‘I’ll leave the boots,’ I said to her then. ‘You can sell them on, after I’ve left and no-one will ever find the body. You’ve no need to worry.’
My ma looked up and stopped snivelling. ‘That’s not why I’m crying, Thomas. I’m crying because I shouldn’t have done it.’
‘Like Louise?’ I said, and this time I thought she really would faint, but instead she drew herself up a little.
‘I loved Louise and I wanted to do what was right for her. There’s no way your da would have let her come here.’
‘No,’ I said, ‘I suppose he wouldn’t. Assuming she wasn’t his flesh and blood.’ My mother coloured.
‘I’m sorry Ma, I’ve got to go.’
‘Got to go where? Because of this, you’re leaving us.’
‘No,’ I said, ‘not really, Ma. I just have to make a new start that’s all. Now that all of my friends have gone.’
‘So that’s what you meant about selling the boots. You’re not coming back.’
‘No,’ I told her. ‘Probably not.’
I never loved my ma more than then. She didn’t beg, or ask me to stay.
‘Will you come and see us Thomas? When you’re older?’
‘Probably not, if I’m honest, Ma. Where I’m going is far away. Far too far to come back for visits.’
‘Are you going with them, then, Thomas? Mary-Ann Parks and Wetherby Eisen?’
‘Probably not,’ I said sighing. ‘I’m more than likely to be on my own. But I’ll never forget you Ma, I promise.’ Then I gave her a hug and hurried away, half-wishing then I’d never gone back. But at least I knew about Tanya now. The poor cow, she’d had a raw deal. Stuck in poverty’s web like us, and not like me, with a chance to get out. I felt a sudden jolt of fear.
What if Alice didn’t come back?
Chapter 102
Now – Aleph
I rang Ginny, I knew I needed someone to talk to. But first I rang Cressida, she needed to know what had happened with Alice. I told her I’d been to see Martha’s house and then I told her what Alice had said. That Alice believed she’d caused Daniel’s death. By calling the boy across the road.
‘And after she’d told me, she left the house and disappeared in a throng of tourists. I knew I’d never be able to find her.’
‘You stupid man,’ said Cressida, sharply. ‘I truly wish you’d never been born.’ She slammed down the phone.
I stood there shocked and worried for Alice, I was still clutching the phone in my hand. I knew I was done with keeping secrets and trying to keep everybody else happy. A child had gone missing, a vulnerable girl.
‘So where is she now?’ Guinevere asked me, when she turned up later, looking harassed. I’d dragged her away from a pile of work.
‘Nobody knows,’ I said, with a frown. ‘I rang Cressida back, she’s called the police.’
‘Why aren’t you out there, searching for Alice?’
‘Martha’s out looking and so is her husband. I gather they don’t want me anywhere near. So Cressida said.’
‘You sound very bitter.’
‘I am,’ I told her. ‘Cressida knew where Martha had moved to, despite pretending she hadn’t been told.’
‘Never mind that, just think about Alice. At least she’s talking to her mother again, and that’s an improvement, and all thanks to you. The feelings she has are better off said.’ Guinevere passed me a mug of tea.
‘But now she’s gone missing again, and she’s troubled. And I’ve no idea where she might be.’
‘You know you once told me she visited the past? Went walking through that tunnel with Miranda? If I was Alice, that’s where I’d go, to visit my friends in their make-believe world.’ I sighed, exasperated.
‘It wasn’t a make-believe world, Guinevere. Curdizan Low was a place that existed, but I can’t go back, not even for Alice. I tried it once, just took the same route, but I ended up in a pile of rubble. It’s a demolition site that’s never improved. I think you need a guide to take you, Miranda, perhaps, or maybe Alice, but I can’t do it, I never could. I’ll give it a go, but I doubt it will work.’
‘So, why don’t we try something else, instead? Let’s listen to your recording of ghosts.’
I played back the file of that second cold night, when I’d sat on the bench and waited for death. It felt like that was another life.
‘I can’t hear anything,’ Guinevere said. She sounded disappointed.
‘I can,’ I told her. ‘It’s faint but it’s there, there’s at least one child, unhappy and sobbing. They’re sounds of despair, not screams of terror. Somehow I never got that before.’
‘Is it a boy or a girl? Could it be Alice?’
‘I’m not really sure, I think it’s a boy. Whoever it is, it’s not Alice; if you remember, I’ve heard her before.’ Ginny and I looked at each other.
‘You’ll have to do a reversal, Aleph. Maybe that will tell you something.’
The next day, I did a reversal and later that day Ginny came round. I’d rung Cressida, who’d spoken to me briefly, Alice was tragically still missing. Not a sight or sound of the girl anywhere, despite huge efforts by all concerned. Could Ginny be right? I wondered, pensively. Could Alice be wandering around in the past? The audio file was a welcome diversion.
‘It’s a boy sobbing,’ I told Ginny, ‘maybe it’s Tom. He’s crying and saying, “I’ll miss you, Miranda.” And then he says that “no-one will ever know you’re down here. No-one will ever discover this room, I’ll nail it up tight. I’ll leave the jacket and everything else, they’re not important. You’re the one who’s important, now. And now you’re dead.”’
I paused the recording and looked at Ginny. ‘I can’t believe Miranda’s dead. It wasn’t that long since I watched her walking along the street, with Alice in tow. You saw her too.’ Guinevere nodded.
‘Of course,’ I said, ‘she’d be dead now anyway, given that this was a century ago, but all the same it’s still shocking. When I saw her, she was just a young woman.’ I stared at Guinevere. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Haven’t you realised what this means? My great-aunt Clara was right after all. It can’t have been Mary-Ann Parks in the cellar, it must have been the girl, Miranda. Marianne will be so pleased when I tell her.’
‘I still wish it wasn’t Miranda.’
‘Where were you when you made the recording?’
‘Scriveners Road, in the courtyard. I sat on a bench and waited for ages. Nothing happened.’
‘So what did you do that made a difference?’
‘I wandered down to Curdizan Low. There’s not much there, but the coaching inn is. I stood outside and listened for noises. That was where I heard him sobbing.’
‘Tom,’ said Ginny, ‘it must have been Tom who found her body. What a terrible thing for a boy to face. It all fits, Aleph. There’s something else I haven’t told you.’
‘What a surprise,’ I said sourly. Guinevere smiled.
‘Years ago, when the demolition started, some builders found a hidden room, in an old house on Blackberry Close. I’m betting that house was the coaching inn. You know the tunnel started there, that’s probably how they moved the body. Whoever they were. And then, Tom sealed up the entrance.’
‘You can’t be sure it’s the same building, or the same body.’
‘Yes, I can. The boy we’ve just heard mentions a jacket, the builders found one too, hanging up. And I bet he mentions a mug of tea. They also found a mug on the bench. The tea, of course, had long since gone.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He mentions the tea. So the woman who died was the girl Miranda. I really wish it hadn’t been her.’ Then we heard the doorbell ring.
Ginny and I both went to the door. Alice was standing outside with a boy. They both looked like they’d been sleeping rough.
‘Your mother’s tearing her hair out, Alice,’ Ginny said sharply. Alice ignored her.
‘This is Tom,’ she said to me. ‘He needs a new home, he
’s not from round here.’ I stared at them both, almost disbelieving.
It was strange meeting the lad at last, after I’d learnt so much about him. Where he’d come from didn’t seem to matter. ‘I’m sorry about Miranda,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘You think she’s dead?’ said Alice, then. ‘She’s not, she’s alive. And Ben is too, and Mary-Ann Parks. Really alive, like here and now. And Wetherby Eisen, more’s the pity.’ She wrinkled her nose.
‘So who did Tom find in the coach house?’ We were still all standing on the doorstep.
‘Tanya Curtis, she knew my mother.’
‘The local tart.’ Alice grinned.
‘Alice!’ said Ginny. ‘That’s not very kind.’
‘She’s not,’ said Tom, and laughed, loudly. ‘She called me a wimp, before, for crying. For Louise,’ he said, and his eyes went dim.
I turned to Alice. ‘Your mum’s frantic and everyone’s searching. You mustn’t go off on your own like that. It’s not very fair.’ But Alice shook her head.
‘I’m not coming back,’ she said, insistent. ‘I only came here to introduce Tom.’ And before I could grab her and drag her inside, she was off down the steps and around the corner, presumably running for Curdizan Low.
Damn, I thought. Hell and damnation.
I glanced at Tom, who looked bemused and rather bedraggled. ‘Welcome to the twenty-first century, Tom.’ I ushered him in.
While Ginny rang Cressida to tell her the latest, I went into the kitchen and made some more tea. Tom dumped his old canvas bag on the floor.
‘You’ll need some boots, or at least some shoes,’ I said severely, glancing at his feet while I passed him his tea and a packet of biscuits. He gobbled them up.
‘There’s a boot up there,’ he said, watchful, staring at the boot on the shelf, up above us.
‘I found that boot in the cellar downstairs. There’s only the one.’
‘But I’ve got the other,’ he said, grinning, rooting in his bag and pulling out a boot. Sure enough, it matched my boot, though the one in his hand looked smarter and newer.
And so it would, I told myself, his boot hadn’t been in a cellar for a century. More even.
‘What’s up there with the boot?’ asked Tom.
‘It’s a necklace,’ I told him, suddenly wary. ‘We found it in the narrow passage, that leads from the cellar to the tunnel proper. We think it belonged to Mary-Ann Parks. Or rather, to Tanya.’
‘It belongs to Louise, and I bet that boot is hers as well, just like mine.’ His voice wobbled. Ginny reappeared.
‘Who’s Louise?’
‘Louise is my sister and also my friend. But she went away and never came back and now I’m here, I’ll never see her, ever again. By now she’ll be dead and gone forever.’ He stared at us both, his eyes welling up. We waited, patiently.
‘That necklace up there was meant for me, but I didn’t get it. Miranda left it with Tanya instead.’ He leapt from his chair and grabbed the beads from the top of the shelf, clearly determined to have them this time.
‘You think the boots belonged to her?’ Guinevere asked.
Tom nodded, he couldn’t speak.
‘Why don’t you put them on the step outside? Then if she comes looking, she’ll know you’re in here.’
‘I’ll do that,’ said Guinevere, quickly, giving me a look which said, you’re crazy. But she did it anyway, for which I was grateful. Tom glanced around the kitchen, curious.
‘This used to be a joinery workshop,’ he told me, frowning. ‘It’s different, now, from how it was then. There used to be a door right there. He wandered over to the back of the room. It led straight into…’
‘Curdizan churchyard,’ I finished, smiling.
Chapter 103
Then – Louise
Louise had been walking for hours, it seemed. The trams didn’t go as far as the Hall, it was out in the country, miles from anywhere, more’s the pity. Louise sighed and stopped by the hedge for another quick rest, she knew she had quite a bit further to go. It was dark and cold in the country lane, and back in Curdizan, the air would be thick with mist and menace. Out here, the damp seeped into her bones. Louise felt sad.
She’d left her place and with it, her prospects, but she’d had no choice, she’d been lonely there. I didn’t belong at the Hall, she thought. I’m a town dweller’s child, my place is in Curdizan. The Low or the High, wherever she had a friend like Tom. Being in service had chipped away at her untamed heart, but how would she live without a job? She thought again of Tom, briefly, she knew he’d be wondering where she was.
I didn’t dare tell him the truth, she thought, not with Pike using kids as workers. If Pike had even guessed at her plans he’d have stopped all that and had her out cleaning, as quick as a flash. At least I had a proper place, with food in my belly and somewhere to sleep. And gave it all up for a town, she thought.
A town that was just a tenement room and a mother who’d failed to stay alive.
She remembered seeing her mother jump, fall five flights down, be shaken and tossed and land in a heap, with barely a sound or a strangled cry. It hardly seemed violent, not like the blood on the slaughterhouse floor, or the fights in the bars on a Saturday night. But blood or not, or sound or not, her mother had died, eventually, and there’d been no reason to stay anymore. Apart from Tom.
I’ll go and see Tom straight away, Louise affirmed, the moment I’m back. No, first I’ll go and see Mary-Ann, and maybe she’ll let me buy back my beads. And, perhaps there’ll be some work I can do.
Her thoughts were all on her blue necklace, she didn’t even hear the horse ride up. Then she heard the clip of the hooves on the track and saw the shadow of the man behind her, and heard herself gasp.
The next thing she knew she was falling through space, the blow came down as if from a distance, and then felt nothing, apart from the night. The eternal black, that swallowed her up.
When Louise woke up she was on the ground, chilled with the cold, and her bones ached. The beautiful sight of the dawn approaching didn’t help cheer her aching heart. Had she been fed and warm and safe, Louise would have loved the sight of the day. The sun sparkled and the dew glittered, but all she could think was how cold she was. And how her head ached from where she’d been hit.
She dragged herself to her feet, carefully, saddened to see she’d lost her possessions, such as they were. Damn the scoundrel!
Slowly the night came back to her mind, the man who’d pushed her, knocked her so hard she’d fallen to the ground, then stolen her cloak, and her bag and vanished. Her bag had contained nothing but clothes, and a little loose change, but she’d miss that change; because of the theft she had no cash for tea. Or a soft spicy bun to fill her up. It was hours since she had departed the Hall. But at least I’m alive, she said to herself.
Louise sighed, weary, wondering what she would face at Curdizan. But at least she’d have Tom.
It was just gone ten when she first saw the abbey, standing so tall as it always did, reminding her then, that people lived lives which were more blessed than hers. She stood on the street by the steps to the school, wondering whether to go inside. Then she remembered the door would be locked, as it always was after school had started. I’d better go round the back, she thought. She wandered into the joinery workshop. Jake looked up.
‘I don’t suppose you remember me?’ Jake looked worried.
‘Maybe I’ve seen you somewhere before, but this is the workshop, it’s only for boys. Not that it matters so much today.’ He looked around. ‘Nobody’s bothered to come in but me. And I’m only here to pick up my things.’
‘I’m looking for Tom, have you seen him?’
‘No, not recently.’ Jake looked wary. ‘Why don’t you go up and have a look?’
‘I used to go to this school,’ said Louise. ‘But then, I walked out, without any warning. Pike will go mad if he sees me in here. I will go upstairs, if I have to, for Tom. But I’d rather y
ou did it, then no-one will care. I’ll give you something, for your trouble, a couple of coppers.’ Then she remembered she’d nothing to give.
‘I can’t,’ said Jake, looking regretful. ‘I’m not even meant to be in the building. But I had to come back and get my things.’ He grabbed some wood and what looked like a cloth.
‘I don’t understand why you’re leaving at all. Have they chucked you out for something? Tom always said you were one of the keen ones.’ Jake hung his head.
‘My aunt’s disappeared, and she used to give Pike some money for schooling, so he’s thrown me out as there’s no more dosh. I don’t think he thinks I’m worth a free place. So now, I’ll have to go begging again.’
‘Tanya Curtis is missing?’ said Louise.
‘More than likely dead, I reckon. My aunt’s not the sort to vanish at will, she liked her creature comforts too much. She never took anything with her either.’ He paused, looked hesitant. ‘That’s not all that’s happened around here.’
‘What?’ said Louise, feeling uneasy.
‘Several others have scarpered as well. Miranda Collenge from the Keepsake Arms and Ben Tencell, the undertaker. That’s no surprise, they were sweet on each other. But Mary-Ann Parks and Wetherby Eisen, that was a shock, although somebody told me they were engaged. That’s why none of the lads have turned up. Most folk are pleased that Eisen’s missing, nobody liked him, not one bit. But I’m fed up, I liked it here, not that it matters, now my aunt has gone.’
‘Miranda’s vanished?’ Louise said slowly.
‘Yes, and Tom, I didn’t like to tell you, though it’s only a rumour that’s going around. People are saying they haven’t seen him, he certainly isn’t at the Keepsake Arms. I expect he went with Miranda and Ben. He had no reason to leave, otherwise. I reckon you should ask his ma, Carol. She’s the person most likely to know.’
‘No,’ said Louise. ‘That can’t be true.’ She stood there, stunned, as still as a stone.
‘I’ll go upstairs and check, if you like. I reckon it’s worth it, if you’re upset. But I’m telling you now, he won’t be here.’ Louise nodded and Jake dashed off.
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