even if you and Alice don’t. And I know you don’t want that, Aleph.’

  Chapter 86

  Then – Tanya

  Tanya Curtis picked up her broom and pretended to sweep in the farthest corners. She hated her job cleaning the church. Today was one of the typical bad days, there were people all over, Mrs Mace, adjusting the flowers and Mary-Ann Parks, who kept popping in and out. She normally left such work to her mother. She watched the girl bend over a box and put something in it, some kind of cloth, or a shawl maybe, she couldn’t tell what. More for the jumble, thought Tanya bitterly. As if she, Tanya Curtis, didn’t need clothes, she’d worn this skirt to rags, she had. And then she perked up, recalling the silver she’d sold to Carol.

  I won’t be wearing old clothes much longer, she said to herself, now that we’re on to a winning streak. But I’ll wander over to the box later. There might be something for Jake in there.

  She worked her way down the church, carefully. The vicar was strict and liked the church to be clean and polished and Tanya was good at such surface work, hiding the dust under pews and in corners where no-one would ever find it for ages. She approached the steps that led to the crypt. Time to go down, she said to herself.

  She hadn’t enjoyed her tunnel walk. Alone in the dark, risking the rats and God knew what, she needed to find an easier way to get to the goods, via the church. The door to the crypt was locked, unfortunately, but that didn’t bother Tanya much, she knew where the vicar kept the key. She opened the door.

  Tanya walked down the stairs, slowly, gripping the rail, it was dark down here, as black as pitch. She hadn’t thought to bring a lamp. My eyes will adjust, she told herself.

  The steps were narrow and very uneven but Tanya finally reached the bottom. The crypt, she knew, ran the length of the building and when lit up was rather attractive. Unlike now, but at least it’s wider than the tunnel, she thought. She’d have to get a system in place.

  She made her way to the corner, quickly, to the place she thought the treasure would be. She knew she hadn’t a lot of time, if she was caught, she might get the sack, and then it would be the tunnel or nothing.

  As she walked over, Tanya’s eyes adjusted slightly, she identified shadows and shapes and stone. She almost fell over a chair at one point, but did a quick turn and managed to avoid it, twisting her foot, and cursing loudly. Then she saw crates, piled up in the corner. She hurried towards them.

  Reaching inside she yelled with surprise, the boxes were empty, there was no stock in them, no silver or pewter or anything else. All her lovely treasure had gone. Tanya moaned.

  Later that day, she called on Carol, knocking sharply on the door, instead of going in, like most people did. Carol was funny, she didn’t like people going in her house, without her permission. It gave her a name for being stuck up. Tanya shivered, the day was cold, and she pulled her thick shawl around her shoulders. She wanted to feel the warmth of the fire. After the crypt, she thought, bitterly. Then she saw Carol’s face at the door, the face of a woman not pleased to see her. She felt even worse.

  But I’m the one who brings you the stock. Not anymore.

  She tried to stand taller, as Carol emerged and followed her into the tiny back room. It was warm and dry, unlike Tanya’s rooms, and the fire was hot and glowing with coal. She felt a sudden burst of envy.

  ‘That broth smells good,’ said Tanya, hungry. She hadn’t eaten since eight in the morning.

  ‘It’s only a bone and some veg Thomas got me. You know he’s working at Mason’s at the moment?’ Carol gestured to a pile of boxes, all ready for packing. ‘I need to get on. What did you want?’

  Why do I have to want anything? Can’t I just come round for a chat? ‘Moving, are you?’ Tanya asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Carol, looking defensive. ‘Now our little agreement’s begun, Scotty and I have decided to move. Scotty’s always wanted to start his own business and Thomas can quit the pub and join him.’

  Tanya laughed, she couldn’t help it. ‘And Thomas is alright with that, is he?’

  ‘Not at the moment,’ Carol frowned, ‘but he’ll soon come round, in a better house, with likely more money, working for his da. He doesn’t know what’s good for him, yet.’

  ‘And how have you managed to find the money?’ Tanya could feel the bitterness rising, the sense of betrayal, an anger brewing but she managed to contain it, there’d be time enough for anger later.

  Carol smiled. ‘Well, we’ve made quite a bit, and we’re very grateful. We couldn’t have done it without you, Tanya. Scotty has contacts, good contacts, and they’ve been happy with what you’ve supplied.’

  ‘You mean you’ve made a killing, Carol.’

  ‘No, not a killing, of course we haven’t, but Scotty’s contacts know what they like, they knew which goods had value and worth, and paid accordingly and that’s thanks to you.’ Carol paused briefly.

  ‘Then, when you gi
ve us more to sell, they’ll do the same, and that’ll help too, help all of us, you and me and Scotty and Thomas.’ Her voice tailed off.

  They’ve ripped me off, thought Tanya, bitterly. I thought the treasure was just old stock, silver and pewter, but nothing special, but those two have made good money out of it, and on my back. How dare they do that! All I’ve been given is the crumbs from the table. Well, I’ll show them.

  ‘Assuming there’s anything left to sell,’ she said to Carol.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Carol, slowly. Tanya smiled, a cold, cruel smile.

  ‘Today I was meant to be cleaning the church. Sweeping and dusting, that sort of thing. So I went downstairs to check in the crypt, to see the goods for sale were still there.’ Tanya watched Carol. She’d never said where the stock had been stored, but what did it matter, now it had gone? No-one could prove she’d taken the things, not even Carol. She watched the woman she’d thought was her friend. What did he see in you? she thought.

  ‘The stock has all gone, all of it Carol, there are just empty boxes, piled up high, with nothing inside them, not even dust. I know because I checked them all. I’m sure I don’t have to spell things out. Your little dream of a life elsewhere is simply that, a sad little dream, unless, of course, you’ve enough already.’

  Carol hadn’t, Tanya knew, it was easy to read that much in her face. Tanya smiled as Carol went white, and thought that watching her friend’s dreams crumble, almost made the loss worthwhile.

  Chapter 87

  Then – Miranda

  Her head was buzzing with loads of things, like what Ma had said about Carol Islip. Carol and McCarthy, who’d have believed it? After finishing work at Chaucer’s one evening, she went round to Ben’s.

  ‘I knew you’d come back,’ said Ben, grinning. He was holding a hammer and nails in one hand.

  ‘Only because I need information.’

  ‘Really?’ said Ben, his smile vanishing. ‘Maybe you also need some tea? The water’s still hot.’

  ‘Who do you sell the stuff to, Ben?’