Chapter Twenty-Five
The light in Mandy’s bedroom when she dragged herself out of bed in the morning was a strange shade of pewter. Opening the curtains, she gazed at the scene outside. The snowstorm had arrived overnight. The orchard and the rescue centre were enveloped in whirling flakes. The sky seemed far away and somehow both white and black at the same time. Beyond the hedge, the fellside stretched away, a white counterpane reaching into an invisible sky.
Emily and Adam had been horrified to hear about the graffiti when Mandy had returned from Lamb’s Wood Cottage. It had been a relief that she could share everything with them, now that her mum was on the mend. But Mandy wasn’t a child any more: her parents were still wonderful people, but she couldn’t rely on them to make everything right. She had to figure out who hated her with such a passion, and why.
Sky had followed her over to the window. She seemed to sense Mandy’s anxiety and was staying very close. They walked down the stairs together and headed into the kitchen. Snow had gathered on the ledge outside the window and when Mandy opened the door, a small avalanche tumbled onto the doormat. Mandy kicked the snow back outside and cleared the doorstep before stepping into the drift.
Sky seemed puzzled by the snow at first, snapping at the spiralling flakes as if it was some huge game. Her fluffy coat looked like it had been dusted with icing sugar by the time she followed Mandy into the rescue centre. Mandy took Birch and Flame from their kennels. Birch was still underweight so Mandy put a fluorescent coat on the little dog, both to keep her warm and to ensure she was visible in the deepening snow.
As soon as they were released in the orchard, Flame and Sky raced away from Mandy, chasing round and round the paddock with spurts of snow flying up from their paws. Birch seemed equally enthusiastic about the strange white stuff, though for most of the time, she could only take flying leaps with her short legs. She cleared the snow in short bursts, sinking in past her elbows, then bounding forwards again. Flame stopped beside her little friend on every circuit, pausing to lick Birch’s head before zooming off again. After only a few minutes, Birch struggled back to Mandy, who took her back inside and dried her fur before putting her back in her warm kennel. Despite her doubts, Mandy had already received a couple of expressions of interest about rehoming Birch and Flame together. She felt a glow of satisfaction as she thought of the odd pair spending the rest of their lives together.
The cats seemed comfortable in their lovely warm room. Mandy checked the thermostat, moving it up a notch with a burst of gratitude to her parents for their generosity. Thanks to them, the animal housing was warm and easy to heat. The original wooden structures she had planned would have been far less sophisticated, and a real challenge in this extreme weather.
Despite the frenzied happiness of the dogs, Mandy couldn’t shake the heavy feeling from her chest. With her invisible enemy still raging, was she going to have to turn Hope Meadows into a fortress? There were locks now on all the windows. Adam had insisted on fitting them as soon as the attacks had begun to look more serious. Mandy was glad of them, but she was starting to check them obsessively. It felt so strange to be worrying about someone trying to get in, rather than the usual concerns about the animals getting out. She couldn’t help hoping, as she checked the tiny window in the toilet, that whoever it was that was carrying out these attacks would reveal him or herself soon. She hated the feeling of being watched from the shadows by someone she could not see.
‘It’s quiet this morning,’ Helen declared as Mandy walked into the clinic. ‘So many people have cancelled, there’s almost nobody left.’ Mandy couldn’t blame them. Most of the appointments were non-urgent anyway. They could be rescheduled when the roads were clear.
‘I think it’s time to clean out the cupboards,’ the nurse announced. Mandy smiled. Helen would never take advantage of an empty schedule to relax. Mandy decided to help her. Too much time doing nothing just fed the troubling thoughts inside her head.
When the door clicked open twenty minutes later, both Mandy and Helen were up to their elbows in soapy water. Pulling her head out of the cabinet she had been scrubbing, Mandy dropped her cloth into the bucket and walked through into reception.
Susan Collins was standing at the desk, ashen-faced and clutching a pair of gloves.
‘Susan! What’s wrong?’ Mandy asked. ‘Is it Marmalade?’ Susan’s cat had been in a few times, but never for anything serious.
Susan shook her head. There was fear in her eyes. ‘Is Jack here?’
She must have known the answer would be no. If Jack had turned up on his own, Mandy would have called Susan immediately. Mandy could see her friend was on the edge of a terror she didn’t want to face. ‘What’s happened?’ she prompted gently.
‘He’s gone missing from nursery. Someone left the gate open. I know he loves it here. I thought he might have come to see you.’
Susan’s eyes were pleading, but Mandy could only shake her head. ‘He hasn’t been here. Is there anything we can do?’
Susan swallowed. ‘Can you come and help look for him?’ she begged. Her voice was high and quavering. ‘There are loads of people searching, but he knows you.’ Tears welled in her eyes and started to run down her cheeks, but Susan didn’t seem to notice.
Mandy was already pulling on her coat and boots. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Susan was going through, but she would do whatever she could to help. ‘Helen will stay here in case he turns up,’ she told Susan. The nurse had appeared behind her, then vanished again. ‘Where have you already looked? Where would he go?’
Susan took a deep breath. ‘There are people all over the village,’ she said. ‘But no one out this way. I’m worried he might have gone looking for reindeer with all the snow. He’s been going on and on about hunting for them. It was just meant to be a bit of fun …’ She stopped for a moment, her face stricken. ‘Please can you … and if anyone else could …’ she trailed off. She was shaking from head to foot and her tears were starting to stain her snow-flecked coat.
Helen bustled into the room brandishing two chocolate bars, handing one to Mandy, one to Susan. ‘For when you find him,’ she explained, handing them over. ‘Susan, can I get you a hot drink …’ But the terrified mother had thanked her for the chocolate and was already rushing out of the door.
Helen reached out and squeezed Mandy’s arm. ‘I’ll call Seb, in case he’s out this way,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about a thing here. I’ll let your parents know what’s going on. Just find that little boy, okay?’
Mandy nodded, unable to speak. She followed Susan outside. The snow was falling thicker than ever, swallowing up the countryside. Mandy hoped that Jack would turn up somewhere safe and sound in a cosy little hiding spot. If he was out in this, it didn’t bear thinking about.
Susan had run back down the drive to the road, and Mandy could see her woollen hat bobbing along on the other side of the hedge, heading to the village. Much as she wanted to stay close to her friend and support her, Mandy figured she would be better off striking out on her own, to cover the greatest distance.
Where to look first, she wondered? Was there any chance Jack could have found his way here without her noticing? She walked along the drive and turned up the lane, peering over the gate into the paddock. There was no sign of Jack in the donkey field. Pulling her mobile from her pocket, she dialled the Animal Ark number.
‘Helen,’ she said, when the nurse answered the call, ‘could you have a quick look in the donkey shelter and the far side of the rescue centre, please? Give me a shout if you find him.’
‘Will do.’ The phone went dead. Helen never wasted any time.
Mandy was alone in the lane. The tarmac was blanketed in snow, and there were no footprints, no tyre tracks. No indication anyone had been this way at all.
She would walk up the lane away from the village, Mandy decided. She could see if anyone from the outlying cottages had seen him. Twenty minutes later, she had drawn a blank. Gran and Grandad were away visiting friends overnight. There was no way they would come back until the weather had cleared. There had been no reply in Jasmine Cottage and Mrs Jackson, who answered the door of Rose Cottage, had not seen him. Mandy had spent a couple of wasted minutes convincing Mrs Jackson, who was suffering from a heavy cold, to go inside and get back to bed. Further up the lane, she could see Manor Farm in the distance. She would walk as far as the gate that led onto the fell. If the gate was closed, she would retrace her steps and search on the other side of Main Street.
Despite being fit, it was tough going through the drifts. Though she was wearing walking boots and gaiters, in some areas the snow was so deep it came up to her knees, clinging to her legs like a dead weight. Mandy started sweating inside her heavy coat, and she pushed lank pieces of hair out of her eyes. The lane was eerily silent apart from the sound of her breathing. She stopped in the shelter of the hedge to stamp the snow off her gaiters, and realised that the flakes, which had been falling thick and fast, had slowed. A few wisps hung in the air, but the dense clouds had lifted, revealing the distant peaks against a pale sky. Mandy loved the fells in every season. She loved their space and the sense of freedom they gave her. In the snow, they had a beautiful austerity. But today they seemed threatening. A vast empty wilderness. If Jack was out there, how would they ever find him?
Mandy was almost at the gate to the main path. Another few steps and she would be there. It seemed to be closed, but she decided to go right up to check.
As she reached the gate, she saw something that chilled her to the bone. There, caught in the hedge, almost but not completely covered by snow, hung a small blue mitten. Pictures filled her mind: Jack Collins, standing in the paddock playing with two baby donkeys. Jack, with his sweet red wellingtons and woolly blue mittens, talking about reindeer. ‘Do you think they might be out on the moor, Mummy?’ Mandy felt sick.
She decided to do what she should have done right at the start, when Susan first showed up. She would phone Jimmy: call out the mountain rescue team and their dogs. If Jack had any chance of survival, it was down to them. Her fingers shaking, she dragged off her right glove and pulled her mobile from her pocket.
Jimmy answered the phone at once. ‘Mandy?’ His voice sounded the same as ever.
‘Hi Jimmy. I’m calling for Susan Collins.’ Mandy spoke as clearly as she could, convinced Jimmy would hear her heart thudding. ‘Her three-year-old son Jack has gone missing. I’ve found one of his gloves at the moor gate. The one that leads off from Manor Farm Lane.’
‘The moor gate on Manor Farm Lane.’ He repeated the words back to her, loud and clear.
‘We need the mountain rescue team,’ Mandy stated. ‘Can you come?’
‘I’ll call the others.’ Jimmy’s voice was reassuring. ‘Jared Boone is helping with an accident on Walton Road. They’ll join us as soon as possible. Are you still at the gate? I’ll come straight there.’ He rang off.
Mandy stood for a moment, the phone in her hand. Jimmy was on his way. Despite everything that had happened, she felt a sense of relief. Jimmy had sounded so calm and organised. If anyone could find Jack, it was him. She looked again at the tiny glove. She could make a start by opening the gate. It was a barred wooden gate which rested on the ground due to old hinges and rain-swollen spars. Not easy to open, even in summer. If Jack had come this way, he must have climbed it. Standing right beside it, Mandy peered over and studied the ground. Was there a slight indentation where little wellies might have landed? Regardless, the gate would be better opened for the dogs to go through safely. Unhooking the string that was looped around the post at the end, Mandy tried to shove the gate open, but it wouldn’t budge. Climbing over, she began to kick the thick snow out of the way. By the time she had the gate open far enough to admit a dog, Jimmy’s Jeep was coming up the lane. Climbing out, he grabbed a rucksack from the seat beside him then went round to unclip the dogs.
‘Thanks for coming,’ she said. How good it was to see him and he smiled his old smile for a moment as the dogs rushed over to greet her. Zoe, his husky and Simba, his German Shepherd, trotted at his heels, each wearing a bright orange waterproof jacket bearing the mountain rescue logo.
‘What was it you found?’ Jimmy wasted no time with unnecessary chat, but his voice was kind.
‘His mitten is on the bush there.’ Mandy pointed. ‘I didn’t touch it.’
Jimmy went over and pulled the mitten down. He offered it to Zoe to sniff. ‘It’s a bit of a long shot,’ he said to Mandy. ‘Too much snow, but Zoe’s a good trailing dog.’ Zoe pricked her beautiful silver ears as she sniffed at the tiny mitten. Jimmy had her on a halter. Once she had inhaled the scent of the mitten, Zoe put her nose to the surface of the snow, searching for the trail. She cast about, turning her body this way and that, but she didn’t seem to be having much success.
In contrast to Zoe, Simba was not on a lead. ‘Go on, Simba,’ Jimmy urged. ‘Simba’s trained to air-scent,’ he explained. ‘She’ll home in on any human scent she can detect.’
Suddenly Simba slipped through the open gate and started to plunge into the snow. Her tail left a faint line behind her, and her long legs made light work of the drifts. Unlike Zoe, whose nose was to the ground, Simba’s head was at normal height. She zig-zagged up the fellside, a slim black and brown shape in her high-viz coat. Mandy marvelled at the ability of a dog to pick up scent molecules from the air.
Following the dogs, Mandy and Jimmy ploughed up the path, pausing frequently to call Jack’s name into the echoing whiteness. Every time they stood still, straining to listen, but there was no reply.
The trail led across the shoulder of the fell, plunging into drifts and climbing slopes that were almost sheer. It was heavy going and Mandy could feel herself turning scarlet, but there was no way she was going to slow down. Beside her, she could hear Jimmy breathing hard but his face was determined and his eyes were fixed on Simba as if he was sending her on with the strength of his will.
Simba stayed ahead of them, barely slowed by the deepest drifts. Zoe ran a few paces behind, nose to the ground, occasionally circling around as if Jack had lost his way for a moment. That’s if we have picked up Jack’s trail, Mandy thought grimly. The scent on the mitten would have been very faint after being left in the wet hedge, and how much could Zoe detect from the ground when it was buried by snow?
While she was pondering, Mandy suddenly lost her footing and landed waist-deep in a hidden cleft. Jimmy grabbed her wrist, then took her hand helping her gently back to her feet. His green eyes met hers, and she was conscious of the closeness of his warm, solid body.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
Breathless, Mandy nodded. Jimmy released her hand and turned back to the trail. Simba had disappeared into a spiky copse of bare trees. Mandy peered between the trunks, then suddenly Simba was back, running straight towards them, ears pricked, tongue lolling out. She raced to Jimmy and barked twice.
‘Show me,’ Jimmy told her, and the beautiful Shepherd turned and began to hurtle back up towards the trees. ‘She’s found something,’ Jimmy panted to Mandy as side by side they rushed up the hill.
By the time they reached the trees, Simba was lying beside a large snow-covered rock, overhung by a stunted birch tree. As Mandy approached, a cleft opened up between the rock and the gnarled silver trunk. The hole was squarish and lined with crumbling timber, and Mandy guessed it had once been the entrance to an old mine. Oh god, Jack. What have you done?
‘Show me?’ Jimmy spoke again to Simba, who barked just once.
‘Someone’s down there,’ Jimmy told Mandy. ‘Can’t be sure it’s Jack, but we’re going to have to take a look.’ Removing his backpack, he pulled out a torch. Mandy stared down at the gap in the snow in alarm. The edges of the hole were uneven and treacherous. It was impossible to see where the rocks were solid and where the snow had formed a fragile overhang with nothing underneath.
Seemingly oblivious to the cold, Jimmy lay down, shining the powerful torch into the abyss.
‘Looks like an old mineshaft.’ He twisted his head to look up at Mandy. ‘I thought I knew where all of them were on this part of the fell, but I didn’t know about this one.’
‘So what do we do?’ Mandy was starting to feel strangely numb, as if this was all just a dream and any minute now she and Jimmy would plunge into the hole like Alice in Wonderland. She lay down beside Jimmy, sinking into the snow. The freezing chill stung, whisking her back to reality. If she was cold, what must it be like for whoever was in the hole? And how far down did it reach? Had Jack fallen?
‘We can’t wait for the rest of the team,’ Jimmy said, flicking off the torch, rolling over and standing up. ‘I’m going to have to go in.’