The Language of Spells (27 page)

Gwen felt terrible . ‘Ruby. I’m sorry. I’d forgotten about all that.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Ruby heaved a big, shuddering sigh and then, sounding more like herself, she said, ‘You were eighteen.’

‘And you were only twenty,’ Gwen said. She felt stunned by the realisation. She’d been angry with Ruby for so long she’d forgotten how young they’d both been.

Ruby sniffed. ‘Can I come round? I can’t be here any more. David is being all sensible. If he says “she’s fine” one more time, I’m going to start throwing things.’

‘Of course,’ Gwen said. ‘You can always come here.’

Gwen surveyed her kitchen table and the assembled people with concern. She’d started the morning feeling like a fraud, and now she felt like a very public fraud. ‘I don’t know if this will help,’ she said for the third time.

Ruby patted her shoulder. ‘It will. Don’t you remember? Gloria always said you could gather power from other people. Like a kind of circuit thing. Electricity.’

‘I feel ridiculous.’ David was scowling, his usually boyish features twisted and black. He shot an accusing look in Cam’s direction. ‘Why are you going along with this nonsense? It’s a waste of time.’

Cam shrugged.

Gwen swallowed. Gloria had also said that non-believers sapped energy. Maybe this was just going to make it worse. But then, what could be worse than drawing a blank?

Cam was already holding her right hand, and she reached out her left and clasped Ruby’s.

Ruby was staring intently at David. ‘Please,’ she said.

David exhaled. ‘Fine.’ He picked up Ruby and Cam’s hands with an air of martyrdom. Gwen didn’t blame him. She felt like she was pouring salt on their wounds. Giving false hope. Every bad thing she’d ever heard levelled at her mum or Iris.

She closed her eyes. The scarf was in the middle of the table, but she didn’t need to see it. She had held it and stared at it for so long its image was burned into her brain.

Cam squeezed her hand lightly and she took the impulse and fed it through the rest of her body, squeezing and then relaxing, pushing the tension out through the soles of her feet. The blank screen in her mind flickered and she ignored it, concentrating on the tension flowing downwards and away. She pictured it moving through the carpet and the floorboards to the foundations of the house. The flickering screen was definitely an image and, gradually, the flickering slowed and the picture cleared.

It wasn’t Katie. It was a stone wall. An old stone wall. It was like a photograph taken from the ground, the wall towered above Gwen. She concentrated, looking for clues. Snow thick on the ground, blinding white. The picture shifted so suddenly, Gwen thought she might be sick. Now there was the tip of a shoe. A red trainer. Katie’s red trainer. The wall had shifted so that Gwen could see its ragged top and a slice of grey sky. Then the screen went blank. Gwen waited a moment to see if anything came back and then opened her eyes.

Three pairs of eyes stared back at her. Gwen became aware of her stance. She was leaning forward over the table towards the scarf and there was an aching pain in both hands. She was gripping Ruby and Cam so hard her muscles were complaining. She released them. ‘Sorry.’

Ruby’s face fell and she turned to David. He took her in his arms, gazing stoically at the wall behind.

‘No. For hurting your hand,’ she clarified hurriedly. ‘I think it worked.’

Ruby turned back. ‘Katie?’

‘I think so. Yes. I saw her trainer. She’s lying down next to a stone wall. Old, like a castle or something. Somewhere windy.’

‘There aren’t any castles around here. Where’s the nearest?’ Ruby looked around wildly. ‘Dorset? Cornwall?’

‘It might not be a—’ Gwen said.

‘I’ll Google it.’ David had his iPhone out of his pocket.

Cam’s phone buzzed and he got up from the table to take it. He listened for a moment, then said, ‘Okay, thanks.’

‘Harry?’ Gwen asked.

‘Yep. He’s been talking to Katie’s friends. No one’s seen her, no one had any plans with her.’ He hesitated. ‘A name came up, though. Luke Taylor.’

Everyone turned and looked at Ruby, who shook her head slowly.

‘Apparently she and him have recently hooked up.’ He looked at David and quickly amended. ‘Become friendly. Friends, I mean. Just friends. People have seen them talking.’

David put his iPhone down. ‘You lot go looking for castles. I’m going to have a word with Mr Taylor.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Cam began.

David stood up. ‘When you’ve got a daughter, you come back and tell me that.’

Cam held his hands up. ‘Harry is on his way. He’s the police and he’s also a friend. If the kid knows anything, Harry will find out.’

Ruby put a hand on David’s arm. ‘Cam’s right. Let Harry talk to the boy. I want to go and look for her. I’m going insane just sitting around. I need to do something.’

‘Will you tell Harry about what I saw?’ Gwen watched Cam carefully, wondering whether he still thought she was delusional or a fraud.

He didn’t hesitate. ‘I’ll text him now. Give me every detail.’

Ruby was still gazing imploringly at David, who was standing very still, a battle etched plainly across his face.

‘Let’s make a list of the nearest castles; we’ll split up and start looking.’

‘Sherbourne,’ David said. ‘That’s got to be the nearest.’

‘That’s near Yeovil. How the hell would she have got down there? Why would she—’

‘I don’t know,’ he snapped. ‘You asked. I answered. I don’t know.’

‘What about Castle Combe?’ Cam said.

‘That’s just a village, isn’t it?’ Ruby said.

‘There’s a little bit of the original castle left in the woods. Bit of a crumbling wall, basically.’ He turned to Gwen. ‘Could that be it?’

‘We can check it.’ Gwen bit her lip. ‘It might not even be a castle. I just saw an old wall. It made me think “castle”, but what if I’m sending you on a wild goose chase?’

Ruby shrugged. ‘It’s all we’ve got. And it’s better than nothing. We’ve been door to door all around the party house and everywhere else we can think.’

‘Old walls,’ Cam said. ‘What else has old walls?’

‘Really old. And uneven on the top,’ Gwen added.

‘Bath has plenty of old walls, but they’re not in ruins.’ Ruby was already pulling on her coat.

‘So does Pendleford. What if she’s just lying in a field next to a dry stone and Gwen just got the perspective wrong?’ David said.

‘Hey,’ Cam said.

‘No, he’s right. I don’t know.’ Gwen sank down onto a chair, put her head in her hands. ‘I don’t know,’ she mumbled. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ She closed her eyes and reran the two images, trying to see them afresh but intact. What if her faulty memory or desperation added something that wasn’t there? Her wild goose chase could spiral even further out of control.

There was the wall. Old. The stones near the ground were very rough-looking, but the ones further up were block work. A little yellowish lichen. The next image, with the top of the wall, the slice of sky. The uneven top was more regular than Gwen had first thought. Block work suggesting crenellations. Exactly why she had immediately thought ‘castle’. So she wasn’t leading them astray, but how on earth had Katie gone as far as Sherbourne?

In the car, Cam concentrated on the road while Gwen stared out of the window. Castle Combe was only five miles away so, even though she was almost positive it wasn’t the right place, it made sense to double-check. Ruby and David had started towards Sherbourne, the more likely option.

Cam took one hand off the steering wheel and touched her knee. ‘She’ll be okay. It’s been less than twenty-four hours.’

‘That seems very long, suddenly.’

‘I know. But Harry says that most missing people are found within the first day.’

Gwen didn’t say anything, but she knew he meant most of the missing people who were found alive got found quickly. That didn’t account for the ones that stayed missing. Her stomach clenched. It gurgled, too, and Gwen realised that she hadn’t eaten since the night before.

The traffic was light, even approaching Bath, but as they skirted the east edge of the city, the cars in front slowed and soon they were snarled in one of the ever-present queues. Even the bad weather didn’t seem to put a dent in Bath’s traffic problem.

Gwen gazed out of the side window, seeing nothing. She had walled in the scary thoughts. The images of Katie lying alone and injured, or worse. The images of homeless kids. Lost kids. She went back over the two images for what felt like the millionth time. ‘I’m sure it isn’t a crumbled top; the more I think about it, the surer I am.’

‘Don’t worry. It won’t take us long to check this, then we can rule it out. At least we’re doing something.’

‘I know.’ Gwen lapsed into silence again.

They inched forwards, the familiar yellow stone buildings of Bath spread out before them. To the left rose Bathwick Hill and Gwen took in the familiar scene: the picturesque way the buildings rambled up its side. Even at this dead time of year, with a dark grey sky and bare trees, it was attractive.

The crenellations of Ralph Allen’s folly were just visible. They inched forwards, turning a bend in the road, and Gwen gazed back at it. It was typical of a Bathonian. To build something just to improve the view from his own window. Showy, expensive, but oh-so-tastefully done. Ruby and Gwen had developed a shorthand when they’d gone to school here; they’d put on comedy-posh voices and trill ‘this is
Bath
, darling’. Then it hit her.

Crenellations.

The folly was a mock front of a medieval castle. Made out of bath stone, it was fifteen feet high and had crenellations on the top of the walls, for battlements. From behind, the effect was lost. It was like a piece of scenery from a film set or a Lego model.

‘The folly.’

‘What?’ Gwen pointed and Cam looked. ‘The sham castle,’ he said. Then a second later, louder. ‘The sham
castle
.’

Gwen stared at him, stunned with the realisation. ‘Katie’s there.’

‘Use my phone.’ Cam plucked it from the side pocket and handed it across, just as traffic began to crawl forward again. ‘Phone Harry. He might be able to get there quicker.’

‘Right.’ Gwen’s head was frozen. She felt a rush of gratitude to Cam. He didn’t believe her, but he was acting as if he did. Somehow she managed to find the address book and press the button for Harry. There were traffic sounds wherever he was and someone in their queue was beeping their horn, but she managed to get the essentials across.

‘On it,’ Harry said and cut the connection.

As Cam drove, Gwen leaned her head against the glass and thought about the last time she had visited the folly. She had been with Cam, and they’d walked up Bathwick Hill one clear moonlit night. They had a bottle of Jack Daniels and had made up shapes from the stars, admired the lights of Bath spread below them, talked and drank. It was too cold to lie on the ground, not that Gwen wouldn’t have done so anyway, but Cam had held her up against the wall, her legs hooked around his waist. She felt a flush of guilt at thinking about sex at a time like this.

She blinked as the car stopped. ‘This isn’t it.’

‘It’s a golf course. I don’t think I can get any closer.’

‘Over there.’ Gwen jumped out and almost skidded on the icy ground. She caught her balance and opened the gate. A sign said: Private. Staff only.

Cam took the service track too quickly, the back of the car fish-tailing as he took a corner. When they saw flashing lights up ahead, he went even faster, pulling to a long, sliding stop. ‘Oh my God,’ he said. ‘You were right.’

Gwen already had her seat belt off and was out of the door, running, her feet crunching on the snow.

The doors to the ambulance were open and they were lifting a figure on a board inside. Two police in uniform came to meet her. She pushed past them. ‘That’s my niece.’ She saw feet disappearing into the ambulance. One red trainer, one stripy sock. ‘Oh God. Katie!’

Cam was with her now. He had his hand on her arm, was pulling her back. ‘Let them look after her.’

‘I just need to see her,’ Gwen said, pulling against Cam.

‘Come on. We’ll follow them to the hospital.’

Gwen struggled forwards, but the doors slammed shut. ‘Is she all right?’ She turned to the police, trying to shut out images of Stephen Knight’s lifeless body. That couldn’t be Katie. It couldn’t be. ‘What’s happened to her? Is she—’

‘She’s unconscious. They’ll be able to tell you more at the hospital.’ The man nodded at Cam. ‘Mr Laing.’

‘Oh God.’ Gwen put her hands to her face. ‘Oh God.’

‘Is Harry here?’ Cam said.

‘Over there.’ The second policeman jerked his head in the direction of the castle.

Cam set off and Gwen, holding onto him so that she didn’t keel over, had no choice but to go with him.

As they got closer, Gwen saw the rough and ready back of the folly. Something she hadn’t appreciated in the dead of night with her brains exploding with lust, was that the back was nowhere near as fancy as the front. It was almost slap-dash, in fact. They walked through the archway and there was the city, spread out below them, and there was Harry, crouched over by one of the fake towers.

He was poking through the snow with a pencil, but he straightened up as they approached. ‘I’ve phoned Ruby. They’re coming back.’

Cam nodded. ‘What does it look like?’

Harry glanced at Gwen. ‘No obvious injuries, no sign of a struggle. She’s got hypothermia, though. Hopefully moderate rather than severe, but that can cause confusion, lapses in judgement. Her mobile phone was less than a metre from where she was lying, but she either lost it or forgot about it.’

‘But why would she let herself get that cold? Why wouldn’t she have come back, used her phone?’ Gwen closed her eyes, felt herself swaying like a blade of grass.

Harry shrugged. ‘Maybe the hypothermia set in quickly, made her thinking muddled. Maybe she was drunk.’

‘What’s that?’ Cam was pointing at a plastic bag.

Harry held it up. An empty alcopop bottle, some bright blue liquid still in the bottom. ‘Not much of a mystery.’

Gwen opened her eyes in time to see a look pass between the two men. She filed it under ‘later’ and said, ‘We need to go to the hospital. Now.’

The drive to the hospital passed in a blur. Gwen felt feverish. She laid her head against the cool glass of the window and marvelled at the heat in her head. Her body was in overdrive, while her brain seemed to have shut down.

‘You were right,’ Cam kept saying. ‘I can’t believe it. How did you do that?’

Gwen was too overwhelmed to answer him. She shook her head. ‘What the hell was she doing up there? And what if we were too late?’ She thought about the hours that had passed. Katie lying outside, unconscious, in the cold. She wrapped her arms around her middle, as if she could physically hold herself together.