Zoo

by Phil Price

  “Yes? Can I help you?”

  “Good morning. My name’s Hugh. I live in the village a few streets away. I take it you know all about the people that have gone missing?”

  “Yes. My daughter, Caroline was one of them.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that. My wife is also missing. It’s been three weeks and I’ve heard nothing.”

  “Same here. The police have been around, asking questions. But since then, nothing. I am so worried about her.”

  “I bet you are,” he replied solemnly.

  “She was thinking of moving to the village, relocating from Wales to look after me. My health is not so good just lately, and I’ve had a couple of break-ins over the last year or so.”

  “That’s the reason why I am here. May I come in?” Hugh asked as the rain started falling heavier, flattening his thinning brown hair.

  The elderly woman hesitated for a few seconds before stepping aside in the small porch, allowing the man to enter the cottage. He removed his shoes, mentally cursing as he noticed a large hole in his hiking sock. “Go on through,” the woman said. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” he paused, unsure how to address her.

  “Margaret,” she said, smiling.

  “That’s very kind of you, Margaret,” Hugh replied warmly as the elderly woman closed the front door and shuffled down the hall to a small country kitchen.

  “Sit yourself down while I brew the tea.”

  “Thanks.” He pulled up a chair, resting his elbows on the wooden top of a small pine table, noticing the garden beyond. He then looked at the woman, thinking that she reminded him of his own mother. She was dressed simply. A black pair of slacks, dark slippers and a purple fleece jacket. Her hair was steely grey, tightly curled and neat, like the kitchen in which she stood.

  “Now then,” she said as she placed two mugs on the table along with milk and sugar. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here.”

  “Sure,” Hugh replied as he heaped two spoonsful of sugar into his mug along with a good glug of milk. “I’ve just been walking around the field at the back of your property. Not sure why. I guess I just wanted to try and see if the police had missed anything. And it looks like they have. Did they ask you about your CCTV cameras?”

  She considered the question as steam from her mug fogged her glasses. “No. I don’t think they did. Why?”

  “Because they may have asked to see the footage from the cameras. What kind of system is it? Does it record?”

  “Yes, it does. My son, David, installed it a few months ago. I was broken into last Christmas, and also earlier on this year when I was on holiday. I went to Bournemouth with a few of the ladies from the village. We try and get away a few times a year. I do enjoy my outings. Not much else going on really.”

  Hugh nodded, liking the woman’s take on things. “I don’t suppose you’ve checked the CCTV for the night of the disappearance?”

  “No, why would I?”

  “Because the camera at the rear of your house points directly into the field beyond. I know it’s a long shot, but there may be something of interest on your system. How do you view the images?”

  “On my computer. Something else that David installed. I know I’m an old duffer, but I quite enjoy using it. I like looking at family photos on Facebook. And I also do my grocery shopping online. I’ve never driven, so when my Robert died a few years ago, David installed the computer, so I could stay connected to the world. Buses around here are not the best y’see. Getting anywhere is a struggle.”

  “I’m sure it is, Margaret. Would you mind if I took a look at the CCTV footage?”

  “Do you think it will show anything?”

  “I honestly don’t know. But I am climbing the walls at home. No one is speaking to me. I am at my wit’s end.”

  “I bet you are. Do you have children?”

  “Yes, two boys, Oscar and Finn.”

  “How old are they?”

  “Six and two. They miss their Gemma terribly. It’s been really hard on them.”

  “Poor little mites,” she said, which made Hugh smile. She has more in common with Mum than I thought. “Well, once we’ve finished our tea, I will let you take a look for yourself.”

  “That’s great. I really appreciate this, Margaret. I know it will probably show nothing, but it’s worth a try.”

  A few minutes later, Hugh sat at the elderly woman’s computer, double-clicking on the CCTV icon on her home screen. A window appeared, which Hugh expanded so that it filled the screen. “I will leave you to it for a few minutes. I need to put a wash on.”

  “Okay, Margaret. I am sure I can work out how to rewind the footage.” She nodded, leaving Hugh hunched over the screen as he figured out how to travel back in time. “October 14th,” he said, smiling tightly as clear images from the rear camera filled the screen. He stopped the cursor at 19:00hrs, mentally playing the timeline over in his head. From the camera’s vantage point, Hugh caught the occasional glimpse of activity as heads passed by the gap in the hedge in sporadic fashion. He sat there, watching closely as the minutes played out in front of him.

  “Anything?” Margaret asked as she walked back into the spare bedroom.

  “Nothing of interest yet. The images are very clear though. Your son must have spent a fortune on this system. It’s very good.”

  “Well he’s doing rather well for himself down in London. I never asked him how much it cost.”

  Something caught Hugh’s eye on the screen. “There,” he said, noticing the time at the bottom right-hand corner. “Elven minutes past seven,” he said as a bright flash lit the screen. “Did you see that?”

  “I missed it. Can you go back?” the elderly woman said.

  “Hang on,” Hugh replied, winding the clock back a few seconds. A bright flash lit the screen, followed by blue lightning that echoed across the footage. “Oh my god!” Hugh said as a large shadow appeared on the other side of the hedge. It seemed to hover there for about a minute, before fading to nothing before their eyes. More flashes of lightning lit the screen before the footage returned to normal.

  “What do you think it is?”

  Wanting to sound guarded, Hugh offered a bland answer. “Not sure. Some kind of storm, which makes no sense to me, Margaret. What do you think?”

  “I have no idea. It certainly looks strange. Like those old Frankenstein movies in the ‘50s.” The phone in the hallway started to ring, disturbing the quiet cottage. “Hang on a tick,” she said, making her way out of the spare bedroom.

  Hugh pulled out his smartphone, selecting video before winding the clock back to the start of the unknown phenomena. He held the phone steady, videoing the CCTV footage, his mouth hanging open in amazement. This is unbelievable, he thought as Margaret’s voice filtered down the hallway towards him. This was no terrorist abduction. This was something else. Something otherworldly. Aliens. His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the old lady hanging up the phone. Quickly he stowed his own phone in his jacket pocket, trying to look nonchalant as she peered around the doorway. “Would you like another cup of tea?”

  “Erm, no thanks, Margaret. I have taken up enough of your time.”

  “It’s no trouble. What do you think happened to them?”

  Feeling guilty, Hugh came clean. “I honestly don’t know. I have recorded the footage, Margaret. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “Why would I mind. I would not have thought to check it myself. What are you going to do with what you’ve found?”

  “Honestly, I am thinking of going to the papers. I won’t mention where I got the footage from. Our secret is safe, I hope.”

  “It’s okay. If the police want to snoop through my system, they can. I have nothing to hide.”

  “Just do me a favour please, Margaret?”

  “Of course.”

  “Don’t mention this until I have looked into this further. Can you do that for me?”

  “But of course.
And thank you for coming to see me. At least I know that there are people in the village that are going through the same thing as me. I do hope they find Caroline. And the others too. Such a mystery. Like Tales of The Unexpected. Do you remember that?”

  “Can’t say that I do? When was that out?”

  “Oh, I can’t really remember. Many moons ago Hugh. Probably before you were born come to think of it.”

  “Well, it certainly looks like something from the X-Files.”

  “Yes. I have watched a few of them. Mouldy and Sully isn’t it?”

  Suppressing a laugh, Hugh nodded cheerfully. “Yes. Something like that. Anyway. I will be in touch, Margaret. Many thanks for your help. I really appreciate it.”

  “Oh, it’s not trouble, dear. It’s nice to have the company. I hope to hear from you soon.”

  A few minutes later Hugh was hot-footing it back home, his smartphone grasped tightly in his palm. No one knows anything? Bollocks. It’s a fucking cover up. Well, it’s time everyone saw the truth. Maybe then, something will be done.

  Twenty-Six

  Paul Lewis’ phone started to vibrate on his desk as he typed out an email. His eyes darted to the phone, a sinking feeling settling over him when he saw Hugh Andrews’ name flash in front of him. He let it ring, not wanting to speak to the man from Belbroughton. What can I tell him? We know nothing, apart from unconfirmed sightings of an unidentified object. The phone fell silent, Lewis breathing a sigh of relief as silence descended over the office. It was short-lived; the black gadget beeping twice, signalling an answerphone message. Fearing the worst, Paul dialled the number to retrieve the message, hitting the speakerphone icon on the glass screen.

  “Mr Lewis. It’s Mr Andrews. I’ve just discovered something very interesting. I really hope you’ve not been lying to me, and the rest of the village. I will give you thirty minutes to call me back. If not, I will go public. I don’t want to do this, but I am a desperate man.” The automated voice that followed gave Paul a list of options of what to do. He ended the call, his mouth dry, palms clammy. He was about to pick up the phone to call him back when it began ringing again.

  “Hi, hun,” he said, his voice edgy.

  “Hi. What time are you home tonight?”

  “Erm, not sure, why?”

  “I’ve got a class at seven. I won’t be home until nine.”

  “Okay,” he said tentatively, his stomach beginning to churn. “I will probably be home before you leave.”

  “Don’t rush. I know you’re busy Paul. I will see you when I get back. Bye for now.”

  He opened his mouth to reply, the line already dead. Paul sat there his insides in turmoil. Could it be happening again? he thought. Try as he might, he could not shake the feeling that all was not well in his marriage once again. He stared out of the window for minutes, not really seeing anything as his fingers drummed on the white desk. An idea came to him. One that he tried to push back into the recesses of his mind. It’s snooping. I should just trust her, he thought. Shit, okay, just a quick look, just to make sure, he decided as he clicked on his internet browser. He opened Facebook, entering his wife’s username and password. Details that she thought were safe. But Paul was one step ahead as he punched enter. Her page appeared, a few notifications highlighted at the top of the screen. He decided against clicking on them, which may raise suspicion at his wife’s end. Instead, he clicked on the messenger icon, a drop-down box appearing on the screen before him. At the top was a message sent ten minutes previously from Steve, making Paul’s heart beat faster until he could practically hear it. He opened the message, scrolling up before he had a chance to read any of the content. After a few clicks of his mouse, the message came to its start, dated two days before. His eyes floated across the screen, looking at the small round icons that indicated the sender. Eventually, his eyes locked onto the start of the conversation. A conversation that would change everything.

  Hey.

  Hello. How are you?

  I’m okay, Steve. How are you?

  So so. Busy at the new gym.

  What’s it like?

  Not as nice as the old one. The scenery there was much better….

  Lol. You shouldn’t be looking at the scenery. You’re there to work!

  I know. It’s fine. It pays the mortgage. Claire – I miss you. X

  Paul felt a sickening feeling at the sight of the first kiss of the conversation. He loosened his tie, planting his elbows on the desk as his heart started thumping in his chest.

  We’re not allowed to miss each other x

  I know that. But I can’t help it, babe. I can’t stop thinking about you x

  I know. I think about you all the time too. Even though I shouldn’t. x

  How are things at home? X

  The same. Things are boring. Paul’s never here. I’m like the forgotten wife x

  That’s bad. You are gorgeous, Claire. Any man would want you. I want you. X

  Really? What about Jenna? X

  We’ve broken up. After what happened between us, we never recovered. I decided to call it quits. x

  Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Are you okay? X

  I think so. The last few months has made me realise what I want out of life. X

  And what’s that?”

  YOU, BABE x

  But we can’t. I’m married. I have to think of the boys. X

  Claire. They’re grown up. It’s time you started thinking about yourself for a change. X

  But the house? The mortgage. It would be such a mess. X

  Is that all that’s keeping you with him? A mortgage? X

  No. But it would be such an upheaval. Paul would not go nicely. He would make it difficult. X

  Wanker! He treats you like shit but would fight you all the way if you left him. Tosser! X

  Lol. I take it you’re not a fan? X

  No. He’s a prick. You’re a princess. You deserve to be happy. You deserve a man who treats you like you’re the only woman on Earth. Someone who takes you to bed, not to watch tele and read books. You need an alpha who gives you everything you need. Xx

  Tears fell from Paul’s face as he read the texts. He knew there and then that his marriage was over. He could see the way the conversation was heading.

  Well, you certainly knew how to deliver in the bedroom, Steve. That’s one memory that no one can take from me. X

  Nor me. The sight of you riding on top of me. How you pushed my head between your legs, craving my caress. I will always remember that babe. X

  Stop it. You’re making me wet. Xx

  Are you alone? X

  Yes, why? X

  I am too. At home. On my bed, stroking myself, thinking of you. X

  Oh god! X

  Where are you? X

  On the sofa at home. X

  A picture appeared on the screen that made bile rise in Paul’s throat. It was Steve’s erect cock, proudly protruding from his boxers, taunting him.

  This needs to be in your mouth, babe. Then, your tight pussy. X

  Oh god. I’m so wet, Steve. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. X

  Show me. X

  Another picture appeared on the screen, making Paul gasp in pain. It was a selfie of his wife’s most intimate place. A place that only he should see. Looking at it now, a deep anger flared inside him. He read the last few lines, seeing the plans that his adulterous wife and her lover had made for tonight. He felt sick, his heart hammering in his chest. His thoughts drifted to his boys. Young and innocent in all this, who would undoubtedly suffer as a result of this. He cursed aloud, slamming his open palm onto the desk as the door opened.

  “I’ve brought you a cup of coffee, Mr Lewis.” She stopped in her tracks, seeing the look of desolation on her boss’s face. “Shall I come back later? Are you okay, Paul?”

  Paul Lewis was a proud man. He was not overly emotional, nor did he show his feelings, except in certain circumstances. However, his resolve was crumbling, as was the life around him. �
�No, Sylvia. I’m not. My wife. She’s,” he paused, trying to steady his shaky voice. “She’s started up the affair she’d had a few months ago. I have just found proof.” He lowered his head as the woman padded across the office towards him, placing the mug on the dark coaster in front of him.

  “Oh, Paul. I am so sorry to hear that,” she said as she perched herself on the desk next to him. The woman reached across, squeezing his hand, noticing the messages on the screen. She turned her head away, not wanting to pry as she walked over to the window. Sylvia turned, wondering what to say for the best. “I know how you feel, Paul. My ex did pretty much the same to me last year. I thought I was going crazy, until I found him out, pretty much the same way that you have. I was made to feel like this was all my fault. That I was to blame. I really am sorry. For what it’s worth, she must have rocks in her head. You’re a lovely man, good looking too. Why would any woman not think that was enough?”