Beneath the Shadows (24 page)

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Authors: Sara Foster

BOOK: Beneath the Shadows
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As Grace took the turning for Gilldale, a few early snow-flakes began to fall. Tall trees huddled either side of the road, their branches leaning over the car and dripping water onto the windscreen. Gilldale was a larger village than Roseby, but there was still nothing much to it except a row of houses set on a bend. As Grace pulled the car up at a T-junction, she had no idea where Riverview farm was, and not much spare time to find it. She looked in both directions, and then decided to turn towards Ockton.

Less than a mile later, she struck lucky. There was the sign, ‘Riverview', hanging from a steel gate, and a muddy track headed off through a field. Without a second thought, she took the turn, and the wheels began churning through the mud.

A small whitewashed house came into view a short time later. Grace stopped the car by the front door and climbed
out. Her head began to pound. What was she doing here? Why was she so compelled to keep searching for Adam? It seemed like she was going round and round in circles, all the while terrified of what she might uncover.

However, she wasn't given much time for second thoughts, as before she had even knocked the door swung open. A teenage girl stood there eyeing her uncertainly.

‘Sorry to trouble you,' Grace said. ‘I'm looking for the Templeton family.'

The girl shook her head. ‘We're the Wetherfields. Templetons ain't been here for years.'

‘Do you know where any of the family live now?'

‘No.' The girl looked genuinely sorry. ‘Mam and Dad might, but they've gone out.'

Grace looked around frantically. This was where Jonny had lived. It should reveal something to her, surely.

The girl began to look worried. ‘Are you all right?' she asked.

‘I'm not sure,' Grace admitted, running her fingers through her hair. ‘But I'm going now. Thanks for your help.'

The girl's eyes were wide and wary as she closed the door.

Grace drove the car back down the muddy track, having a disturbing flash of herself as the girl must have seen her: on edge, with bags under her eyes and unkempt hair, asking questions about people who hadn't lived there for years. A crazy woman. There was no longer any doubt that she needed to get away.

She felt deflated as she rejoined the tarmacked road. It took a long time to reach Ockton along the winding lanes, but gradually the road widened and houses began to appear
in unbroken rows. She followed Emma's directions to the church hall, and was greeted by Emma and her sister Sally, who couldn't stop thanking Grace for her generous contribution.

‘I've decided not to stay. Millie and I are going to London today,' Grace told them.

Emma flung her arms around Grace. ‘I understand, although I'm sad to see you go. I was looking forward to getting to know you better.'

Grace was touched by Emma's words, but they didn't change the fact that she couldn't wait to leave. She checked her watch as she returned to the car, horrified to realise that it was nearly two o'clock. She got in, started the engine and began to head out of town. As she drove along the main road, a few more specks of snow landed on her windscreen. She glanced up at the sky. It loomed close and grey.

She stopped at a service station and hurried inside in search of food to tide her over, finding only an unappetising-looking sandwich. As she came out again, a bitterly cold wind began to drive gusts of snow along the ground. She put her head down and pulled her mobile from her pocket to call Ben, tell him how she was getting on.

He didn't pick up his mobile, or the cottage phone. Unease prickled her skin as she got back behind the wheel.

Then her mobile rang in her hand. She looked at it in relief, expecting it to be Ben, but she didn't recognise the number, so answered with a hesitant ‘Hello?'

‘Grace? It's Niall. I've just been to your cottage, and the fella there said you'd gone to Ockton.'

Grace was immediately wary. ‘Have you found something?'

‘Perhaps,' Niall replied. ‘Where are you?'

‘I'm in Ockton, I was just heading back.'

‘Wait there. I'm driving over now. Meet me at the police station in ten minutes.'

He hung up before she could even ask what was going on. She felt herself trembling; his tone suggested he had uncovered something significant.

She had seen the police station on the main road through town, near the church. She swung the car round, reminding herself that she mustn't be long. But at least Niall had seen Ben, so he and Millie must be okay, even if Ben wasn't answering his phone.

As she drove, the snow fell steadily, her tyres slushing through a thin layer that had formed on the road. She discarded her sandwich, no longer hungry. The weather was making her nervous.

She pulled up in front of the police station. Niall wasn't there. She took out her phone, but there were no messages. She decided to try Ben again to tell him she would be delayed.

This time he answered straight away. ‘Are you all right, Grace? A policeman was here looking for you. Said he had some information he needed to pass on.' He sounded concerned.

‘Yes, I'm about to meet him – I don't know what he wants yet,' Grace replied. ‘How's Millie?'

‘She's still asleep. I hope you don't mind, but I've brought Bess inside as it's snowing quite a bit now. Don't be too long if you want to get out of here today.'

‘Don't worry,' she assured him. ‘I'll be back as soon as I can.' As she spoke, she looked in her rear-view mirror and
saw a car pulling up behind her. Niall climbed out. ‘He's here. I'll see you shortly.' She hung up.

Niall walked over to her door. ‘Now then, Grace,' he said as she opened it. ‘Thanks for meeting me. I wanted to have a word with you in person.'

‘What's going on?'

‘Let's get out of the snow for a minute while we have a chat,' he said. Then to her surprise he headed for the church rather than the police station.

Grace followed him, watching the snow beginning to coat his hair. As Niall held the gate open for her, she said to him, ‘Please, just tell me.'

Niall walked past her, beckoning her up the church path. When they got underneath the porch, he finally stopped and said, ‘Grace, I'm afraid I found Jonny here.'

Grace briefly imagined a man waiting inside the church, ready to talk to her – perhaps with news of Adam. Then, as she looked back at Niall, taking in his sober expression, it clicked.

‘He's dead.' Her voice was dull.

‘Yes,' Niall said, watching her carefully. ‘I thought it might be best for you to see for yourself.'

He moved out into the snow again and headed around the side of the church, treading on the patches of grass that grew in between the gravestones. Grace followed him, still trying to absorb the news.

Adam's father was dead?

Why hadn't she even considered that possibility?

Niall stopped at a low headstone. Grace focused on what was written there.

 

Jonathan Christopher Templeton
Born 2 May 1956
Died 11 October 2004
Beloved son of George and Dorothy, and
brother to Josephine
Rest in peace

 

Grace felt her whole body sag. She had been so sure that finding Jonny would lead to answers. She pictured Adam – unwittingly searching for a father who had passed away years before. She looked at Niall. ‘Do you know what happened?'

‘I've had a talk with his sister. He was in an accident in Australia. A car crash. Apparently his mam and dad have been dead for years, and the sister stayed behind in Ockton to get married when the rest of them went overseas. He had no other family, so her husband flew over and collected his ashes, brought him back to be buried here.'

‘Did you tell her about Adam?'

‘No, I asked a few questions, like, said her brother's name had come up in an investigation and I wanted to rule him out. She was ever so curious, as you'd imagine, but I haven't said any more for now. If you want to meet her then I'm sure something can be worked out. But that's up to you – and her, of course.' He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. ‘Looks like he'd done well for himself,' he said, handing it to her.

It was a photocopy of an Australian newspaper article, under the headline LOCAL PROFESSOR IN FATAL CRASH, featuring a headshot of a balding middle-aged man, gazing
to the right of the camera lens and smiling. Grace studied the picture, trying to take in the fact that this was Adam's father, searching for something in his features that would link them; but Adam had looked much more like his mother.

‘You can keep hold of that,' Niall said.

‘Thanks,' Grace replied, folding the sheet and putting it into her pocket before the snow ruined it. She looked at the gravestone again.

‘Are you all right?'

‘I'm wondering whether Adam knew about this.'

‘If he found out, that day in the library, do you think it could have affected his state of mind?' Niall asked gently.

Grace shook her head. ‘I would have seen it that evening, I'm sure of it …' Unless he found out the day he disappeared, while she was out shopping. If he had discovered anything in the library, he could have made some follow-up enquiries that afternoon. Was that what his note was about? Had his emotions overtaken him once he'd written it?

Why didn't you tell me what you were doing, Adam?

She bit her lip to stem her distress.

Niall patted her shoulder. ‘I'm sorry, Grace. Come down to the station tomorrow, eh, and tell them what you've found over Christmas. Take it from there.'

‘I don't think I can,' she admitted. ‘I've had a bit of a change of heart about living in the cottage. I'm planning to leave later today.'

‘Well, give Barton a call instead, then.'

Niall obviously wasn't convinced that she'd found anything worth investigating, or he wouldn't be so accepting of her going. He was just being kind, she realised, helping her
tie up loose ends for her own peace of mind. There was no point being here – hanging on to an empty hope. Everyone else was focused on other things. Life had moved on.

They traipsed back over the grass. Niall walked beside her, and didn't say another word until they were next to Grace's car.

He held her door open for her as she climbed in. As he did so, he looked up at the snow-laden sky. ‘Best get going, if you're planning to,' he said, the warning clear within his words. ‘It can be pretty dangerous driving on the moors with snow around – and it'll be dark within the hour.'

It was barely three o'clock by the time Grace got back onto the main road, but Niall was right – already the daylight was beginning to fade. As she headed out of town she was slowed down by the drifting snow. She drove as quickly as she dared, trying not to be reckless.

She was only a couple of miles from the moor road turnoff when she met a queue. She sat there impatiently, eyes fixed on the blur of red lights from the car in front of her, trapped in stuffy air as the heating hit full-blast. Now and again they edged forward, but it must have taken a good twenty minutes before she reached the cause of the delay. Two cars had crashed at a junction and the accident took up one side of the road. She glanced at it as she passed, but the people involved were no longer there, only the empty shells of their badly damaged vehicles. It looked like it had been nasty, and Grace rapidly reassessed her plans. Was she doing
the right thing rushing Millie away? She looked nervously at her watch. Yes, she told herself – all she had to do was pack the car and turn around when she got back. She'd persuade Ben to tow her out of the village if she had to.

She left the traffic behind as she indicated right and turned onto the empty road that cut through the moors, dismayed by the heavy grey sky. Five miles to Roseby, the sign said. As she tried to speed up, the snow became millions of tiny white specks shooting towards her windscreen from the gloom. It was mesmerising, and Grace had to focus hard to keep her eyes on the tarmac.

The minutes ticked by, and the way in front of her swiftly became a blank white nothingness. Soon she could no longer see where the roadside ended and the moors began – the only things to help her were the tall slim markers spaced every fifty metres or so, their reflective red tips lighting the way.

She was moving slower and slower, and her low spirits sank even further. She couldn't risk bringing Millie out in this. Herself, yes, but not her daughter. They were going to have to spend another night in the cottage. She wasn't sure she could get through it without going mad. She could sleep with the light on, but she didn't know if she was more terrified of the shadows that crept along the walls or the obliterating dark.

Fear bred upon fear, as the storm of white outside grew stronger. The car was forced to a crawl. Grace had lost all points of reference, even the markers. She was frantic now, blinded by whiteness, desperate to reach the cottage, all thoughts of getting out again forgotten. It felt like she'd been on the moors forever – surely she should have been
back by now? Perhaps she had unwittingly taken a wrong turn.

She was on the point of hysteria when a tall stone marker came into view. She stared at it, sure she had never seen it on this route before, but it looked familiar. Then she recognised it with a shock: it was the picture on the front of Connie's book of ghosts: a stone marker with a simple cross – like a gravestone.

It loomed closer, the headlights' illumination giving it a spectral sheen. She would be familiar with it, surely, if she were on the right road. Where the hell was she?

Transfixed, she neglected to steer, and the tyres came off the tarmac, immediately floundering as they struggled for traction on the sodden moorland. She whipped the steering wheel hard round, but the car skidded and juddered, and she had to brake sharply.

She peered through the windscreen, her fingers still clutching the wheel. Daylight had faded to nothing; night was in ascendance. She had no idea where the road was any more. She leaned against the steering wheel for a moment to stop herself from hyperventilating. When she looked up, snow pelted the car in frozen fury. Blackness surrounded her. She couldn't even see the stone marker now.

She tentatively pressed her accelerator. The engine roared, the tyres spun, but she didn't move.

She kept the engine running and fumbled in her pocket for her phone, willing it to have reception out here. She almost wept when the little screen lit up and showed a good signal. She had two missed calls from Ben. She hadn't even heard it ring, but now she pressed redial rapidly, her hands shaking.

‘Grace?' He answered immediately, sounding agitated. ‘I've been really worried, where are you?'

‘Ben, is Millie all right?'

‘Yes, of course, she's fine – she's playing. Now, where the hell are you?'

‘I'm stuck on the moor top.' She tried and failed to keep the panic out of her voice. ‘I've driven off the road, but I must be close to the village – I've been travelling long enough. I've just passed a stone marker with a cross on it. What should I do? Shall I try to walk back?'

‘No,' he said sharply. ‘Don't leave the car, Grace. I told you, the snow can cause all sorts of trouble. Listen … I'll come and get you. Wait there.'

He hung up, leaving her so relieved that she put her head down and finally let the dam of her emotions loose. She sobbed loudly into her hands, releasing all her pain, her frustration, her anger, and her sorrow, gulping in air until she felt spent. When she looked up again, she was resigned and ready for the long night ahead.

Now that the car had stopped moving, the snow wasn't as fierce, but it still fell relentlessly, and it was hard to make out much else. If there really were ghosts on the moors, it would be the perfect time for them to take a walk. Her eyes flickered from side to side, searching for unexpected movement. Her ears strained to hear anything out of the ordinary. She looked in her rear-view mirror, but the stone marker had been annihilated by darkness. It had been tall enough for a man to hide behind. What if there was somebody there, just out of sight?

She put her head in her hands. What was she doing? Why was she insisting on terrorising herself?

Too afraid to look out again, she kept her eyes down, trying to hold herself together. She ran through everything that had happened since she had arrived – right through from her first memories with Adam … the night he had disappeared … coming back, and the lonely weeks since, as she had tried to figure everything out. All of which had led her to this point – lost within the fall of night, snow suffocating the world.

She felt for the newspaper article in her pocket, and switched on the overhead light. She stared at the photo of Jonny, wondering how much he knew of Adam, and if this amiable-looking man had ever tried to make contact with his son.

Something told her that she was close to uncovering the truth. Everything she had discovered had proved that her suspicions were well founded. So if Jonny didn't hold the answer, who did?

Finally, she saw the glow of headlights on the horizon, gradually becoming brighter. She kept concentrating on the newspaper article, and her memories and discoveries of the past few weeks spun and whirled. As Ben's Land Rover drew nearer, an idea flitted across her mind, so rapidly that it was almost gone before she caught it and reeled it in. It danced in front of her so vividly that for a moment she was spellbound. At first it seemed absurd, but as she twisted this strange notion over in her mind, it began to make perfect, awful sense.

By the time Ben got close enough to see her, she had jumped out of her car and was racing across to him. She flung open the passenger door, breathless and agitated.

Ben stared at her. ‘Grace, are you okay? I'm sorry but you're going to have to spend another night here – there's no point in attempting to get your car out until morning. It's too treacherous to drive in the dark anyway.'

Bess was there, trying to scramble across Ben to greet her, but Grace wasn't paying attention to either of them. Instead she was looking frantically through all the windows. ‘Where's Millie?' Panic filled her throat.

‘Claire's got her, at the schoolhouse – I didn't dare drive up the hill in this weather without her strapped into a car seat. We'll pick her up on the way back.'

‘Oh god, Ben,' Grace screamed at him. ‘What have you done? We need to go and get her NOW.'

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