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<title>Chapter 36</title>
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<h2>36</h2>
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<p>Julia came downstairs, towelling her hair briskly. Her dressing
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gown was wrapped tightly and cinched at her waist, accentuating her
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slimness, though the huge black and white slippers with the Snoopy
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faces on them just looked ridiculous. They'd been one of the
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birthday gifts from Jack who had obviously taken David with him
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when he'd bought them.</p>
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<p>She pushed open the living room door, expecting the usual
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barrage of noise from the television and was pleasantly surprised
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to find it was turned off. David was nowhere to be seen. He'd even
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put away his winter jacket which had been slung over the back of a
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chair. She still had the after-bath glow, an almost lethargic sense
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of cleanliness and well being as she moved into the kitchen.
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Normally at this time of night, the surface next to the cooker
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would be a mess of crumbs and jam-splatters from his enthusiastic
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attempts at making his own supper, but the place was clean. She
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poured some milk into a cup and put it into the micro, pressed the
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setting for two minutes, and fished the jar of cocoa down from an
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overhead shelf. Her hair, still slightly damp, clung to her temples
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in a dark mop of ringlets. Julia absently draped the towel over the
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radiator.</p>
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<p>From the kitchen doorway, she called upstairs.</p>
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<p>There was no reply. Julia walked down the narrow hallway and
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turned up the flight, her ludicrous slippers scuffing on the edges
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of the treads. Jack had bought David a little personal stereo and a
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handful of story-teller tapes which the seven-year-old favoured
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instead of books, though she knew this would probably change. He
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was probably up in his room with the earphones on and the sound up
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to full volume. She got to the top of the stairs, turned past the
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bathroom which still smelt of bath oil and warm water, pushed open
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David's bedroom door and stopped dead.</p>
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<p>The room was empty.</p>
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<p>Julia's heart did a slow and easy flip, like a sleeper turning
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over in bed.</p>
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<p>The coverlet on the bed was still stretched up over the pillows
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and a scattering of toys, most of them grotesque robotic things
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depicting characters from the last science fiction romp he'd seen
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with Jack at the cinema, lay in a cluttered heap on the floor. The
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little stereo was on the shelf over the bed, neat headphones
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dangling down like a futuristic wishbone.</p>
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<p>She crossed quickly to the closet and pulled the door open.
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David's jacket was not there.</p>
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<p>Her heart flopped again, squeezing inside her chest as if
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gripped by a cold hand. Julia backed away, taking two slow steps,
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then spun quickly and almost ran out of the room. She pushed her
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way into her own bedroom and swept her eyes round. He wasn't there.
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She got to the top of the steps and whirled herself round on the
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newel post, descending so quickly one of her slippers came off and
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tumbled behind her. She jerked open the cupboard door under the
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stairs, flicking on the light with her free hand. A jumble of
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brushes and mops stood silently.</p>
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<p>For the first time since she'd stood at the bottom of the
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stairs, Julia called out again. Her voice bounced back towards her
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from the tall wall at the top of the stairs. There was no
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reply.</p>
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<p>Panic lurched drunkenly and the bathtime legacy of lethargy
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simply disappeared.</p>
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<p>"David!" she yelled again. His name faded away. For a second,
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she thought he might be hiding, behind the settee, under the table.
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No. He was gone.</p>
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<p>Julia strode to the window and yanked the curtain aside. In the
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glow of the street lamp outside, she could see the ice particles
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swirl in the rising breeze. She checked under the table again where
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she'd last seen his shoes. They were gone too.</p>
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<p>She sat down heavily, one hand going automatically to her
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forehead where a tension headache was already beginning to pulse
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above her left eye.</p>
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<p><em>He must have followed Jack.</em></p>
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<p>As soon as that thought came, indignation piled itself on top of
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the panic.</p>
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<p>How <em>dare</em> he, she hissed aloud between gritted teeth,
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motherly anger bubbling up inside. She'd told him a million times,
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since he was old enough to understand, that he must never ever go
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out of the house without first letting her know. Now he'd slipped
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on his shoes and his heavy jacket and followed Jack out into the
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night. She didn't know why, but she'd find out as soon as her
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brother brought the boy back, and then she'd tan his hide good and
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proper. Even as she thought that, the idea of the small boy out in
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the dark on a winter's night in Levenford made her heart thump
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heavily again and her instant motherly wrath winked out.</p>
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<p>David was out there in the dark. He was out there alone, a
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seven-year-old boy on his own. While whatever was stalking and
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hunting children in Levenford might be out there with him.</p>
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<p>Julia's stomach clenched so tightly she thought she was going to
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be sick. She gulped back against the gagging sensation and reached
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the phone in three strides, snatching up the receiver even as she
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began to stab at the buttons.</p>
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<p>The earpiece clicked as the numbers registered, then burbled
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softly as Julia stood, shifting her weight from foot to foot.</p>
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<p>"Come on, Jack," she bawled into the thing. "Please pick it
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up."</p>
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<p>It rang softly, double chirrups overlain by static. Her thoughts
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were racing ahead. Had he gone to Jack's house? Of course he must
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have. She tried to recall whether her brother had the car with him,
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whether she'd heard the engine start up, or the door slam, but
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nothing came.</p>
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<p>Meanwhile the earpiece was purring insistently in her ear. If
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he'd been at home, he'd have picked it up by now.</p>
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<p>Julia's heart did another lurch as the next thought hit her like
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the night mail-train. If Jack wasn't at home, then where was
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David?</p>
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<p>She dropped the receiver with a clatter and sat down heavily on
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the arm of the chair. All the strength just drained out of her in
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that one moment. Her mind was a whirl as the panic gripped at her.
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She put two hands up to her temples, pressing hard, trying to make
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the unwelcome thoughts stop, striving to clear her mind and think.
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Finally all the wheeling pictures in her mind slowed down, ground
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to a halt and she concentrated. It took only a second to decide
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what to do. She grabbed the phone again, dialled the station
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number. Bobby Thomson recognised her voice as soon as she spoke and
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started to say something.</p>
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<p>"No time Bobby," she snapped at him. "I have to speak to Jack
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right away."</p>
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<p>"Sorry Julia, he's not in yet."</p>
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<p>"I thought he was coming straight to the station," she said. A
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wild whoop of hope surged inside. Maybe Jack was on his way back to
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the house with David shivering and shamefaced in the back seat.
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Jack would have torn him up for being out of the house alone. He
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was more paranoid about the killer, the one they were calling the
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Shrike than anybody. Even as the hope flared it died. He lived only
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two minutes away by car. He wouldn't have stopped to read the boy
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the riot act. He'd have brought him straight back, and
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<em>then</em> kicked his backside good and proper.</p>
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<p>"I can give you John McColl," Bobby offered.</p>
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<p>"Sure, but when Jack comes in, tell him to call me right
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away."</p>
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<p>The phone clicked. A gruff voice spoke into her ear.</p>
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<p>"Operations."</p>
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<p>"John? Julia."</p>
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<p>"Who?"</p>
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<p>"Jack's sister."</p>
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<p>"Oh, hello. Haven't seen you in a while."</p>
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<p>"Sorry John. I don't have any time. Any idea where Jack is?"</p>
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<p>"No. He said he'd be in later, but I don't know how late. He's
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out with the search teams at the moment, I imagine."</p>
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<p>"Well. I have to speak to him right away. Can you contact him
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and get him to call me?"</p>
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<p>"Sure," John promised. "I'll give him a shout on the radio.
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He'll get back in a couple of minutes."</p>
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<p>Julia thanked him and hung up. She dropped the phone and went
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striding in her now-bare feet through the hallway and snatched her
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coat out from the cupboard next to the kitchen. Her old gardening
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shoes were lying on their edges and she shucked them on, ignoring
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the sandy grit rasping against her soles. She belted the coat
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tightly over her dressing gown and opened the front door, about to
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step out when she stopped.</p>
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<p>The smirr of ice-dust, too fine to be called snow, had frosted
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the front step and dusted the flagstones leading down to the gate
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at the bottom of the garden. The cleated imprints of Jack's shoes
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were clearly delineated on the flat surface, a single trail of wide
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exclamation marks, but they were the only footprints there. David
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hadn't gone this way. Immediately she realised what had happened
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and dashed for the back door. As soon as it swung open, and the
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outside light came on, the evidence leapt at her. David's prints,
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the zig-zag soles puckering up the spindrift angled down the steps
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and across the drying green towards the rockery in the far
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corner.</p>
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<p>Julia's stomach clenched again. He'd taken the short cut through
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the trees. Without stopping, she ran across the short grass, not
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even hearing the crackle of the frosted grass underfoot, leapt up
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on the rockery and clambered over the fence. She knew the routes
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the children took, though it was less easy for her to squeeze
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through the gap in the privet hedge. As she pushed her way through
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the cold foliage, she cursed herself for a fool. She should have
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told somebody, Bobby Thomson or John McColl, that David had gone
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round to Jack's place. She should have got one of the patrol cars
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up here to look for him. She'd left the house with only a coat, no
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flashlight, nothing of any use in the trees. She hadn't even told
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either of the policeman that she needed Jack to call back
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immediately, and even if he did, there would be no reply. Julia
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debated going back to the house and calling the station again, but
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then mother instinct took over. Her son was out in the belt of
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trees. Maybe he'd gone beyond them and reached Jack's place. She
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wanted to find him <em>now</em> before he took another step.</p>
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<p>She made it through the hedge and took the few steps it needed
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to reach the belt of trees. As soon as the branches overhead loomed
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dark, cutting out the faint glimmer of the stars, she started
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calling her son's name.</p>
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<p>Up above, the wind plucked at the twigs and pine needles and the
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few dry leaves left clinging to the fine branchlets of the beech
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trees, sending their whispery paper rustle down to her and the
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darkness closed in.</p>
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<p>There was no reply. Julia stumbled on, her heart now thudding
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hard enough to make breathing difficult.</p>
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<p>"David," she shouted at the top of her voice. Behind her, just
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out of vision beyond the edge of the trees, a light came on in a
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house, sending a faint glow of illumination and sharpening the
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shadows. Far off to the right, up Cargill Farm Road, a dog barked
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throatily. Julia ploughed on, ignoring the brambles which snatched
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and tugged at her bare legs, beating her way between the trees. A
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few yards further in, the faint glow from the house faded to
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nothing and she was walking in darkness, panic fluttering inside
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her, clogging her throat, rasping her breath. She reached the small
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clearing in the middle of the barwood, but now the darkness was so
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intense that she could see nothing. She blundered on, hands held up
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in front of her face, towards the old root-fan of the fallen
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tree.</p>
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<p>Behind her, the wind moved the joining branches and they
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screamed loudly in frictive protest. The noise was so sudden and
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unexpected, so eerily <em>human</em> that Julia jerked around,
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still walking. She did not see the deep pit left by the ripping
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roots of the fallen tree and she simply crashed over the edge in a
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dizzying tumble. She landed with such force all the breath was
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punched out of her lungs. Something sharp speared her on the hip
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and an awful pain ripped across her pelvis. She bounced, rolling
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forward and in the dark, something hit against her forehead with a
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sickening crack. The dark broke up into a spangle of flashing blue
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lights. David's face wavered among them and she tried to call out
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to him, but then he faded away and the lights went out and Julia
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felt herself fall slowly into oblivion.</p>
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<p>On the other side of the river, Jack was about to start the
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engine again when the radio coughed. He thumbed it on, gave his
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call sign and John McColl's voice tried to break through the heavy
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static. Jack heard the words sister and call, but little else. He
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asked John to repeat it. There was a flare of interference then the
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sergeant came back, a little more strongly.</p>
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<p>"Julia wants you to give her a bell. Sounded important."</p>
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<p>"Can't do it right now," Jack said. "I'm heading over the bridge
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onto River Street. I've got an idea, so tell Ralph to wait for my
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call. Give Julia a ring and see what she wants."</p>
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<p>Jack didn't know if using Lorna would work, but he had an odd
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feeling of anticipation, and exhilaration, as if <em>something</em>
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was getting ready to happen. Overhead, up in the murk, the clouds
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were gathering, whipped in on the thundery low pressure that was
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playing havoc with the radio, and despite the deep chill, there was
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a tension in the air.</p>
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<p>"What's your intended route?" John asked.</p>
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<p>"No details as yet. I'll come back first chance." He clicked the
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radio and the static died. The engine coughed then ran smooth. He
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pulled out and drove over the bridge. They turned right along River
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Street, as Jack had said. Lorna sat silent, fingers curved and
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pressed against her temples. Her eyes were closed. Every now and
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again, Jack would glance across at her, and when they passed under
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the overhead street lights, her face, in the brief flash was tight
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with concentration.</p>
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<p>They travelled a hundred yards or so when Lorna's head snapped
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upwards. Jack eased the brake down and stopped.</p>
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<p>"Something," she said. "I felt something."</p>
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<p>"Like what?"</p>
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<p>"I don't know. Just a bad feeling. We're close, but it doesn't
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feel right."</p>
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<p>She peered out through the windscreen, shading her eye against
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the lamplight, eyes screwed up, then she shook her head. Jack
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prepared to pull out again when she turned and looked over her
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shoulder. He looked towards her and saw her eyes widen.</p>
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<p>"There," she said, pointing out of his window. He turned and
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followed the direction of her finger.</p>
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<p>Cairn House loomed taller than the rest of the buildings, a
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great, gray and worn facade, with the maw of Boat Pend a dark
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tunnel running through its centre at ground level. No lights shone
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from the tall and narrow windows.</p>
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<p>"In there?" Jack asked, feeling the anticipation wind up
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inside.</p>
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<p>"No," she stated flatly. "Just a bad feeling. That's where it
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came in. Something terrible happened in that house. Many terrible
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things, from long ago."</p>
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<p>"That's where Marta Herkik died. Cairn House."</p>
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<p>"She should have left it alone," Lorna said in a surprisingly
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hard voice. "And they should knock that place down. It's like a
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sponge. All the badness is soaked up in there. That's why it was
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able to come in."</p>
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<p>"From where?"</p>
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<p>"From somewhere worse. That place is an abomination. It's an
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evil house. I can feel the badness, like leprosy. Like a cancer.
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They should burn it to the ground."</p>
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<p>"Maybe another time. Should I go in and look?"</p>
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<p>Lorna started back. "Don't go in there," she said, voice sharp.
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"Not ever."</p>
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<p>"I mean, should I call in the reserves and search the
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place?"</p>
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<p>She shook her head. "It's not in there. I would know."</p>
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<p>"Sure?"</p>
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<p>She nodded slowly and sat back out of the light. Her eyes were
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like pits in the shadow.</p>
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<p>He pulled out on the quiet street and started along. Just past
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the bakery where young Graham Friel had been dragged to the roof by
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the thing that whispered inside his head, a patrol car passed by,
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driving slowly. The driver flicked his lights in recognition and
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moved on past. There were no pedestrians.</p>
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<p>They continued to the cross and turned left up Kirk Street,
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heading past the masonic temple and on towards the town hall. At
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the turn, they passed the church steeple where John McColl had
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gazed up at the flapping body of Lisa Corbett, and Lorna shuddered
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as a bleak picture flashed into her head and faded. Another shiver
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rippled through her as they slowly moved past the masonic hall, but
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this time there was no image, just a sense of foulness and rot. She
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turned her head away, feeling sick. Jack drove on.</p>
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<p>-----</p>
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<p>Pain was hammering into the centre of Julia's forehead. It
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seemed to drive through her brain and ricochet from the back of her
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skull. She twisted, not knowing where she was, and the movement
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caused her to roll further into the hole. Something sharp twisted
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against her pelvis and a glassy agony sang in her hip.</p>
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<p>The movement cranked up the pain in her head and again little
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orbiting lights flickered and danced in her vision, though it was
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so dark she couldn't tell if her eyes were open. For a long moment,
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she was completely confused. Thick nausea stirred at the back of
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her head, just above her neck. She turned and the pain in her hip
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corkscrewed viciously, launching a squeal from her open mouth.
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Dopily she wondered what had happened, why she was lying wherever
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she was and why the pain was so bad. She raised herself up on both
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hands, feeling her palms press against jagged splinters of wood.
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The pain flared again in her hip, so fierce that a while light
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seemed to flash inside her head, then something pulled free with a
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revolting wrench that came from right inside her.</p>
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<p><em>David.</em></p>
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<p>His face danced across the forefront of her mind and for a
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second the pain vanished.</p>
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<p><em>Something wrong. Something</em> wrong!</p>
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<p>Something about David. She clawed for it, fought against the
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dizziness and nausea and the cloud of oblivion that was trying to
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billow over her.</p>
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<p><em>Gone.</em></p>
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<p>And it all came back in a lightning flash. She'd followed him
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through the trees because...because he'd <em>gone</em>.</p>
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<p>She remembered stumbling through the undergrowth, hands up in
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case she bumped into a sharp branch, and then she'd fallen.</p>
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<p>How long ago? She tried to think, tried to force back the
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terrible hurt in her side that came sweeping back in a red rip
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tide. Seconds? Minutes? Hours?</p>
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<p>Julia cried out aloud, against the pain and against the sudden
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and terrible dread.</p>
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<p>He could have been gone for hours. The thought got her onto her
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feet. The darkness spun around her, shapes and shadows fluttered in
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front of her eyes and she took a step forward. Wet warmth drained
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down her thigh as she clambered up the ridge of frozen earth,
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panting for breath. She made it over the lip and stumbled forward.
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Something hard hit against her side and the pain there blossomed
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like a poisonous orchid. She bit against it, breath hissing between
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her teeth, too scared to stall, too desperate to faint. She did not
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know how long it took to reach the edge of the barwood, fighting
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the exhaustion and pain and sick apprehension. At the privet hedge,
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she stopped, close to collapse, panting like an exhausted animal.
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The wet had now soaked into her shoe, making a soft squelching
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sound with every step. She dragged herself through, made it to the
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back door of the nearest house, crawled up the stairs and when she
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banged on the door, she didn't even realise she was screaming at
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the top of her voice.</p>
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<p>Old Miss Loch, who made cakes for the local youngsters, but went
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into an apoplectic rage if she caught them using her herb garden as
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a short-cut, opened the door just as the lights were beginning to
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come on above the doors of the houses nearby.</p>
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<p>"Whatever's the matter?" she asked tremulously, easing the door
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a fraction, peering over the safety chain.</p>
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<p>"Help me," Julia blurted. "Oh, please. I have to get to a
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phone."</p>
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<p>The old woman, hair done up in bright pink rollers, squinted
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down at the woman on the stone steps. She seemed about to close the
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door again, then she recognised Julia. She undid the chain and came
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out, reaching to help her up.</p>
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<p>"What's happened? Are you hurt?"</p>
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<p>Julia lurched against her and smeared the old woman's nightdress
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with a vivid splash of blood. Miss Loch jerked back, aghast.</p>
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<p>"Oh my!" she gasped, planting a hand on her flat chest.</p>
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<p>"Phone," Julia mumbled, pushing past through the kitchen. She
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got to the hall, where the telephone sat on a neat doily on a small
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occasional table and fell to her knees. Despite the pain, she
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called Jack's office. John McColl picked it up on third ring.</p>
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