CHAPTER 23
And she was in the playhouse all the time? says Ruth.
She certainly wasnt there all the time, says Nelson. We searched the Wendy House thoroughly on Saturday night and again this morning. Even took the floorboards up. But this afternoon, when I was with the parents at the TV station, Johnson was looking after the other kids. They were playing some game in the garden. Johnson looked in the playhouse and there was Poppy.
Was she OK?
Right as rain. A bit cold and hungry but otherwise fine. And she was dressed warmly. Thats the biggest clue we have really. When she went missing she was just wearing her nightdress. When Johnson found her she was wearing a pink all-in-one thing, fleecy with feet attached.
God. I cant imagine what Judy would have felt. What did she do?
She picked up the little girl and ran like hell for the house. She wasnt sure if she was hurt or not at the time. Fuller called me immediately – I was driving the parents home – and we were there in minutes.
Ruth can just imagine the way Nelson must have driven to cover those last few miles.
What did the mum do? she asks, though she feels as if she can see the scene for herself.
It was one of the best moments of my career, says Nelson. She just grabbed the baby from Johnson and collapsed on the floor, sobbing and laughing. The husband sort of fell on top of her and soon the whole family were in this little heap on the kitchen floor. Johnson and Fuller were crying like a couple of babies.
What about you and Clough?
Oh were tough. Nelson grins, Well, I think Cloughie had something in his eye. I was just so relieved. You know, I really thought she was dead.
Ruth and Nelson are in her tiny garden, drinking tea and watching Kate play with her Native American tepee (a present from Cathbad). Its nearly nine oclock but warm and still light. When Nelson had rung to say that Poppy had been found and that hed be round to see Kate when hed cleared up at the station, Ruth had said, Dont worry about us, you must be exhausted. Go home. No, I want to see her, Nelson had replied and Ruth can understand why. She has only been peripherally involved in Poppys disappearance and yet the experience has made her want to treasure every moment with Kate. Even now, shes reluctant to take the little girl to bed. She just wants to watch her playing in the shadowy garden, shuttling to and fro between the tent and the apple tree, intent on some complicated business of her own. She understands why Nelson wanted to see his youngest daughter, to check with his own eyes that she was safe and happy.
Its a hell of a relief, Nelson says again, his eyes on Kate. When you find a missing child alive, its the best feeling in the world. But the case isnt over. The perpetrators still at large and we havent got much to go on really. The note – assuming its the same person – the change of clothes, that one sighting.
Do you think that was her? The woman with the pram?
I dont know, but no-ones come forward, which seems suspicious in itself. And why would anyone be wheeling a baby in a pushchair at ten oclock at night in the pouring rain?
Maybe the baby wouldnt sleep. I used to take Kate out for drives. Up and down New Road at twenty miles an hour. Anything to get her to close her eyes.
Nelson smiles. He looks shattered, Ruth thinks. There are dark circles under his eyes and when he puts his empty cup down on the grass his hand is shaking.
How long since you slept? she asks.
He runs a hand through his hair. I dont know. I didnt go to bed last night. Itll have to be another early start in the morning too. Cant afford to let the trail go cold.
You cant afford to crack up either.
He laughs. Dont worry about me, Ruth. Like I say, Im tough. Id like to give Johnson a day off though. Shes really taken this case to heart.
Judy lies on the sofa, eyes closed. The exhilaration of finding Poppy has given way to an exhaustion so complete that, as soon as she sat down, she felt as if she had sprouted tendrils that would root her to the spot forever. But the exhilaration has not disappeared. She can still feel the glorious weight of the little girl against her shoulder as she ran towards the house, stumbling over the flowerbeds, the two boys chasing after her. She remembers Tanyas shocked face as she stood at the door, not knowing whether the pink bundle in Judys arms was moving or not.
Shes alive, Judy had panted. Call the boss. Now!
While they waited for Nelson, Judy had propped Poppy up on the kitchen table, not daring to let go completely. So far the little girl had not uttered a sound but she was awake, her blue eyes round as she stared impassively at the two policewomen.
Shes not that cold, said Judy. She cant have been in there long.
Christ, said Tanya. She must have been put there while we were in the house.
The clothes are different, said Judy. Remember, Donna said she was in a nightdress. She patted the pink babygro. Feels as if shes got a clean nappy too. Tanya shuddered slightly.
Hallo, Poppy, said Judy. Hallo darling.
Scooter was crying quietly in the corner but Bailey suddenly appeared carrying a squashy toy zebra. Look Pops! Its Stripes!
Poppy had burst into noisy sobs. Judy gathered her into her arms as the door opened and Donna exploded into the room …
Judy? Darren is leaning over her. You ought to be in bed, love.
Judy opens her eyes. Hows Michael?
Fast asleep.
Judy thinks of Poppy sandwiched between her parents as they lay on the kitchen floor, a sobbing, shuddering human pyramid. Incredibly, when Donna had finally got to her feet, Poppy had fallen asleep, mouth open, cheeks flushed.
Is she OK? Donna had asked Judy. Shes not drugged or anything?
I dont think so, Judy said. She seemed perfectly alert when I found her. But youll need to get her checked out at the hospital.
Theres an ambulance outside, said Clough. They were the first words he had spoken though Judy had seen him surreptitiously wiping his eyes.
Thank you, Donna said to Judy. How can I ever thank you?
I didnt do anything really.
Now she remembers something else. She smelt of perfume, Judy says to Darren. Poppy smelt of the play house – you know, that typical shed smell – but she smelt of perfume too. Something expensive.
Darren pulls her to her feet. You can tell Nelson in the morning.
Judy leans against her husband as they walk towards the stairs. He smells of home.
CHAPTER 24
Its whats called a shifted village, says Frank. In medieval times the centre would have been here, just north of the church. Now its a mile away along the A140.
Ruth looks around her. Its almost too perfect, a landscape painters dream of a ruin. The walk, through dense woodland choked with nettles and cow parsley, had been hard going, especially for Kate (Frank had to carry her for the last half mile), but the abandoned church was worth it in the end. The trees, thick with summer foliage, hid the ruins until the very last moment. Then, suddenly, they were standing in an open space, the walls, still with their high arched windows, rising up into the sky and the branches reaching out to form their own vaulted ceiling. Apart from a skylark singing somewhere up above, there was perfect silence all around them. Now Kate runs from wall to wall, laughing as she touches the mossy stones. For Ruth, though, the place has a curiously solemn feel – not unhappy, just sombre, as if the space between the walls is charged with something beyond the stillness and the isolation. Erik would have said that it was sacred land but Ruth doesnt believe in any of that, does she?
When was it ruined? she asks, sitting on a low wall to get her breath back. Would Jemima have come to this church?
Frank shakes his head. The church was abandoned in the seventeenth century. I suppose her family would have gone to the church in Nethergate.
She would have known this place though, says Ruth, looking up at the sky, bright blue between the leaves.
She would, agrees Frank. He takes Kates hand as she skips from stone to stone. Hes good with her; not pushy, in the way that adults sometimes are with children, but quiet and respectful. Kate has already honoured him with a full-length rendition of Wind the Bobbin Up, including gestures.
Ruth walks through a doorway which is still eerily intact, a gateway to nowhere. Shes in another church-shaped space, probably a side chapel. The south wall still stands and includes two alcoves with statues on plinths, their faces worn smooth by wind and rain.
I wonder who these were, she says.
Frank and Kate are following. The Church was dedicated to Saint Mary, says Frank. So maybe one of them was her.
Ruth looks at the stone shapes, its impossible to tell if they were meant to represent male or female figures. Theres a suggestion of a flowing robe, but that doesnt prove anything. She remembers the time that she visited Norwich Cathedral with Janet Meadows, looking for the statue of Bishop Augustine. The cathedral was vast and magnificent but this little country church has something of the same feel about it. A sense of peace, of withdrawal from the rest of the world. Ruth thinks of the words of Mother Julian, Julian of Norwich, another woman commemorated in the cathedral. All shall be well and all shall be well.
Frank and Kate have passed through another archway. Ruth finds Frank gazing out at a tangle of trees and brambles. Kate is almost hidden in the waist-high grass.
I think this must have been the churchyard, says Frank, but its so overgrown its hard to see any gravestones. The woods have come right up to the walls.
Ruth looks at the trees, their branches choked with ivy and overhung with creepers. They look almost menacing, as if they are advancing on the church and mean, one day, to take it over forever.