Published by Avon

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2017

Copyright © Bella Osborne 2017

Cover design © Alex Allden 2017

Bella Osborne asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © March 2017 ISBN: 9780008181017

Source ISBN: 9780008181024

Version: 2017-11-16

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT ESCAPE TO WILLOW COTTAGE

‘Loved this book, so light-hearted and amusing’

‘A lovely read’

‘Oh what a little treasure this is! A cast of great characters, lovely Cotswold village and Beth trying to cope with the disaster she has bought’

‘Full of wit and charm’

‘Great characters who have quickly become established and rooted in my imagination. Very funny, but with deeper undercurrents woven in’

‘Loved the story, couldn’t put it down’

‘Absolutely loved this book, hooked from the start’

‘Three Words: Brilliant, Charming and Moving’

‘This is a wonderful read’

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

What readers are saying about Escape to Willow Cottage

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading…

About the Author

About the Publisher

Chapter Thirty-Four

It was early and the hospital and ICU ward were still peaceful. Cormac and Rosemary had arrived looking slightly less weary having spent the night in a nearby hotel, although they were both quiet and subdued. Rosemary had a paperback with her and she began reading silently as Cormac scanned a newspaper. Carly was sitting at Fergus’s side scanning his music collection; she had been playing his music through the vibrating speaker all night. There had been no change in Fergus. Not a flicker of an eyelash or a twitch of a finger – nothing.

Carly let out a huge yawn; she was exhausted. Sooner or later she would have to accept that she needed to go home for a proper sleep in her own bed. Nobody had said as much but she was starting to realize that this was only day three of what could be very many days at his bedside. She didn’t want to think about it but she knew she had to. Everything had changed so suddenly – what was meant to have been one of the happiest times of her life had quickly become a nightmare. It was still unclear why some lout had smashed a bottle over Fergus’s head and she wondered if he had any idea of how quickly that action had changed so many lives.

Maybe it was the tiredness but she felt like a layer of bubble wrap surrounded her and numbed her senses. She almost couldn’t believe this was reality. Each time she thought, This can’t be happening, the beep of the machines reminded her that it was. Watching the man she loved lying there still and lifeless sent shivers of fear down her spine. How long would they have to play this waiting game? The hours spent watching Fergus looking pale and unresponsive put everything into perspective. All she needed was to have her indestructible Fergus back and everything would be right again. Carly wiped away a tear, only half aware of them now as they seemed to start without her noticing. She looked up and spotted that the middle-aged man from the bed opposite had disappeared in the night and she convinced herself that it was because he had recovered. She couldn’t bear to think about the alternative.

Carly looked through the photographs on Fergus’s phone; she especially liked all the silly selfies they had taken together. They looked happy in every photo, even the ones where they were pulling sad clown faces. Fergus looked different lying there in the hospital bed. It was like she was looking at a different person. She couldn’t explain exactly what it was, perhaps the lack of his smile or his mischievous eyes, she wasn’t sure, but there was definitely something missing from the man who lay motionless in the bed next to her.

Carly needed something to distract her tired mind so she pressed on the music icon. She was really getting the hang of the iPhone now, having struggled to start with, and she thumbed through the playlists and albums like an expert. Something caught her eye and she scrolled back.

‘Fergus, you dark horse,’ she mumbled to herself. Selecting the album, she pressed Play. She put her hand on the small vibrating device she had bought to check it was pulsating on his chest and it was. Carly picked up his hand and started to sign what was playing. It took a while for her to spell it out in finger signs. ‘Mamma Mia album first song “Honey, Honey”.’

She started to giggle. It was probably a mixture of anxiety and the ridiculous but the giggles took over. Cormac rustled his newspaper and Rosemary placed her bookmark in her current page and put her book down.

‘What is it?’ asked Rosemary, her laughter lines enhanced with concern.

Carly waved a hand as she tried to control her tittering. ‘Fergus and I don’t like the same sort of music but I’ve found some Abba in his music collection and I’m force-feeding it to him.’

‘Do you think the vibrator works?’ asked Rosemary in all innocence. Cormac coughed and Carly started to giggle again. ‘What?’

‘Tha’ wee thing there is a vibrating speaker, so it is,’ said Cormac, rolling his eyes. ‘Not a vibrator!’

‘It’s the same thing!’ protested Rosemary.

‘No, no it’s not!’ said Carly through her laughter.

‘Eejit,’ muttered Cormac, returning his eyes to his paper.

‘Do you think it works?’ asked Rosemary again, still not getting the joke.

Carly composed herself. ‘I honestly don’t know. I hope so because when he comes round it’ll be cool if he can get some pleasure from music again. He’s really missed it.’ In her head as she said the word ‘when’ another small voice said ‘if’ and Carly had to swallow hard to keep her emotions in check. She couldn’t think like that, she had to stay positive.

‘When he was a wee lad he loved his music. I used to think he’d glued those headphones to his head,’ said Rosemary chuckling at the memory. ‘He really liked that Cheeky Girls song.’

Cormac eyed them over the top of the paper and shook his head but a smile played on his lips. Carly was frantically pressing icons trying to work out how to download new music.

‘This is brilliant, Rosemary. What else did he like?’

Carly and Rosemary hatched an eclectic playlist of the songs from Fergus’s youth. They enjoyed putting it together but when it was on its second repeat, and there was still no reaction from Fergus, the excitement of the new playlist dwindled. She watched what was starting to play on the iPhone screen and spelled it out on his hand: ‘Sound of the Underground’ by Girls Aloud.

Without warning Fergus’s hand slowly closed around hers. Carly gasped and looked at Fergus’s face but there was no sign of any movement. Her stomach was tumbling over and she tried to quell the feeling of elation. She didn’t want to get her hopes up unnecessarily but this was a good sign. It had to be. The silent tears trickled down her cheeks and she hardly dare make his parents aware in case it broke the spell. She waved her left hand frantically and Rosemary glanced up from her book.

The words were hard to get out. ‘He’s holding my hand,’ said Carly, her voice lost in the deep emotion as she blubbed helplessly.

There was a moment before the sentence registered. ‘Mary, mother of God!’ exclaimed Rosemary, barging past Cormac and around to Carly’s side of the bed. Cormac followed her and they all stared at Fergus’s pale hand clasping Carly’s. Cormac wiped away a tear and put his arms around the two women. ‘He’s always liked to take his time has this one. Always liked to take his time,’ said Cormac, giving Carly’s shoulder a squeeze.

‘Nurse!’ called Cormac. ‘I think we have a few more vital signs that need checking out over here.’

The nurse came over and they explained excitedly what Fergus had done. She took Fergus’s hand from Carly and Carly wanted to hit her.

‘Hey! Do you have to do that?’ asked Carly, rising to her feet. She wasn’t a violent person but the sensation of having the contact taken away so abruptly made something primal flare up inside her.

‘Calm now, she’s just doing her job,’ soothed Cormac, and he beckoned Carly to sit back down.

The nurse didn’t look fazed; she most likely faced a lot worse on a regular basis. ‘I need to check a few things, okay?’ she asked but she was going ahead and checking them anyway. She went through the usual routine and jotted down her findings on Fergus’s notes. Carly sat back down and took Fergus’s hand in hers. She squeezed it but there was no response. She waited a moment and squeezed again.

‘He’s not gripping any more,’ said Carly, looking frantically from the nurse to Cormac and Rosemary.

‘Could have been a spasm,’ the nurse explained with a look of commiseration.

‘No.’ Carly shook her head. ‘No, he held my hand for maybe half a minute?’ She felt the tears start to fall afresh as she looked to Rosemary for backup and Rosemary nodded briefly.

‘Okay,’ said the nurse kindly. ‘Let’s hope he does it again.’

Jack thumped on the front door of Willow Cottage. ‘Leo! Open the door!’ he shouted but there was no response. He went back to the living-room window.

‘Beth!’ he yelled as he repeatedly smacked his hand on the glass but there was no movement from her. She remained curled up on the sofa deathly still. A thought struck him and fear shot through his insides like his first-ever vodka shot – he might already be too late. He pulled out his phone, dialled 999 and ran to the back of the cottage to see if he could easily get in that way. Jack pulled at the stable doors and checked the windows but everything was securely locked up.

The 999 operator answered and Jack asked for an ambulance, explained that he thought Beth was suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning and gave the address. The operator was asking questions but Jack slid the phone into his pocket. He needed to get inside and fast. He pulled off his T-shirt, wrapped it around his elbow and with a sharp jab he smashed in one of the small sections of the kitchen window. He quickly brushed away the glass fragments with the T-shirt, threw it to the floor, put his hand through and released the window catch inside.

Jack pushed open the window, leaped onto the windowsill and was soon inside crouched on the worktop. ‘Leo!’ he hollered but there was no reply. Where was Leo? Had Beth been able to let him in? And if she hadn’t where had he gone and where was he now?

Jack’s primary focus had to be Beth. She was the priority. If he was right about the boiler and the carbon monoxide poisoning then he was fast running out of time. His heart was pumping hard and without thinking he took in a deep breath. A spike of a headache shot through his temple. Ignoring it he jumped down onto the damp and distorted floorboards, then hurried out of the kitchen and into the living room.

‘Beth!’ He dropped to his knees and gently patted her cheek. There was no response. He pressed his fingers to her neck and checked her pulse. She was still alive. The sense of relief was immense although he knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the front door. He struggled with the front-door lock with Beth in his arms because he couldn’t see what he was doing. He felt odd, like he was floating, but it was not a pleasant sensation. Jack shook his head only to find that aided the dizziness and nausea that were gripping him. He lifted Beth higher into his arms and turned so he could see the lock properly. His head was pounding. He gripped the key and it turned clunkily in the lock. Jack reached for the latch but his vision was blurring and his first attempt to grab it missed so that his fingers closed around air. He reached again and this time he had hold of it tightly. He released the door and pulled it open. His head felt heavy and his knees started to give way. Jack lunged forward out of the cottage, turning as he fell so that Beth would land on top of him and be protected from the ground. He was barely aware of the impact as he landed hard on the path and everything went black around him. His last thought was Leo.

There was something on his face and Jack pushed it away. He could feel the cold of the stone path on his bare back but there was something soft, like a pillow, under his head. He was unsure what was going on and his memory was sketchy.

‘Hey, you need that, pal. It’s oxygen,’ said the paramedic, putting the mask back in place. Jack opened his eyes and tried to focus; it took a few attempts. ‘I’m Clark,’ said the ordinary-looking paramedic and Jack managed to raise an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, I know, my parents had a sense of humour. But you’ve been the real Superman today …’

Jack’s memory came flooding back to him. ‘Is she all right?’ he asked. His throat was dry and the words were barely a croak. He tried to lift his head and the pounding increased.

‘She’s on her way to hospital, she’s not conscious yet but they’re working on her. You did good, pal. You need to take some steady deep breaths for me. We’re flushing the carbon monoxide out of your system with oxygen, okay?’

Jack did as he was told and took in a deep lungful of oxygen. He looked around him and saw another paramedic was at his side setting up a stretcher. Beyond him a police car and a fire engine were parked near the pub and a policeman was keeping rubberneckers away.

‘Nice steady breaths, that’s great,’ said Clark. ‘We’ll move you in a minute and get you properly checked out at hospital.’

Jack took another deep breath and felt his body start to revive. He still had the pounding headache but his brain was starting to fire up. ‘Leo!’ he said into the mask, forcing himself upright.

‘Hey, you want to be lying nice and still. Whoa!’ said Clark as Jack wrenched off the mask.

‘Leo is missing, he’s six years old, he could be in there,’ Jack explained, breathlessly pointing towards the cottage.

Clark tried to reattach the oxygen mask. ‘Nope, it’s all clear. We alerted the fire service and they’ve been in and checked. There’s nobody else in there.’

‘Then he’s missing,’ said Jack, struggling but failing to get up.

‘Whoa there, mister. You’re going nowhere,’ said Clark, taking hold of Jack’s bare arm and easing him back into a lying position. ‘Let the police handle it,’ he added, waving them over.

A rather serious-looking police officer jotted down everything Jack told him. Jack passed him his mobile and guided him to the picture of Nick’s silver BMW.

‘This guy may not have anything to do with it but in case he does,’ said Jack. He had no idea where Nick was; he was most likely back home in London but he couldn’t take the risk. Leo was missing and Nick was the prime suspect.

Chapter Thirty-Five

The hospital corridors were busy again with visitors trooping in and out. Rosemary and Carly were waiting in the queue in the canteen. Neither of them wanted to eat anything but both knew they had to. Cormac had decided to skip lunch because he’d had a large muffin with a coffee not long ago so had sent the women off to eat together. Carly didn’t know Rosemary that well. Fergus’s parents flew over to London a few times every year but visits were fleeting and Carly often found she was there mainly as an interpreter. She didn’t mind, it was Fergus they came to see, she knew that, but it did encroach on any conversation she might have had with his parents. They hadn’t said much to each other since they had been sharing the bedside vigil – the music conversation had been the most they had interacted.

Rosemary looked at Carly’s bowl of soup, which was rapidly going cold on the tray. ‘You still a vegetarian?’ she asked. Rosemary must have been struggling for things to talk about too.

‘Yep, still a veggie.’

‘Not much choice, is there?’ said Rosemary, poking her packet of unappealing sandwiches.

They paid for their food and found a recently wiped-down table to unload their trays onto.

‘How long are you staying?’ asked Carly. ‘I’m thinking that Cormac will need to be back at work tomorrow, won’t he?’

‘He will. But I can’t leave Fergus.’ Rosemary shook her head as she wrestled with the sandwich carton. Carly held out her hand and Rosemary passed it over. Carly opened the carton and handed it back. ‘Thank you.’

They ate in silence. The soup was still warm and surprisingly tasty. Carly realized that she hadn’t eaten anything substantial since she and Beth had walked through Chinatown, which now seemed such a long time ago. An incident like this put all your usual structures out of kilter; drinks and food were grabbed randomly through necessity at any time of the day or night, hours passed and time lost any meaning. Carly had a very real fear that something might happen, good or bad, when she was away from the bedside, which had become an overwhelming power that made her not want to leave. She had gone hours between toilet breaks in case something happened while she was away.

Rosemary pushed the remains of her sandwich back into the carton. ‘Would you mind if I stayed with you when Cormac goes home?’ she asked, and Carly’s eyes shot up from her soup, a spoonful suspended en route to her mouth. ‘It’s just that I’m none too keen on staying in a hotel on my own, you see.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Carly, recovering herself. ‘It’ll be company for me too.’ What else could she say?

‘Now, you’re sure you don’t mind?’

Carly’s mind flashed back to the flat. She had barely noticed anything when she had gone back to change but she knew the sofa was still a made-up sofa bed that Beth had slept on. Their bedroom was chaos; she had flung her clothes on the bed on top of the numerous outfits she had previously left there when she had been deciding what to wear to her engagement party and there was definitely no milk in the fridge. Rosemary was waiting for a response.

‘I don’t mind, but you might. It’s a bit of a tip because …’ She suddenly wanted to tell her about the engagement because if she didn’t tell her now when would there ever be a right opportunity? Her hand instinctively went to her pocket to check the ring was still there and it was; the shape of it under the fabric of her jeans reassured her.

‘Oh, that doesn’t matter. I quite like to tidy up, that’ll be something I can do to help you,’ said Rosemary, leaning across and laying her hand on Carly’s. ‘Perhaps we could have a rota so there’s always someone with Fergus.’

Carly wrestled with her conscience. Fergus wanted to tell his parents about the engagement face to face, she knew that, but when would that be? Beth came into her mind. She knew what Beth would say. She would tell her to stop and think. And she was right, now was not the time. Any pleasure at sharing the engagement news would be short-lived because Fergus wasn’t able to celebrate with them. She’d have to wait. She turned the ring over in her pocket and left it there as she put her hand back on the table.

When they returned to ICU Cormac pretended that he hadn’t recently woken up. Carly noticed the curtains were drawn around a nearby bed where a teenage motorcyclist had been since last night. She could hear muffled sobs from his family and feared the worst. The thought that at any moment that could be them struck her like a falling tree.

Rosemary retook her place next to Fergus and Carly stood totally still, staring at the drawn curtains. ‘Are you all right?’ Cormac asked, looking concerned.

‘No. There must be more we can do. We can’t just sit here waiting for him to …’ She knew there were two ways she could end that sentence. ‘You said there was always something!’ She jabbed a finger at Cormac although she knew he wasn’t the source of her frustration. They shouldn’t have to be working out where Rosemary was going to stay or how she was going to speed-tidy-up the flat so that his mother didn’t think she was the slovenly sort. They should be planning a wedding and arguing over guest lists and seating plans, not working out a rota of who was going to sit with Fergus in case he woke up or … She felt crosser than she ever had before, with the possible exception of the time when Fergus was juggling with the flat keys and managed to drop them down a drain. She wanted Fergus back and she wanted him back now.

‘Is there something you want to do?’ asked Cormac gently.

‘Yes, I want to do something! Argh!’ Carly was tired and beyond frustrated. She marched round to her side of Fergus’s bed thinking that she and Rosemary must look like a pair of statues or, worse still, gargoyles.

She picked up the iPhone and scrolled back to the teenage Fergus playlist they had put together earlier, selected ‘The Ketchup Song’ and pressed Play. She took Fergus’s limp fingers in hers and spelled out the track for him. She squeezed his hand but he didn’t respond. She clutched it tightly and tried her best not to cry.

Cormac was watching her closely. He walked round to her and crouched down. ‘You’re a lovely girl, Carly,’ said Cormac, his face sincere. ‘You’ve brought back the old Fergus.’ He spoke slowly and melodically while Carly stared unblinking at Fergus. ‘After the illness he wasn’t himself, he took the hearing loss hard. In shock he was, to tell the truth. Lost his job and his self-confidence. Terrible thing to watch something like that happen to your child.’ Cormac shook his head as if remembering. ‘And then you came along with your kick-up-the-bum attitude and he was determined to learn sign language so that he could talk to you.’

Carly turned to Cormac, still crouched at her side. ‘Did he say that?’ she asked, engrossed in the alternative side of the story she knew so well.

‘He did. You put the fire back in his belly, so you did. We couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend for our boy.’ Cormac opened his arms and Carly leaned in for a hug. She didn’t mean to cry but she didn’t seem entirely in control of the tears; at the moment they came and went at will as the emotions ebbed and surged.

A strained voice from the bed made them spring apart. ‘Fiancée. She’s my fiancée.’

Jack was sitting on the back step of the ambulance when Rhonda pushed past the police and ran to him.

‘A customer came in and said there was an ambulance, a fire engine and police.’ She waved her arms about, just missing Jack’s head. ‘What the hell has happened here?’ continued Rhonda, scanning the front garden and taking in Jack’s naked torso. Jack went to lift up his mask and Clark wagged a finger at him so he left it in place.

‘It was the boiler. It must be faulty and it’s poisoned Beth,’ he said. Rhonda’s hand shot to her mouth and she looked back at the cottage. ‘They’ve taken her to hospital. Petra went with her. They tell me she’ll be fine.’ Jack gave a sideways glance at Clark, who saw his cue to join in the conversation.

‘Proper hero he is. Saved her life, risked his own. Mind you, that wasn’t so smart.’ He handed Jack a clipboard and paper. ‘There you go, you need to sign that if you really won’t let me take you to hospital.’ Jack scrawled something similar to his signature on the bottom of the form.

‘If he says you need to go to hospital, you should go!’ said Rhonda, putting her hands on her hips.

‘Leo is missing,’ said Jack, his voice anxious.

Rhonda looked like someone had slapped her. ‘Are you sure?’

‘He was with me at the pub but he wanted to put his big Easter egg somewhere safe at home. I should have walked him to the door instead of watching him because once he was past the willow tree I couldn’t see him and I assumed—’

‘It’s not your fault,’ said Rhonda, cutting him off. Her eyes alternated from his face to his ripped torso.

‘It is my fault,’ said Jack, standing up. He held on to the ambulance until he was sure of his steadiness.

‘Go to your GP tomorrow, ask for a blood test to check your carboxyhaemoglobin level,’ said Clark. ‘Take this with you.’ He tore off a carbon copy of the form and handed it to Jack.

Jack saluted him, took off the oxygen mask and swapped it for the form.

‘What shall I do?’ asked Rhonda.

‘We need to search the village.’

‘I can round a few people up to do that.’

‘Great. If Leo’s here we have to find him fast because when Beth comes round he’s the first person she’s going to want to see.’

‘If he’s here?’ questioned Rhonda, her forehead creased into a deep frown worthy of someone far older.

Jack didn’t want to share what was going through his head and as Rhonda’s expression changed to horror it appeared he didn’t need to. Dark thoughts were dominating his mind. He guessed it was down to the carbon monoxide but he could still picture Beth lying on the sofa and the awful sensation that had accompanied it when he had feared he was too late to save her. Question was, was it too late to save Leo?

Jack splashed his face with water. He was tired and dirty. His body ached and his head still throbbed. He’d left Rhonda checking for Leo at the last few houses and gardens on the village green while he got himself a T-shirt. It appeared that the sight of him topless had rendered a couple of women speechless and was definitely distracting Rhonda. Doris was very pleased to see him and was nudging her food bowl round the kitchen hopefully. Jack went upstairs to get a clean top and Doris followed him, then peeled off to the spare bedroom where he could hear her making odd little grunting noises. He pulled the top over his head and took a peek at what Doris was up to. She was rolling on the sleeping bag with her legs in the air.

Jack smiled at her. ‘Come on, Doris. Does it smell of Leo?’ Doris got up and trotted past him and down the stairs. Jack looked from her to the sleeping bag – he had an idea. After a full two minutes of waving the sleeping bag under Doris’s nose, feeding her a treat and repeating ‘Leo’ countless times he felt they were ready to give their experiment a go. He clipped on her lead and they set off in search of Leo.

The police were now stepping up their interest and another patrol car had parked by the green. Leo had been missing for nearly an hour and nobody had seen him since he left the pub. Jack was mentally berating himself for not having waited a few more minutes. If he had would he have seen that Leo couldn’t get inside? Would he have found Beth sooner? Whatever way he thought about it he knew Leo would be safe if he hadn’t taken his eyes off him and the guilt made him feel sick.

A picture of Beth laughing flashed through his mind but was instantly replaced by a picture of her lying motionless on the sofa. His heart clenched when he thought of her in hospital. The thought of losing her scared him more than he thought possible. He pushed it out of his mind; he couldn’t be in two places at once so he needed to deal with each problem in turn.

He headed for the tearoom; if anyone had a handle on the latest news it was Rhonda and Maureen. He opened the door and the bell announced his presence. ‘Any news?’ he asked.

Rhonda shook her head while she loaded a tea tray with cups and saucers and Maureen plonked down a full teapot. ‘Nothing,’ said Rhonda, her eyes surveying his clean T-shirt. ‘There’s two groups and they’ve searched all round the green and now they’re spreading the net wider.’ Rhonda sounded like she was giving a report on Crimewatch.

‘One lot have gone towards Henbourne,’ said Maureen, her usual gruffness somehow softer.

‘The others are doing a wider house-to-house,’ chipped in Rhonda. ‘We’ll do tea for them all when they’re back.’

Doris was pulling to get inside, drawn by the smell of cake that was wafting out. ‘Great, thanks, ladies.’ He pulled Doris back and set off towards the cottage. He stopped by the willow tree and parted the fronds to peer inside, but there was no sign of Ernie. Come to think of it, Jack hadn’t seen Ernie all day. He told Doris to sit and because he had a treat in his hand she obeyed instantly.

‘Leo. Doris, find Leo.’ He gave her a treat, she inhaled it and wagged her tail. He stood up straight. ‘Find Leo,’ he repeated. Feeling like a prize idiot he checked no one was watching over his shoulder. Doris certainly didn’t look like a sniffer dog but he had to try. Doris stared at him hopefully but remained sitting and lifted a paw. ‘This is useless. Come on.’ They set off past the pub and down to the ford. Two groups of parents were sitting on the grass nearby where a few children were running about in the water and some others further up were feeding bread to the ducks.

‘Have you seen a young boy here today? Six years old, dark hair?’ he called. They all shook their heads. He marched on over the small footbridge and out of the village. He’d walk his usual jogging circuit as he didn’t have the energy or lungpower to run right now.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Beth balled up the cloth in her fists and pulled hard at the sheet she was lying on. Leo was on a conveyer belt being propelled away from her and towards Nick who stood on the other side of the canyon, his arms folded and his expression smug. She felt something up her nose and she tried to dislodge it but someone took her hand away from her face. Her eyes popped open and for a moment all she could see was white light that emphasized the pain in her head and made her blink hard. Her eyes darted about her alien surroundings and she saw nothing that was familiar to her. She was suddenly confused and still had the uncomfortable sensation of something up her nose, but her hand was being held down.

‘Can you hear me?’ said a soft voice to her left. Beth turned to look, trying to clear the fuzz that was currently occupying her head and stem the anxiety she felt rising inside.

‘I’m a nursing assistant, you’re in hospital,’ said the voice.

A frown burrowed across Beth’s forehead as she tried hard to focus on the rather young person in blue seated on her left. Confusion turned to panic. She tried again to reach her nose and was thwarted by the warm touch of the nurse’s hand.

‘It’s oxygen,’ she said. ‘It’s helping you. You’re going to be fine. Your friend will be back in a minute. I’ll go and tell Staff Nurse that you’re awake.’

Beth was trying hard to make sense of what was going on. Was she still dreaming? Her mind would have been a blank had it not been filled with something akin to swirling marshmallow. She felt sick and she wanted to sleep but she also wanted to know what the hell was going on. She closed her eyes until the sound of someone moving the chair next to her forced her curiosity and she opened an eye. She watched Petra’s bottom jiggle about as she moved her bag and coat off the seat.

‘Petra?’ said Beth, her voice barely a croak. She was still totally confused but pleased to see something she recognized even if it was Petra’s behind.

‘Dovraga!’ Petra held on tight to her paper cup and cursed in Croatian. ‘You’re awake! I was here for ages and I only left for the toilet and this,’ she said, waving the cup. ‘Oh, but this is very good that you wake up, even if I am not here.’ She gave Beth a kiss on the cheek before sitting down. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Rubbish,’ said Beth, her hand reaching up to touch the tubes that were uncomfortably violating her nostrils. She tried to swallow but her mouth and throat were too dry. ‘Leo?’ He was always the first thing on her mind, even when her mind was a blur of confusion.

‘He’s fine,’ said Petra sharply and she began fussing with Beth’s covers.

‘What’s going on? Why am I here?’ She gazed around to check her surroundings again but still nothing rang any bells – she had no recollection of how she had got there.

‘Your boiler is leaking gas. It made you very sick and you collapsed.’

Beth stared at Petra while her addled brain attempted to take in the information.

‘The boiler?’ said Beth. Her head hurt and her brain felt like it was on a go-slow. Nothing was making sense.

‘Jack got you out. I came with you in the ambulance.’

‘Ambulance? I don’t remember,’ said Beth, shaking her head a fraction. It was a frightening feeling that something serious had happened and yet she had no recollection of any of it.

‘I am sorry. I think the plumber was a not very good one. Jack worked it out and ran out of the pub and I wondered what …’

‘Where is Jack?’ asked Beth, scanning the busy area as the many moving people and accompanying chatter in the busy hospital ward started to register.

‘I don’t know,’ said Petra, sipping from the paper cup and breaking eye contact. Beth could sense the tension in her voice. ‘Still at the cottage I think.’

‘Petra, you’re a terrible liar.’ Beth spoke slowly. ‘What’s going on?’

She winced. ‘When they bundled me into the ambulance with you Jack was with the paramedics.’ Petra’s expression was one of grave concern.

‘Paramedics?’ Why couldn’t she recall any of this herself? The effort of trying to remember was making her head pound even more.

‘He was lying on the ground. He wasn’t conscious.’ Petra shook her head.

‘Why? What’s wrong with him? What happened?’ Beth fidgeted in the bed, getting impatient with the drip-fed story.

‘When he was rescuing you he was also poisoned by the gas,’ said Petra, closing her eyes.

Beth sensed the seriousness of the situation but without any recall it was difficult to comprehend what exactly had happened, like switching on a murder mystery part way through. But there was one thing that was suddenly very clear to her.

‘Who’s looking after Leo?’

Carly spun round in her seat to check she wasn’t imagining it. Fergus was blinking slowly and a smile played on his lips.

‘Oh my God, you’re awake!’ Carly forgot the wires and threw herself onto Fergus, setting off alarms all over the place and two nurses came running over.

‘Oof,’ said Fergus. ‘Mind the spam!’

Rosemary clutched his arm and cried silent tears, her lips moving in hushed prayer.

Cormac stood up, leaned over and clasped Fergus’s hand in both of his. ‘You took your time there, son.’

Carly moved out of the way while the nurses reconnected wires and started checking Fergus over. Fergus appeared more than confused by the tears and attention.

‘Hello, Fergus. I’m a nurse and you are in University College Hospital. Can you remember what happened to you?’ Fergus stared at the nurse’s moving lips as she spoke.

‘I got engaged?’ he said, looking happy but still confused.

‘Is the boy delirious?’ asked Cormac, swinging his head round to address the older of the two nurses now engrossed in jotting down information from the surrounding machines. The nurse gave Cormac a hard stare.

‘Fergus is deaf, would you like me to translate?’ asked Carly. With Carly’s help the nurse asked Fergus a few simple questions and his correct answers had her ticking boxes with a flourish.

‘He needs to rest,’ said the nurse to Cormac. ‘Maybe come back in a while?’

‘Ach, are you serious? I’ve been sat here so long my bum’s gone numb and now he’s finally woken up you want me to leave?’ Cormac was laughing in between his words but the nurse wasn’t registering any humour.

‘You scared us all, you big eejit,’ signed Carly and Fergus grinned back at her.

‘I have no idea what’s going on but I feel like I’ve had a massive spliff,’ said Fergus, his voice a little wobbly.

‘Tell him his mother’s here!’ said Cormac, losing his whimsical air and pointing to Rosemary still praying at Fergus’s side.

‘I know she’s here. Hiya, Mam, are you okay?’ He tilted his head as far as it would go to the right so that he could see her.

Rosemary smiled and patted his hand while fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘I’m fine now, son.’

‘Will someone tell me why I’m here or is this one of those weird dreams where I’ll suddenly be naked and …’ He lifted the sheet and grinned. ‘I’m na-ked!’ he said in a sing-song voice.

Carly started to frantically sign to him. ‘It’s not a dream. You were attacked with a bottle in a bar when you were out with Budgie and Ryan. You’ve been unconscious for three days.’

‘What?’ said Fergus with a beaming smile, which soon faded as he registered the looks on his parents’ faces. Eventually his gaze rested back on Carly, her eyes red with tears, and he took her hand. ‘Seriously?’

Carly nodded. ‘We thought you were going to die.’ It was the first time she’d said it out loud; the words seemed to unleash yet more emotion and a sob escaped.

‘Hey, it’s okay. Look, I’m fine,’ said Fergus, smiling again.

‘You’re on a strong intravenous painkiller and when that wears off you may think otherwise,’ said Carly. She decided she would keep the news about the surgery until a little later as he already looked astonished by the information overload.

‘What day is it?’ he asked cautiously.

‘Easter Monday,’ replied Cormac, moving round to be next to Rosemary. ‘This’ll do nothing for your Messiah complex, so it won’t.’ He shook his head but he was smiling broadly, now standing behind Rosemary with his hands on her shoulders.

‘Easter Monday,’ repeated Fergus.

‘Look, maybe the nurse is right. Perhaps we should leave you to rest,’ suggested Carly, looking across the bed.

Cormac nodded his agreement. ‘She’s right. We’re all pretty knackered too. We’ll be back in later to see you.’ He and Rosemary kissed Fergus’s forehead in turn. ‘Shall we wait for you outside?’ said Cormac to Carly and she nodded. They watched Cormac and Rosemary grip hands tightly as they left.

Fergus studied Carly, her face red and puffy from the tears. His eyes refocused on her left hand and as he rubbed his thumb over her ringless fingers, a frown darted across his forehead and he narrowed his eyes. She could see he was trying to work out what had happened.

She very gently touched his chin so that he would look up and see her speak; she was suddenly exhausted and too tired to be bothered to sign. ‘The ring is safe in my pocket. I didn’t want your parents to find out when you were …’ She tailed off.

‘So I didn’t imagine that you said yes?’

Carly started to grin as she remembered Trafalgar Square. ‘No, you didn’t imagine that.’

He pulled her to him and kissed her. ‘Thank heaven for that. My head is all spaced out.’

‘It’s bound to be, you’ve been through a lot.’

‘And the weirdest thing. I’ve got these songs going round in my head.’ Fergus was puzzled.

‘Oh yeah?’ said Carly, getting to her feet and trying hard to hide a smirk. ‘What songs?’

Fergus chuckled. ‘Really crap ones!’

‘How odd. I’d better go, your mum and dad are waiting. I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ said Fergus.

Carly left the ICU with her hand held up in the ‘I love you sign’ and Fergus grinned as he watched her leave. He looked around and picked up the unfamiliar device that was on his bed. He turned it over in his hand, feeling the vibrations, and followed its cable to his iPhone.

‘What on earth is this?’ he said to himself. He scanned the screen of his phone and saw that it was playing ‘We Are the Cheeky Girls’ on repeat. ‘Bloody hell! Were they trying to finish me off?’

Jack was trying hard not to panic but, between him and the two volunteer search groups, they had checked everywhere there was to check in the village and there was no sign of Leo. Doris had been next to useless but she appeared to have enjoyed her long walk and she trotted along keeping pace with Jack. He was racking his brains for an idea, a clue to where Leo could be, but each thought was hijacked by the fear that he was wasting his time, that Leo was no longer in Dumbleford. He stopped for a second and took in a great lungful of air. He needed to think. Who had he not asked? Jack broke into a speed-walk, which took Doris by surprise as her lead yanked her forward. Jack was heading for Ernie’s. Ernie was the only person Jack hadn’t seen all day; he hadn’t been there at the Easter egg hunt, he wasn’t in the willow tree when the drama all kicked off and there’d been no sign of him since everyone had been searching for Leo.

What was a short walk seemed to take far longer than usual because, when Jack quickened his pace, his whole body ached thanks to the after effects of the carbon monoxide poisoning. A few minutes later he was at Ernie’s, calling through the letterbox and banging on the door. There was no answer – Ernie was missing too. Jack went and knocked on the neighbour’s door, which was quickly answered.

‘Hello, Jack, come in and have a cuppa, won’t you?’

‘Sorry, Audrey, I can’t stop. I’m trying to find Ernie. Have you seen him today?’

Audrey looked momentarily disappointed but she soon recovered and pondered the question. ‘I saw him leave about ten-ish I think. No, it was before ten because afterwards the news came on the radio …’

‘Thanks, Audrey,’ said Jack and he pulled an inquisitive Doris away and walked to the corner of Ernie’s road. He stood there for a moment catching his breath as if he were unfit. The carbon monoxide had taken its toll; he hoped its effects would soon wear off. His mind darted to Beth and it spurred him on. He needed to find Leo and for some reason he felt finding Ernie would hold some answers. He needed to think like Ernie and that gave him a sense of despair, for who knew how Ernie thought? It was hard to tell. He understood most things, it was communicating he struggled with, especially since Wilf had died. Wilf, that was it, thought Jack. Where would Ernie and Wilf have gone if they were troubled? He had no idea but he knew someone who might.

‘Stop the bloody banging!’ yelled Shirley moments before she opened her front door. ‘Oh, it’s you, what’s up?’ she said, standing in front of him with a limp cat under her arm. Jack looked at Mittens and felt the panic rise as he squinted at Doris, who was engrossed in sniffing the doorstep. Jack pointed elaborately at Doris and then Mittens, who had already clocked the large dog in her vicinity and was now starting to do something akin to the backstroke in mid-air.

‘Shut the door,’ said Jack softly.

‘Why? Don’t be ridiculous, they’re fine,’ said Shirley but Mittens made a break for it over Shirley’s shoulder and the movement and flash of white landing in Doris’s view kicked off World War Three. Doris charged into Shirley’s house and Jack had to let go of the lead as it was yanked from his grip or risk knocking Shirley over. Shirley shook her head. ‘Well, you’d better come in,’ she said, the reluctance evident in her voice.

Jack didn’t have time for this. His mind was a throbbing whirl of worries. There was no word on how Beth was. The thought of anything happening to her concerned him more than he cared to admit. He dared not ring Petra because the first question would be, ‘Where is Leo?’ And the sick feeling that was overpowering him was less to do with the poisoning and more to do with the creeping fear that Leo had been abducted. The pain that would cause Beth was too much to comprehend. She would never forgive him.

Jack shot past Shirley and she shut the door as a high-speed Mittens came skidding across the polished parquet floor. Shirley scooped Mittens up into her arms and the cat clung to her cardigan like Velcro, her tail the size and colour of a bleached toilet brush. Doris came to a halt in front of them and proceeded to bark her excitement.

‘Now stop,’ said Shirley and she bent her small frame forward and rested a bony finger on Doris’s wet nose. Doris stopped barking and went to lick the finger, her eyes shooting to the cat who was now very close indeed. Jack went to grab Doris’s collar. ‘No!’ said Shirley firmly. ‘They need to sort this out between the two of them.’

Jack struggled to think of a worse idea. ‘I think they said the same about Germany and Poland and look how that turned out!’ He agitatedly ran his hands through his hair. Shirley gave him an old-fashioned look. ‘I’m kind of in a hurry,’ said Jack, checking his watch and wishing he hadn’t as it reminded him of how long Leo had been missing and that it would soon start to get dark.

Shirley ignored him and carried Mittens off into the kitchen with Doris trotting after her in silence. Jack stood in the hallway shaking his head. This was getting him nowhere and precious time was ticking away. He could now see a glimpse of the madness of Dumbleford that Beth referred to.

The kitchen door reopened. Shirley came out and carefully closed the door behind her. Jack gave her a quick once-over with his eyes but she appeared to be all intact – no scratches, no bite marks.

‘Don’t worry about them. What was it you were in such a hurry for?’ asked Shirley.

‘Yes, right,’ said Jack, reordering his thoughts. ‘Wilf and Ernie, was there somewhere they liked to go? Or perhaps a place they played when they were children?’

Shirley was staring at Jack like he’d gone loopy. ‘Why?’

‘Leo and Ernie are missing.’

Shirley drummed her fingers across her lips while she thought. ‘They used to play at the farm, we all did,’ said Shirley, her face softened by a smile as her eyes wandered off to somewhere over Jack’s right shoulder.

‘Bramble Hill Farm?’ asked Jack, his mind whirring away trying to work out his quickest route there.

‘Yes, we had such jolly good fun up there, me and the boys,’ said Shirley with a girlish giggle and Jack’s eyes widened.

‘Anywhere else?’

Shirley gave a pout as she thought. ‘On the green, obviously, and the farm and all the fields around and about.’

Jack felt his shoulders sag. Fields and countryside surrounded the village; it was impossible to cover it all before dark but he started towards the front door all the same. A thought struck him. ‘Was there anywhere that was a sanctuary, Shirley? Somewhere you would escape to?’

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