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But the real question was this: what on earth was she going to say to her father, or indeed to the bastards who had kidnapped him? She knew what they wanted. They wanted the evidence which Ellie had had. Evidence which Ellie had almost certainly hidden up here, either in this cottage or somewhere nearby. Why else would Ellie have s
ent her that cryptic message? But Ellie was dead now. Not an accidental hit-and-run and maybe not even suicide. One night Ellie had got into a big car with opaque windows and had never come home. She had disappeared from the face of the world. Not a single mention on the internet of any suicide. Murdered, and dumped where she would never be found.
And now they were after her and Beth. Because they wanted to know what she knew. Because she and Ellie had once been thick as thieves. They wanted her to lead them to whatever it was that Ellie had died for. Except that she didn’t know what that was.
And what then? Even if she knew, and handed it over, would they let her and Beth go? Maybe. Or maybe not. She shuddered.
‘Mother.’ Beth had appeared in the doorway. ‘Can we go out and have an explore? It’s nice and sunny now.’
‘Why not?’ She smiled at the girl and eased herself off the sofa. ‘I’ll make us a picnic. It’ll be fun.’
She went through to the little kitchen to see what she could rustle up. Mrs Sidebottom had dropped some food in as promised: ham and cheese rolls, bags of crisps, some apples and cereal bars. It was a feast. She went through the cupboards. Someone had left a packet of ginger biscuits and a fancy-looking bag of popcorn. There was a flask too. They would need some water to drink. Now that Beth had suggested it, she found herself desperate to get out of the cottage. Inside, they would be trapped if anything happened. Outside, at least she had the advantage of having been there before. She knew the way to the old quarry. There was a small lake there. It was a great place to picnic and, if necessary, to hide.
* * *
Arthur hadn’t spoken a single word since breakfast, not since he had asked the little ferret of a man what his name was. He had forgotten straight away. Something musical, he thought, but he really couldn’t remember. He had always had trouble with names and it was a lot worse now. But he did know that he really didn’t like these people. Actually the man wasn’t too bad. But the woman was two-faced, one minute speaking ever so patronisingly to him, as if he were a complete idiot, and the next telling the man that she didn’t want to leave “loose ends.” He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but he sensed that it wasn’t a good thing.
They were driving north. He knew that because when the sun shone, it was behind them. He wanted to ask them to stop so that he could spend a penny, but he had decided not to speak at all. He knew he needed to make a plan and playing dumb was all he could come up with for now. He wanted them to think he was completely incapable of doing anything for himself. Then maybe they would get careless and he would get a chance to escape. Quite where he would escape to, he really didn’t know. He guessed he would have to find somewhere to hide and then hope that someone nice came and found him.
The man turned around from the front seat. ‘Are you all right, Arthur?’ The car had stopped. They were in a car park and people were walking past.
Arthur said nothing.
‘Do you want to go to the toilet? Would you like a sandwich? Or a hamburger? Drink of tea or coffee?’
Arthur frowned and said nothing. The man was actually quite nice.
‘We’ll have to take it in turns,’ the woman said. ‘Or he’ll go wandering off and we’ll never find him.’
* * *
They were heading north still. Arthur was feeling uncomfortable. He hadn’t moved from the back seat since they had set out after breakfast. He shut his mind to his discomfort and nibbled at his sandwich. Cheese and lettuce, the man had said. He liked cheese, especially cheddar, but he wasn’t so keen on lettuce. Cheese and tomato would have been better, but he wasn’t going to complain. He wasn’t going to say anything. He really should have told them that he needed to go to the toilet, but he had a plan and he was going to stick to it. As long as he was sitting down, he could hold it in.
The odd thing was that the scenery was familiar. He felt as if he had been here before, in the past, when Maggie had been a kid and before that too. Holidays. That was it. Family holidays in North Yorkshire. Him and Maggie and his beloved Peggy.
‘Here. Turn left,’ said the man. The woman was called Bridget. He could remember her name, but not the man’s. Something odd. Something to do with music. But he just couldn’t remember it.
They were bumping along a farm track. There were hedges either side, and through them he could see fields of grass.
‘There they are.’
‘I’m not blind,’ Bridget snapped.
They lurched on, faster than before, and then jerked to a halt.
The man waiting for them was very tall with scruffy hair. He didn’t seem to have shaved for several days. The woman was smarter and much prettier, wearing a black leather jacket, jeans and brown boots.
‘Just give me a few seconds,’ Bridget said.
She didn’t say what she needed a few seconds for. She was scrabbling around in her large handbag. Arthur wondered if she wanted to check her lipstick. Peggy had always checked her lipstick before meeting people.
The man with the musical name got out and walked up to the other one. He shook hands with him and then the woman. The two men started to talk. He couldn’t hear them that well. He thought the woman looked a bit irritated. Maybe they were talking about football.
Arthur assumed Bridget had finished doing her face because she got out of the car.
‘Hi there. You must be Sinead,’ she said in her cheerful Irish accent.
‘Yes,’ replied the woman.
