by Lucy Daniels
Where to look first, she wondered? Was there any chance Jack could have found his way here without her noticing? She walked along the drive and turned up the lane, peering over the gate into the paddock. There was no sign of Jack in the donkey field. Pulling her mobile from her pocket, she dialled the Animal Ark number.
‘Helen,’ she said, when the nurse answered the call, ‘could you have a quick look in the donkey shelter and the far side of the rescue centre, please? Give me a shout if you find him.’
‘Will do.’ The phone went dead. Helen never wasted any time.
Mandy was alone in the lane. The tarmac was blanketed in snow, and there were no footprints, no tyre tracks. No indication anyone had been this way at all.
She would walk up the lane away from the village, Mandy decided. She could see if anyone from the outlying cottages had seen him. Twenty minutes later, she had drawn a blank. Gran and Grandad were away visiting friends overnight. There was no way they would come back until the weather had cleared. There had been no reply in Jasmine Cottage and Mrs Jackson, who answered the door of Rose Cottage, had not seen him. Mandy had spent a couple of wasted minutes convincing Mrs Jackson, who was suffering from a heavy cold, to go inside and get back to bed. Further up the lane, she could see Manor Farm in the distance. She would walk as far as the gate that led onto the fell. If the gate was closed, she would retrace her steps and search on the other side of Main Street.
Despite being fit, it was tough going through the drifts. Though she was wearing walking boots and gaiters, in some areas the snow was so deep it came up to her knees, clinging to her legs like a dead weight. Mandy started sweating inside her heavy coat, and she pushed lank pieces of hair out of her eyes. The lane was eerily silent apart from the sound of her breathing. She stopped in the shelter of the hedge to stamp the snow off her gaiters, and realised that the flakes, which had been falling thick and fast, had slowed. A few wisps hung in the air, but the dense clouds had lifted, revealing the distant peaks against a pale sky. Mandy loved the fells in every season. She loved their space and the sense of freedom they gave her. In the snow, they had a beautiful austerity. But today they seemed threatening. A vast empty wilderness. If Jack was out there, how would they ever find him?
Mandy was almost at the gate to the main path. Another few steps and she would be there. It seemed to be closed, but she decided to go right up to check.
As she reached the gate, she saw something that chilled her to the bone. There, caught in the hedge, almost but not completely covered by snow, hung a small blue mitten. Pictures filled her mind: Jack Collins, standing in the paddock playing with two baby donkeys. Jack, with his sweet red wellingtons and woolly blue mittens, talking about reindeer. ‘Do you think they might be out on the moor, Mummy?’ Mandy felt sick.
She decided to do what she should have done right at the start, when Susan first showed up. She would phone Jimmy: call out the mountain rescue team and their dogs. If Jack had any chance of survival, it was down to them. Her fingers shaking, she dragged off her right glove and pulled her mobile from her pocket.
Jimmy answered the phone at once. ‘Mandy?’ His voice sounded the same as ever.
‘Hi Jimmy. I’m calling for Susan Collins.’ Mandy spoke as clearly as she could, convinced Jimmy would hear her heart thudding. ‘Her three-year-old son Jack has gone missing. I’ve found one of his gloves at the moor gate. The one that leads off from Manor Farm Lane.’
‘The moor gate on Manor Farm Lane.’ He repeated the words back to her, loud and clear.
‘We need the mountain rescue team,’ Mandy stated. ‘Can you come?’
‘I’ll call the others.’ Jimmy’s voice was reassuring. ‘Jared Boone is helping with an accident on Walton Road. They’ll join us as soon as possible. Are you still at the gate? I’ll come straight there.’ He rang off.
Mandy stood for a moment, the phone in her hand. Jimmy was on his way. Despite everything that had happened, she felt a sense of relief. Jimmy had sounded so calm and organised. If anyone could find Jack, it was him. She looked again at the tiny glove. She could make a start by opening the gate. It was a barred wooden gate which rested on the ground due to old hinges and rain-swollen spars. Not easy to open, even in summer. If Jack had come this way, he must have climbed it. Standing right beside it, Mandy peered over and studied the ground. Was there a slight indentation where little wellies might have landed? Regardless, the gate would be better opened for the dogs to go through safely. Unhooking the string that was looped around the post at the end, Mandy tried to shove the gate open, but it wouldn’t budge. Climbing over, she began to kick the thick snow out of the way. By the time she had the gate open far enough to admit a dog, Jimmy’s Jeep was coming up the lane. Climbing out, he grabbed a rucksack from the seat beside him then went round to unclip the dogs.
‘Thanks for coming,’ she said. How good it was to see him and he smiled his old smile for a moment as the dogs rushed over to greet her. Zoe, his husky and Simba, his German Shepherd, trotted at his heels, each wearing a bright orange waterproof jacket bearing the mountain rescue logo.
‘What was it you found?’ Jimmy wasted no time with unnecessary chat, but his voice was kind.
‘His mitten is on the bush there.’ Mandy pointed. ‘I didn’t touch it.’
Jimmy went over and pulled the mitten down. He offered it to Zoe to sniff. ‘It’s a bit of a long shot,’ he said to Mandy. ‘Too much snow, but Zoe’s a good trailing dog.’ Zoe pricked her beautiful silver ears as she sniffed at the tiny mitten. Jimmy had her on a halter. Once she had inhaled the scent of the mitten, Zoe put her nose to the surface of the snow, searching for the trail. She cast about, turning her body this way and that, but she didn’t seem to be having much success.
In contrast to Zoe, Simba was not on a lead. ‘Go on, Simba,’ Jimmy urged. ‘Simba’s trained to air-scent,’ he explained. ‘She’ll home in on any human scent she can detect.’
Suddenly Simba slipped through the open gate and started to plunge into the snow. Her tail left a faint line behind her, and her long legs made light work of the drifts. Unlike Zoe, whose nose was to the ground, Simba’s head was at normal height. She zig-zagged up the fellside, a slim black and brown shape in her high-viz coat. Mandy marvelled at the ability of a dog to pick up scent molecules from the air.
Following the dogs, Mandy and Jimmy ploughed up the path, pausing frequently to call Jack’s name into the echoing whiteness. Every time they stood still, straining to listen, but there was no reply.
The trail led across the shoulder of the fell, plunging into drifts and climbing slopes that were almost sheer. It was heavy going and Mandy could feel herself turning scarlet, but there was no way she was going to slow down. Beside her, she could hear Jimmy breathing hard but his face was determined and his eyes were fixed on Simba as if he was sending her on with the strength of his will.
Simba stayed ahead of them, barely slowed by the deepest drifts. Zoe ran a few paces behind, nose to the ground, occasionally circling around as if Jack had lost his way for a moment. That’s if we have picked up Jack’s trail, Mandy thought grimly. The scent on the mitten would have been very faint after being left in the wet hedge, and how much could Zoe detect from the ground when it was buried by snow?
While she was pondering, Mandy suddenly lost her footing and landed waist-deep in a hidden cleft. Jimmy grabbed her wrist, then took her hand helping her gently back to her feet. His green eyes met hers, and she was conscious of the closeness of his warm, solid body.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
Breathless, Mandy nodded. Jimmy released her hand and turned back to the trail. Simba had disappeared into a spiky copse of bare trees. Mandy peered between the trunks, then suddenly Simba was back, running straight towards them, ears pricked, tongue lolling out. She raced to Jimmy and barked twice.
‘Show me,’ Jimmy told her, and the beautiful Shepherd turned and began to hurtle back up towards the trees. ‘She’s found something,’ Jimmy p
anted to Mandy as side by side they rushed up the hill.
By the time they reached the trees, Simba was lying beside a large snow-covered rock, overhung by a stunted birch tree. As Mandy approached, a cleft opened up between the rock and the gnarled silver trunk. The hole was squarish and lined with crumbling timber, and Mandy guessed it had once been the entrance to an old mine. Oh god, Jack. What have you done?
‘Show me?’ Jimmy spoke again to Simba, who barked just once.
‘Someone’s down there,’ Jimmy told Mandy. ‘Can’t be sure it’s Jack, but we’re going to have to take a look.’ Removing his backpack, he pulled out a torch. Mandy stared down at the gap in the snow in alarm. The edges of the hole were uneven and treacherous. It was impossible to see where the rocks were solid and where the snow had formed a fragile overhang with nothing underneath.
Seemingly oblivious to the cold, Jimmy lay down, shining the powerful torch into the abyss.
‘Looks like an old mineshaft.’ He twisted his head to look up at Mandy. ‘I thought I knew where all of them were on this part of the fell, but I didn’t know about this one.’
‘So what do we do?’ Mandy was starting to feel strangely numb, as if this was all just a dream and any minute now she and Jimmy would plunge into the hole like Alice in Wonderland. She lay down beside Jimmy, sinking into the snow. The freezing chill stung, whisking her back to reality. If she was cold, what must it be like for whoever was in the hole? And how far down did it reach? Had Jack fallen?
‘We can’t wait for the rest of the team,’ Jimmy said, flicking off the torch, rolling over and standing up. ‘I’m going to have to go in.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jimmy opened his rucksack and pulled out a coil of rope. Tying one end around the thickest part of the birch tree, he stepped into an abseiling harness, then clipped himself on to the rope. He wrapped a second length of cord around the tree and handed one end of it to Mandy before snapping the other end onto his harness. ‘Let this out as I go down,’ he told her. ‘When I need you to pull, I’ll shout. If it’s Jack, you might have to pull him up on his own. I’ll try to guide him, but it depends on the climb.’
Lying on her front, Mandy wedged herself more deeply into the snow and took hold of the rope as Jimmy shuffled backwards to the edge of the hole. After a few false steps, when he dislodged chunks of snow without getting any purchase with his feet, he managed to wedge himself against the side wall. He sat back into the harness, letting the rope take his weight. Simba whined as she saw Jimmy disappearing. ‘It’s fine, Simba,’ he called to her. ‘Stay there.’ Simba lay down beside Mandy and Zoe joined her, resting her elegant face on Simba’s back. Mandy was glad of their company and the warmth she could feel radiating from them.
‘Can you try and give me some light?’ Jimmy called as he started to lower himself into the mineshaft. Mandy let out the rope with one hand and tried to hold the torch steady in the other. The cold ground was pressing into her stomach. Snow was falling again. She could feel it landing on her neck. Flakes drifted into the shaft, twisting and turning in the torchlight. Trying not to shiver as the cold bit deeper, Mandy watched the top of Jimmy’s head inch down. Sounds drifted up to her: the scrape of his boots on the side wall, an occasional clatter of falling pebbles. Then finally, the crunching of feet on gravel, and Jimmy’s voice, like an echo. ‘He’s here.’
Mandy held her breath. Here and alive? Her ears strained, but there were only scraping sounds and light tugs on the rope: movement, but no voices.
‘Now PULL!’ When the yell came, Mandy felt a sense of panic. How could she hold the torch and haul in the line at the same time? It wasn’t possible. She needed to brace herself and use two hands on the rope. Jimmy would have to be in the dark for now. She hoped enough daylight would shine down the shaft to allow him to see a little. Flipping onto her back, she braced her feet against the birch tree. Somewhere behind her, she could hear Jimmy climbing up the shaft, even faster than he had descended. Mandy half hauled herself up the rope, half reeled it in. Unseen, shrouded in darkness, Jimmy was bringing Jack up from the depths.
‘Mandy.’ When his voice sounded close beside her, she almost let go of the rope. Wrapping it around her left hand, she flipped over to see him staring at her over the edge of the shaft. His eyes were wide and his face etched with strain.
‘Can you take him?’ Jimmy managed through clenched teeth.
Gripping the rope so tightly it burned her palm through her gloves, Mandy edged closer to the hole. Jack was curled in Jimmy’s arms. His face was deathly pale, but as Mandy watched, his eyelids fluttered. He was alive.
Breathless, Mandy knelt on the ground, reached down, and wrapped her right arm around the sleepy-eyed toddler. Alive he may be, but as she felt his skin, she was shocked at how cold he was. Shuffling backwards, she lifted him clear of the hole. A moment later, Jimmy was beside her, coiling up the two ropes, repacking his bag.
Mandy cradled Jack in her arms. He was heavy, but she should be able to carry him. Opening her jacket, she hugged the little body close to hers and wrapped her arms as far round him as she could. Jimmy nodded his approval, adding an extra layer in the form of a foil blanket from his bag, which he laid around her shoulders, tucking it in around the small boy in her arms. Pulling his mobile from his pocket, he called Susan and asked her to arrange for an ambulance crew to meet them. Then calling the dogs, they set off.
It was snowing again in earnest as they made their way back down the hill. Jimmy walked in front of Mandy while she was carrying Jack. When she began to stumble under the weight, Jimmy took the boy into his own arms, tucking the small body into his jacket as Mandy had done before him. His face was grave as he looked down at the little white face and he doubled his pace, moving so quickly it was all Mandy could do to keep up through the deep snow.
By the time they reached the lane, it was full of people. The mountain rescue Land Rover was there, with a paramedic crew. Jack was lifted from Jimmy’s arms by a female paramedic dressed in red overalls, her brown hair tucked into a fleece cap. ‘We’ll take it from here,’ she said. ‘The ambulance is down in the village so mountain rescue gave us a lift.’ Her voice and face were reassuring.
There was a commotion among the knot of people and Susan broke through, her face crumpling when she saw Jack. She bent over her son as the paramedic cradled him, her long hair falling over Jack’s face. Mandy felt a lump in her throat and tears prick her eyes.
Susan looked up. ‘You found him,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you. Thank you.’
‘Simba found him,’ Mandy managed to say. ‘And Jimmy rescued him.’
The paramedic started to carry Jack towards the Land Rover. ‘Come on,’ she said gently to Susan. ‘Let’s get this little chap to hospital for a check up.’
As the Land Rover drove away, Mandy suddenly felt weak and shivery. Exhaustion and cold were beginning to catch up. Someone took her arm, and Mandy realised it was Gemma Moss. ‘Come on, hero,’ Gemma said with a smile. ‘Can you walk back, or shall we wait for Luke?’
‘I can walk,’ Mandy said, forcing her feet to move. She looked around for Jimmy, but he was several metres away, tending to the dogs. As she watched, he stood up and looked round as if searching for her. He took a step in her direction, but then Luke, appeared, taking hold of her other arm, and he and Gemma steered her down through the crushed snow towards the village. For a moment, she though that Jimmy would come to her still, but then Gary Parsons from the Fox and Goose appeared. Then Jimmy too was walking among his own band of human props. She watched his head bob with each step, a shade taller than his helpers. She wanted so badly to feel his arms around her. Her head was spinning with weariness, and she was dimly aware of people chattering around her.
‘Such a relief.’ ‘Hats off to Mandy.’ ‘Thank goodness.’ ‘Wonderful dogs.’ Mandy wanted to put her hands over her ears. The only voice she wanted to hear was Jimmy’s, but he might as well have been on the moon.
Suddenly they
were back in the village. They must have walked straight past Animal Ark, Mandy realised. She hoped someone had let Helen and her parents know that Jack had been found. The Christmas tree on the green was smothered in lights and swathed in snow. Although it was only early afternoon, the lantern above the entrance to the Fox and Goose was lit, adding a Victorian charm to the Christmassy scene. Mandy found herself carried into the pub on a wave of humanity. The fire was burning brightly, stinging her cheeks and making her blink. She realised she was perched on a chair right by the fireplace. Her fingers were painful. They had been numb, but when she pulled off her wet gloves, they turned red and started to swell.
‘Mulled wine all round,’ announced Bev. Someone called, ‘One over here for Mandy.’
A warm glass of red wine was pressed into her hand, wafting the scent of cinnamon and cloves. Mandy took a mouthful and felt the liquid warmth slide down inside her. Beside her, the coals shifted, sending sparks up the chimney. Mandy lifted her head and looked around.
The bar was full. There were people at every table. Half the village must have turned out to look for Jack and most of them had ended up here. There was Brandon. Rachel was with him. Gemma and Luke had ended up on the far side of the room. They were talking to Jimmy, Mandy realised. She felt as if she was hemmed in by the fire, toasting like a marshmallow. With a stab of unease, she noticed that Geoff Hemmings was on the other side of the fireplace. He glanced at her, then turned to talk to a bearded man she didn’t recognise. Were they talking about Hope Meadows? Now the other man was looking over at her. The tense feeling that had filled Mandy for days returned with a vengeance.
Somewhere near the window, an older lady dressed in hiking trousers and an Icelandic sweater was tapping her glass. As the room fell silent, she held up her phone.