Moonlight and Ashes (47 page)

When she saw something with a big fat tail scurry across the room in the far corner, she swallowed the cry of terror that rose in her throat, and tried to pretend it was Albert. She was trying her very best to be brave, but despite her best efforts, a big fat tear slid from her eye and rolled down her cold cheek.

‘Eeh,
cariad
. Whatever is the matter?’ Mrs Evans crooned as she crossed to take her in her arms.

Without being able to stop herself, Lizzie sobbed, ‘I want me mam.’

A cold light shone in Mrs Evans’s eyes as she shook the child roughly. ‘Wash out your mouth now. Haven’t I
told
you that from now on,
I
am your mother? Now shush. It’s time we were getting some rest.’

Without any warning, she suddenly blew out the candle and Lizzie found herself in pitch darkness. Huddling down into a heap on the cold damp floor she lay there shivering until she eventually cried herself to sleep.

 

Maggie was wakened by the sound of someone hammering on the door. She threw herself out of bed and flew across to the window. It was barely light, but as she looked down she could just make out the shape of a policeman standing at the front door. Her heart missed a beat as she slipped her arms into the dressing-gown she had put across the end of the bed, and ran along the landing. Perhaps he’d come to tell them that they’d found Danny? The hope lent speed to her bare feet as she fled down the stairs. Her hopes were dashed, however, when she emerged into the hall to hear him having a muttered conversation with Eric.

‘So as I said, we’ve phoned through to the police in Coventry and they’ll be keeping a look-out for Danny and Gus.’

As they heard her coming towards them, both men turned in her direction and she saw the worry etched on Eric’s face.

‘You haven’t managed to find him yet then?’ She addressed the policeman and he shook his head sadly as he hastily took off his helmet.

‘No, we haven’t, ma’am, although we now know where the boys have gone. Young Gus left a note for the lady who looks after him down the hill, and apparently the two lads were heading to Coventry to see
you
, ma’am.’ While Maggie was absorbing this piece of news, he went on. ‘The note had dropped down by the bed, that’s why she didn’t spot it before. But I’m afraid that’s not all I’ve come to tell you.’

‘What do you mean?’ she asked in bewilderment.

The portly policeman cleared his throat before telling her, ‘I’m afraid it looks as if your Lizzie has gone missing too.’

Maggie felt suddenly faint, and she reached out to Eric to steady herself. She managed to croak, ‘Do you think she’s with Danny?’

‘No, I’m afraid not. It seems that Mrs Evans got wind of your visit and she’s taken Lizzie off somewhere.’

‘But why would she do that?’

‘Because . . .’ The policeman cleared his throat again. ‘It appears that Mrs Evans is having some sort of breakdown following the death of her husband. Somehow, she’s got it into her mind that Lizzie is the little girl she lost a number of years ago. The vicar’s wife has had some concerns about her for some time. In fact, only recently she tried to persuade Mrs Evans that it would be better for all concerned if Lizzie were to be placed somewhere else for a while. I believe that Mr Sinclair here offered to let her come and stay with Danny and himself, but Mrs Evans wouldn’t hear of it.’

‘Oh my God!’ Maggie clapped her hand across her mouth.

‘Anyway,’ the policeman went on, ‘this morning, the vicar and his wife paid Mrs Evans an early-morning call only to find the cottage door unlocked. When they couldn’t make anyone hear them, they took the liberty of letting themselves in to make sure that all was as it should be, and that’s when they found your letter discarded on the chair. The child’s case was gone, as were some of her clothes, so we can only assume that Mrs Evans has taken her off somewhere.’

‘Is she likely to hurt her?’ Maggie asked brokenly.

He shook his head. ‘That is highly unlikely, especially as she thinks the child is her own daughter. Even now I have men scouring the area for them. There’s no record of them taking a train anywhere so we have to presume that they’re still in the area. As for Danny, the police have already traced your mother-in-law in Coventry, and been to visit her, and as yet there’s no sign of him, or his friend, Gus. As soon as there is, I assure you they’ll let us know.’

Maggie sank weakly down onto the bottom step as despair engulfed her. Now she looked in grave danger of losing the twins too, and if she did, she didn’t know how she would find the strength to go on. They were all she had left to live for now.

‘Should I get back to Coventry?’ she asked the sober-faced officer.

He shook his head. ‘I think perhaps it would be best if you stayed here until we’ve located Lizzie. Then, when we know she’s safe and sound, we’ll decide what’s best to do about your son. For all we know, he could be around here somewhere too.’ Turning his attention back to Eric, he asked, ‘Will it be all right if Mrs Bright stays here for a while, sir?’

‘Yes . . . yes, of course it will,’ Eric replied quickly. It was the least he could do until there was some resolution to this dreadful affair.

Once the officer had left, Maggie began to pace up and down the kitchen like a caged animal. She felt as if she was being torn in two, for half of her wanted to get home to Coventry in case Danny showed up there, and the other half wanted to stay here until Lizzie was found.

Eric was on tenterhooks too, and eventually he rose and began to put on his outdoor clothes.

‘I think I might just go and have another scout round,’ he told her as he struggled into his boots, which were still sodden from the night before.

‘I’ll come with you,’ Maggie volunteered immediately, but he shook his head.

‘No - it might be best if you stayed here in case there’s any news about either of them. Just help yourself to anything you want while I’m gone. I’m sure you’ll soon find your way about.’

‘Thank you. It’s . . . very good of you to let me stay.’ She still found it hard to look at him when she addressed him, for the scars on his face were hideous. He was obviously aware of the fact and all the time he was talking to her he self-consciously turned his head so that only the unscarred side of his face showed.

When she realised this, a tremor of sympathy ran through her and she tried to look at him differently. In fact, she realised that, had it not been for his disfigurement, he would actually have been a very attractive man. His hair was thick and as black as coal, and the one visible eye was a deep sapphire blue. She briefly wondered what might have happened to him to cause the scars, but her mind was too full of her children’s plight to dwell on it for long and she was soon pacing again as she nervously chewed on her nails. As he moved across the room she suddenly asked, ‘Did you get on well with Danny?’

‘Danny and I got on very well when we came to know each other,’ he replied quietly, ‘but I’d better get on. I’ll er . . . I’ll see you later.’ Calling Samson to his side, he yanked the door open.

When the door closed behind him, the silence seemed to close in on Maggie and panic started to get a grip. It was so quiet here. She was used to the noise of traffic, having lived in a city all her life, so this remote house was difficult to get used to. It was so isolated and so . . . she searched in her mind for the word she was looking for. Sad! That was it. This was a sad house in all ways - as if the owner’s grief had somehow rubbed off on it. Somehow she sensed that Eric
was
sad - and not just because of Danny’s disappearance. There was something about him that told her he was lonely. Perhaps she could see it because she had been lonely herself. She had been trapped for years in a loveless marriage, and deep down she had always yearned for David, who had been the first love of her life. As she thought of him now, a great well of sadness opened up inside her. They were both free now, yet life had changed them, and the closeness they’d once shared seemed to have vanished as if it had never been.

Sighing, she looked around the room. It was reasonably clean, and yet somehow it looked unloved. That was it - sad and unloved. Maggie was very tired but unused to being idle so she decided to tidy up a little. It would give her something to do and make her feel that she was earning her keep, as well as keeping her mind off what was happening.

After rummaging around behind the curtain that hung beneath the sink, she managed to find some polish and old rags, and crossing to the heavy oak table, she began to clean it. Then, systematically, she worked her way around the kitchen until every single piece of furniture shone. Next she turned her attention to the huge sashcord windows. A drop of vinegar in water would soon sort
them
out. Very soon they were shining too, so now she began to rearrange the pieces of furniture that she could manage to move. Hands on hips, she stood back to survey her handiwork and smiled as she saw that the room was beginning to look cosy. The floor was the next thing to get her attention, though that took slightly longer for it was enormous compared to the small kitchen floor she was used to back at home. By the time she was done, she was breathless and some of her hair, which she’d tied into a ponytail with a pretty red ribbon, had escaped into little wispy tendrils that framed her heart-shaped face. Unable to find an apron, she had popped a huge artist’s smock on, and now as she caught sight of herself in the mirror that hung above the mantelshelf she couldn’t help but grin. She certainly looked a sight and was glad there was no one there to see her.

As she turned, her eyes were drawn to the small easel with a picture propped up on it. Crossing to it, she gazed at it admiringly. It was so lifelike that she felt she could almost hear the wind in the trees that swept down to the sea.

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

Maggie had been so absorbed in the painting that when the voice sounded at the side of her she almost jumped out of her skin. She turned startled eyes to see Eric looking past her at the painting. Very aware of what a state she was in, she hastily tried to scrape her hair back into its ponytail.

‘Sorry, I er . . . I didn’t hear you come in,’ she said as colour crept into her cheeks, and she was shocked to see that it was almost lunchtime.

Eric saw the question in her eyes and said, ‘I’m afraid there’s no news on either of them as yet, but try not to worry. The village men are out scouring the countryside for Lizzie and I’ve no doubt the police in Coventry will be doing the same for Danny. We’re bound to find them soon. I’ve taken the liberty of asking the police to let your mother-in-law know that Lizzie is missing too and that you’ll be staying on here until she’s found.’

Maggie’s shoulders sagged as she walked despondently to the window. It was such a vast expanse out there. How would they ever find such a little girl in all that space? And where was Danny? What if he’d arrived home while Coventry was being bombed? Had he been caught in the air raid? Was he lying dead somewhere?

Turning quickly away from the window she was just in time to see Eric staring around in astonishment.

‘Good grief! How did you ever manage to make the place look like this?’

‘Elbow grease,’ she told him. ‘After you went out I needed something to do to keep me occupied so I set to. I hope you don’t mind? I thought perhaps it would show my appreciation for you letting me stay here.’

‘You didn’t have to,’ he told her. ‘But as for minding . . . well, of course I don’t mind! Everywhere just looks so . . . so homely. I have to admit, I’m not the best when it comes to prettying the place up. But you’ve done wonders. You must be worn out, Mrs Bright. How about I make us some dinner now as my way of saying thank you?’

‘I’ll tell you what. How about we do it together?’ she said shyly. ‘I actually quite enjoy cooking and I’d like to stay busy.’

He nodded in agreement and soon they were standing side by side at the sink peeling potatoes and carrots. Slowly, the atmosphere became less strained as he told her about some of the things he and Danny had been doing together during her son’s stay with him.

She found herself smiling as he told her about Soho Gus and Sparky, and the mischief the three of them had got up to. It also struck her that he was speaking of Danny with genuine affection.

‘I didn’t want to take an evacuee,’ he admitted, ‘but Miss Williams who was organising all the billets is very hard to say no to. Until Danny came I rarely ventured down into the village unless it was to take a trip to the post office or buy supplies.’

Peering at him, she asked, ‘Don’t you get lonely, stuck up here in the back of beyond all by yourself?’

He shook his head. ‘Not at all. In fact, that was the reason I bought this place. So that I could be on my own.’

Maggie frowned. It seemed that her earlier assumption had been right then. Eric
was
lonely - from choice, it seemed. But something must have happened in his past to make him feel that way.

‘Have you lived here for long?’

‘About seven years or so now.’

‘And where did you live before?’

He threw the paring knife into the sink. ‘I reckon it’s about time I filled the log basket,’ he told her shortly, and turning on his heel he marched away.

Maggie sighed, wondering when she would ever learn to keep her big mouth shut. What business was it of hers what he’d done in his past anyway? Lifting the knife, she finished preparing the vegetables. From now on she would try to be more careful. She might only be here for a few more hours or days. Then again, it could be longer so the least said about his personal life the better. He was obviously a very private person and she would have to learn to respect that.

Lifting the heavy pan, she carried it to the range then hurried upstairs to tidy herself up.

 

The next four days were the longest of Maggie’s life. Each morning, Eric would join the men from the village as they gradually extended their search of the area for Lizzie. But it was as if she had vanished into thin air and each day he would arrive home dispirited and sad.