The snow was falling steadily with no sign of stopping. Although it was still light, with another hour before sunset, the slate-blue clouds blotted out the sun, casting the fields and lanes into dim twilight. All around her, Deedee could hear the soft hiss of snowflakes hitting bare branches and hedges, and already there was enough snow lying to crunch underfoot. Deedee silently thanked Izzy for providing sturdy boots with a good grip.
‘This way,’ Tom said, striding up the lane. ‘There’s a footpath about a quarter of a mile up here. If the snow’s not too deep, we can cut across the fields and take a good ten minutes off our time.’
‘We’ll go that way then.’ Deedee blinked snow from her eyes. ‘I don’t want to waste a single minute.’ If anything happened to Georgie, she knew she’d never forgive herself. She couldn’t forget that she was the one who had encouraged the girl to follow her dreams. Georgie would never have been in the pantomime or met Mountjoy if it hadn’t been for her.
Tom offered her his arm. ‘If she’s there, we’ll find her.’
She took his arm, once again overcome by a sense that all would be well as long as she was with him. Tom shortened his stride to match hers, and they made good time to the stile where the path across the fields began. Tom climbed over first, then stood by the fence to help her. Deedee, who would usually have batted away any offer of help, still felt a little stiff after her fall of less than a week ago and so gratefully took his hand and allowed him to help her as she stepped over the fence. He was about the same age as her and she was glad to see he had kept himself fit and active in the years since she had left London. Some people seemed to think anyone over fifty was good for nothing but dozing by the fire until they were summoned to the Pearly Gates, but Deedee was having none of it. As far as she was concerned, in recent years she had tasted her first freedom in a long time. Not that she begrudged the decades spent bringing up her daughter and grandchildren, but she had been enjoying her freedom from childrearing in the past few years, and only the war had prevented her from leaping on a train and exploring all the places she had longed to see. She had taken good care of her health and gone for long walks along the Severn most days and had been rewarded by feeling just as healthy as when she was forty or fifty. It was good to see that Tom was equally spry.
Giving in to impulse, when she was ready to jump down from the stile she placed both hands on Tom’s broad shoulders and jumped. Tom grasped her by the waist and swung her to the ground, laughing, making her feel twenty again. She let her hands linger for a while after her feet hit the ground, gazing up at him. Twenty? No, she felt sixteen, giddy with the prospect of a life stretching out ahead of her, full of intriguing possibilities.
Tom didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let go of her waist, either, and he stooped over her, smiling. When a fat snowflake landed on her eyelid, he brushed it away with gentle fingers. For a heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but then a buzzard swooped low, its eerie mewling cry making them both jump.
Deedee dropped her hands and stepped back, the brief enchantment swept away. With it gone, the knowledge of why they were out in the first place crashed down on her, and she cursed herself for forgetting. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Georgie needs us.’
She took his arm again and they set out at a good pace. The path beneath the snow was firm and, although the snow continued to fall, they made rapid progress. The wide, open space of a Lincolnshire field was alien to Deedee, used to the more hilly country around Shrewsbury. It felt bleaker, unfriendly, and she drew closer to Tom’s side. The wind was picking up now, whipping the snow ahead of it, and even in the dull light she could see it building up along the hedgerows. ‘I hope we’re not going to get cut off by drifts,’ she said.
‘They shouldn’t be a problem.’ Tom gave a heap of snow an experimental kick and it exploded in a shower of fine particles. ‘See: it’s quite powdery, so it shouldn’t block our way.’
Deedee was more grateful than ever that Tom had volunteered to come with her. As they marched on, she knew she could no longer deny that she was every bit as in love with him as she had been all those years ago. And if he had kissed her, she wouldn’t have pushed him away. In fact, she might have initiated a kiss herself if it hadn’t been for that buzzard.
At the thought of kissing him, a delicious thrill trickled down her spine, and she gave an involuntary shiver.
Tom at once pulled her closer and wrapped an arm round her shoulders. ‘Are you cold? It’s not far now. Just through that gate, then another quarter of a mile along the lane.’
‘I’m fine. Not at all cold.’ But she made no attempt to pull away from him. Maybe they really could make this work. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if she told him everything, the real reason she had gone all the way to Shrewsbury. Maybe she was worried about nothing. The thought kept her warm on the remainder of the walk to Potterhanworth.
‘Not far now,’ Tom said a few minutes later as they stepped onto a narrow lane. ‘The station’s outside the village, on this side.’
The words were hardly out of his mouth when a train’s whistle rang across the fields. Deedee looked around frantically, trying to see where the line was. ‘Which way’s it going?’
Tom pointed to a line of trees that Deedee could just make out in the fading light. ‘It’s the Sleaford train. If Georgie’s still there, that’s the train she’ll be waiting for.’ He grabbed her hand and broke into a run. ‘We can still make it.’
Deedee, her pulse hammering, kept pace with him. When they reached the end of the narrow lane they turned left onto a broader road in time to see a train crossing a bridge that passed over the road about a hundred yards ahead. ‘The station’s just on the other side of the bridge,’ Tom gasped.
But here they met deep drifts that had blown across the road through a gap in the hedge. Even though the snow was, as Tom had pointed out, fine and powdery, kicking it aside so they could get through took up precious time. ‘No, please stay in the station,’ Deedee begged the train, once they were clear and jogging under the bridge. There was the station house in front of them. They dashed up the path towards the station entrance but, before they could get there, they heard the guard’s shrill whistle.
‘No!’ Deedee moaned. She quickened her pace, but the sound of the steam engine chugging, gradually building up speed, destroyed her hopes. By the time they burst onto the platform the last carriage had rolled out of reach. All that remained was sooty smoke and the lingering metallic smell of a hot engine. If Georgie had been waiting for the train at Potterhanworth, she would be gone.
Pearl paced the living room. Now she had two people to worry about, and she felt helpless in both cases. She was torn between a desire to dash out of the house to accompany Deedee and dread of missing some news about Greg.
When Thea and Jenny returned, they listened in dismay to Pearl’s news. ‘It’s freezing out there,’ Thea said. ‘We should go after them.’
Pearl shook her head. ‘Thomas said something about taking a shortcut across the fields, and I don’t know the way, do you?’ After Thea admitted she didn’t, Pearl continued, ‘You’d end up missing them, and then there would be another set of people for me to worry about. We need to trust that Thomas knows what he’s doing and will keep Deedee safe.’
A wave of exhaustion swept over her – probably a delayed reaction to all the worry – and she sank into an armchair.
Jenny came to perch on the arm. ‘Are you all right? You’ve gone ever so pale.’
‘I’m fine.’ Pearl attempted a smile. ‘It’s ironic, really. I wanted something to take my mind off Greg, and now I’ve got so many worries they’re getting too much for me.’
Thea tossed her a newspaper from the pile next to her own chair. Haughton Newspapers had access to papers from all parts of the country, and Pearl had brought a selection with her. ‘Try the crossword. It won’t be as good as one of mine, but it’ll keep us occupied.’
Pearl opened the paper, seeing that it was from Norfolk. ‘I doubt there’s a crossword. In case you hadn’t noticed, most papers are leaving them out to save space.’ She turned a page and paused when her gaze fell on a headline halfway down page two: STILL NO NEWS OF MISSING KING’S LYNN GIRL. ‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘Deedee said the cases of missing girls might be related, didn’t she? Listen to this: Police still have no leads in the case of missing seventeen-year-old girl Dawn Harlow and have offered a reward for any information that might lead to her return. She was last seen on 2nd December, celebrating with friends after a performance given by the drama school she attends. She left the theatre at eleven that night and has not been seen since.’
Pearl dropped the paper and looked at Thea and Jenny, her mind whirring. ‘What if acting is the link? What if this imposter David Mountjoy is behind it all?’ Refreshed now that she had a new sense of purpose, she rose. ‘I need to do some investigation.’
Clutching the newspaper and with Thea and Jenny trailing behind her, she strode into the study. A short while later she was speaking to a member of the King’s Lynn police on the number given in the newspaper. When she explained who she was, saying she was attached to the Haughton Newspaper Group in Lincolnshire, she said, ‘A girl has just gone missing from Fenthorpe, and I couldn’t help noticing similarities between the cases.’ She went on to explain about the false Mr Mountjoy.
‘That’s most interesting,’ the constable said. ‘As a matter of fact, we have an Inspector Jessop from Scotland Yard here at the moment, and I think he would like to hear your information.’
Her shock must have shown on her face, for Thea whispered, ‘What’s happened?’
In the pause while the constable was going to fetch the inspector, Pearl covered the telephone receiver with her hand and said, ‘They’re putting me through to a Scotland Yard inspector.’
Thea’s eyes shone. ‘They must think you’re on to something. Look at you – you’re a regular Sherlock Holmes.’
A moment later Pearl heard a gruff male voice down the line, speaking with a Yorkshire accent. ‘Inspector Jessop here, Corporal Tallis. I gather you have a girl missing under similar circumstances to the one here in King’s Lynn.’
Pearl related the whole tale again. When she had finished, Jessop said, ‘It’s the mention of the fake theatrical agent that got the constable’s attention. You wouldn’t happen to have a description of him?’
‘I never saw him myself, but my grandmother did.’ Pearl repeated the description Deedee had given her.
‘That is interesting. You see, we’ve asked the press not to print this, but in four other cases of recent missing girls, including the poor girl from Cambridge, friends have mentioned them being approached by a so-called theatrical agent answering that description. He gives a different name each time, but always uses the name of a genuine agent.’
Pearl gripped the receiver. ‘So my grandmother was right. Georgie’s disappearance really is related to these other cases.’
‘I’m afraid it sounds more than likely.’
The inspector ended the call after assuring Pearl he would visit Mrs March in person to break the news. In her turn, Pearl promised to inform him the moment Deedee returned from the railway station. It was a sombre group who now awaited Deedee’s return.