Douglas Goodyear arrived by taxi at Ford Farm. It was not his first visit. Emilia showed him into the sitting room and called for Perry to join them. ‘Any news of Abbie at all?’ she asked the visitor, chewing her lip.
‘I’m afraid there’s still nothing.’ Goodyear was an individual of impeccable pinstripe suits, with an air of importance and an astute gaze. He was also a willing solver of problems, which had led him to offer his services to the Rothwells to come down to Cornwall and search for his former sister-in-law. An old Army officer to the core, and holder of the George Cross for valour, good looks had been determined to pass him by. He held his bearing ramrod straight, with his hands behind his back. ‘All the police can ascertain is that Abbie bought a railway ticket at Truro railway station for Paddington on the morning she left here, but to the best of their knowledge she never boarded the train. My own inquiries have also found nothing significant. Abbie seems to have totally vanished. It’s nearly four weeks now. I’m afraid we can only fear for her safety. She never failed to keep in touch regularly with her parents before, or with Rupert. One thing Rupert always praised her for was how she kept him abreast of her movements.’
‘Poor Honor and Archie. They must be beside themselves, and so upset that Archie’s not up to travelling down here himself,’ Emilia said, sitting down. She felt responsible for Abbie’s disappearance. She had left here suddenly. There must have been something on her mind, and she had not noticed it. Now it looked as if Abbie was in some sort of danger. There was one thing to hope for. ‘Abbie could have changed her mind about going up to London. She lied about your publishing company wanting to see her, Mr Goodyear. She might simply have wanted to be on her own for a while.’
‘It’s a possibility, of course, Mrs Bosweld, but I don’t think any of us agree it’s likely. Abbie might have been disappointed over this Fuller chap you have mentioned, but I can’t see her becoming a recluse to ease a breaking heart over it. No, Abbie would never allow her parents to worry about her like this.’
Perry gently gripped Emilia’s shoulder. ‘Abbie leaving the railway station and meeting with an accident also seems unlikely. So it looks like abduction.’
‘Oh, God, no.’ Emilia’s voice wobbled as she gave way to tears. She had kept thrusting this terrible possibility to the back of her mind. ‘Could she have left the station with someone? But who? She doesn’t really know anyone outside of Hennaford.’
‘We’ll just have to keep digging away, try to come up with something,’ Douglas said.
‘What will you do next?’ Perry asked.
‘After the lunch you’ve kindly invited me to share, I shall pop back into Truro.’ Douglas rose up and down on his heels, as if ready to take off for action in an instant. ‘Mr Rothwell has authorized me to put a notice of a reward of five hundred pounds in the West Briton. It’s Thursday tomorrow, the same day of the week that Abbie disappeared. I’ll return to the railway station and question the travellers, see if there’s anyone who always takes the train on the same day, who might have seen her. I’ll do the same to the buses as they come into the town. Fortunately your nephew had taken some very good recent photographs of her.’
Jill joined them. She saw Emilia’s tear-stained eyes. ‘All right to come in? I suppose you’re talking about Abbie. I take it there’s no good news.’
‘Not a thing,’ Emilia replied.
Jill took on a sheepish look. ‘There is something that might possibly help. I couldn’t see how before but now we’re clutching at straws…’
‘If you think you know even the most insignificant thing, Mrs Harvey, please do speak up.’ Douglas gazed at her with the air of an interrogator.
‘Perhaps I should have mentioned this before.’ Pink in the cheeks, for she was feeling guilty now, she told them about the distressing interchange between herself and Abbie. ‘She could have left because of that. I didn’t stay angry with her for long. I’ll never forget she helped to save my life. Dear God, I hope she hasn’t come to any harm.’
‘Well, that probably explains her decision to leave but I can’t see how it would have any bearing on what might have happened to her,’ Perry said. ‘What say you, Mr Goodyear?’
‘I agree with you, Mr Bosweld. It’s something to bear in mind. I’ll pass on the information to the police. Mrs Bosweld looked surprised by what you said, Mrs Harvey. Why hadn’t you mentioned it before? Does your husband know?’
‘I didn’t even mention it to Tom.’ Jill spoke in hushed tones. ‘I just wanted to forget about it.’
‘The young girl who’s usually with you, Mrs Harvey, wouldn’t happen to know anything?’ Douglas was brisk. ‘She could be holding something back too.’
‘I’m quite sure Kate knows nothing more. She had a friendly chat with Abbie before Abbie and I had words. She liked Abbie. Abbie was going to teach her to paint and she was looking forward to it.’
‘Mmm.’ Douglas drew together his trim brows. ‘It’s a pity Abbie ever came down to Cornwall.’ He had a great fondness for the woman his brother had treated so badly.
The others in the room said nothing, but all silently agreed with him.
Abbie awoke with a high fever and a thundering headache that made it almost too painful to lift her head off the pillow. She had to strive to recall where she was, why she was here in this small, darkened room. Oh yes, she had been taken to a little guesthouse at the bottom end of Richmond Hill, just below the railway station. What awful bad luck to have contracted the measles, to be overcome by dizziness before she had got on the train. A doctor had been summoned to attend her. She didn’t remember the examination but apparently he had been concerned about her eyes, blindness was a complication of measles, but thank God she had escaped that terrible prospect.
Moaning groggily she battled to prop herself up and reached for the aspirin bottle and glass of water on the bedside cabinet. She managed to swallow a couple of pills and sip some water to ease her burning throat. She was so tired. Falling back on the pillows she kept her eyes shut for some time, then opened them and raised her arms in front of her face to examine them in the crack of light at the edge of the curtains. The telltale red circular spots had faded but the virus had leached all her strength and her arms flopped down heavily. How much longer before she would be well enough to get out of this bed? Within minutes she was deeply asleep again.
She came round to noises of shuffling in the room. ‘Ohah.’ Her head throbbed and her mouth was as dry as dust.
‘It’s all right, Miss Rothwell. Do you think you can sit up? I’ve brought you some chicken broth and a cup of tea.’
‘Oh, um…’ Abbie’s voice was weak and husky. She was confused. She rubbed at her eyes. The woman was big and shadowy, around middle age. The only thing that stood out about her was a string of thick white beads.
‘It’s Mrs Mitchell, dear.’
‘Oh yes. You’re looking after me. I’m very grateful.’
‘’Tis my pleasure to help you. Thank goodness my husband saw you coming over all poorly when he went up to put a parcel on the train.’
‘How long have I been here?’ Abbie needed the woman’s help to sit up straight enough to sip broth off the spoon placed near her lips.
‘Just over a few days, that’s all.’
‘It seems much longer.’
‘That’s what illness does to you. Try another sip, dear. You need to finish it all off if you’re going to get your strength back. You were unlucky. These childhood diseases are a sight worse when you’re grown up.’
Abbie’s mind was a muddle but she knew what was priority. ‘You did phone my mother and tell her that I’m here? I’m sure I asked you.’
‘Of course you did, dear. She rings every day to ask how you are. She’s ever so glad you’re in good hands. As soon as you’re able, Mr Mitchell and me will put you on the next train home.’
Abbie felt sweaty and sticky. ‘I need to freshen up. Can you bring me up some hot water, please? And can you unpack a clean nightdress?’
‘As soon as you’ve cleared the plate. Then you must take some more aspirin. Doctor’s orders, he said it was the best thing for you.’
Getting through the broth and drinking the tea was a trial but Abbie was hungry and thirsty and she finished the meal. Mrs Mitchell coaxed her into taking two more pills and she was sleeping almost at once.
A man joined Mrs Mitchell. ‘Off in the land of nod again, is she?’
‘Sleeping like a baby and as helpless as one.’
‘She was easy pickings. Stroke of luck me coming across she like that while out looking for pockets to pick. We’ve got what we wanted. When are we going to get out of here then?’
‘Soon, husband, dear. I’ve got an idea how to get even more out of her. A hell of a lot more.’