“Well, I suppose he did drop, just not the way you thought.”
“Don’t be so flippant, Gemma, that must have been awful for your cousin.”
“Yeah, that’s why she went to your Aunt, apparently she really helped her come to terms with it, but we still don’t talk about it. Your farm house is supposed to be haunted you know, that’s what got your Aunt into it.”
Jess was not finding the conversation so funny anymore. She began to think about the dreams and the feelings she had been having in the house. If it was haunted, maybe it was not Olivia after all. She could feel a chill run through her.
“Are you all right, Jess?” Gemma was concerned. She didn’t think it was possible to get any paler but Jess seemed to be doing it.
“Yes. You know, Gemma. I’ve never really told you why we moved here. You’re my closest friend.”
“Hey, I thought I was your best friend. I know I’m your only friend.” Gemma said laughing. “Anyway. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Jess thought for a moment how could she explain to Gemma the closeness of her friendship with Olivia. They were more like sisters than friends. Constantly staying over at each other’s house. Going everywhere together, telling each other everything, every secret. Olivia’s mother had filled some of the gap when Jess’s own mother had died. And Olivia had gone through it all with her. Friends since the first day at nursery. Jess had been so quiet and shy, and Olivia, so out going and confident. And as they grew up, Jess was more reserved, Olivia was vibrant and so full of life. Jess had not only felt guilty at her loss, but she felt as though she had lost part of herself, the fun part, the outgoing part, the nice part.
Jess drew in a deep breath. “The night before Olivia disappeared she had been at my house. My Dad had a party for his birthday, just a couple of friends round, nothing fancy. Olivia had to go home that night, but we arranged to meet the next morning at the bus stop to do some Christmas shopping. It was a Saturday and we planned to get the early bus in to the city centre. Olivia didn’t want to go because it had been snowing and it was freezing. She hated the cold. But she did it for me. I left the house to meet her, when I got to the bus stop Olivia wasn’t there. I waited.”
Jess went on to tell her how she had called her house and before long it was established that Olivia was missing. Most of it from there on was blurry to Jess. She recalled her Dad being questioned over and over, not being allowed on the case because he knew her. She knew he had looked into it himself, unofficially. But he had no more luck than the officers investigating it. Olivia had simply disappeared off the face of the earth.
Gemma put her arm around her; comforting her friend. She had heard things about Jess, but she did not know the full story until now. Now Jess was telling her that she felt her friend was here with her in Coppersfield.
No wonder she’s looking so pale and tired, Gemma thought.
“Do you really think that Olivia is in your house?”
“Well, I did, until you said it was already haunted, before I came here.”
Gemma waved a hand at her. “That’s just stories; you always get them in places like this. We have nothing better to do with our time.” Gemma thought for a moment. “You know, Jess, if you think it is Olivia, why don’t we ask it?”
“What, are you joking?”
“No, why not ask your Aunt for the Ouija board?”
“No, she wouldn’t, my Dad would go mad, he doesn’t believe in any of that stuff.”
“What if I said I could get a hold of one?”
Jess thought for a moment contemplating what it would mean if she could contact Olivia; get the answers she so desperately needed. Tell her how sorry she was for making her go in to town that day. Then, she could hear her Dad’s voice, telling her there was no such thing as ghosts, or they would all solve there own crimes. If there is no such thing then there was nothing to be afraid of, if there was, then just maybe, she could speak to her friend.
“Can you?”
“I can by Tomorrow, can you get the morning off school? I could come round after your Dad goes to work.”
“He should be gone before 9am, come round just after that.” Jess smiled and hugged her. “Thanks, Gemma.”
*****
Jenny could feel the throbbing in her mouth. She gently slid her tongue over the raw socket that once held her back molars. She winced with the pain. Her tears felt warm on her cold skin as they ran down her face. She flicked her eyes around the darkened room, her head strapped too tightly for her to move it. She could not hear him; she could not sense him in the room. But she knew he would be back, he would come and go at irregular times making it impossible for her to measure how long she had been down here. She pulled weakly at the restraints on her wrist.
The panic in her stomach began to rise as she heard the footsteps fall on the stairs. He was coming back.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, she thought. He likes it when you cry. Go to a happy place. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
He had broken her, but a little spark of her determined nature, still remained. Deep down Jenny knew how this would end. She was only terrified of what pain he might inflict on her before then.
*****
Lee was just beginning to stir with the bright light flooding her bedroom. Her dreams were fading; just disjointed thoughts and an awful feeling of dread and hopelessness was all that remained. She reached over to turn the clock round.
“Good God. I’ve slept in.” Lee jumped out of bed and stopped suddenly. Her head was pounding, she felt positively sick.
She made a futile attempt at getting ready and then decided she would phone the tearoom and tell Elsie she was ill. She felt as though she had drunk a litre of wine. Her stomach was churning, her head banging. She could feel sweat breaking out on her forehead and neck as she tried to move around. A bottle of water and back to bed she thought. She gripped tight to the banister as she descended the stairs. The cold flagstone of the kitchen floor, for some reason improved her condition. She sat in the kitchen with the cool water for a moment her elbows bent and her forehead resting in her hands.
She had the sensation of being watched. She looked around her. Lee stood up and opened the back door. She stepped outside; the chill instantly cleared her head. The fresh crisp air seemed to stop the sweats. The longer she stood outside, the better she began to feel. She knew she couldn’t stand here all day, she went back inside and closed the door. A loud bang came from the kitchen. She looked around unable to see where it had come from. An uneasiness had settled over the still kitchen putting Lee on edge. She quickly walked through the kitchen and back upstairs. She would make work after all today.
*****
Lee arrived at the tearoom a little later than she was supposed to.
“Good morning, Elsie, is the boss in?”
“No, love. When is she ever in.” Elsie practically ran the tearoom. Opening up, closing up. Hiring and firing of staff. Sue Goyl, the owner, only came round to cash up and check the takings.
“Sorry, I left you to it.”
“Well, you’re here now, so don’t give it another thought.”
Elsie was at least pushing seventy. Lee always felt bad if she was left to deal with things on her own. Luckily, the tearoom had been just about deserted all morning.
“Make you a cuppa and you can have a rest from cleaning those shelves, Elsie. That’s not your job; you should tell her lady ship to get a cleaner in to do that sort of thing.”
“The devil makes work for idle hands, my love.”
Lee walked round and poured a cup of green for herself and decaf for Elsie. Elsie walked over to one of the freshly set tables and sat down.
“Oh, your right, it’s good to get off your feet. So what was wrong, were you ill this morning?”
“Thought I was.” Lee carried the cups over and picked up a couple of biscuits. “But it turned out to be nothing.”
“Didn’t sound like nothing when you called.
No like you to sleep in.”
“No, it’s not.” Lee shook her head. “It was the strangest thing, I felt ill when I first woke, but it cleared. Then I had a strong feeling that there was someone else there in the room with me. It felt, uncomfortable, unpleasant I think is the word.”
“I used to get that love, then after 40 years together he died.”
“Elsie!” Lee smiled as she put the tea down. “I’m only telling you because I know you don’t normally make fun of this type of thing.”
Elsie looked over the top of her horn rim glasses. “How could I make fun of it? My mother visits me more now than she did when she was alive. So what happened?”
“It wasn’t much, just an awful sensation. I felt positively ill, but I could feel someone there.”
“Maybe someone is popping in to say hello.” The small bell range above the glass door as an older gentleman walked in.
“Usual, Elsie, when you’ve got a minute, love.”
Lee stood up. “You have a break, Elsie. Coming up, Jim.”
*****
Tom headed back to the station to see Danny. He thought he had better tell him that he was going to look into the Angela Harrison case after all. Plus he could gain access to the police main frame from the station. Danny logged him on and left to go on his rounds.
Tom checked through Angela’s case, and then the three other girls.
Susanna Wheeling had been working at the Arrochar hotel as a barmaid. She disappeared after her shift in 1968. She rented a bungalow a few minutes walk from the hotel, which she shared with two other women.
Tom knew he would have to track down her flat mates. The fact that forty-five years had passed would be difficult.
He sipped at his bitter coffee as he went through the usual steps of locating someone. First, he checked for a criminal record for the flat mates, then DMV. No criminal record, but both had current driving licences. One lived in Dorset, the other had settled in Arrochar. Tom picked up the phone to call her. After a few moments, the voice of Valerie Grey was on the other end. She paused for a moment at the mention of her old flat mate, Susanna Wheeling. However, she did agree to an interview.
The only road out of Coppersfield was treacherous for the less experienced driver. After you crossed the small brick bridge to leave the High Street, you were on a single-track road with turning points placed at spaced intervals. At the top where Coppersfield was, the drop down the hillside was easily a couple of hundred feet. The road wound down the cliff side with views over the lochs that could only be described has humbling. Snow poles followed the curve of the road, reminding drivers of how severe the weather could get up here. Sometimes the snow could lie three foot deep, completely cutting Coppersfield off from the rest of the world. Half way down, Tom could see another car, heading up the hillside. Pulling over at the first passing point to allow him to pass, the other driver, a local farmer, gave him a wave as he passed Tom. The only people on this road were either going to or coming from Coppersfield. There was nowhere else to go on it. The only thing that worried Tom living here was the thought of Jess learning to drive. He didn’t like the idea of her commuting to and from university on this road. No matter how good a driver you were. It wasn’t the first driver that ended at the bottom of ‘Miners Drop’. Tom reached the junction at the bottom of the hillside and the road opened up into something much more civilised. After the ten minute drive from the hilltop, Arrochar was only another fifteen minutes away.
The village of Arrochar was eye catching. It was built on the banks of Loch Long, affording its residents a spectacular view across the water to the untouched hills and mountains beyond. The calm water of the loch, belied the treachery that lay beneath its smooth indigo surface. Tom parked his Jeep and stopped to admire the majestic colours of the heather, that slipped down the hill side to compete with the beauty of the loch below. It occurred to him, that it would be easy to make someone disappear in a place like this, even somewhere as beautiful as Arrochar, could hold many dark secrets.
He headed passed the hotel and veered left up a winding hill with large villas on either side of the road, the pavement lined with trees, offering some shade from the bright winter sun. Turning right at the top of the hill, he came to a row of cottages, very traditional, with the climbing rose over the gate, and the small attic windows peeking out from a red tiled roof. As Tom got out of his car, all he could hear were the sounds of birds singing from the hedgerow at the other side of the road. He passed two cottages, the third being Mrs McKenzie’s. The girl who used to share a flat with Susanna Wheeling.
Tom rang the doorbell and a tall woman in her late sixties answered the door.
“Mrs McKenzie? I’m Tom Hunter.”
Tom offered his outstretched hand. The woman shook it and invited him in.
“I’m Valerie McKenzie, used to be Grey before I married. I’ve made a pot of tea.” The woman led him up a small narrow hallway, Tom ducked as he entered a low-ceilinged, but large kitchen. He accepted a cup of tea, wishing it had been coffee and sat at the kitchen table.
“I don’t know what I can tell you, Mr Hunter, this was a very long time ago, and my memory isn’t what it used to be.” The woman was very polite and well spoken.
Tom did not believe there could be much wrong with her memory; he sensed a certain intelligence and fitness about the woman despite her years.
“Call me Tom. I’m just looking for you to go over what you remember about the days leading up to Susanna’s disappearance.”
“Well, Tom, you can call me Val, now I told the last officer all I could remember, is it not on record?” Tom puzzled over who the last officer could possible be. There hadn’t been any investigation on her file since 1970, at which point they had deemed the case was cold and had no new leads to investigate.
“It was the young man from your village. He was the policeman up there a while back. He came down to see me about a year ago asking all the same questions. Anyway, I told him that none of us had noticed that Sue had gone. It wasn’t until her boss called the following evening to say she hadn’t arrived for her back shift that we began to worry. After the police came we noticed a small suit case was missing from her room and it was widely believed that she had gone off for a weekend with someone.”
“Was that all that was missing.”
“As far as we could determine.”
“What made you think she would have just gone off with someone for a weekend? Did she do things like that often?”
“Good grief, no. Sue may have worked in a bar, but she was really a very quiet girl. The last few weeks she had been a bit secretive; we had joked with her that she had a fancy man, you know. She never denied it, nor did she tell us anything about him. We never saw her with him. But when we noticed the small case gone, we suspected that maybe he was married or prominent in some way and they had gone off in secret. When she never returned ... Well, I had always hoped they had run off and got married and were living a happy life somewhere. But I suppose in light of what the officer found, that seems highly improbable.”
Tom’s ears pricked up. “What did the officer find?”
Valerie looked over the brim of her teacup. “You don’t know?”
“There seems to be some information missing from the file I have.”
Valerie rose from her seat. “Can I ask to see your identification again please?” Tom fished his warrant card out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“I can assure you, Val, I am a police officer.” He said, putting on his most charming and trustworthy smile. The woman looked at the identification; she knew very well that she would not be able to tell a fake from the real thing, cautiously she handed it back to him.
“Can I ask, did you work at the bar as well?”
“No, I worked at the post office. That’s where I met my husband, he was in the army. He was home after a tour of duty in Northern Ireland. That was about two years after Sue disappeared, not long after we met, we were married. I’m s
orry, Mr Hunter, but I really can’t tell you any more than that.”
Tom put his cup down and thanked her for the tea. She led him up the same narrow hallway and opened the door. He could sense the woman’s discomfort.
“Oh, Mrs McKenzie, before I go, you never said what the last officer had found.”
Valerie paused for a moment as if sizing him up. Obviously, she decided now that he was outside her front door she could let her guard back down.
“I’m sure you could ask your predecessor about it; he found a picture of her with an older man. He believed it had been taken the night she disappeared.” Her voice became a little more sombre as she added, “He said he thought the man in the picture with her was a killer.”
The woman stepped back in and closed the door. Tom knew that he could never ask his predecessor. He had been dead for a little over a year.
Tom wandered down to the hotel. The business had changed hands many times over the years and no one there knew Susanna Wheeling. He crossed over the road and walked down a small lane to the cottage that Susanna had rented. It was unremarkable. Directly across from the cottage was a small grocer. An old man sat outside reading a paper. He was wrapped in a coat, scarf and hat.
“Excuse me, can I ask, have you stayed round here long?”
The old man looked up and turned slightly in his chair. “All ma life.”
“Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”
“Copper are you?”
“That obvious?” Tom smiled. “I am, I hope you wont hold it against me.” he joked. The man said nothing. “I’m looking for information on a young woman that lived here about forty-five years ago.” Tom pulled the picture of Susanna from his pocket and handed it to the old man.
The old man ran his twig like fingers across the picture. “Suzie,” he whispered.
“You know this woman?”
The old man did not look up. “She was my friend. A lovely girl she was. So sweet.”
“Were you close?”
The old man looked up and handed the picture back. “Not in the way you think. We were just friends. When she vanished, the police said she had run off with some man. But Suzie wasn’t like that. But they didn’t want to know.”
Echoes of the Past Page 4