Elinor drove back to Trenouth after her painting session with a pleasurable feeling of deep satisfaction. Her picture was going well and it was a relief to realise she hadn’t lost the ability to paint during the sabbatical she’d given herself over the last year.
She put the radio on at full blast and sang back at the tunes belting out of the speakers. She drove past the field of cows and up the driveway to Leo’s house.
Oddly, given it was already dusk, there were no lights on in the bungalow. Elinor frowned to herself. It wasn’t like Leo not to be in at this time of day. She felt her spirits sink as she wondered if Leo had been searching for that wretched smuggler’s tunnel again. Still, the only way to find out was to see if he was in the house.
Elinor switched off the engine, pulled the handbrake on and gathered up her bulky shoulder bag that contained, amongst other things, her preliminary sketches and photographs. She sighed and went up to the front door, fumbling with the heavy key in the lock and cursing as always the stiffness of the old door.
As soon as she was inside the front door she switched the lights on. She dumped her heavy bag onto the bench in the hallway and made her way through to the dining room.
Elinor found Leo sitting on one of the dark green armchairs and in semi-darkness. He was looking out of the window and sitting so still he could’ve been carved in stone.
Elinor switched on one of the lamps.
‘Leo?’ asked Elinor, worried. ‘Are you OK?’
Leo stirred and slowly turned to look at her. Elinor walked up and plonked herself on the sofa next to him.
‘I found the tunnel.’
‘Really? You found it? Well, that’s fantastic. You always said you knew there was one.’
‘Yes,’ said Leo, not looking particularly pleased with his discovery.
Elinor studied his face, trying to figure out what was going on inside his head.
‘You don’t sound terribly excited about finding it,’ said Elinor finally, in a gross understatement. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘I think I might just have opened Pandora’s box, to be honest with you, Elinor. It’s a discovery that’s shaken me. What I saw at the mouth of the tunnel has me troubled and I’m really not sure what to do about it now.’
‘I don’t understand. What did you see at the entrance? And where is the tunnel anyway?’
‘I went into one of the caves at Wine Cove. It’s not easily accessible. I had to put on my waterproof fishing gear and wade through a metre-deep rock pool inside of the cave. Right at the back of the cave, about three metres above the cave floor, there’s a square hole cut into the rock face. It’s clearly man-made. I looked into the opening and it’s definitely a tunnel, and as far as I can see the tunnel heads upwards.’ Leo started to chew his upper lip. It was a habit of his when he felt flummoxed by a difficult conundrum and it mostly happened when he was working on the Sunday Times crossword.
‘I didn’t go into it myself, obviously, but what surprised me most of all was that the tunnel still seems to be in use.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Who’d want to go up a disused and dirty tunnel these days?’ scoffed Elinor, refusing to believe people would want to explore what was bound to be a wet, smelly tunnel.
‘Well somebody clearly does,’ retorted Leo. ‘There’s a waterproof canvas bag tied to a hook next to the tunnel entrance and in it there’s five waterproof torches. Why would that be there if the tunnel wasn’t in use?’
‘Maybe there’s a crazy thrill-seeker that’s getting his kicks from exploring a secret tunnel.’
‘With five torches? Come on, Elinor. There’s also a hook clearly meant to be used to tie a dinghy or a small boat to.’
‘So? It’s probably a thrill-seeker with a small boat. What’s the big deal?’
Leo shook his head stubbornly.
‘I don’t agree. I haven’t got a good feeling about it. It’s too well prepared and organised to be a one-time thing. Something dodgy is going on with that tunnel.’
Elinor looked into her uncle’s eyes and saw he wasn’t about to change his mind. Those clear blue eyes were filled with resolution and determination. Leo was a man who’d built a close spiritual bond with nature over a lifetime and he wasn’t about to ignore any instinct lurking in the pit of his belly. He possessed finely tuned antennae for anything that didn’t compute with his sense of right and wrong.
‘So what are you planning to do about it?’ asked Elinor, resigned to the fact Leo wasn’t going to let his suspicions rest.
‘I’m not sure. There’s nothing illegal about having five torches tied to the entrance of an old smuggling tunnel. I need to gather more information. I’ve started wondering if Barbara’s story might not be so crazy after all.’
‘What story?’
‘Surely you remember when she told us about the neighbour at the bottom of our road? The one who was getting woken up in the middle of the night by a white van? I think I might go and have a word with her.’
‘Oh yes! I seem to remember you shot Barbara’s suspicions down in flames at the time. Are you saying you think it might all be true now? You owe Barbara an apology, if that’s the case, Leo. You really weren’t very nice to her about it.’
Leo nodded in silent agreement.
Elinor looked at him, intrigued by his sudden acceptance of Barbara’s outlandish ideas and the possibility that the tunnel he had found might have a secretive, even sinister, use.
‘If you’re planning on interviewing Sheila Burns, can I come with you?’ she asked suddenly, her interest kindled.
‘Of course you can. We can head down there in the early morning tomorrow. I don’t want to frighten her by turning up in the dark, when she’s not expecting us.’
Elinor smiled ironically, remembering how, not so long ago, six young men had turned up in the middle of the night at Trenouth. Leo had then shown a great deal less regard to her fears than to Sheila Burns’.
Elinor got up and headed to the kitchen to rustle up some dinner.
Later that night she slept better than she had done for a long time. She slept deeply and no eerie dreams disturbed her sleep for once. Painting was working its magic on her and she was able to drift away pondering the alterations she wanted to make next time she was up at Barbara’s studio. Everything else in her life was fading into the background: her surfing, Leo’s tunnel and Tony Reece were all things that suddenly didn’t seem to matter so much...