From the front window of the house in Linden Drive, Alison was looking out into near darkness. Smears of snow lingered in corners of the garden from last night’s fall. Orange streetlamps made the empty road look bleak and lonely.
Where are you now, Nesta? What are you doing this dreary afternoon?
Alison was just about to close the curtains and shut out the cheerless scene when suddenly a police car came round the corner into their street. She watched it draw up outside the front gate and then hurried to the door.
‘What is it?’ she said anxiously as Sergeant Miller stood before her. ‘Have you heard anything?’
‘Not really, Mrs Gwynn. But we need to talk to you,’ said the policeman. ‘Can we come in?’
‘Certainly,’ said Alison.
Matthew was hurrying down the stairs, momentarily hopeful. But it was clear from everyone’s expression that nothing good had happened.
‘What we need to know,’ said Sergeant Miller as they sat down in the front room, ‘is why you were busy in the garden quite late on Thursday afternoon. I mean, it is an odd time of year and time of day to be out doing the garden. I am sure you have an explanation.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he said. ‘Of course we weren’t out doing the garden on Thursday afternoon, or any time at all on Thursday.’
‘I thought as much,’ said the policeman. ‘But you were doing something out there, and, to be honest with you, I’d be easier in my mind if I knew what it was.’
‘We really don’t understand you, Sergeant Miller,’ said Alison. ‘What would we be doing that could be of any interest to you? You are searching for our daughter. We checked the garden thoroughly on Wednesday night and again on Thursday morning. We thought she might have made herself a hiding place behind the trees, though it didn’t seem very likely.’
‘Yes,’ said the sergeant, ‘that’s what I mean. Like you, we have to explore every possible avenue, however unlikely it might appear to be. Think back now – were you in the garden at all on Thursday evening? Your neighbour thought she saw you out there. I don’t think she was being malicious or anything. She’s just an elderly woman living alone and I suppose she gets nervous.’
Then Alison realized what he was talking about and what Mrs Jolly had seen them doing: consulting the communicator by lifting the frog and calling down to the ship! Oh dear, explaining that would surely be impossible. She was struck dumb. There just wasn’t an explanation that would divert attention from the one area that needed protection. She tried hard to summon up the power that had helped her deal with Amanda’s bullying and Nesta’s shock; but the power was weakened, almost gone. As the sergeant looked into her eyes, he saw nothing there but fear and misery. The only spell was silence, and it was Matthew who broke it.
‘I remember,’ he said, giving Alison a rueful glance. ‘I remember now. We were quarrelling about whether or not to call you in to look for Nesta. I thought it was too soon. My wife was all for calling you there and then. She began to cry and ran out into the back garden. I followed her and talked her into being calm and coming back into the house.’
‘What about the blue light?’ said the sergeant. That was a startling question.
‘A tad scary,’ said Matthew, taking a deep breath. ‘I suppose it would frighten Mrs Jolly too. There was a single flash of lightning and then the heavens opened and it began to pour.’
‘So you ran back into the house?’
‘Yes, we did. And even so, we both got drenched.’
It was an explanation. Sergeant Miller was not sure that he was entirely satisfied with it. Why were they not more annoyed with their neighbour for talking about them? Indignation would have been natural.
‘We’re used to Mrs Jolly, you know,’ said Matthew as if reading the sergeant’s mind. ‘She tends to imagine things. She’s quite harmless.’
Alison offered the sergeant and his constable a cup of tea, which they accepted and sat comfortably drinking as they talked about the neighbourhood, the weather and the hope that Nesta would soon be safe.
‘No news is good news after all,’ said the sergeant, and for once he really meant it. For reasons he could not pinpoint it suddenly seemed to him that there would be no dead body at the end of this case. For reasons she could easily pinpoint, Alison shared his optimism. Some relic of the power of Ormingat was stirring in her and secretly informing her that all was not lost.
‘She’ll be home tomorrow,’ she said with confidence. ‘I feel sure she will.’
‘I hope you’re right, Mrs Gwynn,’ said the sergeant as he put his cup and saucer back on the tray and got up to leave. ‘We’ll be off now. As soon as anything happens we’ll be in touch.’
As they were getting into the car, Mrs Jolly came furtively along the road, approaching the vehicle from the offside, furthest away from the Gwynns’ gate.
‘What is it, Mrs Jolly?’ said the constable as he wound down the window.
‘They move that frog, you know,’ she said. ‘It takes the two of them to do it, but I have seen them do it before. They shift it right out on to the lawn. Not on Thursday, mind you, but it was quite dark then and not easy to see. That was something I forgot to tell you.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Jolly,’ said Sergeant Miller. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’
They drove off, leaving their informant to scuttle back to her own drive.
When they got to the main road, Sergeant Miller was troubled with second thoughts.
‘Maybe we should have checked the frog,’ he said.
‘I was wondering about that,’ said the constable.
‘And the passports,’ mused the sergeant.
‘They could do a runner overnight,’ said the constable. ‘Maybe that’s why they seemed less worried.’
‘I’ll ask for a watch on the house tonight, I think,’ said the sergeant. ‘I don’t want to go back there now. If the girl doesn’t turn up tomorrow, we’ll have to take it further. If it really is serious, it won’t be our job then.’