18. A Familiar Sinking Feeling
Chapter 18
A Familiar Sinking Feeling
‘ W e made it. A night out at the Shepherds’ Rest, just you and me.’ Matt closed the heavy door of the cottage behind him, and they were out in the crisp, cold air of a December night.
‘It was close. It was a stroke of genius to mention the long walk, and the dark,’ Amy said.
‘It’s not even going to be that dark. The half-moon gives enough light to see where we’re going, and we’ve got torches.’
‘I hope the boys aren’t too much of a handful for her,’ Amy said.
Their feet crunched through the icy puddles on the lane as they walked and their breath came out in clouds on the frosty air.
‘She hates me, doesn’t she?’ Amy said after a while.
‘No … I’m sure she doesn’t,’ Matt said, but he didn’t sound entirely convinced. ‘She’s just difficult, that’s all. And as long as she doesn’t suspect anything.’
‘I’m not sure. I think that’s why she hates me. When we were talking about James before tea she seemed a bit strange and I think she knows something’s going on. I wish we’d found time to talk to her today. Maybe when we get back?’ she suggested.
‘Maybe.’
‘We can’t put it off much longer. She’ll realise when James doesn’t turn up tomorrow,’ Amy said.
‘That’s tomorrow’s problem. For now, let’s forget all about her.’ He swept her into a long, deep kiss. A weight lifted, and she kissed him back, the frosty landscape all around them silver in the light of the moon above their heads, and the stars sharp as pinpricks in the dark velvety sky. There were some benefits to having Diane back at the cottage – without her to look after the boys they would never have been out in this winter’s night together.
‘I wish we could stay here like this forever,’ she murmured.
‘Me too. But we’ve got two whole hours – three if we’re lucky – and two hours on our own is nearly as good as forever.’
‘Such a beautiful night too. So quiet. I know it’s cold, but it’s really still and clear. Proper winter weather. I do so love it here.’
‘Me too. It’s strange, even though this is only the second time I’ve been here, it does feel like coming home.’
‘I know that’s how Mam used to feel. If it wasn’t for me, maybe it would’ve been her home. I’m glad we’ll be leaving her ashes here. It’s the right place for her. Though there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to leave her behind.’
‘You’re not really leaving her behind. She’ll always be with you.’ He put an arm around her shoulder as they continued to walk down the path. ‘We never really leave behind the ones we love.’
They walked in companionable silence for a while and listened for owls in the chilly darkness. They were so far away from any big towns or cities the night sky shimmered with stars Amy didn’t usually see with such clarity. A smudge across the heavens must be the Milky Way, and a particularly bright star hung low above the mountains at the end of the valley.
‘There’s the Christmas star guiding us to the Shepherds’ Rest,’ she said.
‘Let’s hope the star is leading the way to a Christmas dinner. Otherwise, we’ll be off to the supermarket tomorrow with half a million other people,’ said Matt.
‘She’s going to want all the trimmings as well, isn’t she? Chestnut stuffing, sprouts, three types of potato and a flaming Christmas pudding.’
‘That is how Stella did it,’ Matt said. ‘Only joking! That’s how Stella did it when her mother was coming for Christmas dinner. When it was just us, we had pigs-in-blankets, frozen peas, and roast potatoes out of a packet – not to mention chocolate puddings instead of fruit ones.’
‘Just like us.’
He stopped. ‘Don’t let Diane fool you into thinking Stella was something she wasn’t. Stella wasn’t a saint, not by any stretch of the imagination.’
‘I’m glad.’ Of course Diane was blind to her daughter’s faults – she’d loved her. Just like Amy herself sometimes excused and explained Harry’s naughtiness as an accident when occasionally – just occasionally – it really was deliberate naughtiness. ‘From what she’s been saying, I was beginning to think it’s hard to live up to Stella’s standards.’
‘Stella could be quite high maintenance sometimes,’ said Matt. ‘Just like her mother. After that, these last few months with you have been like coming home from a long, hard day at work and putting on a pair of comfortable cosy slippers. ’
‘Are you comparing our relationship to your smelly old slippers?’ she said with a grin.
‘No! To an extremely precious and comfortable pair of top of the range and exciting new … slippers …’
‘And what was Stella then? A pair of diamond studded Louboutins?’
‘Possibly. If I knew what that was.’ He shrugged and smiled.
Laughing, she scraped up some crystals of hoar frost from the top of the stone wall and tried to put it on the back of his neck, but he was too quick and dodged out of her reach, and by the time she did catch him the frost was in her hands was melting. He swung her into his arms and silenced her with another kiss. While he was distracted, she slipped what was left of the frost down the back of his jeans, causing him to flinch with the cold.
‘You little … I’m going to get you for that!’
‘Have to catch me first!’ She laughed, and they chased each other like a pair of kids down the path. When they reached the footbridge over the beck, they had to leave the field by a kissing gate, and the kissing part lasted much longer than it took them to get through the gate. By the time they got to the village they were red-cheeked from the cold and breathless from the kissing, and the lighted windows of the Shepherds’ Rest illuminated their faces. The sharp scent of woodsmoke drifted towards them on the chill, clear air and drew them towards the pub.
The heat rolled over them like a wave as they opened the door and they stripped off their coats and hats before they fought their way through the crowd of revellers to the bar. All the tables were full and people stood tightly packed at the bar so Amy and Matt squeezed through to try and get served. In a large inglenook fireplace a wood fire roared away, a contented Labrador stretched out in front of it. A shelf around the top of the room held pewter plates and tankards which reflected the flickering flames of the fire, and the dark-wood panelling glowed in the mellow light. Garlands of winter foliage hung beneath the shelves of pewter, and there was a dartboard beside the bar though it was too crowded to throw darts tonight.
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ said Amy. She couldn’t help but smile. She was here, with Matt, they boys were safe at home with Diane, and this was like a proper date night.
‘I love it here,’ he replied.’It’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. And do you know what the best thing about it is?’
‘What?’ She turned her head to hear him better, the pub was noisy with festive chatter.
‘No mobile signal. Diane can’t get hold of us even if she’s seen a spider, or Oliver’s unhappy because his pillow is too flat, or –’
‘Or Harry says a naughty word,’ Amy finished his sentence for him. ‘Bliss. I do hope they’ve got a space for Christmas dinner. We can afford it, if they have, can’t we? I know it’s quite expensive.’
Matt shrugged. ‘Let’s not worry about money today.’
The restaurant was much bigger than the Shepherds’ Bar, so Amy crossed her fingers. There were two other couples waiting to be served, and then it was Matt and Amy’s turn.
‘A pint of Shepherd’s Crook, please.’ Matt pointed to the handle for the locally brewed beer. ‘What would you like?’ He turned to Amy.
‘I’ll try the mulled cider, please.’
As the landlord was filling their glasses, Matt asked, ‘Do you have any tables for Christmas Day?’
‘No. We’ve been booked up for three or four weeks now. Popular spot, this is, for Christmas Dinner. We do a Lakeland special, you see. All the ingredients from no further than Kendal.’ He put Matt’s glass down on the bar and began to fill Amy’s. ‘Are you staying local, like?’
‘Up at Elder Fell Farm,’ Amy said.
‘So you’re the family in the Thompson’s cottage. It’s a pretty spot.’
‘That’s right. We’ve ended up with no Christmas dinner though – there was some confusion about who should bring the food.’
‘You’re in the dog-house, are you, mate?’ the landlord joked to Matt.
‘Not me, not this time.’
‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I don’t usually keep a list, but as you’re so close I’ll put you down as a reserve, in case anyone drops out. We’ve got two sittings – twelve and three o’clock, and I’ll put you down for both. How many of you will there be?’
‘Five.’
‘Grand. Have you got a phone up at that cottage of yours? Your mobiles’ll be worse than useless up there, I guess.’
‘Yes, I’ve got the landline number saved on my phone.’
‘Here. Write it in the booking diary.’ He slid a sticky hard-backed A4 diary across the bar. ‘The minute I hear of anyone having second thoughts I’ll be on the phone.’
‘What do you reckon our chances are?’ Amy looked up from writing.
‘Not bad, I’d say. There’s always someone drops out at the last minute – illness, or too much to drink the night before. Five’s a tricky number, mind, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed.’
‘Thank you.’ Matt passed the book back to him.
‘What do you reckon to our Shepherd’s Crook, then? Made at a microbrewery over in Keswick.’
‘Not bad.’ Matt took a drink. ‘How’s yours?’ He turned to Amy, as she raised her glass to her lips to take the first mouthful of the spiced cider. She never had a chance to try it. A short woman with curly grey hair appeared from a door at the back of the bar.
‘I’ve got someone on the phone asking for Matt and Amy, they’re called, from up at Elder Fell Farm Cottage,’ she announced to the crowded bar.
‘That would be us,’ Matt said. Amy felt a familiar sinking feeling and put down her drink.
‘I’ve got a lady called Diane on the phone, desperate to get hold of you. She’s tried your mobiles but they’re not working. It’s an emergency. Here.’ She passed the handset to Matt.
‘An emergency? Are the boys okay?’ Amy’s eyes widened in concern, as she listened to Matt’s side of the conversation.
‘They were nicely settled and ready to go to sleep when we left,’ Matt said to Diane. ‘Oh, I see … A hippopotamus? … Yes, I know the song and I can see that … Three chocolate biscuits each? Yes, that is a bit … and a whole bottle of Coke? Yes, they both know they shouldn’t drink that at bedtime, didn’t you try to stop them – Yes, milk would be better for them ... I see, then milk went everywhere. Have you managed to clean any of it up? … No, please don’t ring the Thompsons, I’ll sort it out later, don’t worry … The cake tin? I’m sure it’ll be somewhere … Can I speak to Oliver? … Yes, I understand … Yes, it probably would make them worse. Okay. It’ll take us about half an hour to get back.’ He rolled his eyes as he spoke. The sense of freedom, the belief that everything wa s going to be right with the world, had lasted less than an hour.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked as he handed the phone to the Landlord.
‘They asked if they could get their own supper,’ Matt said, heavily.
‘She didn’t say yes to that, did she?’
‘She did. And they’ve had three chocolate biscuits each, a whole bottle of Coke and the cake tin has mysteriously gone missing.’
‘So, they’re bouncing off the ceiling.’
‘They’re singing that daft song about the hippopotamus, they won’t stop, they’ve reduced her to tears and she can’t cope.’
‘We should’ve known better than to leave them with her – especially when they’re excited and it’s nearly Christmas. Come on, let’s get back.’ She put her glass down on the bar and picked up her coat.
‘We should …’ Matt agreed. ‘But I’m sure she can wait an extra five minutes while we finish our drinks, don’t you think?’
The night, which had been luminous as they walked down the fields, was cold and dark as they made their way back again. They were half-way up the path through the meadow below the farm, lighting the way with their torches, when they noticed something peculiar. The boys’ bedroom light flickered on and off.
‘What’s going on? Do you think there’s some kind of weird power cut? Peter Thompson did say the electricity could be dodgy. We might need that generator,’ said Matt.
‘No, I know exactly what’s going on. The boys are still awake, and they’ve seen our torches. They’re signalling to Mars, like in Winter Holiday. ’ said Amy. ‘Try a couple of flashes with your torch and see what happens.’
Matt flashed his torch a few times. The light in the boys’ bedroom went dark for a few seconds, and then there was another barrage of flashes. Matt flashed again, and so did the boys.
‘I don’t suppose you can remember any of their codes?’ he asked.
‘One flash for hello , two for goodbye . Three for my mam and your dad are making out again . Six short followed by six long meant I need a wee , but that’s all I can remember.’
‘I don’t think it’s any of those things.’
‘Just keep flashing. It’ll keep them occupied and stop them annoying Diane.’
Obligingly, Matt flashed back again, then Amy began to make out a pattern.
‘Matt, that’s three short ones, three long ones, three short ones. Isn’t that S.O.S.?’
‘It is. Do you think they mean it, or are they messing about?’
‘If it was Harry, I’d say he was messing about, but Oliver’s more sensible than that. Perhaps we’d better hurry.’ Amy tried not to let herself worry. Logically it was more than likely they were being silly. Perhaps they were expressing their unhappiness that Diane had sent them to their room in the form of Norse code , but there was always a possibility there was something really wrong.
She didn’t want to think about that. Ever since her mam had died so unexpectedly, she’d been more prone to worrying. Before that she’d been placid, calm, accepting, always trusting things would work out for the best, but the shock of her mam’s tragic death had changed all that. Now an unexpected knock at the door made her panic, the sound of a police car in the distance was a portent of doom, and two small boys flashing an S.O.S. in the darkness of a winter night was unsettling.
Then the lights in the window suddenly went off altogether and the bedroom was in darkness.