Secrets Beneath The Sea

Chapter Two

Chapter Two“We came to the village a few years ago, my ex-husband, Joe wanting a more peaceful existence. We'd lived in London for ten years and wanted to get out of the rat race.”

“Understandable. I've lived here for several years since moving down from Birmingham. I like the pace of life here.”

She smiled, Jake studying her face. She looked to be roughly his age, dark curly hair showing the first shoots of grey. An attractive face looked back at him, the man noting the dark smudges under her eyes, along with a sallow complexion at odds with the warm summer that they'd been subjected to. “You may have heard of him. Joseph Thorne.”

“The writer? Yes, I've heard of him. I've even read one of his books, The Winding Lane. It was very good.”

“Do you like horror?” she asked inquisitively.

An image flashed before his eyes. A vampire lying beneath him. A memory from a distant place that was woven into Jake's subconscious. “Yeah. Kinda,” he replied evenly. “Always fascinated me.”

“Well, I'm more of an Emily Bronte fan. Don't like things that go bump in the night. Anyway, where was I?”

“You moved here a few years ago.”

“Oh yes. Joe had recently hit the big time, with a movie deal in the offing. Because of the nature of his work, he decided that it would be better if we all moved to Cornwall to help him focus on his craft.” Her voice was soft, with little or no accent that Jake could detect. “Our daughter, Lauren, was about three at the time. And for a long period, things seemed perfect.”

“You mentioned that your daughter was taken. By whom?” Jake asked, the first tendrils of unease washing over him.

“When we came here, Joe was finishing another book. He began frequenting the village pub, hearing tales from some of the locals who would talk to him. Apparently, the lighthouse that you must have seen on the way here has been owned by the same family for generations. The Longford's. I believe that one of them took Lauren.” She walked across the kitchen, picking up a framed photograph that she duly handed to Jake.

“Nice picture,” he said, looking at the girl who sat staring back at him, an uneven smile on her face. She'd inherited her mother's looks, the same brown curly hair, the features very similar. It was a beautifully taken shot, capturing a carefree girl with a beaming smile. “How old is Lauren?”

“Nine. When she was taken, she'd just celebrated her eighth birthday. That was just over a year ago.” She paused, taking a sip of coffee. “I was saying about the lighthouse. It's inextricably linked to everything and everyone in Towan Point. As are the Longford's. They also own the pub, along with a few properties within the village. Joe became fascinated by the local legends surrounding the family and decided to write a story based on them. He tried to make contact with them but was rebuffed on every occasion. However, he became friendly with a barmaid at The Narwhal, who offered him plenty of inspiration for his book, and a lot more besides. I found out about the affair just over a year ago.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear about that. Sounds like you've been through the mill, Emma.”

“You could say that. One of the Longford's henchmen turned up one day, pinning Joe to the front door, telling us that this Ciara had fallen pregnant. Joe tried to wriggle out of it, but as soon as I knew what I'd suspected, I ended it. They're a nasty bunch too, the Longford's. Joe managed to find out that they're involved in some pretty shady activities.”

“Like what?”

“Smuggling. But he never found out exactly what they are smuggling. Could be anything. Drugs, weapons, people.”

“So, where is Joe now?” Jake continued, his heartbeat beginning to increase as he was pulled into the web.

“He was told to leave the village, which he refused initially. When a group of them turned up outside, it turned ugly. They set about us all, Joe receiving the worst punishment. Lauren and I were hurt trying to protect him. A few days later when we arrived home from school, he'd gone.”

“Have you heard from him since?”

“Yes. He's living in Spain. A place called Yegen, in Andalucía. Do you know the area?”

“Not really. I've been to the Costa del Sol a few times, but never ventured too far from the beach. What's he doing there?”

“Writing. And hiding.”

“So, what happened to your daughter?”

“Honestly, I'm not sure. I involved the police, but they came back with nothing. She was playing in the garden while I was painting in here. That's what I do, I'm a full-time artist. Anyway, I went outside to call Lauren in for lunch, but she was gone. The police said that she'd probably ventured too close to the cliffs that are a few hundred yards away from here. They found one of her trainers,” Emma said before emotions boiled over. She wept silently, burying her head in her hands.

Jake looked around the kitchen, seeing a box of tissues next to the sink. He grabbed the box, handing it to Emma who accepted it with a sniffle. “Take your time, Emma,” he offered reassuringly.

“Thank you.” She blew her nose, wiping the tears from her face before composing herself. “The police and local coastguard looked for her for a few days before abandoning the search. And since then, life for the village has returned to normal. No one ever talks about it. It's as if it never happened.”

“I'm so sorry, Emma. A few years ago, my mother was swept out to sea in Tintagel. We went through a similar thing. After a few days, they called off the search. Her body was never found,” he lied, knowing that if he explained how she'd been taken by a vampire and transported to a parallel world, the woman would eject him from the cottage very quickly.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “I'm really sorry, Jake.”

“It's okay. It was a few years ago now. Anyway, we're here to talk about Lauren,” he replied almost too brusquely. “Sorry, that sounded a bit blunt. I just want to get as much information as possible before we proceed.”

“That's okay. I totally understand,” she replied, smiling at him. “The girl that Joe had the affair with also vanished, around the time that Lauren went missing. Same thing happened, the police quickly brushed it under the carpet. There were rumours that she'd fallen pregnant, being banished from the village because of the shame she'd brought on her family. No one's seen her since.”

“Do you speak to your ex-husband? Did he come back when Lauren went missing?”

“Did he f**k!” she spat, Jake shocked by the outburst. “He said that it was a tragic accident and that I should accept it and move on with my life. But how can I? My husband cheated on me, which to be fair, I can handle. But to lose my daughter, with no explanation as to how or why she vanished – well, I cannot move on from that.”

“Okay. So, how do you want to play this?”

She smiled at him over the rim of her mug, placing it before her. “So, you're willing to help me?”

“I am,” he stated. “Don't hold out too much hope though. It's been over a year and the police will not offer much information. And it looks like the locals may be a closed book too.”

“I understand. The fact that you're willing to help is enough for me.” The garden lit up, the flash of lightning followed a few seconds later by a crackle of thunder. The kitchen seemed to darken, the downlighters doing their best to ward off the gloom outside.

Jake shuddered, feeling the temperature in the kitchen begin to drop a few degrees. “You wouldn't think it was supposed to be summer,” he remarked, nodding towards the garden.

“I know,” she replied, walking over to the fireplace that sat on a far wall. She bent down, dropping a few logs onto the dying embers before walking back to the table. “You should come here in the winter. To say it can be bitter is an understatement.”

Jake drained his mug, watching as the logs begin to catch, a degree of warmth emanating from the hearth. “It's the same in Tintagel. Lovely in the summer, desolate in the winter. But we love it.”

“Are you married?” the question was blunt, taking Jake by surprise.

“I used to be,” he replied. “But not anymore. I live with my daughter, Alicia.”

“Any family?”

Jake needed to be guarded, not wanting to divulge too much information. Information that only a select few people knew about. “No, except an uncle who lives nearby.”

Sensing that the man didn't want to open old wounds, Emma changed tack seamlessly. “If you're going to help me, the best place to start is with Joe.”

“Your ex-husband?” Jake asked, confusion spreading across his face. “But he lives in Spain?”

“I know. But you'll get no help from the locals. You may even find them unreceptive to you being here snooping around.” Jake thought back to the lone figure who'd pointed at him earlier in the day. “Joe has never spoken to me about what happened. We've barely discussed Lauren's disappearance either. But he knows that I'll never travel to Spain. I'm terrified of flying and the thought of driving there is too daunting. I'm not much of a traveller y'see. Driving out to the local supermarket, or to Truro to sell my paintings is as far as I ever go. And Joe knows this. But if you turned up on his doorstep, you may be able to shed some light on the secrets that he's keeping from me.”

“Flying to Spain is not going to be cheap?” Jake stated evenly, a feeling of uncertainty creeping inside him.

“I know. But I live a very comfortable existence, money-wise. Joe sends me fifty percent of his royalties every three months. Plus, I make a modest living from my paintings and sculptures. So, money is not an issue. All you have to do is agree to it?”

“Okay,” Jake said, checking his watch. “I'll be happy to help you. I will need to speak to Wilf and Jo, to make sure that Alicia is taken care of while I'm away.”

“Thank you, Jake. When can you start?”

“Monday. Is that okay?”

She nodded. “Perfect.”

“Okay. I will book my flights when I get home and keep you updated as much as possible. I should imagine that I'll probably need to spend a few days in Spain, so I'll buy an open return.”

“Whatever you think is best. Do you require an up-front payment?”

Jake smiled, shaking his head. “That's not necessary. I'll send an invoice at some point, but let's focus on the task in hand.” Something came to him, a question that he'd not yet asked. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What do you think actually happened to your daughter?”

Her face dropped slightly, the woman taking a deep breath. “This is where I need you to have an open mind, Jake. I think she's at the lighthouse. I think the Longford's took her in revenge of what Joe did with Ciara. And I believe that she's still alive. My daughter is alive, Jake. Please find her.”