Smile and be a Villain (13 page)

‘You told them to call Derek if they saw any signs of her,' I said when he came out.

‘Indeed. You're coming along, my dear.'

‘I do still remember how to count in French, at least up to ten.' We were silent the rest of the way back up to the road.

We walked all the way back to our room. ‘Are you hungry?' asked Alan.

‘No.'

He nodded and sat heavily in the more comfortable of the room's two chairs. I stretched out on the bed, but I wasn't sleepy, either. The silence stretched out.

Of all the things a human being is called to do in a crisis, waiting is the worst. Actions, even if they're difficult or painful or dangerous, occupy one's mind. Waiting simply expands the fear till it fills one's heart and soul.

I stood up. ‘Alan, I have to do something.'

He stood, too. ‘Right. What?'

‘First we're going to go over to the church and say a prayer for Alice, and ask for guidance.'

‘Sounds good to me. But first let's eat something. I'm not hungry, either, but our bodies know it's dinner time, and we're both aware of blood sugar levels and the way our minds work, or don't.' He rummaged in the drawer where we kept our few supplies. ‘There's a bit of cheese left, and a few biscuits, and some grapes. Not really a meal, but it'll help.'

It all tasted rather like sawdust, but I saw the wisdom in Alan's words. Yes, we needed some fuel.

That took only a few minutes. Then I put on my hiking boots and grabbed every map and guide book we had, also flashlights. Alan carried both our sticks. We might find nothing to do with them, but at least we were prepared. Just before we went out the door, I reached for my jacket, and handed Alan his. Who knew how long we might be out there? The day had been warm, but nights could get quite chilly.

I suppose we had expected to find the church dark and quiet, late on a Friday afternoon. It was dark, but not quite quiet. A little group of women talked in low tones in a corner. A few more, and a handful of men, including Mr Lewison, the locum, knelt in the pews. We weren't the only ones seeking the help of God.

We didn't speak to any of them, but left quietly after we'd done what we came to do. I looked at the flowers in the churchyard, remembered the bats and had an idea. ‘Nature,' I said.

‘Mmm?'

‘She likes nature. I'm sure it was the nature part of the bunker she sought, not the war memorabilia. And Phil said she liked to walk. I think she would have looked for a place where she could find the peace that nature can provide. But I don't know the island well enough to know which place she might seek out.'

‘Nor do I. Let's see what you have there.'

We studied the brochures. ‘This looks like a good bet,' said Alan pointing out something called the Longis Nature Reserve, ‘but it's too far away to walk.'

‘Then let's find a car. I wonder if Mr Lewison would drive us.'

‘We can but ask.'

He was coming out of the church as we turned to go back in. Alan approached him and explained what we wanted to do.

‘But of course! I'm deeply disturbed about Mrs Small. I have tried to sound her out about what's been bothering her, but she wouldn't talk to me. I very strongly feel that we must waste no time in finding her. My car's just here.'

Clouds had moved in, and the dusk was deepening to that deceptive time when there seems still to be plenty of light, but everything appears in shades of grey. We drove up the High Street at a speed that seemed reckless to me, but I am still uneasy on the narrow roads one finds on this side of the Atlantic. In another way I was happy about the speed, however. I felt as the priest did; we needed to find Alice as soon as possible.

We arrived at a place called, our driver said, ‘The Nunnery'.

‘A convent?'

‘No. Never was, so far as I know. I don't know how it got the name. It's extremely old, originally a Roman fort. Even back then they were worried about invasion. Now from here I'm afraid we'll have to walk. Have you torches?'

We produced them.

‘Then I propose we follow the trail as described in your brochure. Please do be careful. There will certainly be rabbit holes. Alderney is overrun with rabbits.'

Our progress was slow. The landmarks indicated in the brochure were probably easy to find in broad daylight. In the half-light of a long dusk, we had a hard time. However, I assumed it didn't really matter if we strayed off the track. Alice might be anywhere, off the trail or on. It was a large, remote area, and to me, at this hour, infinitely menacing.

We stumbled on. I was glad we'd brought our sticks and worn stout boots. We were silent, but the evening wasn't. Crickets sounded on all sides, and here and there a late bird. I was bitten by a mosquito, then another. Well, at any rate we wouldn't encounter bats.

The evening grew darker. I clung to Alan's arm. We didn't speak. We shone our flashlights this way and that, looking for hazards, for any sign that a woman had been here before us. Nothing.

The crickets paused for a moment, and I heard something else. A frog, perhaps? The brochure said there was a pond near here somewhere. I just hoped I saw it before I fell in.

The sound came again. A bit high-pitched for a frog, unless they were different here.

Alan put out a hand. ‘Stop.'

We stopped and listened, and heard the sound again. This time there was no doubt. ‘Is someone there? Help!'

S
he was lying so near the pond that I went cold at the thought of what might have happened, had she been a step or two closer. She was exhausted, and cold. Her skin was cut in several places by the rough underbrush into which she'd fallen, and even in the dim light I could see dozens of mosquito bites. But she was alive.

I covered her with all our jackets while Alan called Derek and we waited for rescue. ‘It was a rabbit hole, I think,' she said, through chattering teeth. ‘I wasn't looking where I was going, and suddenly I just came crashing down. I think I've broken my ankle. It hurts quite a lot if I try to move it.'

‘You poor dear! How long have you been here?'

‘I came out for a walk early in the morning, about six, I suppose.' She tried to change her position and drew in a hissing breath.

‘If you can, try not to move until the ambulance gets here. They'll know how to make you more comfortable without damaging anything. I do wish we had brought some hot coffee, or tea.'

She was shivering strongly. ‘As long as I can shiver, I'm all right. I don't know much about first aid, but I do know that.'

‘So you went for a walk,' I prompted. One of the few things I thought
I
remembered about first aid is that it's often better to keep the victim awake and talking. ‘Your neighbour, Mr … what's his name, Alan?'

‘Cooper. Phil Cooper.'

‘Yes. Well, he thought it was odd that you'd gone off with the windows and doors closed. He said you usually left something open for the cat.'

‘Yes, well … Sammy has been very naughty lately, killing birds and staying out all night. I didn't want him to go out until I was there to keep an eye on him.' She made another impatient movement, and cried out.

I was greatly relieved to hear the sound of the approaching ambulance.

‘It's a clean break,' said the doctor. Alan and I, along with Mr Lewison and Phil Cooper, had been waiting at the little hospital for a report. ‘But lying outside for all those hours didn't help any. She was close to hypothermia. If she hadn't been found when she was … but she
was
found, and she'll be fine. Of course she had to be flown to Guernsey to have the bone set and the cast put on. She'll be back here tomorrow, and I'll want to keep her here for a day or two until I'm sure she has recovered from the exposure, and we're able to regulate her pain. She's not going to be doing any serious walking for quite some time, I'm afraid.'

‘I wanted to see her,' said Phil, sounding bereft.

‘She wouldn't have known you were there. She's being given morphine and won't wake up for a while. Best thing for her right now.'

‘I still wanted to see her.'

‘He's got it bad,' I murmured to Alan.

‘Mmm. How old do you think they are?'

‘Fifties? She's a widow. We don't know about his background.' I turned to Phil. ‘Now look, friend. You're worn out, and so are we, and I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Will there be a restaurant still open anywhere?'

‘Braye Beach Hotel, perhaps, but I'm not hungry.'

‘Then come with us and have a drink. And I think we need a taxi. I'm not sure I can walk another step.'

The restaurant at the hotel was still open, and the menu was inviting. By the time Phil had downed a stiff whisky, he had recovered his appetite, as I had hoped he would. Once we had a lovely dinner of fresh seafood in front of us, he had relaxed enough to talk.

‘I don't understand about the cat,' he said, buttering a piece of crusty bread. ‘He's never killed a bird, that I've seen. Mice, yes, and voles, but not birds. And he's neutered, not interested in chasing after the ladies. She's never shut him in before.'

‘That's interesting.'

‘And another thing. She's never gone out walking so early before. We – she usually walks after she gets home from the library, or in the afternoons when she isn't working.'

‘You walk together?' I asked casually.

‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact.' He sounded like one of my long-ago school children, ready to add, ‘You wanna make somethin' of it?'

‘How nice.' Good grief. I sounded like a nanny. ‘Alan and I love to walk together. It's one of our favourite things.'

‘And even when she went walking alone, she always, always told someone where she was going. It can be dangerous—' He broke off suddenly. I was sure he was thinking, not only of Alice, but of Abercrombie tumbling down that steep hill.

I wasn't sure how, or whether, to broach the subject that was on my mind, but Alan was less timid.

‘I'm sure this isn't something you want to think about, Phil, and I'm sorry to bring it up, but you know that Alice was not her usual self these past few days. Do you think that her depression could have led her to thoughts of self-destruction?'

‘No! No, she would never do that! No, I'm certain she's never thought of such a thing!'

I looked at Alan. Too much denial. He'd worried about it, for sure.

‘I ask only because of her unusual behaviour,' Alan went on. ‘She went for a walk at an unaccustomed time, without telling you or, apparently, anyone else. She locked her cat inside, when she normally left him a way to get out. She didn't take her car or any money or identification. All this suggests to me that she may have planned not to return.'

‘I – she – oh, I don't know!'

It was, I thought, a good thing we were in a public place, or Phil might have broken down completely, and he would have hated that. The people of Alderney may not be English, but the stiff-upper-lip tradition prevails, nevertheless. He spoke quietly, but there was pain in his voice.

‘A month ago I'd have said I knew Alice better than anyone else on this island. We … enjoyed each other's company. Then it all changed, and the past few days, since he died, she wouldn't talk to me at all. I don't know what's going on in her head. Certainly she's not mourning that man; she detested him.'

‘The death of someone you hate can create really complicated feelings,' I said. ‘Guilt, among other things, especially for a Christian. Why wasn't I nicer to him while he was alive, why didn't I forgive him – that sort of thing. Even fear that somehow one's hatred contributed to the person's death. Not very sensible or productive, but we can't manufacture our feelings as we choose.'

‘If she would only have talked to me!'

‘Perhaps she'll talk to you now,' I said. ‘She's had a terrible experience today. Sometimes that can change a person.'

And that was my five-cent psychology for the evening. We were all nearly falling asleep, so Alan paid our bill and the hotel people summoned us a taxi to take us to our well-earned beds.

Just before Alan turned out the light, he said, ‘Why do you really think Alice went out for that solitary walk?'

‘The same as what you think. She intended to kill herself.'

‘Does that mean she was involved in Abercrombie's death?'

‘I have no idea. 'Night, love.'

Alice was flown back to Alderney Saturday morning, and we went to visit her as soon as they would let us. She was sitting up, looking uncomfortable. The scratches on her face and arms were unsightly but didn't look dangerous. What did rouse my sympathy were the mosquito bites on every visible area of skin. I started to feel itchy myself.

‘My dear woman, are they doing something about those bites? Calamine or something?'

‘They've given me antihistamines. They don't help much. It isn't just mosquitoes; there were fleas, too. I slept last night. I was so tired, and drugged, but it's bad now I'm awake.'

‘Not a romantic sort of suffering, but miserable all the same. And how is your ankle?'

‘Painful.'

‘The morphine doesn't help?'

‘I refused it. I don't want—'

Don't want to become addicted? Don't want relief from the pain? I changed the subject. ‘When are they going to let you go home? And who will take care of you once you're there?'

‘I can manage.'

‘Alice, I broke my leg once, several years ago. I was amazed at how much I couldn't do. Even getting dressed was a challenge. I absolutely could not have coped without Alan. Your cast isn't as cumbersome as mine was, but it's bad enough. You'll be on crutches. That will limit what you can do with your hands. Even feeding Sammy will be tricky, because you'll need to bend over, and it's so easy to lose your balance and fall. Trust me: you'll need help. Who among your friends might be able to stay with you for a few days?'