The Overlooker

by Fay Sampson

  She wriggled down under the bedclothes. As Nick got in beside her she said, ‘There’s something else. He’s in and out of this house all the time. He must know more about our movements than anyone else in this town. What if the phone calls have nothing to do with Hugh Street? What if it’s just because you’re a soft southerner with an architect’s practice and a nice car?’

  She snapped off the light. Nick lay in the darkness staring up at the faint glimmer of the ceiling. Could she be right? Had he allowed himself to be obsessed with anxiety for nothing?

  Then he rolled over and said quietly against her back, ‘You’re forgetting something. That first phone call told us not to go to the police. Why would Geoffrey do that?’

  FIFTEEN

  Nick stretched and yawned. He was standing at the window in his pyjamas. Sunlight was already gilding the crags above him. He had a feeling that there was something special about today. He struggled to remember what it was.

  Tom! At last. This was the day when they would meet up with their eighteen-year-old son. It was a month since they had waved him off to university on the train. Nick had offered to drive him, but Tom had insisted that he didn’t want to be taken there in his parent’s car. Even as he gave him a last hug, Nick had known that his son was putting down a marker. He was leaving home.

  But today he could push that thought behind him. Tom would catch a local train after his last lecture of the week. He would meet the rest of the family in the hospital foyer. They would have the weekend together, while Nick took pride in showing the next generation to carry the Fewings name what he had discovered about his family.

  The pleasure lasted only a few moments before reality caught up with his sleepy brain.

  Someone was threatening to harm his family.

  He turned to see Suzie’s sleep-softened face just coming round into wakefulness. Already he could feel the tightening in his throat. If the threat was real, and not just phone-bullying, how could he keep them safe?

  As Suzie opened her eyes, he thought about her theory that it might have been nothing to do with Hugh Street. That the caller was Geoffrey Banks, bitter against a world that had thrown him on the scrapheap, and wanting to get his own back on a successful architect from the south. But even if she was right, Geoffrey wouldn’t really hurt the Fewings, would he?

  He shivered a little, and made for the bathroom to shower. Whatever was going on, he would keep a close eye on his family.

  ‘We’re taking you out to supper tonight,’ Nick told Thelma at breakfast. ‘And you needn’t bother rushing home to get lunch for us. I don’t know what we’re doing this morning yet, but we’ll get our own.’

  ‘It’s no trouble. I’ve been coming home to cook something for Dad ever since he retired. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I stayed in town.’

  ‘Go shopping?’ said Millie hopefully. ‘That’s what I want to do this morning.’

  Suzie sighed. ‘Love, we’ve got the same sort of shops back home. We don’t want to waste a whole morning on that, when we’ve got this once-only chance to find out as much about Dad’s ancestors as we can. Your ancestors,’ she corrected herself.

  ‘It may surprise you to know that there are some people in this world who are not nuts about genealogy.’

  ‘You were interested in Millie Bootle, scavenging under the machines. And Esther Fewings, shoving the bailiff’s writ down his collar. And anyway, we shan’t be able to stay all afternoon with Uncle Martin. Why don’t we go down into town after that?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Millie muttered reluctantly.

  ‘Right!’ Nick exclaimed with a show of brightness, as he and Suzie readied themselves for the day. ‘Briershaw Chapel. Where all those Fewings brothers with biblical names lived, before the family moved into town.’

  ‘And Esther,’ Suzie reminded him. ‘The firebrand who had a run-in with the bailiffs.’

  ‘Whatever Millie may say, I think she’s taken to Esther as a role model.’

  ‘How far is it?’

  ‘Not too far. About ten miles at a guess. We’ll be back in time for lunch.’

  ‘I know it seems a lot of work for Thelma to come home and cook it, but, honestly, I think she needs it. Someone to look after, I mean. She’s missing her father more than she lets on.’

  ‘Right, then. After you.’

  Suzie went ahead of him down the stairs. She walked out on to the gravelled drive.

  Geoffrey Banks was bending over as if to inspect the Fewings’ car.

  Nick’s first instinct of shock was overtaken by Suzie’s reaction. He was startled by the speed with which she hurled herself across the drive to confront him. Yesterday, she had been embarrassed by his verbal onslaught on the Reverend Redfern. She had no such inhibitions now.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing? Get away from our car!’

  The scrawny chemist with the dirty yellowish hair backed away in alarm.

  Suzie’s flow of rage went on. ‘Isn’t it enough that you’ve been harassing Nick with phone messages practically ever since we’ve been here? Were you trying to sabotage our car as well? I’m very sorry you’re out of work, but it’s not our fault!’

  Nick was out on the drive behind her now. Geoffrey’s watery blue eyes were darting from one to the other.

  ‘Suzie!’ Nick said, trying to keep his voice reasonable. Despite the suspicions that chased each other round his mind, he could not believe that this rather pitiful figure had anything to do with it.

  Geoffrey had recovered from his initial shock. His eyes narrowed. He almost spat the words at Suzie.

  ‘He that trusteth in his riches shall fall, but the righteous shall flourish as a branch.’

  ‘Hang on,’ Nick protested. ‘It’s just a Mazda Six. It’s a nice car, but it’s not exactly the coronation coach.’

  Even as he spoke, his eyes went along the drive. For the first time he realized. There was no car parked outside Geoffrey’s house. Not even a battered old runabout. Was that something he had had to give up when the redundancy money ran out? Nick felt an uneasy squirm of conscience. His own car was not ostentatious, but it was almost new. Was that enough to explain the look of near hatred in those pale blue eyes?

  He moved protectively beside the car. Suzie couldn’t be right, could she? Could Geoffrey have been trying to tamper with the car in full of view of Thelma’s house?

  The man turned on him now. ‘The wicked in his pride doth persecute the poor; let them be taken in the devices that they have imagined.’

  ‘We haven’t imagined any devices,’ Suzie countered. ‘But you have.’

  Through the open door behind her, Thelma came hurrying out. She was dressed for work in a lime green suit. Her kindly face creased now with anxiety.

  ‘What’s up with you lot? I could hear voices from inside. Was that you, Suzie? Shouting at Geoffrey? And what’s got you all steamed up?’ she said to her older cousin.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Nick put in hurriedly. ‘Geoffrey was having a look at our car. It was just a misunderstanding.’

  Someone else had appeared on the doorstep behind Thelma. Millie’s small face looked mystified and, more than that, alarmed.

  ‘Would someone mind telling me just what’s going on?’

  Her eyes went accusingly from Nick to Suzie and back.

  Nick felt a sense of betrayal. Perhaps they should have told her more. But he could not explain it all now, especially in front of Thelma.

  ‘We’re going to Briershaw,’ he told his cousin. ‘We’ll be back for lunch. And then we’ll introduce the kids to Uncle Martin.’

  With Suzie and Millie on board, he put the car into neutral. He found he was oddly nervous. He had been quick to dismiss the idea that Geoffrey Banks could have done something to the car. But the man had been an industrial chemist. He probably understood more about the workings of a car than Nick did. He saw again the hatred in the watery blue eyes.

  He might even . . . There was a sudden catch in Nick’
s breath. But it was too late now. He had turned the key. The ignition fired. His mouth opened to yell at Suzie and Millie to get out.

  The engine settled to a steady purr. Nick relaxed somewhat. He had nearly made a fool of himself again. It was ridiculous to think of Geoffrey Banks, the disappointed chemist, making a car bomb in his garden shed. He was just a rather sad man whose life had been taken away from him.

  All the same, he drove rather more carefully than usual to the end of the drive. He negotiated an unexpected pedestrian on the corner and turned up the steep hill out of town.

  There was another moment when he tensed. As they crested the hill the road dropped down the dale in front of them. It wouldn’t need anything as dramatic as a car bomb. Just a severed brake cable. Too late now to test it. They were already heading down the long slope.

  He tried the brakes, cautiously. To his relief they responded. Suzie looked at him oddly as the car slowed.

  ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘No,’ he said, with what he found was a genuine cheerfulness. ‘Everything’s OK.’

  For the first time his eyes took in the broad sweep of the country in front of him. The massive hills, moulded over aeons into flat-topped fells with steep valleys cut by sparkling becks. Out here, too, the houses were solid stone, blackened by mill chimneys that had gone cold long ago. This was a tough country that bred tough folk. Not like the softer cob-and-thatch cottages of Suzie’s native south-west. He felt a slightly ridiculous surge of pride. He had, after all, never lived here.

  Millie’s accusing voice came from the back seat.

  ‘And just when are you two planning to tell me why you’re behaving like an over-the-top episode of Coronation Street, with everybody screaming at everyone else?’

  Nick and Suzie glanced at each other in alarm. Suzie recovered first. She turned round to Millie. He could hear the reassuring smile in her voice.

  ‘Sorry, love. I expect we’re just a bit edgy because of Great-uncle Martin. And then there was that funny business in Hugh Street, and having to go to the police. Dad’s been a bit worried that someone might try to get back at us because of that.’

  ‘Like how?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t mean they are. The police told us there was nothing for us to be alarmed about.’

  ‘So Dad goes and bawls out some Baptist minister and practically assaults some Asian woman and you were shouting your head off at that man next door. And you want me to think you’re not worried?’

  Nick cut into the conversation. ‘Look. I’m sorry if we’ve been over-cautious. Yes, I know I made a fool of myself with Mr Redfern yesterday. But let’s put it all behind us, shall we? It’s a glorious day. Fantastic scenery. And we’re taking you to see where Esther Fewings used to live. You know, the teenager who told the bailiffs what they could do with their summons.’

  ‘Oh, her. She was great.’

  ‘And this afternoon, we’re all meeting up with Tom.’

  In the rear-view mirror he glimpsed Millie throwing herself back against the seat. ‘Oh, yeah. Tom. Like the sun hasn’t shone since he left home.’

  ‘Millie!’ Suzie protested. ‘There’s no need to be like that. We shall miss you just as much when you leave home.’

  ‘Sez you.’

  She subsided into an offended silence.

  Teenagers, was Nick’s first exasperated thought. But it had diverted Millie’s attention from more difficult questions.

  He drove on. Sometimes, when the steep hillsides closed round them, shadows encased the dale. Nick’s satnav directed them off the main road into narrower lanes. Sheep grazed the fields on the other side of substantial stone walls.

  ‘You need to watch your steering here,’ he said, after he and another car had eased past each other with inches to spare. ‘In Devon you’d just scrape the hedge. But here it’s solid stone.’

  The country road was rising. They came round a bend and Briershaw Chapel rose in front of them. There was no mistaking it. There was no village here. Just a scatter of grey farms and houses among the sheep-dotted fields. But the tall gritstone building dominated the lane.

  Suzie jumped out as soon as Nick stopped the car.

  ‘Look at those big windows on the top floor. I bet there’s a gallery up there. And, look, there’s a date over the door –’ she went closer – ‘1760.’

  But Nick’s eyes were fixed on the two cars already parked outside the chapel.

  One was a blue Honda. He had last seen a car like that parked outside the Reverend Redfern’s house.

  SIXTEEN

  ‘Stay where you are,’ Nick ordered, as Millie started to open her door.

  He eased the car quietly along the road and parked further along in a splay under an elm tree. The car would not be hidden from the chapel, but it would be less obvious. In the first second, he had wondered about calling Suzie back and driving away. But she had opened the gate into the little graveyard and was wandering through the grass reading the headstones.

  The Reverend Harry Redfern was almost certainly inside.

  ‘Dad! What’s wrong with parking in front of the church? What’s got into you?’

  ‘There’s more shade here.’ He gave her what he hoped was an unconcerned smile.

  His mind was hammering. Why here? And how could he get here before we did? The blue car certainly hadn’t followed them today.

  Millie went through the cemetery gate ahead of him.

  ‘Hey! There are two sheep in here. They need to repair their wall.’

  Suzie looked up from the inscription she was reading. ‘I’ve an idea they’re meant to be here. They’re cheaper than a lawnmower and greener.’

  The turf was certainly cropped short around the graves.

  ‘Not much good putting an expensive bunch of flowers on your mother’s grave, is it?’ Millie was heading for the nearest sheep, which skipped away from her with surprising agility.

  Suzie looked at Nick’s face, worry in her hazel eyes.

  ‘You don’t have to tell me. You think it’s the same car, don’t you?’

  ‘I’m fairly sure. The number plate was something like that.’

  ‘But then we know who owns it. And he can’t possibly have anything to do with Hugh Street.’

  Then why is he here? And how did he know we were coming? How can he know so much about us?’

  She sighed. ‘He’s a Baptist minister and this is a Baptist church. You don’t think he might have a legitimate reason?’

  ‘OK. So you think I’m getting paranoid. But how about the way you flew off the handle with Geoffrey Banks?’

  She flushed. ‘I know. That was stupid. But he gets on my nerves. And then he was spouting that biblical stuff. And the last message on your mobile . . . Is it switched on?’

  He nodded. ‘Nothing since then.’

  ‘What are we going to do? I guess your Harry Redfern must be inside.’

  ‘I’d rather not meet him, after last time.’ He strode away from her and stopped. ‘I feel so helpless. As though somebody’s playing with me.’

  ‘I think the inspector’s right. Nothing’s really going to happen. Just words. It’s been two days now. What could he do?’

  ‘I wish I knew. All I’m sure of is that we need to stick together. That’s probably the reason nothing’s happened. Because he hasn’t been able to get one of us on our own.’

  They heard the sound of the door opening at the front of the church. Nick grabbed Suzie and pulled her to the back of the building, out of sight.

  Voices came suddenly loud on the clear air. A man’s and a woman’s.

  ‘I’ll see you on Sunday, then. Thanks for your help. God bless.’

  ‘It’s we who should be thanking you. It’s been difficult arranging communion services without a minister of our own.’

  Nick struggled with his aural memory. Was that Harry Redfern’s voice? He regretted now the impulse of panic that had made him hide. With a start he realized that Millie was still standing in the graveya
rd in full view.

  ‘I have to see,’ he hissed at Suzie.

  Cautiously he stole round the corner. He was just in time to see the rear view of a man getting into the Honda. Certainly on the large side. But he needed to see the man’s face to be sure.

  Too late. The engine sprang to life. The little car turned in the splay outside the chapel and sped off down the road. Now he would never be sure. Unless . . . The woman had not appeared. Had she gone back inside the chapel?

  Nick was just starting towards the front entrance, which was still hidden from him, when Millie’s voice hailed him from across the graves.

  ‘Dad! Come and look at this!’

  He paused, torn between two demands. Then he started across the cropped turf towards Millie.

  Her face was beaming with pride. ‘It’s them, isn’t it?’

  He looked at the gravestone she was pointing to.

  In loving memory of

  ENOCH FEWINGS

  of Briershaw Lane

  who died March 6th 1861

  aged 57 years

  also of HANNAH his wife who died

  at High Bank

  Feb 7th 1887 aged 77 years

  ‘It’s them, isn’t it?’ Millie cried. ‘That family who wrote the letters in the suitcase. And that’s Jephthah over there.’

  ‘High Bank.’ Suzie had joined them. ‘That’s where Thelma lives! So when Hannah was a widow, she moved into town where some of her sons had already gone. And the Fewings have been there ever since.’

  Suzie’s voice had the warmth of enthusiasm. But Nick felt the chill sadness of those words. Before much longer, Great-uncle Martin would die. Even if he recovered from this stroke, his time was running out. Thelma would be left alone. The last of the Fewings at High Bank, childless.

  There was only his own family to carry the name on.

  Tom.

  From across the graveyard they heard the sound of the heavy door shutting. Suzie turned and started towards the sound. But already they heard the second car starting. They were just in time to see it heading away.