The phone rang in the Gwynn house for the second time that night.
This time the call was successful. Matthew picked up the receiver. Alison was in the bathroom, running a bath. The policeman was downstairs dozing.
‘Nesta?’ said Matthew eagerly. The one thing that could ease the pain of losing Ormingat would be to hear his daughter speaking to him and assuring him that she was safe.
‘Is that Mr Gwynn?’ said the voice at the other end.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘Yes, and who are you?’
His eyes began to gather human tears and his very human heart felt near breaking. All of his emotions were suddenly in conflict. Ormingat, oh Ormingat!
‘Are you alone?’ said the voice, a woman’s voice, sounding cautious rather than threatening. ‘No policemen there?’
‘Not here in this room,’ said Matthew. Now Alison was at his shoulder, waiting anxiously to know who was speaking. ‘There’s only myself and my wife.’
‘So no one else can hear me?’ the voice insisted.
‘What is it, Mattie?’ said Alison impatiently. ‘Who are you talking to?’
‘I don’t know yet,’ said Matthew. ‘She hasn’t said. She just wants to know that no one else can hear us.’
Alison put out her hand for the phone and Matthew allowed her to take it.
‘Who are you?’ she said firmly. ‘And what do you want?’
‘Mrs Gwynn?’ said the voice.
‘Yes,’ said Alison. ‘Now please tell me who you are and why you are ringing here at this time in the morning.’
‘I am sorry, Mrs Gwynn,’ said Stella, ‘but for all our sakes I have to be careful. The first thing I want you to know is that Nesta is safe and sound and will be travelling home at first light. I shall bring her myself. You will know my name. I am Stella Dalrymple.’
‘From the newspaper?’ said Alison, not quite able to focus on Stella’s words.
Matthew gave his wife a look of panic and put a finger to his lips. What could ‘from the newspaper’ mean if not reporters looking for a story?
‘It’s Stella Dalrymple,’ said his wife. ‘You remember. She was in that newspaper story, the woman who lived next door to the Derwents and who seemed to know something she wasn’t telling. She says she’s got Nesta and will be bring her home in the morning.’
Matthew took the receiver and said, ‘Is this the truth? Are you really Mrs Dalrymple?’
‘I am,’ said Stella. ‘And Nesta is asleep in my spare bedroom. She arrived here last night, totally worn out and anxious to come home to you.’
‘Let me speak to her,’ said her father.
‘I’ll waken her shortly,’ said Stella. ‘She really is fast asleep. She was exhausted. I promised her I’d contact you after two o’clock. I tried. I let the phone ring for ten minutes but there was no answer. I didn’t know what to think. It seemed impossible that you wouldn’t be there.’
‘What has my daughter been telling you?’ said Matthew. Why had she waited to ring them till after two o’clock? What reason could Nesta have given to extract this promise from her?
‘She told me everything, Mr Gwynn,’ said Stella. ‘She trusts me. She knows that I have known secrets and kept them, secrets almost too fantastic to believe.’
‘But you believed?’ said Matthew.
‘What did she believe?’ said Alison, taking the receiver again. ‘Where is my daughter? Is she in Belthorp? That’s where you live, isn’t it? But that’s miles from here.’
‘She came by train,’ said Stella. ‘We’ll come back by train. I’ll have her home in York by two in the afternoon. We might have been earlier if it hadn’t been Sunday.’
‘We’ll drive up for her,’ said Alison. ‘That will be quicker. We’ll come straight away now.’
‘No,’ said Stella. ‘Don’t do that. I have had much more time to think about this than you have. No one must ever know where Nesta has been. No one must ever connect you with me.’
‘Why ever not?’ said Alison, still not understanding.
‘You life could be a misery,’ said Stella. ‘A man from some ministry or other, some sort of secret service, has already questioned me about Thomas Derwent and his father. If they know that you know me, you will have no peace.’
Alison blanched as she thought of the frog that had been slung over their roof with such force. A man ‘from some ministry’ would have a field day!
‘It is their job to investigate possible extraterrestrial visitors,’ said Stella, using the word for the very first time. The cards were all on the table. Nothing was hidden now.
‘You will bring her home?’ said Alison, skipping any further questions.
‘She will be on the platform at York Station when the twelve-fifteen arrives from Casselton. I shall escort her all the way, but I shan’t leave the train with her. I can’t stress how important it is not to tell anyone exactly where she has been.’
‘The police will ask her questions,’ said Alison. ‘They’re bound to.’
‘Parry them,’ said Stella. ‘Do whatever you can to fend off the questions and to insist on a return to normal life.’
‘Can you wake up my daughter now?’ said Alison. ‘I need to hear her voice.’
‘Of course you do,’ said Stella gently. ‘I’ll fetch her.’
‘Mom, oh Mom,’ Nesta sobbed into the phone. ‘I do love you and I am very, very sorry. Stella will bring me home. Let me speak to Dad.’
Alison handed the receiver to Matthew.
‘Nesta, sweetheart,’ he said.
‘Thanks for not going,’ said Nesta. ‘Thanks for staying here on Earth for me, Dad. I love you very much.’
She sounded very tired.
‘Don’t worry,’ said her father. ‘In a few hours we’ll all be together again. Go back to bed, honey. Have a good sleep.’
‘We’ll have to tell that policeman downstairs that Nesta has been found,’ said Alison anxiously. ‘It’s hard to know what to say.’
‘Leave that to me,’ said Matthew. ‘I’ll say she has rung us and that she is on her way home. They need know nothing more.’
‘On her way home?’ said Detective Inspector Stirling grumpily when he was woken up to be told the latest development. ‘Where from?’
‘They don’t know,’ said the constable awkwardly. Alison and Matthew were standing beside him. He was using the phone in the sitting room, which Alison had discreetly re-plugged.
‘When do they expect her to arrive?’
‘They say they are going to meet her at the railway station at two o’clock in the afternoon.’
‘Oh, oh, oh,’ said the inspector, fully awake now. ‘We can’t have that. They could be going anywhere. The girl might not even have rung them. She might not be in any state to ring them. Did you hear the phone?’
‘No,’ said the constable, ‘they were speaking on the line upstairs.’
‘Let me speak to Mr Gwynn,’ said the inspector.
The constable handed the receiver to Matthew.
‘Yes?’ said Matthew.
‘I’ll be at your house by eleven in the morning, Mr Gwynn,’ said the inspector. ‘In the meantime, don’t go out at all, not even into the garden – forensic will be working there. Make no phone calls. And allow Constable Bainbridge to answer any incoming calls. We must be very cautious. You do understand?’
‘Yes,’ said Matthew wearily, ‘you have made yourself perfectly clear.’ He would have said more but now was not the time for indignation. Nesta was coming home.
‘Now I need to talk to my constable,’ said the inspector.
When Constable Bainbridge put the receiver down, he faced Matthew awkwardly. ‘I’ll have to remove the telephone from your bedroom, sir,’ he said.
Matthew gave a smile that was half-grimace. In a quiet, caustic voice he said, ‘We haven’t murdered our daughter. They won’t find her remains buried in the garden.’
The constable blushed. But he had his duty to do.
‘So can I have the telephone from the bedroom, sir?’ he said.
‘I’ll fetch it down for you,’ said Matthew.
Constable Bainbridge swallowed audibly.
‘I think I am meant to come up and get it, sir. He’s bound to ask if I did.’
‘All right,’ said Matthew, reluctantly sympathizing with the young man’s difficulties. ‘My daughter is safe and she’s coming home. Set beside that, your inspector is a minor irritation.’