It was slippery up the scree so she kept to the stone wall. She knew about north and south and following the sun, but there wasn’t one in the sky, just dark clouds. Her anorak was warm and her pockets were bulging with gloves and pound coins. If she crossed the fell to Windebank village there was a bus stop and no one would know her there.
‘Shoo, Muff! Go back home,’ she shouted. He would be a nuisance and she couldn’t afford to pay for him on the bus. The dog scampered off, then turned and followed her again. Evie turned on him in anger. ‘Go away, stupid dog! Away! ‘
The dog hobbled off with its tail tucked between his legs, obeying her command, leaving her side to roam over the empty fields, sniffing and puzzled, limping on his gammy leg. She wanted to get out of his sight, picking out the stony track she once walked with Mummy, who told her all about the Roman soldiers with bare legs and funny helmets who made this road long ago, and the big high wall made in the olden days with squiggles in the stone.
It was mean leaving Mummy behind, but if there was no Christmas at Wintergill she was going to find one at Granny’s house. She wanted decorations and twinkling lights like the Christingle in church, crackers and presents under the tree, but their stuff was all gone. There was nothing left and it wasn’t fair. She turned to see the wretched dog following her again. This time she didn’t shoo him away.
They walked for an hour until her legs were tired and she sat down and scoffed the bread bun and biscuits and drank the orange drink. The coins jangled in her pocket, and she knew it was stealing not borrowing so she couldn’t turn back now.
Ahead she could see purple hills with scarves of mist swirling round them. The wide path stretched out for miles ahead and she hoped she could find the crossroads to Bankwell and Windebank soon. If Bankwell was the nearest, she knew another path by the river.
What if she missed the bus, though? It was a long walk into town then, and her wellies were rubbing her heels. This adventure was not as much fun as she’d hoped and Muff had disappeared now on his limpy leg. It was getting a bit scary on her own.
If she turned back now she could trace her path to the old wall and go home for tea, putting the coins back in the purse and the Toby Jug and no one would know she’d been stealing.
The lane was getting bumpy and steep again. It was all taking up time. There was a steep bank hugging the side of the fell, and to cross it meant walking through stiff brown cardboard grass. Her wellies were really hurting now so she stopped to take them off. There were huge red blisters on her heels where her socks slid under her feet.
She yelled for Muffin, over and over, but he’d gone so she curled up for a rest to suck her thumb and think what to do next. She’d forgotten her wristwatch and had no idea of the time, only that she was tired and fed up of tramping on her own. When she woke from her doze she couldn’t see anything but cloud and mist. It had crept down from the hill, swallowing the grass up.
What was the best thing to do now? Tears of fear stung her eyes. If she couldn’t see the path, she’d be lost and then it would go dark and she’d be all alone and no one knew where she was. She knew it was silly to stay out in the open air. If it snowed or rained she might catch cold and go all stiff like they did in the Lassie films when she came to the rescue just in time. How she wished she’d got Muffin for company now.
She must find the high stone wall. They all joined up somewhere so if she followed the stone wall, bit by bit, she could do like the sheep did in the picture in Mrs Nora’s living room and snuggle behind it for shelter. She could make a little tent with her coat and her bag or something.
The grass was boggy so she picked her way down in the mist to a little pool of clear water, filling her bottle just in case, and found the welcome sight of a wall. She put her wellies in her bag and walked barefoot to soothe her blisters. Mummy … Mummy, I want you … she sobbed into the mist but nobody came. How could they? No one would ever find her again. Cold as she was, she kept fingering down the wall for dear life until she found a little curve with a hole built into the wall like a fairy den and she crouched down with her knees hunched up to her chin in the little shelter.
Evie was past fear, just tired and hungry as she tasted the first drops of rain. She zipped up her anorak, pulled down her fleece hat and stuffed bits of brown grass into her wellies, packing her feet in them for warmth. She found one of her gloves and stuck her wellies into the backpack. She remembered seeing that on
Blue Peter.Now she was going to miss the best
Blue Peter
of the year when they all gave each other presents. You have to keep warm, go to sleep and when morning came she’d find her way home or find somebody to help her.The darkness was all around her, tickling like black wool in her face. The rain was light but she felt the wind rushing through the stones to sing her to sleep, but she was much too afraid of the night creatures to close her eyes.
Evie started to sing all the carols she’d learned at her new school. ‘How far is it to Bethlehem?’, ‘Little donkey’, ‘Long time ago in Bethlehem’. No one would hear her growly voice up here and put her on the back row. Could Daddy hear her singing in Heaven? Did Granny know she was coming? How could she sing above the wind?
Only the White Lady who lived on the hills might hear her if she sang out loud enough. As the darkness thickened she knew Mummy would be out there searching for her. Perhaps she’d already gone to Granny’s to find her. They would think she’d gone on the bus and been stolen.
Her eyelids were dropping now but she daren’t close them, hidden as she was under the wall. The rain was turning flaky and she held out her tongue to taste the flakes but they melted in her mouth like candyfloss at the fair. It was when she leaned out of her hidy-hole that she saw the lantern swinging, flickering in the darkness like the Christingle candles, such a welcome sight. She was safe at last. Her rescuers had found her.
Fret not, sweet coz, Mama is here to seek you out. Blanche swings the lantern from side to side with bony fingers bleached by wind and rain. That which was lost is found, she smiles, and must be gathered home.
Kay was last in the bathroom. She’d fallen asleep as soon as Evie left her in peace, and woke later than planned. If she was to go into town for a tree and some gifts for the Snowdens she must get her skates on. She assumed Evie was out with Mrs Nora, getting under her feet, but when there was no sign of her there she assumed she’d taken Muffin out for a walk. Her anorak and wellies were gone from the hook. She must be out with Nora so she decided to slip into town and get on with her private shopping without a child to hamper her decisions.
It was well after lunch before she returned with all her packages, expecting Evie to bounce through Nik’s kitchen with a ‘Where’ve you been?’
She was surprised to see no anorak hanging up and went to find Nora dozing on her sofa. Evie must have tired her out. She was still weak from her flu and Kay decided not to wake her. She went in search of Nik to no avail. His van was not in the yard. The house was strangely silent with no clatter of boots on the flags. The sky glowered and the first flakes of snow fluttered past the window. Kay shivered.
She ran upstairs to see if Evie was rooting in the attic rooms but there was no sign of her and this time she burst into Nora’s lounge.
‘Where’s Evie?’
The old woman looked up in surprise. ‘Isn’t she with you? Not seen sight nor sound of her all day, come to think of it.’ Nora could see the anxiety on her face. ‘Not to worry, she’ll be out with Nik and the dogs somewhere.’
Yes, that must be it, Kay sighed. Evie would be pestering the life out of him to chop down a tree. Silly me. There’d been only one thing on her daughter’s mind all morning. ‘I’ll make us a brew,’ she smiled, and made for the kitchen when Nik strode in and kicked off his boots.
He looked under the table. ‘Where’s old Muff?’
‘Is Evie with you?’ Kay said, trying not to worry.
‘Nope,’ he replied. ‘Should she be?’
‘She was going to ask you if we could chop down a tree for the hall. I thought you’d taken her out … She’s not in the house. I haven’t seen her since first light. I’ve been to town, thinking she was with Nora but she hasn’t seen her either. Where’s she got to? It’s getting dark and beginning to snow.’ Her legs were turning to jelly. Something was wrong and nothing anyone could say would convince her otherwise.
‘Sit down,’ Nik said, pointing to the Windsor chair by the stove. ‘Tell me slowly.’ He poured the tea and shoved the mug into her hand. ‘When did you last see her?’
‘This morning at seven,’ she croaked. ‘It was still dark and I told her to let Muff out for you … Oh my God! Her anorak, the dog.’ She was searching around her mind for evidence. ‘They’ve been gone since first light!’
‘We don’t know that. I thought I saw someone on the scree. What colour is her jacket?’ Nik leaned on the stove rail, looking serious.
‘Red, pillar-box red … with a striped fleece hat and pink wellies. She chose those colours herself,’ she whispered as if it were important. Icy splinters were stabbing her gut with panic.
‘We’ll search the outbuildings first, phone around the other farms to see if she’s been spotted. She might have gone to play with one of their kids. They can be so thoughtless.’
Nik was trying to sound calm and businesslike but Kay could hear the worry in his voice, and Nora was standing in the doorway, looking ashen, holding a piece of paper in her hand. It was an unopened Christmas card with writing on the envelope.
‘I think you should read this and call the police,’ she said, her eyes glassy with concern. ‘Oh God, not again!’
Kay snatched it from her, recognising Evie’s attempt at joined-up writing: ‘Gone to find Chrismass at grannys, luv Evie.’
‘What does it mean?’ said Nik as he glanced at the message. ‘Just what it says,’ Kay replied from a place somewhere above her head. ‘We had a bit of a row this morning over Christmas. She wants Christmas and wants to go back to Sutton Coldfield … How can a child get from here to there on her own with no money?’ She felt her words were scrambling into syllables, fragmenting, shards of information floating through her mind.
‘We’ll call the police. It’s been too long already.’ Nik was already striding into the hall. Kay shut her eyes as waves of terror washed over her. Evie was out there alone on the tops and it was snowing, wandering about trying to find south while she was swanning around town oblivious to this danger. What would Social Services make of all that?
‘I’m going out to search,’ she said, jumping up for her boots and Barbour.
‘You’ll do no such thing. We don’t want two souls lost on the moor. The Cave and Mountain Rescuers will do that better than any of us,’ Nora yelled. ‘They’re trained for just such stuff. You’ll stay here with me and give the police all the details. Happen she’s tucked up somewhere in Bankwell with a friend and never got further than the main road. Even young Evie knows it’s a mighty walk back to Sutton Coldfield from here. She’s a stubborn head on her, that one, but she’s canny with it. She’ll be fine.’ But Nora’s eyes told a different story.
Nik couldn’t believe how quick the emergency response sprang into action. They were going out in the sleet with teams of volunteers and a search dog. He rubbed his eyes with weariness as the hours spun out: screech of sirens, Land Rovers with men in orange and green jackets, the local bobbies taking statements, and questions, hundreds of questions.
The Cave Rescue guys were old school mates, and suggested his knowledge of the hills was essential to their search. Then there was the question of the old dog. Surely Muff would have tramped back home, but he was lame and a slow old trooper, and could sit on trapped sheep for hours in his younger days, waiting on top of drifts until they were rescued.
Nik sifted through the snow to test the moisture. Wet snow came and went in twenty-four hours. Snow was better than a fierce easterly wind any time, for snow cocooned, cushioned and protected bodies from extremes. If the kid had sought shelter she’d be safe enough for a few more hours but she might not survive the night.
At least she was kitted out for weather better than when they had first arrived in flimsy clothes. Her school bag had gone, and food too. The coins from the jug were missing so the little minx had meant to run away. The forward planning was impressive for an eight-year-old. The last time he’d tried to run away he’d taken only an apple and his best Dinky tractor.
They combed all the outbuildings and barns. Weather was against them now but the tracker dog was sniffing out a scent up the scree to the high ground where Nik had spotted the red blob in the morning.
If only he’d bothered to follow up that sighting, but he assumed it was a trespasser. What bothered him most were those dreams and the image of the white hag on the road, who had stalked him for years. Was she a part of this? First the fire and now this, and both times a child was involved.
He shivered, knowing this was illogical nonsense, but that extra sense of danger was twitching and he knew that Evie was in danger not only from the weather but from that other unmentionable creature, that unquiet spirit. How could he even be thinking of such another dimension? Who would believe such nonsense, and yet …? He had read Agnes’s book and knew the tale of her daughter’s pram.
Nik fled to his room, shutting the door from the chaos in the kitchen to grab Agnes’s book of instructions. Suddenly he knew everything was connected in a jigsaw and he must discover how to put the pieces together. Agnes’s knowledge was the key to him being able to thwart another disaster. If only he knew how to go about it. He must read it again for clues.
The Lord gives and the Lord takes. Blessed be the name of the Lord but ‘tis not His chariot of fire that carries the prostrate child into the heavens but her cousin’s mischief. Hepzibah sighs from her vantage point in the chamber window. Alack there is no joy in this snowfall. From All Hallows to yuletide, misery will come once more. Blanche is about her business and who is to stop her?