

### About the Book

Abi returns from her honeymoon to find a threatening letter on the doormat. Her new friend Alice says her sister and brothers are claiming she's secretly in possession of a priceless Russian tiara and associated jewels, and they insist on having their share ‒ and they are already arranging to take her to court.

This is news to Alice, so Abi and Alice, with their new husbands set out to search the creepy old house that Alice has recently purchased.

A neighbour says she has heard wailing coming from the house, and Abi's childhood fear that the house is haunted seems to be confirmed when she sees a woman's face staring out between the bars of a basement window at night.

The search for the Russian treasure leads to an unpleasant encounter with a dominating father and aunt. More problems for Abi to solve, in between running Button Up coffee shop with her co-owner Melanie Upton, who has romantic news to share. This time it sounds as though it could be promising ‒ with just one small drawback.

## Ghouls and Jewels

### An Abi Button Cozy Mystery Romance #4

by

Lizzie Lewis ©2020

This eBook ISBN: eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-64-3

Also available as a paperback

paperback ISBN: 978-1-912529-63-6

Published by

White Tree Publishing

Bristol

UNITED KINGDOM

wtpbristol@gmail.com

Full list of books and updates on

www.whitetreepublishing.com

_Ghouls and Jewels is_ a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this abridged edition.

### Table of Contents

Cover

About the Book

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

More Abi Button Books

About White Tree Publishing

### An Abi Button

### Cozy Mystery Romance #4

Chapter 1

I've never seen a threatening letter before. Not a real one. And we certainly didn't expect to find one lying with our other mail on the doormat when we came back from our honeymoon on Friday evening, even though it wasn't addressed to me.

Danny and I had been married one day short of two weeks. After our Saturday wedding we spent our first night in an airport hotel before flying to Lake Garda in Italy where we spent twelve blissful nights.

So far, our marriage is working out excitingly well, and I'm sure our new friends Alice and Rupert Forrester feel the same about their marriage. They shared the wedding with us. No cross words, but obviously the inevitable minor misunderstanding now and again. That's me and Danny. Possibly more me than Danny.

I have to say we're totally compatible. We both squeeze the toothpaste tube at the far end. From what I've heard, one person squeezing the tube at the end, and the other person squeezing it in the middle can be grounds for separation.

From my experience of marriage ‒ nearly two weeks enjoying the late September sun in Italy ‒ there has to be more to it than that. After all, the problem would be solved by buying two tubes of toothpaste, and each partner could squeeze it in whatever way they fancied. I can't believe fixing problems of married life is really that simple, so I'm probably not quite ready yet to give sensible marital advice.

We returned home with stars in our eyes. We had Alice and Rupert sharing our house, because their builder still had a lot of work to do to make their house fit for human habitation, rather than the dwelling place of vampires and other unearthly entities.

The wedding had gone as successfully as could be expected in the circumstances. No, it had gone far, far better than I had envisioned that morning sitting in the hairdressers. It seemed that when everyone in the church learnt of the pending disaster, they responded to the plea from Pastor David to rally round.

The church was packed. The table decorations were amazing. The two supermarket cakes Julie Watkins had put together looked and tasted amazing. _Everything_ was amazing. The honeymoon at Lake Garda was beyond my expectations – and that's saying a lot, because my expectations were high.

According to the marriage licence I'm no longer Abi Button. I'm Abi Wells, and that immediately presented us with a bit of a problem. I asked Melanie Upton if we should change the name of our coffee shop. If we changed it from Button Up to Wells Up ‒ the Up part comes from my co-owner's surname of Upton ‒ that would sound like a place where people come to weep.

Although I sometimes find I'm a shoulder people want to cry on, I often say the wrong thing and end up being no help at all. Sort of like Job's three comforters in the Bible, who are famous for giving rubbish advice.

Melanie Upton says we don't want to change the name of Button Up. It will confuse our existing customers who expect, and get, coffee and food of the highest quality. Okay, well, that's our aim.

When Melanie and I started the coffee shop, we came up with the _unbelievably_ brilliant idea of linking our surnames! We didn't dream business life could get so complicated. So our coffee shop is _still_ called Button Up, and to the world at large I'm _still_ Abi Button.

When Danny and I were at school, I was known as Happy Button, and I'm sure Danny also thinks of me as that. Or maybe his special name for me ‒ the Happy Bookworm, because I always had my face buried in soppy romances. And Melanie? At the time of this story she was _still_ Melanie Upton. But I had a sneaking suspicion before going on honeymoon that things could be about to change.

We arrived back from our joint honeymoon late on Friday, and as soon as we opened the front door and saw the mail on the mat, things went south. Or is it north? It could be north, because that's where the Wicked Witch lives. Anyway, there was a threatening letter waiting for Alice, who was temporarily using my address.

Between my house and Alice's there's an area of woodland open to the public. I still think of it as Alice's house, although now she and Rupert are married I gather the house will be in their joint names. It's the creepy old house that belonged to scary old Isaac Newton who lived there as a recluse after his mother died, and he let it fall into stinking decay around his ears.

Perhaps a reminder is needed here. When the old man died, he left a cryptic clue to what everyone believed was a fortune. The first of his four nephews and nieces who managed to solve it would get the lot. They could also choose some items of furniture each, which they could either keep or sell.

Alice cracked the cryptic clue, and because none of her siblings wanted to keep much of the furniture, the good stuff went to auction, and the rest to house clearance and the rubbish dump. Actually, most of it had to go to the dump.

Alice used the prize money, which certainly wasn't a huge fortune, to buy the dilapidated house from her siblings and restore it. I know she willingly paid over the odds for the property, because for some reason she felt sorry for her older sister and two older brothers.

Me, I don't think they deserved it. Their poverty was of their own making, because they used to scrounge from their uncle rather than work for a living after their parents were killed in a boating accident some years ago. When their uncle died, the handouts came to an end.

Old Isaac Newton had been living on his own for years and years, and the house had become really putrid inside. My original thoughts were that the house should be declared a public health hazard and knocked down as soon as possible. The site could then be used to build a luxury house, or two smaller less luxurious houses. But Alice and Rupert were determined to restore Creepy Castle and live there.

There was also a report with our mail from Alice and Rupert's builder that the roof had been stripped of the original tiles, and roofing felt applied. Some of the tiles had been broken for many years, which accounted for the constant dripping of rain into one or two of the bedrooms. But, resourceful man that he was, Brian the builder said he'd managed to find some matching tiles in a reclamation yard, and the roof was now watertight, and looked original.

Brian Warmley was doing the restoration on Alice's house at a very reasonable price, to fill in when things were slack. Brian goes to our small church, and when he heard that Alice and Rupert planned to open their house to small groups and other church use, he immediately offered to help.

As soon as they had seen the builder's letter, Alice and Rupert dashed off to look at the new roof. Unfortunately, it was dark by that time. They returned crestfallen, to tell us the flashlights on their phones didn't do much to relieve the gloom. Even Rupert's large LED lantern wasn't much help. To my mind, that house was going to be gloomy at all times of the day and night, somehow managing to mop up light. Talk about creepy.

As soon as they got back, we took our time digesting the consequences of the threatening letter. Alice's three siblings had been looking through a pile of society magazines that were in the small oak chest Esther kept as a chosen item from their uncle's house.

I have no idea why she bothered to keep the magazines instead of leaving them behind in the house. It certainly wasn't for fashion hints. Esther and her brothers are untidy. Slovenly is probably a better word. And lazy.

In one of the magazines they found a photograph of Isaac Newton's grandmother wearing a fancy tiara, necklace and earrings. According to the report, the "dazzling gold tiara with diamonds and large Russian pigeon's blood rubies" belonged to Isaac's Newton's grandmother. It said she had once been a countess in the Russian Palace in St Petersburg belonging to the Romanovs.

It seemed that, unlike the Romanovs, the Countess had wisely foreseen what turned out to be a disastrous end for the Tsar, the Tsarina and their children. She fled to England with her small girl before the Russian Revolution in 1917. She had also fled with the jewellery in the photograph, which suggested it was of the highest quality and therefore almost priceless.

The formal letter, jointly signed by the three siblings, instructed Alice to hand over the jewels or the equivalent value of them, because she must have found them in the house, and had perhaps already sold them. They were taking her to court to recover their share of the value, sold or not, and had engaged a top solicitor. It certainly was a threatening letter.

"Alice, you're going to be _incredibly_ wealthy," I said excitedly. "That is, assuming you sell them. I don't think there's anywhere in town you could safely wear jewellery like that."

I'm not suggesting our town is dangerous, or even run down, but no one with any sense parades in priceless bling around their home town without a bodyguard. Most of my town was built to provide housing for the cotton mill that closed many years ago. My house was originally built for the senior mill foreman, and Alice's at the other end of the road is larger, and was built for the manager.

Opposite, between our two houses, is a long row of brick terraced houses that once housed workers for the original, small mill, a short walk away by the river. So status was reflected in the type and size of house. They are built of the dark red local brick that seems to have provided the walls in just about every building in town. There's also a play area for small children directly opposite my house.

The first thing we examined was a poor photocopy of a page from one of Esther's old society magazines. Photocopiers don't do a very good job of reproducing photographs, but it was good enough to show a rather elderly lady, looking very grand, wearing a sparkling tiara, with what appeared to be a matching necklace and drop earrings.

I thought she had a rather superior smile. Well, wearing jewels like that would make anyone look and feel superior. Those were the days when people dressed up in all their finery for society events, and surely a Russian countess living in my town would have been of greater news than usual.

The date of the magazine was September 1938, exactly a year before the start of the Second World War. Countess Anna Kerkovski, according to the article, had brought the jewels back from St Petersburg earlier in the century.

So this was Isaac Newton's grandmother. His mother would have been in her thirties by that time, and Isaac a small boy. I felt sorry for Anna Kerkovski. She had come to England to escape the Russian Revolution, and ended up facing the Second World War. The cotton mill closed in the nineteen twenties, but the huge, disused building took a direct hit. Factories in the next town were hit several times, but I gather we got off lightly compared to the cities.

What happened to Anna Kerkovski after the war, I had no idea. She had never been mentioned in my hearing. The only name that was held in awe, or perhaps horror, was Isaac Newton's mother. According to all accounts, Isaac Newton's mother specialised in spreading alarm amongst the local schoolchildren. Or perhaps the local schoolchildren specialised in spreading the alarm amongst themselves, and the old lady was as gentle as could be – unlikely as that sounds.

When Alice saw the picture of Isaac Newton's grandmother wearing the fabulous jewels, she asked me and Danny to help her and her new husband Rupert search the house the next day, Saturday.

When I say _new_ husband, Rupert is the only one Alice has ever had. They're newly married. We had a joint wedding, which some friends hinted could be a disaster ‒ but not for us. The _preparations_ for the wedding were a complete disaster, but not the actual wedding and honeymoon. Great memories there.

My parents had stayed on for a couple of days after we left for Italy. My mother took the opportunity, as she put it, to tidy the house. This meant putting things where she felt they should be, rather than where we all knew they were. So we had a major problem finding stuff on our return.

I know my mum meant well, and she even had the grace to say the wedding was everything she had hoped for, and she and dad were overwhelmed by the love and support from everyone in the church. Well, I have to try to remember that ‒ every time I can't find something, especially in the kitchen where my mother seems to have rearranged the contents of just about every drawer and cupboard.

### Chapter 2

Later that evening I was telling Danny that Alice would be really, _really_ rich if she found the Russian jewels, but he shook his head.

"What?" I said.

Danny, my junior solicitor husband, stayed silent as though thinking deeply. I think it's a trick solicitors learn in university. It makes the client think solicitors are really clever – which I'm sure they are – and are thinking of all the possible obstacles. It also takes up time if the client is being charged by the hour. Or even by the minute.

"It's not that easy," Danny said at last.

"But it's Alice's house now," I protested. "Everything in it is hers."

Once again Danny shook his head. Eventually he said, "The jewels, if they still exist, would belong to the legal owner of the house who is of course Alice. Or...."

I waited as patiently as I could before speaking, which turned out to be a remarkably short time. "There you are then, they belong to Alice."

Danny seemed to be having a problem with his head. He kept shaking it. I hoped it wasn't the start of some nervous disease. "Or ... the jewellery could be considered to be part of the contents of the house when Mr Newton died. His will clearly states that the contents of the house were to be sold and the money shared in equal proportions between Alice and her three siblings."

"Oh."

"That's all right," a voice said from behind.

It was Alice. I didn't realise she was listening. Not that we were anywhere private, like the bedroom. We were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee.

"I've been thinking about it," Alice said. "I know Esther, Richard and Michael haven't treated me well. They never did, because I was the youngest. When our parents were killed in that boating accident, they made me do all the work around the house."

From what I could gather, not much work had been done around the house they shared, because Alice was amazed to see my house which she said was, by her standards, incredibly tidy. By my mother's standards, when she came back from Spain for the wedding, it was apparently on the wrong side of chaos. But that's mothers for you. They only want the best for their daughters. Love you, Mum!

Alice and Rupert joined us for coffee as we sat round the small kitchen table. The threatening letter from Alice's siblings said they had already engaged a top solicitor. Well, they were going to meet their match in Danny, even though he was still a junior with Branks, Davis & Waters. Danny wore a smart Italian cut slate blue suit for work, which was sure to make him stand out head and shoulders above the opposition.

"I've been thinking about it," Alice said, shaking her head, not disturbing her hair which was a bit of a mess, and so wiry that it didn't move. For the wedding the hairdresser had arranged it into earphones on each side of the head, but Alice found it too tricky and time consuming to do herself. So she was back to the style, if you can call it a style, she was wearing when we first met.

I looked up at her quickly, and I think Danny did the same. Rupert showed no surprise, so he obviously knew what was coming.

"Rupert and I have enough money to complete the building work on the house, and furnish it to a modest standard with flatpack. And still have a bit left over. It won't be a luxury house, but it's going to be homely. I've already phoned my brother Richard, as the eldest, and assured him I know nothing about any Russian jewels, or any other jewels."

"They might still be hidden in the house," I said, perhaps rather optimistically.

"More likely hidden in one of the pieces of furniture that was sold at the auction," Danny said, rather putting a damper on things. Just when I was getting excited.

"They might be under the floorboards," I said, feeling a rush of excitement.

"Anyway," Alice said, "I've told Richard to tell the others that if we find any items of jewellery in the house or buried in the garden, I'll sell it and share the money equally."

"They don't deserve that," I said, remembering some of the stories Alice had told me.

Alice laughed. "Richard said that was typical of me, with what he called my religious ways."

"And?"

Alice looked at me and continued to laugh. "And he said I didn't need the money, so the money could be shared _three_ ways." She shrugged. "I didn't say anything. We left it at that."

"Very wise, and I'll tell you why," Danny said.

We waited impatiently while he took his time drinking his coffee. I didn't know if he was once again considering the legal implications, or merely enjoying the coffee which came from a capsule machine that had been a wedding gift. It made amazing coffee that was worth savouring, but not at the expense of keeping us hanging on for words of legal wisdom.

"The thing is," Danny said at last, "people make promises that later on they don't or can't keep, often for good reasons."

"But I really _do_ mean it," Alice said, sounding surprised by Danny's comment.

"Supposing," Danny said, "it turns out that the tiara, necklace and earrings are by Fabergé or some other famous Russian jeweller. The whole kit could be worth, I don't know, perhaps two or maybe three million pounds. Would you still be willing to give away your share?"

I knew I wouldn't. I looked at Alice. She didn't answer, but she certainly looked thoughtful. This was clearly a new idea.

"We have to find it first," Rupert said.

Rupert works as a mechanic in the local garage, and his pay isn't that great. Alice works in the college library, and certainly a quarter share of two or three million pounds would not be something they could easily give away, especially as her siblings would have more than enough money in their share.

"Great thought, Rupert," Alice said. "Let's go back _now_ and look for it."

I shook my head. "The house is completely empty. If it was just lying around there, someone would have already found it. My guess is the old lady sold it to pay her way over from Russia."

"Of course she didn't," Alice said. She had the photocopy of the society magazine with her, and placed it on the table. "This photograph was taken in 1938. This is Uncle Isaac's grandmother wearing it at the time."

I have to say I thought the Countess was attractive, and it wasn't just the tiara, necklace and drop earrings that did it. She had a beautiful and thoughtful expression.

"Sorry," I said. "Brain fade. Okay, so it was still in the family in 1938. It says here it belonged to the Countess who came over from Saint Petersburg before the First World War. Okay, so it didn't get sold to pay for the journey from Russia."

"It could still be in the bank where Uncle Isaac's mother's savings were. If you see what I mean." Alice sounded hopeful.

"Definitely not," Danny said. "The bank was really helpful, and as the solicitor in charge of probate I searched every possible record. And there were no unclaimed security boxes."

"Maybe if she sold it, the money would be in Isaac Newton's grandmother's name," I suggested.

"Definitely nothing." Danny picked up the photocopy of the page from the society magazine. "It's a puzzle though. Having seen the bank accounts, there's no record of a large sum of money being banked by anyone in the family, which you would expect if the jewellery had been sold."

"So it _must_ still be in the house," I said.

"Or in one of the pieces of furniture that was sold at auction." Danny again, being negative. Or perhaps realistic.

"I'm wondering if Uncle Isaac even knew about the Russian jewellery," Alice said. "Look at the way he was living. Like a pauper. Think of all the things he could have had if he'd sold it."

"Sorry, Alice," Danny said, "but I'm guessing it was sold soon after the photograph was taken. It was just before World War Two. I doubt if people were willing to spend the equivalent of millions on jewellery when the bombs were coming down. The Countess would have probably got a pittance for it. In that case, it wouldn't have shown up as a large sum in any of their bank accounts."

I thought Alice looked disappointed. She nipped upstairs and came back with her iPad. "I was reading up about tiaras when you and Abi were chatting down here, Danny. You're right, some of the big auction houses have been selling Russian tiaras on their own for vast sums. A matching set like that by Fabergé would be almost priceless."

"Do the auction houses have pictures on the website?" I asked. The idea I had in mind wasn't exactly brilliant, but it wasn't bad.

"You're wondering if anything has been sold recently that looks like the jewellery in the picture? Something that the buyer of a piece of Uncle Isaac's furniture discovered hidden inside." Alice said, guessing what I had in mind.

"More likely it would be in a catalogue for forthcoming sales," I said. "If someone _has_ found it hidden, it's going to take some time to get into an auction."

"It could certainly present a challenging legal situation concerning ownership, but I don't think it _was_ in any of the furniture," Danny said. "Alice, you and your siblings opened every drawer and cupboard in the house, searching for the answer to the cryptic clue."

"We did," Alice agreed. "The only place it might have been hidden was in the writing desk, and Richard smashed it up on the spot, looking for a hidden drawer."

"Vandalism," I said. "I was there at the time, remember. In that case it _must_ be under the floorboards."

"Or sold long ago," Danny reminded us. I wished he wouldn't keep saying that. The idea of a treasure hunt was so exciting.

"We need a proper metal detector," I said, remembering how Danny and I searched the spines of books with a small DIY detector intended to find hidden pipes in walls. My bright idea at the time was that Mr Smelly had slipped gold coins into the spines of the books in his large library, for security.

"We'll probably only find water pipes," Rupert said, not sounding as enthusiastic as I would have expected.

Feeling exasperated by all the negativity the guys were suffering from, I turned to Alice. "We wouldn't need an _expensive_ metal detector. It's not as though we're looking for a tiny Roman coin somewhere in a ploughed field. I'm game, if you are. We can buy or rent a cheap detector in town tomorrow morning. The builders are unlikely to be there on Saturday afternoon. We'll have the whole house to ourselves."

"Hold on a moment," Rupert said. He seemed much more animated now. "I'm in on this, too. We can argue about who owns it later, but for the moment the jewellery could still be on Alice and Rupert's property." He nodded, perhaps to himself. "You girls can use the detector, and I have the right tools to lever up the floorboards."

Danny didn't look at all convinced. "Rupert is right. There will be a _lot_ of water pipes under the floorboards, You could have the whole house turned inside out, and leave it as a wreck."

I have blonde hair, which got even blonder at Lake Garda. I wear my hair long, parted slightly above my right eye. For the wedding, the hairdresser managed to coil it up on top, and from the look Danny gave me when I raised my veil in the church, it obviously turned him on. However, it needs so many long, dangerous pins to hold it in place that I'm afraid of being arrested in town on a charge of carrying offensive weapons. So for now it's back to the usual, usual ‒ and Danny says he loves it as it is.

I'm always keen to demonstrate that blondes are as intelligent as anyone else. Perhaps even more intelligent, although not necessarily so in my case. "Think about it, Danny. The signal from the water pipes will run along under the floorboards. What we'll be looking for is a strong signal in just one place, with nothing around it. Clever, yes?"

"Okay," Danny said, giving me a hug, probably influenced by my hair rather than my brain. "Yes, that's clever, Abi. Very clever."

"Don't sound so surprised," I said. I turned to Alice. "I'm calling at Button Up tomorrow morning. I won't stay. I just want to see how things are going. Melanie is in charge, and Pete and Hayley will be there as well. Things are never busy on a Saturday. Most of our customers work in the offices around."

"The afternoon will be fine to do the search," Alice said. "I mean, how long is it going to take us to run a detector over the floors? Perhaps an hour, max? While you're seeing Melanie, Rupert and I will try and track down a simple metal detector. The old junk shop by the railway station always has a couple of used models hanging in the window. It doesn't matter how old or basic they are, as long as they work."

And there we left it. Danny didn't look totally convinced, but he seemed to be going along with the plan. Friday night was takeaway night by tradition, and Danny had already phoned for a Chinese.

"It will certainly make a change from the food we had at Lake Garda," Alice said. "I like Italian food, but there's something special about a Chinese takeaway."

I nudged Alice. "I'm surprised you had time to sample the local food. You and Rupert hardly came out of your hotel room long enough to sample it."

Alice giggled. "And I'm surprised you came out of your hotel room long enough to notice, Abi."

Of course, Alice and I were only joking. We got out quite a lot, and went on various boat trips, including a trip on a wonderful old paddle steamer. We also spent a lot of time sitting at an outside table at a café on the edge of the lake, drinking coffee and chatting ‒ in addition to participating in the more traditional honeymoon activities.

That night, Danny and I forgot about tiaras, necklaces and earrings. It was good to be back in England, this time in our brand new king size bed.

Chapter 3

On Saturday morning we could see that the roof on Alice's house looked fine. The chimney stacks had been rebuilt, after removing half the Amazon rainforest that had been growing in the cracks. I wondered if the inside of the house would still be smelly, in spite of the old toilet apparently being removed and the bathroom scrubbed clean by some brave soul.

Brian the builder reckoned he had special paint that would seal in any odours emanating from the walls. For odours, read stink. It remained to be seen if the paint really could cope with the challenge.

We knew that searching the rooms with a metal detector would be easy. There was no furniture left, apart from the large dining table and chairs that Alice had chosen during the distribution of the contents with her sister and two brothers.

The builder's pickup was parked outside, and we guessed some of Brian's team must be working inside. We decided not to disturb them and keep out of the house for now, because we were coming back in the afternoon. Rupert and Alice were to find a metal detector in town, and I was popping to Button Up to see how things were going with my co-owner, Melanie Upton.

Melanie is forty-two, and had been in a long term relationship with Steve Donovan. He had his bonkers grandmother in the house, who caused problems. Steve has dark ginger hair, and so does his small son Liam. I know nothing about his grandmother's hair, but I can't think the colour has anything to do with her mental state.

As far as I knew, Melanie still lived with her equally crazy grandmother, who constantly banged on the bedroom floor for attention, and was obsessively rude to Steve whenever he called in.

I had never met Melanie's grandmother, but had been under the impression at first that she was bedbound. It turned out that wasn't the case. Whenever she heard Steve visit, she would lift herself from the bed and hurry downstairs. And there was no danger of her falling. She was quite nimble on her feet. It seemed she was bone-idle, and loved to have everyone running around to minister to her every need. And I mean _every_ need....

Steve's partner had left him for a younger man just over five years ago. At that time they had a small boy called Liam, who remained with his mother. Although Liam's dark ginger hair was proof that he was Steve Donovan's son, Steve was temporarily blocked from seeing Liam, because his partner had exaggerated the situation to Social Services.

Although Melanie didn't tell me until immediately after my wedding, in case I was upset, Steve's nasty old grandmother had died. As if I would have been upset! So I guessed the way was now clear for Melanie and Steve to have a proper relationship. Melanie had even talked about a wedding. That is, if Steve could get over the trauma of his partner walking out on him. He seemed afraid to commit again, even though five long years had passed.

Melanie was busy serving a customer when I arrived just before ten. As soon as the customer had his coffee, an Americano, Melanie beckoned me to the small table in the corner. It's the table I reserve for Danny when he calls in for lunch.

At that moment Pete appeared. Pete Wilders is a nineteen-year-old doing a college course in the evening. He works for us during the day to help pay his way through college. Melanie chased him away. Looking offended, Pete went behind the service counter. I wasn't sure what Melanie was going to say, but if she needed privacy I certainly hoped she'd keep her voice down.

"Come on, girl, spill. How was the honeymoon? You look exhausted."

I grinned. "Good," I said warily. Melanie was not going to be party to any details.

In Button Up we wear cream and black striped jackets with our logo on the top pocket. We wear oldish jeans, because none of us is particularly good at balancing food and drink when rushing around at busy times. Since I wasn't working that day, I didn't bother to change into my uniform.

"You'd better go and give Pete a hand serving that new customer," I said, feeling myself going red. "Don't tell her, Abi," I said under my breath. "Whatever you do, don't tell Melanie _anything_ about the honeymoon."

"I'll be back," Melanie promised, winking at me. "Tell me _something_ about it. Steve and I are going on our honeymoon soon, and I'd love some tips."

" _Honeymoon?_ " I should have said it more quietly. The customers turned from their tables with interest. Perhaps nosiness. Or perhaps they were also waiting to hear intimate details of my own honeymoon. Well, they were going to be disappointed. And so was Pete, who seemed to be paying particular interest.

I waited patiently for Melanie to complete the customer's order. Who wants a tuna, sweetcorn and red onion panini at five past ten in the morning?

It took more than five minutes for Melanie to be sitting with me again. "Steve proposed to me on the way back from your wedding," Melanie explained.

She didn't look exactly thrilled, although she did wave her hands with a small diamond ring on the correct finger. I thought it seemed a bit soon after her disappointment with the Italian.

I hoped Steve hadn't suddenly got cold feet, although surely Melanie would have taken the ring off if that was the case. "Congratulations, girl. I mean it. And?"

She made a face. "You know Steve's partner left him for a younger man. Well she's now got another younger man. A _much_ younger man, and he says Liam has to go. So when we get married, we get the kid. It's part of the deal."

I said, "Lucky you. You're getting two guys for the price of one."

No, of course I didn't say that. I said, "Steve's lucky to have you, Melanie. I'm sure you can work it out between you."

"Liam's a nice enough boy," Melanie said. "I mean, his mother's brought him up okay. But who wants an eight-year-old knocking around the house when you're first married?"

"Where are you going to live?" I actually managed to refrain from giving useless advice on the ups and downs of suddenly having a young boy in the relationship.

"There's a nice apartment to rent in a large Victorian house down by the river, Abi," Melanie said. "There's one big problem."

"Which is?"

Melanie gave a deep sigh. "It's not like your house. It only has one bedroom."

"Ah."

Melanie got up to help Pete serve yet another customer. We weren't normally this busy on a Saturday morning.

"So what do we do with Liam?" she said, nipping over to me and wiping her hands in a towel before preparing to serve the customer with yet another panini. What was it with tuna, sweetcorn and red onion this early?

I hoped Melanie wasn't hinting that she and Steve could board the kid with us. Although Liam is pleasant, he can be a bit mischievous and noisy. Anyway, it was out of the question. Absolutely out of the question.

Fortunately, Melanie didn't pump me for any personal details of honeymoon etiquette, and I imagine she knew as much about it as I did, anyway.

Pete, however, had obviously been listening far more closely than I'd realised. When Melanie was fully occupied, he tugged me into the storeroom. I didn't know what he wanted, but I thought it must be something bad. Perhaps he and Hayley had decided to get married next week, in spite of my repeated advice to wait until they finished college.

It turned out I was wrong. His concern was for Melanie. "Did Melanie really say she was going on a _honeymoon_ with Steve Donovan?"

"Melanie and Steve are getting married."

Pete screwed up his face. "I know that. But a _honeymoon_?"

It wasn't actually a trap, but innocent little me didn't foresee where this was going. "Why not? Most couples go on a honeymoon when they've just got married."

Pete was shaking his head. "Okay, I get that, but what are a couple like Melanie and Steve actually going to _do_ on honeymoon?"

"What d'you think?"

"Well, not _that_ ," Pete said, shuddering. " _Please_ tell me old people don't do that."

"Pete, Melanie is only forty-two."

"The same age as my mum." He thought for a moment. "Oh, that's gross."

I had to laugh. "Pete, if you think that's gross, I hope I'll be grossing out sensitive teenagers like you for many decades to come."

Pete seemed satisfied with that, which left me wondering if he knew how long a decade was. Oh well, everyone to their own.

Alice, Rupert and Danny called in, Rupert proudly holding a green metal detector. It clearly wasn't new, but it hadn't had a hard life from the look of it.

Rupert handed it to me to inspect. "I take it you've tried it out somewhere?" I said, as though he was expecting a professional opinion. I'd never seen one like this in action, and the dials looked pretty technical.

"So what do all those knobs do?" I asked. "You don't have time to go on a long course, Rupert."

Rupert laughed. "Nothing like that, Abi. The tiara, _if_ it's under the floorboards, is big enough to give a decent signal with just about any setting."

I noticed Rupert's emphasis on the word _if_. "That makes sense. Grab a table and have some lunch on the house, and we'll all go."

Alice looked pleased. "I've got my keys in my bag. The builder has the other set, so we'll have the place to ourselves. Brian said his team will be gone by the time we get there."

Rupert nodded. "We're hoping to be surprised by what's been done inside while we've been away. Not expecting a lot, but at least the building is waterproof. And with the windows locked slightly open, the smell _may_ have gone."

I also noticed Rupert's emphasis on the word _may_. My thoughts exactly.

After enjoying the Button Up menu, we climbed aboard Danny's little runabout Kia car. I explained about Melanie, Steve and young Liam.

"I hope you didn't suggest we look after him at night," Danny said, sounding anxious. And there was me thinking Danny loves children and can't wait to have a large family. Large? Does he know where babies come from? How scary is that!

"I don't know what to advise about Liam," Danny said.

"It's certainly going to be a problem," I agreed. "Steve works in the large electrical distributor warehouse on the edge of town. He won't be able to take the boy to work, and I don't want him running around in Button Up." I turned to Alice who was sitting in the back with Rupert. "And we certainly don't want Liam running in and out of our bedrooms at night, do we, Alice?"

From the laughter that came from Alice and Rupert, I could see they shared my concerns. At that moment Alice's phone rang.

"Alice Forrester. Can I help you?"

"It's Brian Warmley again," she explained to us, quite unnecessarily, when the voice spoke. Alice's phone was loud enough for us to hear, even though we were driving. So of course I continued to listen, because it probably wasn't a private call.

At that moment a noisy motorbike came past, and for a crucial moment the noise of the engine meant I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation. I gathered enough to know that Brian the builder was not happy about something.

"It's nothing to do with us," Alice said. "We only got back from Italy yesterday evening, and haven't had a chance to check inside the house."

The conversation continued for a little longer, and Alice explained we were on our way to the house now, and I gathered Brian was meeting us there.

"Trouble?" I asked. That was also unnecessary. And nosy. But what's the harm of a bit of well intentioned nosiness between friends!

"Brian Warmley thinks someone has got into the house. The front door is always locked, and the basement door to the garden is permanently bolted on the inside with two large sliding bolts. No one can get in without keys, that's for sure. There's no sign of a break-in, so Brian wondered if we'd given our keys to anyone while we were away."

"Anything damaged?" Danny asked.

"His team think someone is messing around with their snacks. There's a microwave, and they keep stuff in the fridge."

"Rats," I said. "Definitely rats."

Alice took me seriously. "Rats can't open fridges," she said sharply.

"Bears," I said. "I always knew bears lived in the woods. Bears can open fridges. I've seen them doing it on YouTube."

When I was at primary school I imagined bears really did live in the woods, and only the railings along the edge of the road kept them in. I think I must suffer from a rather fertile imagination, because I also thought old Isaac Newton was a vampire or zombie, waiting to snatch small children if they ventured into his garden.

As a child I could work myself up into such a pitch that one night, as I hurried **,** the house, I thought of what could happen if I saw his dead mother clinging to the bars of the basement windows, screaming out at us.

I wasn't alone in this nonsense. My school friends shared similar crazy stories, and Brian Warmley, Alice and Rupert's builder, said the same had been so with his generation. Only the bravest would venture into the gardens at night, and as far as I know no one actually managed to go up the steps and ring the doorbell.

What was it about that house? And what were Alice and Rupert thinking about, planning to live there?

Chapter 4

Brian Warmley is an older man who goes to our church. It took me some time to realise he was a builder. Although our service is informal, I hardly expected him to turn up to services in coveralls and boots with steel toe caps. He was waiting at the house when we arrived, wearing reasonably smart clothes, and obviously not ready to start mixing cement or paint.

"No great harm done," he said, as he greeted us at the top of the stone steps that led up to the front door. "But my team phoned me this morning. They think someone has been getting in."

Alice shook her head. "We've got our keys here," she said. "The only other set is with you."

I bit my lip and almost put my hand up as though I was at school before speaking. "The locksmith would have spares." I turned to Danny. "You'd better check and see if any of Alice's siblings have tricked him into handing them over again."

I remembered how it had been necessary to change the locks just before the hunt for the answer to the cryptic clue. Someone had got a duplicate set of keys for the house from the locksmith, pretending to be from Branks, Davis & Waters.

"Good thinking, Abi." Danny pulled out his phone. "I have his number on here. It's Saturday afternoon, so he'll be at work."

While we waited for Danny's phone to be answered, Rupert opened the front door using the two security locks. Stinky air wafted out. The house was certainly not ready for habitation. I wondered if it ever would be. In spite of spending money on it already, perhaps Alice and Rupert _should_ get it knocked down and build something decent here.

By the time we were in the hallway, taking very shallow breaths, the locksmith had answered the phone. I got the impression that the locksmith was annoyed by Danny's question, because he had already been instructed not to give duplicates to anyone else.

Danny switched off his phone. "Has he?" I asked.

Danny shook his head. "Quite sure he hasn't. He knows Branks, Davis & Waters are involved, so he wouldn't disobey instructions from a solicitor." He turned to Brian Warmley. "So the mystery deepens."

"Brian," Alice said, "I'm glad we've met here. When we were in Italy, Rupert and I were discussing the large cupboard in the hallway."

"You were discussing _what_?" I whispered, perhaps a bit too loudly.

Alice giggled, but soon composed herself. "And we think it ought to be turned into a downstairs cloakroom and toilet. The only trouble is, there's no window."

The cupboard was really a small room with a door that was nearly the same size as the doors to the living rooms.

Brian led the way. "A window isn't a problem. We can meet the building regulations with a suitable fan through the wall to the outside air. And we can put a timer on it so it runs for a few minutes after the light is switched out."

"Tell me you weren't really thinking about this on your honeymoon," I whispered to Alice, much more quietly.

Alice shrugged. I wasn't sure if she realised I was pulling her leg or not.

Brian opened the door and stood back. "Oh," was all he said.

There was no electric light in the small room that was clearly designed as a place to hang visitors' hats and coats. It was now empty, apart from a few bits of clothing and rags on the floor. It looked as though everyone brought their own rags from home to wipe their hands and brushes.

Brian pulled a small LED flashlight from his pocket and shone it around. "Perfect. The toilet can go against the outside wall here, and the fan can go on the same wall, high above it. We can easily drop a mains lead through the ceiling, and you can have a light, and even a small heater."

Although Danny and I had never once talked about cupboards and toilets while we were on honeymoon, I guessed it made sense for Alice and Rupert to make plans for the house where they were going to begin their married life. That is, begin their married life on their _own_ for the first time.

Alice and Rupert wanted to have another look around the house, and Brian Warmley went with them. It was a Saturday afternoon, and they were fortunate to find such a positive and friendly builder, especially as his rates were more than reasonable.

I stayed downstairs. Not much work would have been done on the upstairs level yet, and I had memories of that disgusting bathroom and the damp bedrooms with their distinctive smell. Alice and I had shared a bed in one of the rooms when we were trapped in the house one stormy night. I really didn't want to see it again, even though the bed and the rugs would have gone to the dump in the house clearance.

I could hear voices upstairs, and Rupert hurried down and ran out to the car, collecting the key from Danny on the way. He returned with the metal detector he and Alice had bought in the junk shop that morning.

Fortunately, Brian and Alice were down in the hall by this time, and I didn't need to go upstairs to see what they were planning.

I got a strong impression that Brian wasn't taking Alice seriously as she explained about the missing Russian tiara, necklace and earrings. But when she produced the folded photocopy of the society magazine page from her bag and showed it to him, he looked distinctly interested.

Then he took a deep breath. Rather foolishly, I thought, bearing in mind the smell. "I hope you're not going to pull up all the floorboards in your search. I don't want any of my team falling into holes and injuring themselves."

"I've got the right tools in Danny's car. I popped into work to collect them this morning," Rupert said, in what seemed to be a very reassuring tone.

When Rupert said he popped into work, and he took in their car on their way to town. Both Alice and Rupert have bikes which they keep in my garden shed. Apparently there's a car somewhere back in Rupert's hometown that's missing some bits and pieces, but he won't tell us the make and model. Alice just rolls her eyes when I ask how soon it's going to be ready, so I guess won't be seeing it any time soon.

"We'll replace every single floorboard firmly as we go," Rupert promised

"We'll be pulling quite a few up for the central heating," Brian said. "The house relied on open fires in the past, so there's no central heating pipes. There may be some small gas pipes for the old lighting, but they are all disconnected. Just be careful you don't cut through any live cables, although the electrician is coming on Monday to rewire the whole house. I think the original wiring predates the First World War. We'll certainly keep our eyes open for crowns and things studded with diamonds."

"Tiaras," I said.

"Diadems," Danny said, looking smug.

"Tiaras," I repeated.

Danny shook his head. "Let's hope we're looking for a diadem. Everyone calls them tiaras, but Fabergé never used the word. He called them diadems."

"Oh yes," Alice said excitedly, " _definitely_ diadems!"

"How do you know all this?" I asked Danny.

He grinned. "I've been reading up a bit while you were seeing Melanie. Even though it contains Russian diamonds and rubies, which are valuable enough, the main value would be in the craftsmanship and the maker's name. I'll tell you more later."

Brian said he had to be leaving, and Rupert went to fetch his bag of tools from Danny's car. The man had been busy while I was chatting to Melanie in Button Up. I'd even helped out a couple of times, serving several demanding customers.

I enjoy the company in Button Up, and would probably have stayed for the day if we weren't treasure hunting in the old house. Pete Wilders, our nineteen-year-old daytime assistant and his young girlfriend Hayley would be more than enough help for Melanie, even if we were lucky enough to be busy on a Saturday afternoon.

I looked around Alice and Rupert's empty front room. Was there really treasure under the floorboards? "Come on, why are we just standing here?" I said to no one in particular. "Let's get hunting for Russian treasure."

Chapter 5

What we hadn't thought about were the nails holding down the floorboards. Pairs of large nails that looked to have been handmade out of iron by the village blacksmith. And there were a lot of them. The metal detector beeped constantly.

"What we need," I said, trying to sound like an expert on the subject of metal detecting, "is something that represents a tiara."

"Or diadem," Alice added.

I ignored her. "I don't know if gold has any special effect on a metal detector, but we certainly don't have anything about the right size to test. Let's see if we can find something in the kitchen."

Rupert looked at me, frowning. "Okay, but why?"

"Then we pull up one of the floorboards," I said confidently, "put it underneath, nail the board down, and turn down the sensitivity on the detector so we don't pick up the nails. But we need to make sure we can still find something the size of a tiara."

That certainly went down well with the others, and I tried not to grin too smugly.

The kitchen had been stripped of the old rusty pots and pans during the house clearance, but the old fridge had been kept for the builders. The ancient gas stove had also been left behind for some perverse reason. I couldn't see Alice or Rupert using it. It had small iron grills over the burners that could be removed. Although they were slightly smaller than a tiara ‒ diadem ‒ they would certainly provide a stronger signal than the nails.

I wondered where Danny had gone. I went out into the hall to look for him. I looked round. The door from the basement opened slightly and an old witch cackled, "Come here, my lovely!"

The door then shut but I could still hear the evil cackle coming from behind it. No way was I going to "Come here."

"Danny," I called out in panic.

The evil cackle turned to a deep laugh and Danny appeared from the basement

"That was just so stupid," I said. "Not that I was taken in of course."

Danny laughed his normal laugh. "Honestly, I didn't mean to frighten you, Abi. It's a voice I perfected at school for a play we did. They dressed me up as a witch, complete with warts and other facial blemishes. None of the girls wanted to do it. I think they didn't want their images shattered."

Naturally, I forgave Danny. It had certainly sounded realistic, especially in Creepy Castle.

"Well," I said, trying to regain my sanity, "just never do it again." I had to admit that it was a pretty convincing performance.

The others hadn't experienced the full horror of the situation, as they had been in the kitchen. They wanted to go upstairs to start the search in earnest, but I persuaded them the ground floor was a much more likely place. Also, it was less pongy. Not only did the smell rise, but a lot of it had originated upstairs anyway, especially in the bathroom area.

The front room had been what I call a sitting room or lounge, but no doubt Countess Anna Kerkovski would have called it a drawing room, or even a withdrawing room. That's what posh people do.

This house would have been a major step down in life from the Romanov Palace in St Petersburg, and I felt sorry for the woman. But at least she'd escaped with her life before the Russian Revolution, so that was something she should have been thankful for. And she had escaped with her young daughter and her jewels, which was even better.

I first came to the house with Danny when Alice and her siblings were searching in turns for the answer to their uncle's cryptic clue, which they all believed would lead to a fortune. Alice, being considerably brighter than the others, found it on the third go.

I looked around the large sitting room. Every room in the house was empty, apart from the dining room across the hallway which had been used as a library. That room contained the large dining table and chairs Alice and Rupert had decided to keep, as the only memory of their uncle. The only memory apart from the smell, that is, and that certainly wasn't being by choice.

Rupert was kneeling down to remove a floorboard to hide the iron burner ring, when it occurred to me that he ought to check the space first. Since he seemed to know how to use the detector, I didn't want to show him up. So I had to be careful what I said.

"Hold on, you need to check the floorboard first," I told him, which didn't come out quite the way I intended.

Rupert had the good grace to smile and thank me. There was no signal in the space between the sets of nails. Rupert prised up the board using a jemmy. I was surprised that a car mechanic needed a jemmy. It seemed more like a housebreaker's tool, but was perfect for the job and I certainly wasn't complaining. I'm sure Alice wasn't either.

The space under the board was full of dust. It also looked as though mice had been running backwards and forwards there in years gone by. Maybe rats. Not that they were the cause of the odour permeating the house.

Rupert dropped the small iron grill into the space between the joists, so it would be as far away from the nails as it was possible to place it. He then hammered the board back into place with a very handy looking mallet. If that is something he used for servicing cars at work, I found myself hoping Danny wouldn't take his little Kia there for a check-up.

Rupert turned the sensitivity right down and ran the detector over the board. It screamed loudly. "That's cracked it," he said. "Now let's do the whole house."

I could see a problem straightaway, but wasn't quite sure how to say it. I didn't want to be so negative about this search, because I was certainly keen to carry it out.

Fortunately Alice had the same idea, and she wasn't slow to state it. "The tiara is made of gold," she said, giving Rupert a hug at the same time. Okay, so that's how to put your husband in the right without causing a problem. I must remember that tip.

"So?" Rupert said, sounding puzzled rather than annoyed.

"We don't know how gold reacts with this detector. Also, a tiara is made with a lightweight frame, or it would be too heavy to wear for long without needing a neck brace. I've got a feeling it won't give nearly such a strong signal as that chunk of iron."

"You could be right," Rupert said, "but where are we going to get a tiara?"

I had the answer to that, but I wasn't going to interfere.

"Abi and I bought tiaras for our wedding," Alice said. "One of those will be just the job."

Rupert shook his head. It seemed that a hug _wasn't_ sufficient to get your own way. Oh well. "You bought those off the internet. They look lovely, for costume jewellery, but they certainly aren't gold. Not for that price."

I could keep silent no longer. "But they _are_ the same shape. A metal frame rather than a solid chunk. I think Alice is right, Rupert. Let's nip back and get one. We might as well do the job properly. It's not as though we're rushed for time."

Faced with two determined women, Rupert didn't put up any resistance. My house is only a couple of hundred yards away, so we decided to walk.

We locked up carefully, although I couldn't really believe there had been an intruder. After all, the front door had two good security locks. The windows to the basement had bars on the inside, and could be seen from the road because the front garden had been cut away to let light in. Or maybe it was to show the humble mill workers that their manager had a superior house, complete with a basement.

As we walked back to my house, we kept on the left-hand side of the road, using the pavement that ran past the terraced houses that had been built for the mill workers. On the other side of the road was the woodland, with railings to keep the bears in. However, there was a weakness in that strategy, because halfway along there was an open archway to allow entry for the public, and exit for the bears. Why ever had no one thought of fitting a gate there?

We'd not gone far when Julie Watkins called to us. She had two large shopping bags, and must have been coming home with supplies for the next few days. Her husband Paul is a keen photographer who was pensioned off from the army following a serious accident, in the Middle East, which makes walking extremely painful.

Paul had jumped in at the last moment to take our wedding photographs. He had already sent us an email to say it was going to take him a few more days to get everything sorted with Photoshop, and then he would give us everything on a DVD. I was sure the pictures were going to be really good, and I was looking forward to going through them with the others.

Because Paul and Julie don't have a car, Julie has to do all the shopping, although surely they could arrange home delivery. Every local supermarket offers the service. Perhaps she likes to pick and choose what she needs.

The Watkins have recently moved into the house that had previously been occupied by a sweet old lady called Ivy Smith, a relative of Julie's. Ivy's nephew, Jack, who had been helping to care for her, had been anything but sweet. Fortunately he no longer lives in the town, so I'm spared the misfortune of bumping into him accidentally. Yes, we had briefly dated each other.

"Have you seen the young woman pushing a buggy?" Julie asked. "She's been around here a lot in the last few days. She looks poor, and the child is only a baby. She seems very timid, and won't talk to me. I feel sorry for her, but I can't see how I can help. I wouldn't want to be seen as interfering. Do you know where she lives?"

I shook my head, not just for myself but for the others. They would have mentioned it if they'd seen her, especially Alice. I was starting to think Julie was nearly as nosy as me. Perhaps it's something contagious that residents in my road catch.

I got the feeling Julie Watkins had something more to say. She was behaving strangely, as though she wanted to go into her house, but needed to tell us something she found awkward to put into words.

"We'll be on our way then," I said, hoping that would bring matters to the front. It did.

"I've been meaning to ask you about your house, Miss Newton," Julie said rather hesitantly.

I turned to see how Alice would react. "I'm a Forrester now," she said, laughing. "Don't forget, you and your husband helped at our wedding two weeks ago! And you have to call me Alice, not Mrs Forrester. Please."

Julie Watkins smiled. "Yes, yes," she said, sounding embarrassed. "And a lovely wedding it was." She turned to me. "For you, and for your friend ... Abi ... and for your husbands," she added, smiling.

Our guys were about to walk on, having exchanged pleasantries, but I knew Julie _still_ had something on her mind. Eventually she said, "I'm rather anxious about your house, Alice."

"We've just been to look," Alice said. "Brian Warmley the builder met us there. I was hoping more would have been done while we've been away, but he's getting on all right. What were you thinking about?"

Julie Watkins looked down at her feet, shuffled them, and then looked up again. "It's just that ... well, you know better than I do ... well, I've not been here long but all sorts of stories are floating around about your uncle ... and his house."

Alice smiled. "You mean scary stories?"

Julie nodded. "Of course, I don't believe them. Well, I didn't until two nights ago."

Her smile seemed false.

"It's just kids' stuff," Alice said. "When Abi was young, she says she and the local kids used to scare each other half to death with stories of zombies and vampires and witches in the house and gardens. It's going to be a lovely house now, and Rupert and I are really looking forward to living there."

I wasn't going to let Alice be so dismissive. "What happened two nights ago, Julie?" I asked, trying to sound ever so casual.

"I don't know how to say this," Julie said. "Perhaps I'd better be getting indoors and put the food in the fridge and freezer. I wish I hadn't said anything."

"You _have_ to tell us. _Please_ ," I begged.

Julie put her bags down on the pavement. That was a good indication she was going to tell us more. "I heard a strange noise," she said, lowering her voice slightly, as though she might be overheard. Overheard by what? A zombie? A witch?

"Yes?" I said.

The others were saying nothing, and I was determined to get the story out of our new neighbour.

"Of course," Julie continued after a long pause, "I came here from the city, and this is like living in the country, with the small woodland opposite. There must be all sorts of animals living in there."

"There are," Alice said. "Abi has an infrared camera set up at home to photograph the foxes and hedgehogs and other animals that come into her garden at night. You're right, it _is_ like living in the country. I love it here already."

I wished Alice would keep quiet. She was interrupting what promised to be a good story.

"So it was probably one of those animals I heard," Julie said, getting ready to pick up her bags.

"Hang on there a moment, Julie. Don't hold back because it's much too terrifying to share."

No, of course I didn't say that, although I wanted to. "What sort of noise was it?" That sounded more reasonable. My patience was wearing thin.

"I've seen children running around in the garden, making ghostly sounds," Julie said at last. "This wasn't the local children. They had all gone home to bed. It's a wailing sound. Could it be a fox? I've never heard a fox."

I didn't know of any wild animal answering that description that came into my garden or lived in the woods. We certainly have no wolves in there, and female foxes ready to mate make a high-pitched scream like somebody being murdered. It sounds scary if you don't know what it is, but this was September, not the spring.

"It came from _inside_ your house, Alice," Julie said. "There, I've said it. I hope I haven't alarmed you."

Alarmed us? I was fascinated. "Are you sure it came from the house? I mean, from _inside_ the house?" I asked.

Julie Watkins had picked up her bags and turned to leave. "Absolutely sure. I went close to the house to listen. There, I've probably said too much."

Wow, I was speechless. Julie walked with her shopping bags to her wooden front door and put them down again. I hope she has no plans ever to change that door. So many of the houses in the terrace have white plastic doors fitted now. They keep the draught out, but they spoil the original look of the terrace. My dad lined my original door with special seals, so it can be done.

Julie got a key from her pocket and let herself in. "Enjoy yourselves," she said, as she disappeared inside with her shopping.

I would love to have seen her face. Did it contain a malicious grin? Or perhaps a face stretched tight with anxiety, and eyes filled with terror? She might as well have said, "Thanks for the little chat. Sleep well tonight."

Chapter 6

It was starting to get dusk as we hurried back to Alice's house with one of the tiaras Alice and I had bought from the internet in the last minute panic for our wedding.

Alice's house looked gloomy on the outside now that it was getting dark, and even more gloomy inside. The mean old man had fitted very low power filament light bulbs in the rooms.

"We need some really bright LED bulbs in here," I said. "I'll take the car, Danny."

"I'll go," Danny offered remarkably quickly. "The three of you stay here and start detecting."

Actually, I was anxious to get out of the house into the fresh air, but Danny seemed to have made it a done deal.

In the gloom, Rupert checked that there was no signal under one of the floorboards in the sitting room, apart from the nails. He put his jemmy in the gap between two adjoining boards, and levered a board up with a sharp crack, making me jump. I was wishing we hadn't met Julie Watkins with her tale.

Carefully, Alice handed Rupert the tiara as though it was of great value, instead of being cheap silvered metal with glass "diamonds and rubies" stuck onto it.

"You'd better check it first, before hiding it under the board," I said. "After all, that was the whole point of getting a tiara. We need to make sure the detector can find it easily with it just resting on the floor, before burying it."

The detector let out a wild scream, making us all jump. Well, making me jump for the second time. The nails were on the small side for detecting. The tiara was on the large side.

With the floorboard up, Rupert was on his knees staring into the dirty void. "We have to be careful not to knock a hole in the basement ceiling," he said. "It's really mucky down here. Hand me the tiara, Alice."

With the tiara resting on a thick layer of dust and what looked more and more like rat droppings, Rupert banged the floorboard nails back into place. Then he picked up the detector, switched it on and turned the sensitivity down until it was silent over the nails.

I think it was the gloom that did it. Plus the story of the wailing sound Julie Watkins had told us about earlier. Or it might just have been that I wasn't expecting it. The detector screamed, making me jump yet again. I'd thought that with the floorboard in between, it would have sounded much quieter.

That wouldn't have been so bad if the sound hadn't resembled something like a wail. Like the wail Julie had heard. Hang on, I thought, Brian the builder said his team had complained about someone getting in. Was that connected to the wailing sound? I wished Danny was back with the bright light bulbs.

Rupert clearly had nerves of steel, and he merely grinned and explained that we needed a plan of action. His plan, which sounded good to me, was to go along the length of every floorboard, one board at a time, so we could be sure of covering every part of every room. Any old gas pipes for the lighting would be continuous and could be ignored unless we got another strong signal in one place

Where was Danny with those bulbs? Why was it taking him so long? Had he been involved in a fatal car accident? Was I to be left a widow two weeks after the wedding? Oh, what on earth was happening to me? I had to pull myself together. This was ridiculous. I blamed it on Julie Watkins.

By the time Rupert had covered every single floorboard in the sitting room, without finding anything other than the nails, Danny was back, much to my relief.

The builder had left a pair of steps leaning against the wall in the kitchen, and one by one Danny replaced the light bulbs in every room. He has a good head for heights, and I was happy to let him do it. But even the brighter bulbs didn't do anything significant to calm me down.

I was back at school again, terrified by the thoughts of what might be here inside Creepy Castle, I couldn't get the possibilities out of my mind. I had to hope my subconscious would forget the name as soon as the building work was complete, and Alice and Rupert had moved in to a beautifully furnished home.

It didn't take us long to check every floorboard in the house – without getting a single strong signal. We detected what were probably some small gas pipes. They gave a weak signal and ran under the boards for some distance. In the end we didn't lift a single floorboard in any room.

Well, actually we checked every floorboard in nearly every room. We'd forgotten to search the floorboards in the large hall cupboard that was going to be turned into a smart cloakroom and toilet. There was no light fitting in there, but both Alice and Rupert switched on the flashlights on their phones.

Alice hesitated in the doorway. "Brian Warmley said those were their old rags in the corner. They look more like clothes to me."

She went forward cautiously and disturbed the pile with her foot. Although I stood back in the doorway, I could see what looked like jeans and some sort of hooded top, as well as an assortment of dirty white items that could be underwear. It was probably the builders' changing room.

"Best not to touch them," Rupert said, as Alice bent down to examine everything more closely. "Someone might have used them to clear up the mess in the bathroom."

I knew Rupert didn't share my crazy sense of humour, and this was clearly a serious warning. Alice jumped back a good six feet. He was probably right.

"Let's go," Rupert said. "Thanks for getting the light bulbs, Danny. We'll come back for a rethink tomorrow afternoon. The builders won't be here on Sunday."

Back in the hallway, I could see Rupert frowning. "Listen, guys. I've been thinking about what Brian said, how some of his team were complaining about their food being messed around with in the kitchen fridge. I mean, supposing, just supposing someone _is_ getting in."

"It _could_ be my brothers and sister," Alice said. "They might be looking for the Russian jewellery. I don't like it, but I don't know what to do."

"Don't look at me," I said. "I'm certainly not staying here on my own all night hoping to catch someone breaking in." I shuddered. "Or rather, hoping _not_ to catch someone breaking in."

"Your camera, Abi," Alice said. "You told us how you'd set up a small video camera in Julie Watkins' front garden, when Ivy Smith lived there, hoping to catch an intruder. Could you set it up inside this house tonight?"

I thought for a moment. "In the garden. That will be the best place. The back door in the basement is bolted on the inside, but we could see someone going up the steps and see how they manage to get in through the door. You know, see if they have keys."

Rupert shook his head. "There's only the small streetlight. There won't be enough light tonight."

"No problem. The video camera has an infrared light source. The light is invisible to anyone in the garden, but bright enough to make a decent video."

"Abi," Danny said, giving me a hug, "that would be brilliant. Does it record sound as well?"

"Of course it does. Why?"

Danny let go of me and did some sort of ghostly movement with his hands and arms. "If we're lucky, we might even be able to record the _wailing_."

What was wrong with the man, scaring me like that? I was certainly going to be glad of his company in our king size bed in the night ‒ as long as he calmed down first and apologised.

Chapter 7

I was keen to collect my camera kit immediately, and get it set up in Alice's garden. I needed my spare video camera with built-in infrared LEDs, a battery pack, garlic and a crucifix. Oh, and earplugs in case the wailing started. Whatever was I doing, even thinking about setting up the camera in the dark? I mean, supposing we caught something ghostly on the video?

"We need to get a move on," Danny said, ever the practical one. "We don't want to be late for bed tonight."

I had to agree with him. "Maybe we should leave it for another night," I suggested.

Alice and Rupert were having none of it. "Let's get this sorted, Abi," Alice said. "If there really _is_ someone breaking in at night, we need to catch them. I don't want Brian Warmley's team of builders refusing to turn up for work because they think the house is haunted. It isn't, I know, but we need to put an end to this nonsense."

I wasn't entirely convinced it was nonsense, but then Alice hadn't had the privilege of growing up in the neighbourhood and sharing scary stories of Creepy Castle where things go bump in the night.

I knew where the small camera kit was, unless of course my mother had decided it was much better moved to a different place.

The camera equipment was exactly where I'd left it. A playful slap on the wrist for my mother, who had clearly missed it in her search for things to hide.

The camera body has a video chip that works with daylight, artificial light, and from the built-in infrared lights. This means the video recording will run day and night, setting the exposure automatically, as long as the subject is within the range of the infrared LEDs when it's dark.

There's a sensor in the camera that can be set to start the recording when it detects movement. I made sure I had a decent battery pack and a high-capacity memory card fitted, and I would override the sensor and set it to run continuously. It would run all night without problems.

When we got back to my house we settled for a snack, and a bit of a rest. Perhaps we were still catching up from the journey back from Italy, even though the change in time zone was only one hour.

Eventually we walked back to Alice's house, once again crossing to the pavement on the opposite side of the road to the woodland. Yes, old habits die hard. There was no sense in putting ourselves in danger from bears ‒ and less physical beings.

It's funny how everyone is an expert when it comes to photography. I knew perfectly well where the camera should be fitted, but Danny thought it should be at the top of the steps that led up to the front door, Alice thought it should be to the left of the gateway, and Rupert thought it should be to the right. I knew it should be hidden behind one of the rocks that marked the path to the steps.

No one actually said it, but there was a sort of, "On your head be it," from Danny. Or maybe it was just my imagination. Maybe my insecurity. Supposing my husband was right for once?

As soon as I was satisfied the camera was operating correctly, and had stuck a small piece of black tape over the winking red light – and this was supposed to be a _security_ camera! – I suggested we skedaddled. I could hear voices in the road, and didn't want to be confused as persons of interest to the police for breaking and entering.

We walked casually out of the gate and set off towards my house. The voices were from some young teenagers standing under a streetlight further along the road. One of them let out a long, ghastly howl. I laughed to myself. Kids today are exactly the same as the kids of my era.

"That's what Julie Watkins heard," Alice said, grabbing me by the shoulder. "No wailing banshee. Just that lot."

"Probably," I said noncommittally, deciding not to mention that Julie Watkins was convinced the sound came from _inside_ the house. There was no point in worrying her and Rupert. They were going to live there.

We had the early night Danny had requested, and I have to say I found the large king size bed to be perfect. We were in my parents old bedroom, because our new king size bed would have been a bit of a squeeze in the bedroom that had once been mine.

It seemed almost wrong to be living an intimate life in the room my parents had occupied for as long as I could remember. It was probably where I was conceived.

That was when I understood the reason for Pete's views on older adults and intimacy. Well, if he and Hayley got married and had children of their own, he would soon change his mind. At least, I hoped he would.

I remembered someone in church who was married saying there are three necessities for a happy Christian marriage. A shared faith, a shared bed, and a shared sense of humour. Probably, as we got older, the shared sense of humour would come in handy in shared showers!

After a leisurely breakfast the next morning we left for church. We go to an old chapel that is now a small independent church where we had our joint wedding, and where we first met Alice properly. She's the only one of her three siblings who goes to church. In the way that I first met Danny in church, Alice had met Rupert back in her hometown.

I had first been taken to the church with a guy who had an ulterior motive for dating me. No, not that ulterior motive. He just wanted to appear respectable. Although he quickly left the town in shame, he did me a good turn. It was on the first Sunday with him that I had the embarrassment of meeting Danny. Yes, embarrassment.

When Danny and I were at school we had once had a very brief kiss, which ended in awkwardness. Even though it was a single kiss, somehow both of us remembered it, and we started chatting ‒ much to my then boyfriend's annoyance.

The service starts at ten, and we had to hurry to get ready. It would be embarrassing going in late. Everyone would think that as newlyweds we had failed to get up in time for a very obvious reason. As it happened, that was _exactly_ the reason, so we nipped there in Danny's car to save any embarrassment.

It was here that I not only met Danny, but it's where on the second Sunday I went forward for prayer. Yes, I actually did. And it's there that I asked Jesus for forgiveness, and to be my Saviour for eternity. So, great reasons for thanking God.

The service is fairly informal. Compared to the church my parents took me to occasionally when I was young, it would be considered extremely informal, with a small band to lead the singing. Certainly the modern worship songs were a new experience for me, although we do have the occasional great oldie.

It was Pastor David who had drawn the whole church family together to rescue our wedding after the calamity that had befallen us with only a few days to go. And that's real Christian love for you. Love in action, not just in words.

I got the impression there were a few nudges and winks between the younger members of the congregation when we stayed for coffee after the service, but I was determined to put on a brave face, trying not to go red. But in my experience trying not to go red is impossible. It's just something that happens when you're young. And I'm _definitely_ still young. The classic young, blushing bride.

Chapter 8

As we were walking back to the car, deciding what to have for Sunday lunch, I remembered my infrared camera in Alice's front garden. So I asked Danny to drop me off there on the way home. I hoped the camera would still be there, because it was quite expensive.

It was.

I peeled back the small piece of black tape and noticed the red light was still blinking. Great. It had worked. It also meant we had well over twelve hours of video to look at. I could run it at high speed on my laptop and slow it down if we saw someone getting into the house, and even freeze the frames. In spite of its small size, the camera is capable of 1080p HD video.

Alice had got out of the car with me, and we realised that the sooner we got back to mine and Danny's, the sooner we might be able to put an end to the mystery of the missing food in the fridge. And perhaps discover the reason for the wailing sound Julie Watkins heard coming from _inside_ the house. I wondered if the camera would actually be able to record ghostly figures.

I had suggested Danny and Rupert prepared our meal, and Alice and I would go through the video and call them if we saw anything of interest. That hadn't gone down well with the guys, and when I arrived back with Alice everyone gathered round my laptop as I inserted the memory card from the camera.

"This isn't working," I said in despair.

"It didn't _work_?" Alice asked in horror.

I shook my head. "I mean it isn't working with us all crammed around the computer. I'm going to put it up on the television."

Just over five years ago my father retired early, and he and my mum moved permanently to Spain to a villa in which we had spent many pleasant family holidays. My parents had been extremely generous, and not only made the deeds of the house here in England over to my name, but had helped me financially to start Button Up with Melanie Upton.

The television they had left behind was rather small. I put up with it until a couple of years ago when I decided I needed something much larger and more technically advanced. So after a couple of minutes fiddling around, last night's video appeared on the huge screen.

Of course, lunch was not prepared.

To begin with, I kept the video running at the standard speed. All we could see was the front of the house with the stone steps. No unauthorised visitor.

It was clear that the infrared LEDs were doing their job, shining in a concentrated circle, leaving the edges of the picture in darkness. I speeded up the video.

" _Stop!_ "

I jumped as Danny shouted. I think it was the shout that scared me. Or maybe it was the ghosts.

I stopped the video and rewound it a couple of minutes. Then I ran it at normal speed.

The microphone on the camera had picked up a couple of weird screams, and then two ghostly figures appeared, followed by a third. I felt sick.

"That's really funny," Alice said. "Just look at them dancing around. I wish we'd been there to see them."

I shook my head. "It's a nightmare. It's my childhood phobias all come true."

"It's kids playing around under sheets," Alice said. "Listen to their voices."

I realised Alice was right. I glanced up at Danny and Rupert, and could see relief spreading over their faces. So at least I wasn't the only one who had been scared.

"It's the kids we heard in the road when we left last night," Alice said, sounding remarkably calm and confident. "They must have come back later. I expect it's the sort of thing you did with your friends years ago, Abi."

It certainly wasn't. Going into the garden at night would have been daring enough, without dressing up under sheets. Fortunately it was something we'd never thought of doing.

One of the kids, it looked like a boy, pulled off his sheet and used a flashlight to light up his face from underneath his chin, and raced around howling. I could remember doing that at home. It can look pretty scary, especially in the grounds of old Isaac Newton's Creepy Castle.

The kid shone the flashlight at his friends, and then ran the beam over the house.

Something seemed to scare the kids. They disappeared out of shot, screaming with what sounded like genuine fear.

" _Quick, stop it!_ " Alice said, catching hold of my arm.

I did as Alice said, but couldn't see any reason for the panic in her voice.

"What is it?"

Alice jumped up and ran to the television and pointed to the screen. "Go back a few frames, Abi. Stop. No, go back more. _There!_ "

I looked to where Alice was pointing. Now all my childhood phobias really _had_ come true. The kid's flashlight settled on one of the basement windows for a moment.

With her hands holding onto the bars, a woman's face stared out at us. It wasn't an optical illusion. The woman quickly turned away. It was Isaac Newton's old mother, come back from the dead.

### Chapter 9

"Let's go in," Alice said. She turned to Rupert. "You've got the keys. You can go first."

In less scary circumstances I might have smiled to myself. Alice's bravery clearly wasn't strong enough to be the first to enter. But hats off to her for even thinking of hurrying to the house and venturing inside. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon, and so I was very happy to wait outside.

"We're _all_ going in," Rupert said, leading the way up the stone steps to the front door.

As he inserted the key into the first of the two security locks, I said, "I think I ought to stay outside, in case I need to go for help."

I noticed Alice seemed a little less eager to go inside. "Perhaps we should look in through the basement window where we saw the face," she suggested.

That sounded an excellent idea to me, but not to our two guys.

"You can do what you like," Rupert said. "I'm going in with Danny."

The idea of looking in through the basement window seemed sensible to me. While our husbands foolishly went inside, I went with Alice to peer in through the bars. The bars were on the inside of the window, strong enough to prevent anyone getting in. Hopefully they were strong enough to prevent Isaac Newton's mother, in whatever form she had materialised, from coming out.

As we crouched down to look into the basement, we heard a high-pitched scream, followed almost immediately by a wailing sound.

I clutched hold of Alice's shoulder. It's strange how odd thoughts run through your mind in times of crisis. When I first met Alice she was suffering from malnutrition, but in the following months she had put on a small amount of weight. Perhaps she was naturally thin, but now I could definitely feel a bit more meat on her bones.

"I think we'd better go in," Alice said, shaking herself free.

"You've got to be kidding."

"They might need our help."

I hesitated. Surely our guys would come out at any moment. It was the thought of something chasing them that worried me. This was going to be a real life Scooby Doo moment.

"Alice, Abi," we heard Rupert calling. He came down the steps to see us. "You'd better come in. It's absolutely safe. There's someone you need to meet."

At least he hadn't said some _thing_.

Alice hurried on ahead of me. That showed real trust between husband and wife. Where was Danny?

As Alice ran up the steps to the front door, I followed slowly behind. The wailing noise started again.

Alice didn't seem bothered. Maybe it was because she was holding Rupert's hand for safety.

Danny now appeared. "You'll never guess," he said, shaking his head.

I could guess all sorts of scary things, but neither Danny nor Rupert seemed to be panic stricken.

"I can't catch her name," Danny said, "but here's the intruder. Or should I say, intru _ders_?"

Standing in the hallway stood a girl, perhaps in her late teens, holding a baby that let out another long wail. And there was me being terrified of a small baby. Pull yourself together, Abi.

"I'm going into the kitchen with Rupert," Danny said. "Perhaps you and Alice can gain her confidence and understand what she's saying. But be careful what you promise. If she's under eighteen and a runaway, and she certainly looks as though she could be, make it clear we can't shelter her."

I looked at the girl and tried to force a smile, but probably not a very good one. I hoped it didn't scare her. The baby took one look at me and wailed even louder. I was going to be a great mum!

"I'm Abi," I said, in as gentle a voice as I could manage in the circumstances, "and this is my friend Alice. Who are you?"

The girl had black hair and dark circles under her eyes. She didn't look as though she'd had a good meal for some time, and the baby was dressed in what looked like rags. Probably the rags from the cloakroom. It all made sense now.

The girl shook her head as though she was unable to understand. Or perhaps she was deaf.

"Alice," Alice said, pointing to herself. Then she pointed to me. "Abi."

That should have been plain enough, because if she was deaf, the girl would surely be able to lip-read and understand those were our names, even if she didn't lip-read them exactly right.

She said something I couldn't catch. I nodded to her encouragingly and pointed to myself and repeated, "Abi."

The girl said something again. I presumed it was her name. It had a few CH sounds in it, and some letters that sounded like SK and Z.

I shrugged. It probably wasn't important at the moment. Then it occurred to me that she might be Russian. Could this be Countess Anna Kerkovski's great-granddaughter come to claim the family jewels?! She'd walked all the way from St Petersburg in Russia. No wonder she looked tired. Did I seriously think that? No, but in some stupid way it entered my mind, even though I quickly dismissed it.

I shepherded them into the dining room, where I pulled out a chair by the table for the girl who was holding her baby tightly. If she didn't speak English, we were in for a difficult time.

Alice had a bright idea. She got out her phone and pulled up a map showing the British Isles and Europe. She showed it to the girl who shook her head. Then using her fingers, Alice shrunk the map so it revealed far more of the world and showed it again to the intruder.

The girl shook her head and began to cry.

"Zoom in on Russia," I said.

Alice looked puzzled, and she obviously hadn't twigged the possible Russian connection. But she did as I said, and once again we drew a blank. Then the girl caught sight of the edge of a country below Russia, on the other side of the Caspian Sea. Kazakhstan. I had no idea then and I have no idea now, of anything about Kazakhstan. It seemed as though I was meeting my first resident of some distant European country.

The girl touched it on the screen and nodded. Then she repeated something that sounded like gibberish. Yes, to my shame I have to admit that a thought like that might be considered racist, but to me it _was_ gibberish. I realised that to someone from Kazakhstan it would mean everything, and my English might sound like gibberish to them.

The young girl pointed to her mouth. Clearly she wanted something to eat, and probably to drink.

"We've got to help them," I said to Alice.

Alice nodded. "Of course we do. Do you think Brian's building team will mind if we raid the fridge? Surely not. Anyway, we can easily replace the food and milk before they turn up on Monday morning to make their tea or coffee or whatever."

"Stay here," I said, using clumsy signs with my hands to indicate that the girl should stay put with the baby. I beckoned to Alice to come with me. It was unlikely the couple would do a disappearing act in the two minutes we were gone.

While Alice sniffed at a carton of milk she took from the fridge, I quickly filled Danny and Rupert in on the girl from the far end of Europe.

"We can't keep her," Danny said. "Not until we find out her legal status here."

"Well, good luck there," I said. "We can't even understand her name, let alone anything else that she says."

"I don't like it," Danny said. "Yes of course we want to help her, but we can't hide her if she's here illegally."

I turned in a huff, snatched the milk from Alice and made my way back to the dining room. To my amazement I could hear the girl talking to the baby.

"Don't worry, precious darling, these are good people. They say they want to help us. We have to trust them."

"You can speak English!" I said as I walked swiftly into the room, trying not to make it sound like an accusation, although I probably failed. And in a way it _was_ an accusation. "What was all that nonsense about Kazakhstan?"

The girl burst into tears. I called to Alice to come, and probably because I sounded keyed up, Danny and Rupert came as well.

The girl looked at us, one at a time, then buried her face in the baby's shawl.

"I think you'd better tell us exactly what's happening," I said.

"She doesn't speak English," Alice told me, sounding surprised.

The girl pulled her face away from the baby. "Yes I do. I'm sorry. I'm in a big mess and I didn't know if I could trust you. That's why I pretended I couldn't speak English. I wanted to hear what you said to each other about me. Whether you're going to try to help me or not."

I have to admit it was a pretty clever ruse. Perhaps one to bear in mind if I was ever looking for help amongst people I wondered if I could trust.

Danny and then Rupert pulled out chairs for themselves, and we sat in a group around the table. Since I was the one who had initially made contact in English, I told the girl, "We're all friends here. Tell us what's happened, and we'll try to help you. Promise."

Chapter 10

The girl stared at each of us again, obviously deciding if she really could trust us. I wondered what terrible secret she was hiding. Had she stolen the baby? In that case, there was no way we could help her, other than Danny doing his legal best to sort things out.

"My name is Bethany," the girl said. "I'm ... eighteen."

Two surprises there. The name Bethany sounded extremely sensible, as well as biblical. It was also a relief to know the girl wasn't an underage runaway. Assuming she was telling the truth about her age.

I decided it was best to let Bethany know a bit about ourselves, hoping to gain her confidence. "I'm Abi, and this is my husband Danny. And this is our friend Alice, and her husband Rupert. We're all living together at my house at the moment."

Bethany nodded. "And this is Freddie," she said, turning the baby so he could face us. To my surprise, he stayed silent, looking almost fascinated by my face.

"We haven't eaten yet," I said. "We live at the other end of the road. We called in here on our way back from church to get the‒‒‒‒" I stopped. I wasn't going to mention the surveillance camera. "We called by this morning after church. We didn't know anyone was here."

Bethany shook her head and pulled baby Freddie close. "You go to church? You are religious?" It was definitely an accusation, not an observation.

Perhaps she thought we were going to preach to her. "We're Christians," I said.

She took a deep breath. "Like my parents," she said bitterly.

"We want to help you." What else could I say? I didn't know anything about her parents.

"I'm not married," Bethany said.

Observant me had already spotted the absence of a ring, so okay, that sort of made sense. I can imagine Christian parents might be concerned.

"And I don't know who the father is. They said I couldn't go to that party, but I disobeyed my parents and went anyway."

That made even more sense. But could Bethany's parents really have cut her off like that?

"One of the men must have put something in my drink. I knew something happened, but I didn't say anything at home. I didn't realise I was pregnant for nearly three months. I thought I had a sickness bug."

This sounded grim. "What did your parents say?"

"When I explained about the party, my father said reporting it to the police would bring even more disgrace on the family. So he wouldn't do anything. I was only sixteen at the time. My father controls me the way he controls my mother. So here I am, homeless."

For a moment we stayed silent. In stunned silence.

"If you were sixteen, what happened about school?" It seemed worth asking the question.

"My parents packed me off in shame to my Aunt Erica who did nothing but quote Old Testament verses to me."

Could that be true? "So what about school?"

"My aunt arranged home schooling from an impatient woman who kept shouting at me. I wasn't allowed out on my own in case I made what she called bad friends. As soon as baby Freddie was born, Aunt Erica got worse. She said I had to get rid of the baby if I wanted God to forgive me."

_Get rid of the baby?_ What terrible words.

Bethany sniffed loudly. "I said I would refuse to sign any adoption papers. How could I give little Freddie away? I love him so much, and he's mine."

I looked at Bethany closely. She seemed to be telling the truth.

"Not once did my parents come to see me. I wanted nothing to do with God, if He was anything like my family said. Last week, after months of religious torture, I left my aunt and ran back to my parents with little Freddie." She pointed to the baby. "I bought a buggy on the way, so I didn't have to carry him everywhere."

I found myself desperately hoping her father ran out to meet her and welcomed her home with hugs and tears and kisses, like the father at the return of the Prodigal Son. Really?

"They dragged me indoors and told me I'd brought disgrace on the family, and had made myself an enemy of everything they believed in. Then they told me to leave and never come back."

I gasped. Bethany's parents obviously knew enough about the Bible to give her a biblical name. But no matter what twisted standards of morality they had, could they really throw their daughter, their own flesh and blood, out of the house? They obviously could.

"What about your mother?" I asked, a catch in my voice. This sounded terrible.

"My mother?" Bethany said, sounding surprised by the question. "I'm not going to get any help from her. She does what my father tells her to do. I never remember getting a hug or a kiss from my mother, even when I was ill or fell down and hurt myself. And yet ... in some strange way ... I think I love her."

"I'm a solicitor," Danny said eventually. He seemed to be having a problem controlling his emotions. "If there's a legal problem I'll try to sort it out. Is there any way you can go back to your parents to live? You need to be safe somewhere."

Bethany shook her head. "I told you, they are too religious."

For the first time I started to understand the difference between religion and a genuine Christian faith. Religion seems to be a matter of doing or not doing certain things, obeying lots of heavy rules and regulations ‒ or being in serious trouble with an unloving God as soon as you do anything wrong.

I will always remember Pastor David telling us that the Bible promises God loves us, whoever we are. Jesus wants to be our loving Saviour, our brother and our friend ‒ and surely that's _not_ the sort of terrifying religion Bethany's parents followed.

This definitely wasn't the time to preach a mini sermon on free forgiveness, but I sincerely hoped Bethany wouldn't confuse our faith with that of her father and her aunt. I stood up and motioned to the others to do the same.

"Come on, Bethany, you're coming back with us. You can sleep in our house until we've sorted things out for you."

"No police?" Bethany asked.

I shook my head. "Not if you're telling us the truth." Then something occurred to me. "You're not wanted by the police are you?"

Bethany didn't look offended by the question. She shook her head. "I'm not wanted by anyone. Not even by my parents."

Alice looked puzzled. "I don't understand how you got in. Do you have keys?"

Bethany shook her head. "Harry lets me in."

"Harry?" Alice said. "Who's Harry?"

Bethany gave a half smile, and looked rather embarrassed. "He's my new friend. He's one of the builders."

Things were starting to make sense, but we needed more information.

"I was outside with Freddie in the buggy a few days ago when the builders arrived in their van. Harry talked to me. I think he likes me."

"And he gave you the keys?" Alice asked.

I was glad Danny and Rupert were keeping out of it. Bethany seemed pretty fragile at the moment, and she certainly wouldn't want a grilling from a professional solicitor. Just joking. I know Danny can be very gentle, but he's always conscious about keeping on the right side of the law, and doesn't like taking short cuts. Quite rightly so.

"Harry told me it would be all right if I sheltered in the house at night."

Alice shook her head. "It's _my_ house. I need to know what's going on. I don't want the house left open all night."

I thought Alice sounded a bit miffed, and I couldn't blame her. A builder has no right to leave a house unlocked when they go home. Anyone could get in and cause damage, even though Alice's house was already in a poor state.

Bethany bit her lip, obviously trying to weigh up the situation. Then in a very quiet voice, she said, "I walk around the town in the day. I shelter in shops when it rains. Then in the afternoon I wait down the road, and as soon as I see everyone driving off, I know the basement door will be open. There's no lock on it. Harry leaves it unbolted, and I go in. I bolt the door as soon as I'm inside, so no one else can get into your house, Alice." She paused for a moment, almost looking guilty. "And at the weekend if I go out I have two leave it unbolted. I'm sorry."

Alice friend. "What about the morning, when the builders arrive?"

Bethany bent down to wipe the baby's mouth where he was dribbling. "I leave the house by the basement door early, and put all my bedding in the old wooden building in the garden. Harry is first to arrive, and he goes down to the basement and bolts the door again."

That made sense to me, and I could see Alice looking relieved. I kept coming up in my mind with unanswered questions. "Do you live in this town?"

Bethany shook her head. "I came here on the train from Dalchester. I have some money." She thought for a moment. "Well, I _had_ some money, but most of it is gone now."

"So how did you find the empty house?" I asked. I thought it was just as well to get things straight before we did anything more.

"I stayed in a B&B for a couple of nights, but they said Freddie was too noisy. Anyway, it would have been too expensive to stay there much longer. I was walking along this road hoping to find somewhere cheaper, when Harry started talking to me. It was his idea for me to shelter in the house at night, but please don't blame him. I don't want him losing his job because of me."

"I'll make sure he doesn't," Alice said reassuringly. "But what happens in the daytime? Don't you get tired walking round the town all day?"

"Sometimes we hide in the old wooden building at the back. I think it might have been a summerhouse once. It's empty, and nobody goes in there, so we are safe. But Harry wants me to shelter indoors at night. He's ever so kind. He leaves me food in the fridge, but I am never sure what is for me and what belongs to the other builders. I warm it in the microwave, but I think I sometimes eat the wrong food."

I remembered the old wooden building when the hunt was on for old Isaac Newton's treasure. I don't think it had been used as a summerhouse for a long time, and had become a garden store. I think Danny had even called it a garden shed, and it was in such a poor state it was difficult to know its original purpose. Yes, it probably had been a summerhouse originally, so that's what I was going to call it.

The wooden construction had only contained a few gardening tools and an old moth-eaten sofa which clearly no one had used for a long time, and it would have been emptied out during the house clearance. If the old sofa had been left behind, it probably made the place a reasonable shelter in the daytime, but with autumn coming it definitely wouldn't be the right place for a young mother and baby at night.

Harry sounded kind to me, even though he was offering free accommodation in someone else's house.

"Alice and I will walk back to my house with you," I said.

The guys had come across to hear the end of the conversation. I said, "Danny, you take Rupert in the car, and we'll see you there."

"What about all my things?" Bethany asked. "I have some cartons of formula milk for Freddie I cannot feed him myself some days. I hide it with our bedding in the shed when the builders are here. But now, everything is in that little room where you found me, ready for the night."

By the time we had collected everything together and put it in some large bags that belonged to Bethany, I couldn't help thinking of a bag lady I had once seen in town. Bethany was the first homeless person I had ever spoken to, let alone tried to help. Shame on me.

Danny loaded everything onto the back seat of his Kia and Rupert ran down to the basement and confirmed that the back door was securely bolted. Then he locked the front door. Harry was going to get a shock in the morning when he found the back door in the basement still bolted, and wonder how Bethany had got out through the bolted door!

"We'll get some food started," Danny said, as Rupert climbed into the passenger seat. "Don't rush."

With Bethany's baby buggy containing only Freddie and a few belongings, we made our way back towards my house. I certainly wasn't going to tell Bethany about the bears in the wood. She seemed in no mood for joking.

"How am I going to get back into the house tonight?" Bethany asked suddenly.

I shook my head. "You're not going back there," I explained gently. "You're staying with us for now. Don't worry, we'll sort out something permanent for you."

"Cooee."

I turned to look. Julie Watkins had come out of her house. She waved to us, and we waited for her to catch us up.

"This is the young lady I was telling you about with the baby," she said. "Is she a friend of yours?"

I nodded. "A very new friend. She's staying with us at the moment."

I wasn't prepared to go into details with Julie. And it probably wasn't a good time to explain about the source of the wailing she had heard. Assuming, of course, it _had_ been the baby.

Chapter 11

For some reason Bethany seemed rather wary as I led her into my house. It was designed for the senior foreman at the cotton mill, not the manager, and was level with the ground with no stone steps and no basement.

I think I'd been expecting Bethany to stare around my house in wonder and amazement, thanking me profusely for rescuing her from her precarious life at Alice's house. Instead, she just shrugged.

I immediately felt ashamed of my initial disappointment. There was me, the new Mrs Do-good, graciously tending to the needy from a position of superiority. Oh, the shame of it.

While Alice was talking to Bethany I quickly washed my hands under the tap in the kitchen using plenty of hand-wash. Checking my fingernails and deciding an even deeper cleanse was necessary before getting a few things out of the fridge for our evening meal, I nipped upstairs to the bathroom to scrub them thoroughly in hot water in the wash basin. Hand washing was an essential ritual after visiting Alice's house. Hopefully, the place would soon be decorated, furnished and odour free. I couldn't wait.

Having a baby in the house was certainly a novelty. Although Liam Donovan was eight, I understood Melanie's concern if she and Steve ended up caring for the boy. Am I already settling into a comfortable middle age where everything needs to be predictable? Oh, I sincerely hope not. Not yet. Please, not yet‒ although the idea does have some attractions.

Alice seemed to be more maternal and thoughtful than me. She showed Bethany where the bathroom was, gave her a couple of towels from the airing cupboard and explained how to work the shower which was over the bath. She also made sure the mat was in the bath so Bethany could bathe baby Freddie in safety.

Deciding to do my part, I found some of my clothes that Bethany could wear, although obviously I didn't have any baby clothes. I don't imagine either Bethany or Freddie had washed properly since being thrown out of her home, and they would only have had cold water in Alice and Rupert's house. I shuddered at the thought, realising how completely spoilt I was in life.

I called through the bathroom door and told Bethany to throw all her clothes and little Freddie's out on the landing, and I would wash them. I promised to leave some of my own clothes there for her. It would have been no good asking Alice for spare clothes. She was still much to skinny for Bethany to fit into them.

As soon as the clothes appeared, I hurried down to the kitchen and threw them into the washing machine. Everything was pretty smelly. I added the washing disinfectant I use for our bedding. It means I can wash at low temperatures, but I notched it up a couple of settings for this load.

I could hear a bit of splashing going on in the bathroom, and baby Freddie was giggling rather than wailing. This sounded promising.

"There's a bath robe and some clothes for you out here," I called through the bathroom door which was slightly open. I didn't want to intrude. "I don't have anything for Freddie. You can wrap him in a bath towel for now."

What was I, an expert in childcare? Well, perhaps this was a good opportunity to practise ‒ on somebody else's baby.

"Can I please charge my phone?" Bethany called out. "It takes a standard charger, but I don't have one of my own."

"I'll leave one with your clothes," I called. "You can keep it. I have several."

I went downstairs and asked where Danny was. The question was quickly answered as Danny came through the front door carrying three packs of disposable diapers ‒ nappies. "I went to the corner shop by the park," he explained, seeing my surprise.

"How did you know the size?" I asked, remembering something I'd heard about babies needing different sizes depending on their age.

Alice came out of the kitchen. "Bethany had one diaper left, still in its packing. Danny said he'd go and get more the same size."

"And there was a tin of baby food left," Danny explained. "I got some more of the same. It will do for now, anyway."

I gave Danny a big hug. "You'll make a great dad," I said, giggling. "That was so thoughtful of you."

Why was I saying this? Was I getting broody? We'd only been married a couple of weeks, and I certainly wasn't planning on an early pregnancy!

We waited downstairs until Bethany came down with Freddie in her arms. She was wearing the bath robe over my old clothes, and Freddie was wrapped up cosily in a large white towel. When she saw the baby food and packs of diapers she began to cry.

I put an arm round her, which of course made things worse. That is, assuming it's bad to cry. I guessed she was crying because of the small amount of kindness we were showing her. It made me wonder just what sort of loveless home life she had experienced if something as simple as this made her cry. Or was I judging her parents too harshly? We certainly didn't have all the facts.

With baby Freddie's nether regions safely wrapped up, we sat round the kitchen table. Rupert and Danny had prepared a quick meal of spaghetti carbonara for the five of us, but of course we had no idea what Freddie would eat.

Bethany selected one of the small tins of baby food. She asked if we could possibly warm it.

As we all ate, Bethany particularly ravenously, it occurred to me that we didn't have a cot for the baby, although we had my old bed in my parents' room for Bethany. I said it wasn't a good idea for adults to sleep with the baby in the bed. I knew information like that would come in handy someday.

There was the old bedding Bethany and Freddie had been sleeping on in Alice and Rupert's house, and it was still in the bundle in the hall. But I really didn't want that being dragged around the house, and I didn't think it would fit in my washing machine. It wasn't a slur on Bethany being homeless, but it made sense that it was quickly replaced.

I nodded to Danny. "Come with me. We need to discuss things."

Bethany looked alarmed. "Don't you want me here?"

"Of course we do," I said quickly, trying to sound reassuring. "It's just that we need to decide how best to look after you."

Bethany seemed reasonably satisfied with that explanation, and I went with Danny into the living room.

"Danny, it's great to have the chance to rescue Bethany and Freddie, but I don't want their old bedding taken upstairs." I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. "I know it's Sunday, but the big supermarket will still be open. This is an emergency, so we need to hurry. Let me take the car and I'll see if they've got a small travel cot and bedding in the baby section. There will be other things Bethany needs. Perhaps she'd better come with me."

Danny shook his head. "We don't have a baby seat in the car."

No, of course we didn't. Why would we? But I had a good idea. "Alice can look after Freddie while we're gone. We'll be as quick as we can, but I don't want to end up buying the wrong stuff."

Danny nodded. "Take Bethany and buy whatever you need. Don't worry about the cost. This is something we have to do. The Bible tells us to welcome people into our home, because we may be welcoming an angel unawares."

Good one, Danny. I felt the same way. I knew Alice and Rupert would chip in if necessary, but I wasn't going to ask them just yet. I guessed we would be looking after Bethany and Freddie for some time. Bethany who? She'd not even told us her full name yet.

I didn't want to be suspicious, but it might be worth looking up her name on the internet in case she was a wanted person. As far as her parents were concerned, she was an _un_ wanted person, although we still only knew what Bethany had chosen to tell us.

I didn't realise having a baby was so expensive. I thought supermarkets were meant to be cheap! It wasn't just the price of the travel cot, mattress and bedding ‒ it was the cost of baby clothes and baby food ‒ and other essential bits and pieces that I didn't really understand. They all added to the cost. But, hey, we were doing a good deed and shouldn't count the cost. I think I've heard an old prayer like it.

Bethany seemed to be selecting things carefully, always going for the lower price option. I admired her for that. I'd been afraid she'd be a bit like a child in a toyshop, wanting everything.

Bethany put her arm round me as we queued up at the till, our trolley laden with items, although it was the folding travel cot that took up most of the space. "I don't know how to thank you, Abi."

"It's not a problem, Bethany," I said.

"You're not going to turn me out of the house tomorrow, are you?" Bethany asked quietly.

The elderly couple in front of us at the checkout turned quickly and looked at me. I've no idea if they were seeing me as a heartless young woman, or were merely nosy. Just as long as they saw me as young. I'm sure I would have been nosy in the circumstances.

I felt a lump in my throat. It didn't come from being virtuous, but from seeing the situation from the point of view of a desperate teenager with a small baby and no home. I could understand Bethany's parents being hurt, shocked, devastated ‒ but they just _threw her out_?

"Come on," I croaked, "start loading the shopping."

When we got back, I was glad we lived in a detached house. Little Freddie had been impossible to pacify in the absence of his mummy. I'm sure Alice had been doing her best, but it made me wonder if looking after someone's screaming baby could be the ultimate contraceptive. Maybe it's different if the baby is your own. I hope so, anyway.

Bethany wanted to turn in early. With Bethany safely tucked up under a spare duvet in my old single bed in what had been my old bedroom, and Freddie snugly tucked up in the travel cot on the floor, we left them in peace to catch up on some much needed sleep.

In the kitchen we were soon into a serious discussion on what we should do next. Danny kicked off. "We need to find out more about Bethany," he said. "We don't want to be harbouring a criminal, even if we're doing it unwittingly."

Unwittingly. That sounded like a great legal word. "You said she might be an angel," I reminded Danny. "I think she's just someone caught up in a complete mess. There's no way she can go back to her parents."

Alice nodded. "I believe her story. You're right, Abi, she mustn't go back. At least, not yet. This is your house ‒ and yours now of course, Danny ‒ so in it's up to both of you."

"And up to both of _you_ ," I said. "You've heard the racket little Freddie can make. It's a strange sort of cry. No wonder Julie Watkins thought it was a banshee wailing. I've never heard anything like it. And he's unbelievably loud with it. How long could anyone put up with that noise? Come to that, how long can _we_ put up with it, Danny?"

Danny looked surprised. "Are you thinking of making it permanent, Abi?"

Before I could answer, Alice said, "Rupert, remember how we told Pastor David we were going to open our house for church groups, and possibly for a refugee?"

Rupert smiled. "Yes, and the offer is still on. But our house may not be ready for ages. It's okay with me if Bethany stays here, but it's not our decision, Abi."

A wailing sound came from the floor above. Apparently little Freddie wasn't as sleepy as he had appeared. Yet more proof that I knew nothing about babies and small children. But it would be easier for Melanie to have an eight-year-old child in the house. I'd only seen Liam a couple of times, but surely he wouldn't be wailing in the night. Of course, there might still be problems. But different problems.

Freddie wailed for the next half-hour, and he had my full sympathy. Fatherless and homeless, what sort of future did he have?

"They stay," I said emphatically. "They stay until they can find a permanent place to live."

Danny agreed. "Yes, angel or not, let's do it."

I really did love Danny. We'd not been married for much more than two weeks, and I was seeing more and more of his caring side. I looked down at my left hand to see the diamond engagement ring we had bought together in town.

There was no ring. Just the gold wedding band.

I jumped up. "Won't be a moment."

I don't want soap clogging up the diamond. So before I wash my hands in the bathroom, or take a shower, I always place the ring on the little shelf above the washbasin where we keep our toothbrushes and toothpaste. I couldn't believe I'd not put it back on after my deep cleansing scrub.

The bathroom was still steamy after the bathing session with Bethany and little Freddie, and the mirror was misted up. I reached for the ring.

All I could see were our toothbrushes and toothpaste. I pushed everything to one side, and then back again. Still no ring.

I looked on the floor. I looked all around the bathroom, but without success.

I charged downstairs and flung open the door to the sitting room. "Bethany definitely _isn't_ an angel. _She's stolen my engagement ring!_ "

I stood in the doorway, furious. How had we let that girl trick us into giving her accommodation? And to think how much money I'd spent in the supermarket getting her all those things. Okay, what Danny and I spent in the supermarket, because we have a joint account. "Thank you, God, for treating us like this!"

I was met with a sea of blank faces. "It's my engagement ring. I took it off to wash my hands after going to your house, Alice. That thieving girl has _stolen_ it!"

Without a word, Alice stood up and left the room. She was soon back, holding the ring between her fingers. "Is this what you're looking for, Abi?"

"I ... I ... where did you find it?"

"In the kitchen, where you left it by the sink. I wondered why you'd left it there. I should have said something earlier."

That's when I remembered taking it off to give my hands an initial wash before getting food out of the fridge, before venturing upstairs to give my hands the full treatment. I looked up at the ceiling. My room where Bethany and Freddie were asleep was directly above the kitchen.

To think I'd nearly burst into Bethany's bedroom and accused her, and woken Freddie.

"Bethany, Bethany, I'm _so_ sorry. I feel _so_ ashamed."

Danny shook his head. He looked annoyed with me, but not for the reason I expected. "Abi, that ring cost a lot of money. Please look after it. It means a lot to me."

I burst into tears. "It's not just the ring. It's accusing Bethany of theft that really hurts. Oh, I promise I'll look after the ring more carefully in future, Danny. I really will."

As I said it, the doorbell rang and someone started hammering on our front door. Whoever it was sounded impatient and angry.

The hammering was all we needed. Little Freddie started wailing, so it would be no use denying we had Bethany if it turned out to be her loving, caring parents saying it was all a misunderstanding. No, loving caring parents don't make _that_ sort of racket.

Danny and Rupert went to the door, and I ran upstairs with Alice to try to keep whoever it was away from Bethany and the baby.

I heard voices, both male and female, and Alice immediately put her hands to her head.

"Oh no, not them. Please, not them."

Since Alice had no idea who Bethany's parents were, I immediately made the correct deduction that her siblings were at the door.

Chapter 12

"It's late," I could hear Danny say firmly. "Come back tomorrow evening and we'll discuss it."

Bethany came out onto the landing to see what was happening, holding wailing Freddie in her arms.

"It's all right, Bethany. It's people to see Alice. I'm sorry you got disturbed. They won't be here long."

Bethany nodded and went back into the bedroom. I wondered if little Freddie was ill, but I think babies do cry a lot. They don't tell you that in marriage preparation courses. The one Pastor David ran at the church had only been over four evenings, but it had certainly been useful. I was going to be the perfect young bride. Of course I was.

"You go down, Abi," Alice whispered, standing well back from the stairs. "I don't want to meet them tonight."

With Danny and Rupert already downstairs for protection, I went slowly down the staircase to meet Alice's siblings.

It seemed they were refusing to leave, in spite of Danny's firm instructions to come back the next day. They didn't seem at all awed by Danny's legal qualifications. It might have been better if he'd been wearing his Italian cut slate blue suit, but of course he doesn't wear it at home. It's too expensive to risk marking it with domestic duties.

"We need a table," Michael said. "This won't take long."

"There's one in here," I heard Richard say. I presumed he was talking about the dining room table.

I watched them go uninvited into the dining room. Putting on a bold face I joined them.

Our dining table is quite small, and Richard, the oldest of Alice's siblings, had already put several sheets of paper out on it.

"Where's Alice? We need her." That was Michael, the more belligerent of the two brothers.

"She's upstairs," I said. "Why do you need her?"

"To look at this of course, stupid," the woman said. That was Esther, Alice's unpleasant sister. Such a wonderful family.

Danny started to pick up the papers. "It's time you left. I haven't invited you in. You came in by yourselves. You're trespassing."

"Just stop being a poncy solicitor for a moment, and listen," Esther said.

"Don't you talk to my husband like that," I snapped. "I'm going to call the police if you don't leave immediately."

"Yeah, like you really will," Esther said. "Where's my sister?"

"I'm here," Alice said from the doorway. "What's all the fuss about?"

I think Alice's siblings took this as an invitation to stay. "You've already seen a copy of the magazine article showing the tiara and stuff," Richard said.

Alice nodded. "I have, and I've already told you it's news to me. I only vaguely knew Uncle Isaac's grandmother was Russian."

"I suppose you're going to tell us you've no idea where the jewellery is," Esther said. "You're a deceitful little bitch, Alice. We need that money. So where is it?"

" _I ... don't_ ... _know_ where it is," Alice said in a loud, firm voice. She sounded remarkably confident in the face of older sibling unpleasantness. "If I find it, we're going to share the money four ways. I _might_ even give you my share, but you need to leave this house immediately. You're not welcome here."

At that moment baby Freddie started wailing again. Esther looked up at the ceiling. "You kept that a pretty close secret, Alice."

Alice shook her head and laughed. It wasn't quite a hysterical laugh, but I could see Alice had had enough for one night. "The baby belongs to a guest," she said. "Now, please _go_."

Richard said they were staying, and the other two agreed with him. It looked as though Danny was relenting. "Let's see what those papers are about," he said.

I was with Alice, Danny and Rupert on one side of the small table. The siblings were on the other side. Richard pushed the original society magazine across to us.

Seeing Isaac Newton's grandmother in the magazine rather than on a poor photocopy, I could appreciate how glamorous she looked. The diamonds and rubies in the tiara sparkled, and although she had her head turned slightly, the visible earring and the necklace were clearly a match for the tiara. Or a diadem ‒ if it was by Fabergé!

Danny nodded. "All right, we've already seen that. It's no reason to come bursting in here unannounced."

"There's this," Richard said, showing us a torn sheet of paper with handwriting on it. "You'd better read it before you say anything more."

The handwriting wasn't all that clear but I could read it slowly. I guessed the others were doing the same.

I realised it was a page torn from a large desk diary. It was a rather rambling account, presumably by Isaac Newton, of the problems his mother's death had left him with. He complained that there was now no one to care for him. Sad, but what was so important about this page?

Alice suddenly stabbed her finger at the bottom of the page. "The jewels!"

I leaned forward to read. "I don't want to sell Mother's precious jewels, so Kathrene Watt is guarding them safely under her, where I can easily retrieve them if necessary."

"Who's this Kathrene Watt? I've never heard of her." Alice said, quickly turning the page. It was for the previous day. Perhaps there was something more on the page that followed, not the page before.

Alice looked round at Richard, who seemed to be in charge of the paperwork. "Okay, so where's the next page?"

"Perhaps _you've_ got it," Richard said. "We found this page tucked inside our society magazine. Anyway, the next page will have a new date, so the entry is unlikely to continue. What it says here is probably all there is. Did Uncle Isaac ever mention a woman called Kathrene Watt to you?"

I found it interesting that it was "our" magazine, not Esther's, and the whole family was laying claim to the jewels. I had this stupid vision of Kathrene Watt being Isaac Newton's pet hen, sitting on the jewels in the old summerhouse to keep them warm! Stop it, Abi.

Alice shook her head. "I've absolutely no idea who she is – or was."

"Assuming you're telling the truth, Alice ‒ and I find that unlikely ‒ where are the jewels? Who's Kathrene Watt? You have to tell us."

I turned to Alice. "Did your uncle have a woman friend?"

Richard gave a bitter laugh. "There was only one woman in his life. Uncle Isaac relied on his mother to do everything for him. That's why he couldn't cope when she died."

"You could search for Kathrene Watt's name in the town records," I said. "There's sure to be a record of her somewhere. Your uncle wouldn't have let the jewels far out of sight."

Alice was about to congratulate me on my intelligence ‒ at least, I think she was ‒ when Danny clapped his hands as though to clear the court. "It's time you all left. Come back tomorrow evening and we'll talk about this further. I'm sure Alice has no idea what your uncle means in this old diary, but whatever it's about, it's going to keep for a few more hours. Goodnight."

I think Danny will make a great judge if he chooses to rise to that dizzy height. There's something about his voice that carries authority, and demands immediate obedience. From other people, anyway.

The three mumbled something I couldn't catch, which was probably just as well, and shuffled out of the room, still mumbling as they went. When Danny had shut the front door behind them, he slipped the catch and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I looked at the clock. It was still early, but definitely time for an early night with Danny. The problem was, we were now wired up. Me especially, with the scare over the engagement ring. Sorry, Bethany. So sorry.

Richard had left a photocopy of the diary page for us to peruse. He was keeping the original. I guess I would have done the same in the circumstances.

Alice turned to me. "Are you sure you've never heard of anyone called Kathrene Watt? You've lived here all your life, Abi."

"Never heard of her. We can ask around in the road. Mrs Bartholomew is fairly ancient. I think she was living here when I was born."

Alice sighed. "What happens if we can't track her down?"

I wasn't giving up. "Under her. I'm assuming your uncle was writing about the tiara and stuff. So Kathrene Watt is guarding the jewels under her somewhere ‒ or somehow." Yes, that was stating the obvious. Perhaps I really did need an early night.

"Well, we know it's not under the floorboards. How about under some water?" Alice said. "Do you think there's a well in the garden named after Kathrene Watt? They used to give old wells the names of local saints. She might have been famous in the town when she was alive, helping old people get water if they couldn't do it themselves. I don't remember Uncle Isaac mentioning a well, but it would make a great hiding place. How old are these houses, Abi?"

"The first cotton mill was opened in the late seventeen hundreds. It was powered by a waterwheel. A much larger one was built with the advent of steam power. I think these houses were built in the early 1800s why?"

Alice nodded. "That's what I thought. Mains drainage and mains water wouldn't have come here until the end of the Victorian era. Maybe even later. Long after these houses were built."

"You're right about a well. My guess is there was a communal hand pump over a deep well somewhere around here. Perhaps in what is now the woodland," I suggested. "I've seen village pumps in old photographs."

"So if we find a well in our back garden," Alice said slowly and thoughtfully, "Uncle Isaac might have dropped the tiara and stuff down there. A manager of the cotton mill wouldn't have queued up with the workers in the town to get his bucket of water."

I shook my head. "You don't think the middle classes fought the crowds to get their own water, do you, Alice? They had domestic staff to do it. That's probably what your basement was for. You know, living accommodation." I'd seen old photographs of things like that, too.

"It's too late to go now, but it would be worth looking in the garden for the remains of a well." Alice looked at Rupert. "Let's get up early and do it before we go to work." She sounded excited.

Rupert shook his head. "I have to be in work at eight thirty. There's hardly going to be time. It will keep until I get back." He thought for a moment. "Okay, so that accounts for how everyone around here got their water. You said they didn't have mains drainage. So what happened to the ... you know?"

Rupert's reticence to state the obvious reminded me of young Pete talking about matters relating to sex.

Danny nodded. "People in this country didn't have flushing toilets back in those days," he said confidently, as though he was an expert on domestic sewage disposal. "Everyone had a small outhouse at the bottom of the garden called a privy, with a hole in the ground or a bucket underneath to catch everything. Usually a bucket."

Rupert seemed fascinated by the news. "Which they emptied ... where?"

"Down the well," I said, stifling a pretend yawn. "I'm tired. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm off to bed. And that includes you, Danny."

Chapter 13

I heard little Freddie wailing a couple of times in the night, and I felt sorry for Bethany. But I snuggled up to Danny and felt incredibly safe. Married life was great. Babies? Perhaps not just yet.

The digital clock said it was just after three. I felt wide awake but didn't have the heart to wake my husband. We all had to be at work in the morning, and Danny probably needed the sharpest brain out of all of us.

I started thinking about the well for the drinking water. Assuming the mill manager's domestic staff didn't want to queue up with the villagers, there would have been a private well which would have provided water for drinking and washing. I wondered if the area of woodland had once been part of the gardens for Alice's house. There's a pond, so it might be worth looking around there for signs of an old well, although I don't think they woodland had been private property for many years, if ever. So who would be crazy enough to hide something valuable on public land?

Then it occurred to me that old Isaac Newton, in writing that page in the diary, had mentioned being able to get his mother's jewels easily. How could anyone retrieve something easily from the bottom of a well shaft? I suppose they could, with a long ladder, but I felt we were off the track with that idea. And if he'd dropped the jewels into a cesspit, Richard was welcome to go scuba diving for them. Or would it all be a solid mass of poop by this time? I desperately needed to get back to sleep.

Were the words at the bottom of the page one of Isaac Newton's cryptic clues? Years ago he'd set puzzles for two national newspapers and several magazines. Apparently he'd been famous for his cryptic crosswords.

I don't want to sell Mother's precious jewels, so Kathrene Watt is guarding them safely under her, where I can easily retrieve them if necessary.

I could recall the message word for word. I felt so wide-awake that I started to put the first letters of each word together in my mind, counting them out on my fingers. Clearly IDWTSMPJ from "I don't want to sell Mother's precious jewels," didn't spell anything, nor did KWISHTSO from the Katherine Watts wording. Anyway, cryptic clues in crosswords don't involve letter substitution. Kathrene Watt had to be a real person. If we could find her we might be able to make some progress. I could phone my parents in the morning. They might know something about her.

Danny stirred, and I put my arms round him, careful not to wake him. I didn't want him being sleepy at work. I'm in love, and I can be really thoughtful at times.

But I was still wide awake, thinking now about Bethany and Freddie, and their future. Perhaps Bethany's parents had now repented that they'd thrown her out. Really repented. Pastor David said repenting meant not only being sorry, but turning round and going the other way. If Bethany was telling the truth about how strict her father was, and that her aunt was even worse, it didn't seem likely to happen any time soon.

I wondered if Bethany had really given up with God. If her parents were religious bigots, if that's the right word, then they probably did some sort of praying. I thought of the Pharisees Jesus saw praying in the temple, thanking God they weren't sinners like other people. It seemed to me Bethany had decided to go her own way, or perhaps had been driven to it by a holier-than-thou father. But there was always hope.

I'd make sure Bethany got an invitation to church next Sunday. We have a crèche for babies, as well as groups for children at the ten o'clock service, and Alice or I could take Freddie there. He would know us better by then, and wouldn't perform his regular wailing act. Hopefully.

Eventually the morning came. We planned to use the bathroom in order of precedence, according to the time each of us had to start work. Rupert went first, then Danny, me, and finally Alice. Alice said she didn't need to leave until after nine. Lucky her, although I do enjoy my work at Button Up. I was also impatient to get an update from Melanie about her romantic situation with Steve, in case something significant had happened over the weekend.

"One of us has to go and tell Harry the builder what's happened to his girlfriend," I said at breakfast. Rupert had already left for work at the local garage. "You'd better do it, Alice."

Alice made a bit of a face. "I don't want to make trouble for Brian Warmley's team. I'm sure Harry is a good worker. What happens if Brian gives him the sack for letting Bethany in at night?"

"If I were you, I'd make sure Brian doesn't find out," Danny advised. "But if he does, it's your house, so you can assure him that what Harry did was with the best of intentions, and no harm has been done ‒ so you're happy about it. Okay?"

That seemed good to me, and Alice took a deep breath and said she'd do her best. Time was getting on, but I told Alice if we were quick I'd go with her to help smooth the way should there be any trouble.

Brian Warmley was already at the house when we got there. "We're starting on the interior today," he said, pointing up at the house.

I noticed a young guy in paint-stained coveralls standing to one side, and I hoped it was Harry. While Alice and Brian talked about the house, I went up to him.

"Are you Harry?"

He nodded. "Are you a friend of Alice?"

It was my turn to nod. "Can we go somewhere more private?"

Harry looked uneasy. I guessed he wasn't afraid I was about to make a pass at him, but he obviously wondered why we needed to talk in private.

He nodded towards the builder's van which had no one in it. "Go on."

"I think you know a young lady called Bethany," I said, as we stood beside it.

I couldn't tell if it was interest or panic in Harry's eyes. "I might do."

Whenever anyone says, "I might do," or "I might be," it means they do, or they are. "It's okay, Harry, we know you've been helping her, and you're not in any sort of trouble."

"She's gone."

Was Harry a lovesick puppy? He certainly sounded like one. "It's okay, Harry, she's at my house with baby Freddie. They're both safe."

Harry turned and noticed Brian looking at us. "I want to see her," he muttered. "I have to go back to work now."

What could I say? "You don't want _anything_ to do with a girl like that, Harry. She doesn't even know who the father is. She's a trollop. A good for nothing girl. Absolute trash."

I can honestly say those weren't my thoughts. And I don't believe for one moment that they were God's thoughts, either. He saw Bethany as a lost sheep that He was setting out to find and bring to safety.

I'm just wondering if that's the sort of thing Bethany's father would say to any young man who showed an interest in his daughter. Or perhaps he would have been glad to get rid of the embarrassing situation, hoping he would never, ever see his daughter and his little grandson again.

I went across to where Alice was talking to Brian. She was telling him that under no circumstances was he to let her brothers or her sister into the house. She explained they also knew about the possibility of something valuable hidden, and she didn't want them getting in and wrecking the place.

Brian said he didn't know what they looked like, and the only visitor he'd seen was on Friday. A man from a heating company called to give Alice a quote.

Alice shook her head. "Nothing to do with me, Brian. You're doing all the work here."

Brian shrugged. "Probably some pushy salesman hoping for a bit of commission."

Alice's warning given and hopefully received, she took me to one side. "What did Harry say?"

I shrugged. "He wants to see Bethany again."

"That's good," Alice said. "I expect he's concerned about her."

I grinned. "I think he's a bit sweet on her, to use an old-fashioned expression of my mother's."

Alice returned my grin. "Sounds good to me, as long as he knows all the details."

I certainly wasn't going to get involved in setting up a matrimonial agency. I had my hands full with Melanie and Steve. Life could be such a mess for some people, and hopefully wonderful for those of us who manage to pick our way through the minefield of romance with a modicum of success.

Talking of romance, Melanie was full of it when I eventually got to Button Up. "I think we're definitely getting somewhere, Abi," Melanie said, making sure we were well out of earshot of Pete. "Steve's now got his eye on another small apartment. He took me to look round it yesterday. We can afford the rent between us, but there's a potential problem."

Melanie moved away to clear the coffee cups and plates from a nearby table. I guessed she was doing it deliberately, just to wind me up.

I chased after her. "What's the potential problem? Don't keep me hanging on, girl. We've got enough problems back at my place. Tell me yours first."

"It's a lovely situation. Quiet, space to park my old Fiat, but they're not keen on us having children."

I guessed Melanie was referring to Liam, not that she was thinking of having children of her own. But why not? She was, what, only forty-two? I smiled to myself as I imagined the look on young Pete's face if Melanie turned up heavily pregnant one day!

Then I wondered if the bump would even show. Melanie is short and wide, carrying a fair bit of weight. We all love her. I think the male customers think of her as cuddly, although I doubt they've ever put it to the test. Melanie would certainly let them know in no uncertain manner that their attention was unwelcome, although she had responded to some moves by the Italian businessman just before my wedding.

"I thought you weren't too keen on looking after young Liam," I said.

Melanie smiled, although it seemed to be a rather wry smile. "I'm getting to like the kid," she said. "I've never really spent time with him before. He's quite cute."

"Cute now, but wait until he's a teenager covered in spots, playing loud music, crashing around, and leaving a mess everywhere."

Of course I didn't say that, although the thought did occur to me. "Bring him in here, Mel. I'd like to get to know him. He might be company for the baby."

Melanie looked surprised.

I tried to keep a straight face. "The baby is four months old. I definitely wasn't pregnant at the wedding. The baby isn't mine."

Melanie laughed. "The way you two were behaving at the wedding, I guess it won't be long."

Whatever was she talking about? Oh yes, well, she shouldn't have been nosing around at the back of the church hall. And it was only the briefest of romantic encounters. "Melanie, I behaved with the utmost decorum the whole time."

Melanie gave a snort. "Decorum? You couldn't even spell it. Anyway, I'm expecting to hear the patter of tiny feet soon. Look at you, girl, you've got childbearing hips. Go for it."

I know my hips are slightly on the broad side, just bone, but there was no need for Melanie to point it out – for at least the tenth time. More like the hundredth. "The baby is called Freddie. He and his mum Bethany are spending time with me and Danny at our house. You'll be able to meet them. They'll be here within the hour."

I was about to explain the whole sorry saga of Bethany and Freddie, when several customers came in. So, much to Melanie's obvious annoyance, we were unable to share any more news.

Pete would be in shortly. Maybe it was best to wait until he was here as well, so I didn't have to explain the problem ‒ and _hopefully_ sell the solution I had in mind ‒ to each of them separately.

Chapter 14

Half an hour later, when I briefed Melanie and Pete on the Bethany and Freddie saga, they stayed completely quiet. I wasn't sure if they were dumbstruck to think how kind-hearted we were to help them, or dumbstruck by the sheer stupidity of risking strangers staying in my house.

Eventually Pete nodded. "Is she good-looking?"

Okay, so that's where his mind was going. "Don't even think of it, Pete. Besides, you've got Hayley. And don't, repeat don't, think about having a baby of your own yet." I brightened up. "Maybe you'll understand the problems once you've seen Bethany. She's been made homeless."

Pete nodded. "I don't think Hayley's mum would throw her out of the house if she got pregnant," he said, sounding serious. He frowned for a moment. "Best not to risk it, eh?" And he grinned.

"Best not to even _think_ about it," Melanie said, flicking him with the tea towel she was holding.

At that moment the door to Button Up opened, and we could see a baby buggy being pushed in.

"Is that her?" Melanie said, nudging me hard.

"Welcome to Button Up, Bethany," I said loudly. "Come in and sit down. Did you find us easily?"

Bethany nodded and handed me my house keys. "I've locked up properly. Alice had already left for work."

I put the keys in my bag. I was putting a lot of trust in the young mum. With the house empty, she might have cleared out our valuable stuff and done a runner.

She looked a bit of a sight, wearing clothes I no longer needed, and I wondered if I'd actually ever looked like that. Someone should have told me, and I could have dropped them off at the charity shop straight away.

In hindsight it was a good thing I hadn't, but I got the feeling she wanted her old clothes back, because they fitted her better. I'm five foot seven, and Bethany looked a couple of inches shorter. Or perhaps she felt more comfortable in the dowdy colours in which we'd found her ‒ colours that her Aunt Erica had insisted she wore, and which had now become part of her persona. After all, she had asked me when they would be washed and dry.

Pete pushed his way forward and insisted on serving Bethany. I had to hope he was being polite, and didn't have designs on the homeless girl already. Perhaps he was feeling sorry for her. After all, they were about the same age.

Melanie looked at me and rolled her eyes, and I just shrugged. No doubt as soon as Hayley turned up later in the afternoon, Pete would come to his senses. And if he didn't, I felt confident Hayley would quickly knock some sense into him.

Hayley was eighteen and in full-time college. Originally Pete had asked if she could help us out, mainly because he wanted to be with her as much as possible. The arrangement worked well, and although Pete is on our full-time payroll, Hayley finds the part-time work financially helpful ‒ but Melanie and I both made it clear that she will any get paid when she was needed. Needed by Button Up that is, not just needed by Pete..

It was just before twelve when Bethany said she would be moving on. Naturally I asked her where she was moving on to, because as I had just explained to Melanie and Pete, Button Up was to be Bethany's base in the daytime. I'd not yet given her a key to my house to keep, and didn't intend to give her one until we knew each other better.

Bethany stood there, looking a bit embarrassed. "Abi, it's good of you to let me borrow your clothes, but I need a few more things. When my parents threw me out I didn't have time to pack enough underwear for starters, and yours are ... on the large size? And these jeans keep trying to fall down. I know you mean well, but...."

I understood why Bethany found my underwear on the large side. I'm slim, but as Melanie frequently points out, my hips are quite broad. But to prevent any misunderstanding, no way is my underwear large enough to power a competitor to victory in the Transatlantic Yacht Race.

I looked down at the way Bethany had rolled my old jeans up at the ankles. "I know exactly what you mean, Bethany. Don't worry, I'm taking you to get a few things this afternoon."

"Abi, please don't let me be a burden. And I don't want anything bright to wear. I think bright colours on me would be wrong. I'm comfortable with the sort of clothes I've already got. Aunt Erica chose them for me." Bethany looked around Button Up, which was now getting busy as it usually did as the morning went on. "I don't want to be in the way here. Is there somewhere I can change little Freddie? I've brought the disposable nappies."

I showed her to the unisex toilet. "There's a bin in there for things like that. Put it in one of the bags first, so it doesn't pong too much. Pete will dispose of everything later."

In truth, Pete refused point blank to even touch what he called the ladies' bin, so I would probably be the one to empty it. Training for later. One can never start too soon. I also explained to Bethany that she could use our store room for dressing the baby.

Bethany and Freddie had not been gone long when Danny called in as usual for his lunch. When he was safely sitting down at the reserved table in the corner, I mentioned Bethany's clothes. Of course, being a man, he'd not seen anything amiss with the clothing I'd given Bethany.

Rather than give Danny a lesson in teenage fashion, I casually mentioned I was taking Bethany to get a few clothes after lunch. It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact. And to be fair to my new husband he gave a sort of grin, although it could easily be confused with a grimace.

Then he thought for a moment, and gave a definite grin. "Well done, Abi."

That made me feel virtuous, which was the feeling I was trying to avoid. Perhaps Bethany really was an angel unawares, and Freddie was a little cherub. Well, he definitely was a little cherub ‒ when he wasn't wailing. He kept smiling at me. And I wanted to think it wasn't wind.

Bethany returned after lunch, when things were quiet and our customers were weary shoppers. So I took the opportunity to step out with her to buy some clothes. Hayley had turned up by this time, and she was fascinated by little Freddie. She offered to look after him while we were gone, but Melanie made it clear to Hayley she was there to work, not to babysit.

Eventually Melanie relented, after much pleading by Hayley and Pete, and I took the opportunity to give Bethany a few minutes' peace alone with me at the shops.

I have to say Bethany was a committed mum. She'd given her number to Melanie, Pete and Hayley, and told them to ring the moment there was a problem with Freddie. She kept looking at her phone in case she'd missed a call, or in case the phone had somehow changed itself to silent.

Bethany explained that she still had a little money left in her bank account, but I said no way was she going to spend it. She had to keep it for emergencies, and this was definitely not one of those emergencies. I was paying for everything.

It occurred to me that the police could trace people's whereabouts by seeing where a bank card was used. But would Bethany's father be able to get this confidential information from her bank?

I warned Bethany of the possibility, and said we would advance her the money that was in her account in cash, and she could pay us back later when her situation was secure.

It was only when I insisted, that Bethany bought some clothes for little Freddie. Just as she had in the supermarket, Bethany only chose the basics for herself. Basic underwear, basic jeans and tops ‒ nothing that a teenager would want to be seen out in. Aunt Erica had a lot to answer for!

Autumn was coming, and the baby would soon need warmer clothes, even though we had central heating at home. I wondered what Alice was doing for heating in her house. Perhaps the builders were used to working in chilly conditions, but did paint dry if it was really cold indoors? Well, I had every confidence in Brian Warmley, so I guessed that was sorted, and Alice didn't need quotes from ambitious central heating salespeople. Anyway, we had enough problems at my home with the two newcomers, without me trying to sort out Creepy Castle. Sorry, Alice ‒ your house.

Our shopping was a hurried affair, which must be a first for two women looking for clothes. However, Bethany was anxious to get back to see Freddie. Great. Yet another sign that the mothering instinct was strong in Bethany. I had every confidence little Freddie would be loved and well cared for. It's just that I wasn't sure where this caring would take place. It wasn't fair on Bethany to be crammed into my house for the foreseeable future.

It would also be unreasonable to expect Alice and Rupert, and even Danny, to put up with disturbed nights. Not that Freddie was to blame for wailing loudly at all hours. As far as I know, this is what babies do. Probably what I did, too. Maybe a lot.

Danny phoned me from work just as we were going in through the door of Button Up, leaving Bethany to hurry to the store room to make sure the precious infant was safe.

Danny had made an appointment for Bethany with Social Services next week. He had already made enquiries and discovered that because Bethany was eighteen, she was legally responsible for the baby and entitled to several single parent benefits, including suitable accommodation.

Danny hoped I'd be able to go with her to give some support. I thanked Danny for his care, and went in to discover that little Freddie seemed completely at ease in his new surroundings, Bethany was holding him, but I couldn't see any sign that he had been crying. So far so good.

I told Bethany about Danny's arrangement with Social Services. It seemed she knew nothing about the possibility of claiming benefits. Her aunt and father had never mentioned the possibility of claiming them, probably because they considered it shameful to admit to Bethany being a single mother, and she seemed delighted.

Alice clearly had something she wanted to share. "I had this flash of brilliance," she said. "I know all about Kathrene Watt. She's _not_ Kathrene Watt."

I waited.

"And I've rung Brian Warmley."

"And?"

Alice's eyes sparkled. "I know where the tiara and the other items are. Underneath? Not under the floorboards. We've searched there. We were right in thinking it means under the water. They're not down a well, and certainly not in a cesspit. So where else is there water."

I couldn't think of anywhere, apart from the pond in the woods where we used to find tadpoles and frogs, and the occasional newt. I didn't fancy fishing around in there now I'm an adult. Anyway, it's several thousand feet deep ‒ so one boy at school assured me. Another boy said it went right through to Australia. Now, as an adult, I consider both those possibilities to be extremely unlikely.

"Think of somewhere in my house," Alice said, teasingly.

I shrugged. "You'd better tell."

"Up in the roof," Alice said, with a note of triumph. "You're supposed to be the one who's clever with cryptic crosswords, Abi. I'm seriously doubting your ability. I think Melanie Upton is right. You look up the answers to your puzzles on the internet."

"Only the ones I'm stuck with, just to see how it's done," I said defensively. "I never claim I've completed a cryptic crossword where I've had outside help ‒ although I admit I might leave it open on a table at Button Up when it's completed. And that's _not_ cheating. Anyway, enough. What's this clever idea?"

"Kathrene Watt," Alice said, looking smug.

"You've found her?"

Alice shook her head.

"Someone who knows her?"

Alice shook her head again and made a tut tut sound. "Think cryptic clues, Abi. Kathrene Watt isn't a person."

My brain felt numb. Anyway, I find it much easier to solve cryptic clues if I see them written down. Well, that's my excuse.

"It's the water tank, Abi. Kathrene Watt is an anagram for 'the water tank.'"

Was she right? I couldn't work it out in my head. I had to take her word for it. "What water tank?"

"There's a large metal tank up in the roof. I remember seeing it when we first looked round the house. Brian doesn't need it."

"Hasn't he taken it away?"

Alice shook her head. "He says not, because he was on another job when the tilers put the roof back, and it's much too big to get down through the hatch onto the landing. He said it's been empty for years, and isn't doing any harm there."

"In that case the jewellery can't be under the water. Think again."

Alice wasn't to be deterred. "There could have been water in it when Uncle Isaac hid the jewels. Brian says there's still a lot of stuff in the bottom. The tank is going to have to stay where it is."

"That's a relief," I said. "Someone unscrupulous might have found the jewels if they'd removed the tank." I like words like unscrupulous. It sounds better than saying "some thief."

"You and Danny must come with us this evening when we go to look. Brian says there's a ladder on the top landing we can use, as long as we're careful. He said it's our own fault if we break our necks. I think he was joking. We have to take flashlights, as the power is off for the next few days. As soon as the electrician has finished rewiring the house, Brian is going to get some dehumidifiers to dry the place out, but he says we _definitely_ won't be moving in until February, or perhaps even March. We can't complain. He only gave us a really low quote so he had work to keep his team employed when things were slack. He explained he's now picked up a lucrative job interior job in a large warehouse and office, and that will take him most of the winter. It's embarrassing."

"It's not embarrassing," I said. "No problem at all. It will be good to have you and Rupert in my house for Christmas."

"What about me?" a small voice said.

I hadn't realised Bethany was listening. "We'll see what Social Services say about finding a permanent place for you to live, but you _must_ come to stay with us over Christmas. Maybe you'll still be living with us anyway. It will be fine. Honest it will."

### Chapter 15

By the time we got home, fixed our evening meal and watched the news on television, it was just about dark. Something inside me said it was stupid to go treasure hunting in Creepy Castle at night, especially as the electricity was now off.

Alice said I was _definitely_ going with them. How cruel can your new best friend be!

Bethany asked if it was all right if she stayed behind. Quite honestly, I'd not thought about taking her. Memo to self. Get used to young mum and baby in house.

Then I remembered my missing engagement ring. Although Bethany had turned out to be totally innocent, I did wonder about leaving her alone in the house for too long. It's not that it's full of valuables, but I have all sorts of trinkets around the place, and I don't think I'd notice for a long time if a couple of them went missing. I'd just think my mother had put them away somewhere.

Feeling guilty, I made sure I had my wallet and my bank cards, and quietly whispered to the other three to do the same. Even though I had risked leaving Bethany in the house for a couple of hours after Alice went to work today, surely it would be naïve to give a stranger the run of the house.

As we walked towards Alice and Rupert's house, Mrs Bartholomew was coming out of her house to put something in the recycling box in her small front garden. She and Julie Watkins, who lived next door, were fortunate in having a streetlight outside their houses.

Mrs Bartholomew had been my old maths teacher, and although I'd probably been responsible for giving her premature grey hairs, we were getting on well together now. I'd even apologised for my bad behaviour in class, but she was either very forgiving or had an extremely short-term memory. It seemed I hadn't been the problem I thought I'd been.

For a moment I wondered if she knew anyone called Kathrene Watt, but it was so obviously an anagram for "the water tank" ‒ well, obvious to Alice ‒ that there was no point in asking.

"Do you know anyone called Kathrene Watt?" I asked. Well, it just slipped out before I could stop myself. And if there really was such a person, I would be one up on Alice.

Mrs Bartholomew shook her head. "You could ask the Skinners at number eight. They were living there when I moved in."

I thanked her, and Alice gave me a dig in the side.

"How's the house going, Alice?" Mrs Bartholomew asked. "Quite a lot has happened to the outside since you've been away at Lake Garda. I take it you had a good time."

"We certainly did," both Alice and I said in unison.

Mrs Bartholomew winked at me. "Time for a bit of misbehaviour, I expect."

I can only conclude that her memory of me in class had not been totally wiped clean, although certainly the sort of misbehaviour that had gone on at Lake Garda in Italy bore _no_ relationship to my misbehaviour during lessons at school.

"We're going to the house now," I said. "It's a sort of treasure hunt."

"Another one?" she asked, sounding surprised.

The one six months earlier had turned out to be rather famous in the road. Everybody seemed to know about the old man's will.

"Nothing to do with the will," I said quickly. "It's just that we think there's something a bit valuable that no one has found yet."

A _bit_ valuable? Well, maybe two to three million pounds _is_ only a bit valuable in some people's eyes. To me, it would be hard to get my head around such a huge amount sitting in the bank.

Mrs Bartholomew wished us well and disappeared back into the house. Just before she closed the front door, I peeped in. The hallway looked cosy under the Tiffany style lampshade in the hall. All in all, she'd been a good teacher, and I felt glad she and her husband seemed to be living without a care in the world. But what did I know?

Rupert held the bright LED hand lamp he had brought, while Alice undid the two locks. We slipped inside the house and Rupert carefully locked the door behind us.

"Before we leave, we must remember to make sure the back door in the basement is bolted," Alice whispered. "I don't want anyone getting in again at night."

Why was she whispering? It made the house seem extra creepy. Well, two can play at that game.

"Stay as quiet as possible and don't wake Isaac Newton's mother," I warned everyone. "Beware the icy fingers on your back."

Not that anyone took any notice. The floorboards are substantial and they didn't creak as we walked warily across the hallway. I pushed everyone towards the staircase. Even the staircase was silent. "Come on," I whispered, "let's get into the roof and retrieve the Fabergé gems."

Everyone tiptoed up the staircase in an exaggerated fashion ‒ I think they were mocking me ‒ and we discovered Brian had been right. An extendable ladder lay on the landing. It only took a couple of minutes to put it up against the loft hatch. Naturally, I wanted to go up first, but Rupert beat me to it.

Rupert stopped halfway up the ladder. "Sssh."

I could understand why Rupert told us to remain quiet. This was indeed a solemn moment. It felt as if the jewels knew we were coming, and they might hide. A stupid thought, but even stupid thoughts can seem important. So for once, I shut up.

Rupert waited at the top to give Alice a hand up the final couple of treads, and he did the same for me. We waited for Danny, who spurned any offer of help.

Since we'd last looked up here, the builders had laid some chipboard over a large area of the joists, so there was no danger of putting a foot through a bedroom ceiling. Rupert shone his lantern around, and located the galvanised steel tank that had once provided ... what?

"I thought this house never had central heating," I whispered. Yes, the whole place still felt too creepy to talk loudly ‒ especially up here. "We only needed a tank like that when my dad put in central heating."

"Good thinking, Abi," Rupert whispered. "It's a really old tank. Perhaps water was pumped up here from a well to give enough pressure to work the taps downstairs. It would have saved people getting water in buckets every day, but I don't think it's been used for ages."

I noticed he also whispered. The whole ambience of the roof space – if ambience is the right word for a scary feeling – seemed to make it compulsory to whisper.

Alice pushed her way past her husband. "Never mind about pumps and wells," she whispered, "let's see if there's anything in the tank."

The chipboard didn't quite reach as far as the tank, but Alice managed to straddle her way along the bare joists to get to it.

We each made our own way, until we encircled the tank. Two narrow wooden planks lay across the top, covered in what looked like a few thousand years' accumulation of dust and grime. The two planks only covered part of the top, and I wondered how much muck had got inside the tank in the past century or more.

Rupert removed the planks and carefully placed them on the joists by his feet. Clever guy. It meant he had somewhere secure to stand ‒ assuming the planks weren't worm-eaten and rotten.

To my relief, and probably to Rupert's and Alice's, they stayed firm when he stood on them.

Alice had already activated the flashlight on her phone, and before Rupert could use the LED hand lantern, she looked inside and gasped. "It's a skeleton."

Putting her hand to her mouth, she whispered, "I wonder how it got in here."

### Chapter 16

I immediately had visions of the remains of a human body, with flesh peeling off the skull and sightless eyes staring up at me. It was a huge relief to find the skeleton belonged to a small animal. Probably a cat. But it made me jump back in fright, losing my balance and nearly putting my foot through the ceiling.

The tank was completely dry, which meant the builders weren't drinking water from this tank. I tried to remember if I'd also drunk water in the house, and was pretty sure I had. And probably Bethany, too. Thank goodness for mains water. And also for mains drains, although old Isaac Newton didn't always seem to have made much use of the drains. Perhaps a slight exaggeration, but ugh!

Still whispering, Alice said something like, "Poor little thing."

I certainly felt some sympathy for the cat, if that's what it was, as soon as I'd got over my initial fright.

"It must have got up here one day looking for mice or rats," I said, whispering in the way everyone else was.

"And then my uncle forgot to get it down. Is that what you're thinking, Abi?"

I slipped into full detective mode. "Either that, or there's another way up here."

Alice shone her flashlight around the inside of the tank. The dead cat was just one of many things in there. No glittering diamonds, but what looked like a couple of dirty black bricks, some old rags, and the general debris that got into the tank since the dawn of time. I didn't fancy putting my hand in, but if we could find a stick to poke around we might be able to see exactly what was there.

Danny clutched hold of my shoulder, giving me another fright. "Quiet," he whispered. "I can hear someone downstairs."

That was all I needed. It was bad enough coming into Creepy Castle in the dark and finding a skeleton, without hearing spooky voices. I wanted to curl up into a ball and scream. Fortunately, I didn't.

We crept slowly towards the open hatchway, the chipboard creaking slightly under our feet. Saying nothing to each other, Rupert and Alice dropped to their hands and knees and peeped over the open hole onto the landing. All our flashlights were off.

I felt the darkness close in on me like a blanket, and I struggled to control my feelings. There was a sense of something unpleasant in the air. What?

"It's a man calling out," Alice whispered. "Maybe it's Harry, come to see Bethany."

I nudged her on the shoulder, nearly sending her headfirst through the hatchway. "In that case, who's the woman he's talking to?"

"Perhaps Bethany has come here to meet him," she whispered back.

"I've got the keys. That means my house is unlocked. I thought there was something wrong about that girl."

Alice suddenly caught hold of my shoulder in the darkness, making me jump as her nails dug in sharply. "Hush. That's my brother Richard shouting out. What's he doing here?"

"Richard?" I kept my voice low. "And is that your sister shouting now?"

Alice shook her head. At least, I assume she did, but we were in total blackout. "It's not Esther. And it doesn't sound like Bethany. It's an older woman."

The woman's voice rose to a high pitch, rather like a female fox on heat barking in the woods. Something about it made the hairs stand up on my back and arms. Very fine hairs, of course.

Alice grabbed hold of me again, and I almost joined in with the screaming that seemed to be coming up from the basement. "Don't do that, Alice." I turned to Danny. "What's going on?"

"I hope it's not what I think it is," he said quietly. "I'm going down to investigate."

I didn't know what Danny thought it was, but there was no way I was going to stay up in the loft without him.

One by one, we made our way silently down the ladder onto the landing. Another high-pitched crescendo came from far below. It was definitely a woman's voice in the basement, but it was quickly joined by others.

"I can hear Richard calling out something," Alice whispered, as we tiptoed to the top of the stairs. "What's going on?"

A woman's voice floated up from below. "Spirit of the glass, we _command_ you to tell us where the jewels are hidden."

I might be a bit simple and have lived a fairly innocent life, but that didn't stop me realising we were witnessing a séance, and the voice and the occasional high pitched voice came from a medium.

"I don't like it, Danny." Talk about an understatement. I was petrified. No wonder I had sensed something bad in the house. This wasn't a game with my school friends in the garden, playing spooks and vampires. This was pure evil.

"This is ending _now_ ," Danny said firmly. "Wait here."

Wait here? He had to be joking. No way was I leaving Danny's side. We all crept down the stairs to the hallway in total darkness and Danny opened the door to the basement just a couple of inches. Then he cupped his hands to his mouth and with the voice of the old witch she had apparently perfected at school, he called out in a scary way, " _Leave ... this ... house. Leave ... this ... house before it is too late. Too ... late_."

Wow, I thought the high-pitched noise from the medium had been chilling enough, but the screeches from Alice's three siblings beat it hands down.

I could hear pandemonium down below. Voices, raised and panicky. "The door. Where's the door?"

More panicky voices that I couldn't interpret, and then flashes of light came through the gap of the basement door which was still open a crack, casting weird shadows in the hallway. Someone down there had turned on a flashlight, but everyone seemed to be disoriented.

"How did they get in?" Rupert whispered.

"It can't have been Harry leaving the door unbolted," Alice whispered. "He knows Bethany is staying with us. We should have checked it when we first got here."

"I'm going down," Danny said. "Rupert, you'd better come with me."

Before Rupert and Danny could move, I had a better idea. I wasn't a coward, but I didn't want Danny getting hurt. I pulled him away and gently pushed the basement door shut. "Wait until they've definitely gone. Let them think they've called up something evil in the séance. Then they're never going to come here again."

We waited until the panic-stricken voices downstairs had disappeared before we turned on our flashlights. Rupert put his large LED lantern on the floor in the hallway.

"I'm going to get a restraining order preventing your siblings entering your house ever again," Danny said to Alice.

She took a deep breath. "Great. Thanks, Danny. I wonder who the medium was."

My mind was running in overtime. "Do you think she managed to raise something nasty?"

"Not a chance," Danny said, sounding confident. I hoped he really _was_ confident and not just _sounding_ confident. "Although if we hadn't interrupted her, I'm not sure what would have happened."

I have to say I felt _fairly_ sure we'd stopped something unpleasant happening, but just as I was about to comment, I could smell smoke. "Something's on fire," I said, stating the obvious, because everyone else was sniffing and clearly coming to the same conclusion.

We hurried down the basement stairs using our flashlights. Fortunately there was no sign of Alice's siblings or the old witch from the séance. Instead, we saw a large candle lying on its side. It had fallen onto some papers and set them alight. I could picture Alice's siblings and the medium sitting around the candle. But what were the papers doing there?

Fortunately, the whole basement was unfurnished, apart from a stack of concrete blocks Brian the builder must be storing there. They were obviously flameproof. Danny picked up the candle and blew it out, then stamped on the burning papers before the fire could spread. I bent down to pick up one of the remaining fragments.

I felt glass crunch underfoot, and realised I was treading on pieces of the broken tumbler the medium had been using to summon up the so-called spirit of the glass. A square board lay by the wall, marked with letters of the alphabet for the spirit to spell out a message when the glass moved. I knew this was really, really stupidly dangerous, messing with evil spirits. It wasn't entertainment. I'd read of cases where terrifying things happened.

I picked up charred remains of the original diary page Richard had shown us. Did they really think they could summon up Isaac Newton or his mother with some old papers, a candle and a Ouija board? Was it possible? That's something I have no intention of finding out. Ever.

It had been cool upstairs in the main house, but the basement felt decidedly chilly. I could see why Bethany had slept in the cloakroom on the ground floor.

The layout of the rooms looked identical to the ground floor, although the walls seemed slightly thicker to support the upstairs walls. Only a couple of the rooms had doors fitted. It would make a good apartment for a refugee family when the builder finished. Or maybe for Bethany and little Freddie. Surely they were refugees from religious oppression and persecution.

Alice was by the back door, and she called to us to look. "I can't bolt it. Someone's removed the screws in the bolt stays. That's how they got in, but who did it? And when?"

Rupert said he didn't know who or when, but he knew how to make the door secure. The door opened inwards, and he started to pile some of the concrete blocks in front of it.

At that moment someone started hammering on the front door. I turned to Danny, ever my protector. Well, what's the point in having a guy if he can't protect a frail young female like me?

"You'd better stay down here," Danny said.

Like a knight in shining armour he bravely climbed the basement stairs and slowly opened the front door.

Naturally I went with him, half expecting to see a witch wearing a tall black hat, pointing a gnarled finger at Danny and pronouncing a curse on him.

To our surprise Bethany stood there, white faced, with little Freddie in her arms. They were both covered in mud.

"Please help me," she said.

Chapter 17

Bethany looked back anxiously over her shoulder. "I don't think they've followed me."

"Who?" I asked. "What's happened?"

An answer to either question would have been good, but Bethany just stood there shaking.

I turned to Alice. "It's your house. You'd better let them in." Okay, we can all say silly things in times of stress, but in hindsight that _was_ quite sensible. Clearly something serious had happened to Bethany and little Freddie.

"It's my father and Aunt Erica," Bethany said, as Alice went forward and pulled her and the baby into the hallway.

I pushed the front door closed firmly. This sounded serious. "Where?" I asked. "How?"

By this time Alice had led Bethany into the dining room and offered her one of the dining chairs. Bethany collapsed onto it in a heap, still holding Freddie tightly.

"Where?" I repeated. Perhaps it was best to ask one question at a time.

Bethany had obviously fallen in some mud, and must have dropped Freddie at the same time. He was also muddy, but didn't look injured.

"They came to your house, Abi," Bethany said. "They were knocking on the door. I thought it was all of you back, and you'd forgotten to take your keys. So I opened it."

"Now just a minute," I said, shaking my head. "How could your father and aunt possibly have tracked you down to my house?"

Bethany started to cry. "I phoned my father last night but I didn't tell him where I am. I wanted to let him know I still have my phone, and it's charged up now, in case he wanted me in an emergency. My mum isn't very well."

I wondered why Bethany had contacted her father, if he really was that bitter about little Freddie. Did she hope her father would say he was in the wrong, and plead with her to come home so he could put his loving arms around her and beg for forgiveness?

Judging by the mud on Bethany's clothes and the frightened look in her eyes, there had been no loving arms or begging for forgiveness.

"I ... I ... thought he'd come to see if I was all right." She wiped her eyes with a muddy fist, spreading a streak of dirt across her face. "I was wrong."

"But why the mud?"

"My father said he's got the car and he's taking me home. My aunt's with him and she said she's taking Freddie somewhere. I won't be allowed to see my baby again. Not if I want God's forgiveness."

Danny, the junior solicitor, knelt by Bethany's chair. "He can't do anything if you're eighteen, and even when you were younger you might have been able to get protection."

"But of course he wouldn't have told you that," I nearly said. Fortunately I didn't.

"Tell us, Bethany," Danny said, "how old are you really? Take your time. We're here to help you, but you have to tell us the truth."

"I'm eighteen today," Bethany said, giving little Freddie a kiss on his muddy face. She thought for a moment. "In that case my father is one day too late."

I could see Danny's dark blue eyes narrowing under the bright lights from Rupert's lantern. "Can you prove it, Bethany?" he asked gently.

"I can, back at your house," she said. "I haven't brought anything with me. I ran out of your back door and through the little gate at the end of your garden into the woods."

Well, that certainly explained the mud. A little light reaches the woods from the streetlights along the road, but not enough for anyone to find their way through the trees to Alice's house. Clearly, Bethany had fallen over several times, taking Freddie down with her. It was a miracle the baby wasn't injured. Or perhaps he was.

"So where are your father and aunt now?" Danny asked.

Bethany shook her head. I noticed her face was still pale. "I expect they're still back in your house. Or maybe they've gone home." She thought for a moment. "Or maybe they're looking for me in the woods."

In that case, I thought, my house was unlocked. My mind felt in a panic. Clearly Bethany and Freddie were more important than the contents of my home, but the situation needed sorting out quickly.

A loud knocking on the front door made us all jump. It seemed the situation _was_ sorting itself out quickly. That had to be Bethany's father. If her Aunt Erica had knuckles that could hammer on the door as loudly as that, she would have to be a boxer. Of course, that had to be a possibility.

Danny nodded to Rupert. "Take everyone down to the basement and close the door at the top of the stairs. Move those blocks, and if everything goes badly wrong, take Bethany and Freddie out through the back door and hide in the woods."

I couldn't think of anything that could go as badly wrong as all that. Danny was a lawyer. He could threaten to serve all sorts of writs and summonses on Bethany's father. But perhaps it was just as well to be prepared for a quick exit.

Since Danny was now in charge, and when he said take everyone down to the basement and close the door at the top of the stairs, he must have meant all of us. We hurried down to the basement.

I made sure I was the last one down, and stayed at the top of the basement stairs to close the door. Then, overcome with the emotion of it all, I sat down on the top step to recover. The fact that I could hear what was going on in the hallway was an added bonus. I can sometimes do crafty.

Unfortunately, Danny was speaking too quietly for me to catch all he was saying, but that problem didn't apply to Bethany's father and aunt. It seemed they knew the law better than Danny did. The father was trying to convince Danny, with frequent help from Aunt Erica, that he knew exactly what his rights were as Bethany's father.

I wanted to open the door a crack and have a peep at the two intruders. What did the aunt look like? I imagined a thin, shrewish woman with a long nose and tiny spectacles. And Bethany's father? I really had no idea.

Rupert crept up the stairs to where I was sitting before I could open the door for a good look. "Do you think I should go and help Danny out?" he asked, dazzling me with the beam from his LED lantern.

I reached out and pushed the lantern to one side. "Better wait," I whispered. "Danny hasn't told them we're down here. They'll go mad if they know Bethany is the other side of this door."

At that moment little Freddie started to wail. Of course he did. It was bound to happen. Alice rose to the occasion magnificently. She had already removed the concrete blocks, and within five seconds had led Bethany and Freddie out through the back door into the garden. The whole house was silent again.

I guessed they would go into the woods, or perhaps the old summerhouse which had doubled as a garden shed. No, Freddie's wailing would be heard in there. Alice had the flashlight on her phone, so they wouldn't be in any danger of tripping over in the woods and falling headfirst into the pond.

Then I had a bright idea.

"Stay here," I said to Rupert. "Bethany's father and aunt are still up there. I can hear them arguing loudly with Danny. I'm taking Bethany to Julie Watkins. She'll give us protection. Come and collect us as soon as all the fuss has died down and it's safe. Put the blocks back in front of the door as soon as we've gone, and go up and see if Danny needs any help."

I told Rupert he and Danny had to delay Bethany's father and aunt coming after us for as long as possible.

Out in the back garden I could see a light flickering among the trees. I risked calling out for Alice to wait for me. By the time I had picked my way to them, Freddie was silent. So far so good.

"I'm taking you to Julie Watkins. I'm sure she'll look after you for now," I told Bethany. "She's already spoken to you, so she knows who you are. But why on earth did you tell your father where you're staying?"

Even as I was saying it, my mind went into overdrive. Perhaps hyperdrive. How did he know we were at Alice's house now? How did he even know that Alice lived at the other end of my road? There was only one possible explanation.

"Your father's put a tracker on your phone, Bethany. That's how he found you."

We made our way along the edge of the wood until we came to the opening in the railings that led us into the road almost opposite Julie's house.

"Then why hasn't he found her before?" Alice asked. "She's been hiding here for over a week."

Bethany stopped while she hoisted little Freddie up higher in her arms. I offered to take him, but Bethany wouldn't have it. That's a mother's protection for you.

"When I ran away from home the battery in my phone was almost flat. I couldn't charge it until I was at your house yesterday, Abi. What can I do? If my father's tracking me, he'll know I'm hiding in Julie Watkins's house and come there to make trouble. And Aunt Erica can make even more trouble than my father can."

"Switch it off immediately," Alice said. "I think you should take the battery out to be sure you can't be tracked."

At that moment I had an amazingly brilliant idea. Genius, or what! "No, leave it on. Alice, you go with Bethany and Freddie, and explain to Julie what's happening."

"And where are you going, Abi?"

I grinned, but only to myself. It was too dark for the others to appreciate how I was feeling. "I'm going back to your house, Alice. I'm going to let down one of the tyres of Bethany's father's car if it's there. That will stop him following me."

Everyone stared at me. I wasn't sure what they were thinking, and didn't like to ask. My plan was perfect.

"Bethany, give me the passcode for your phone."

Bethany shook her head. "There isn't one. I'm not allowed to set one. My aunt checks my phone every night to see what I've been doing with it during the day."

What sort of family did Bethany come from?

"Anyway, I don't have any friends to contact. I wondered why my father insisted I had the phone and kept it with me day and night. He said it was in case of an emergency." Bethany looked uncertain. "My father said that Mother isn't well, and I need to go home. I don't know what to do."

I didn't say anything. We had now reached the open archway on the path that came out from the woods. It was Bethany's father and aunt, not the bears that were giving me the adrenaline rush at that moment.

I watched Alice ring Julie's doorbell, and as soon as the door was opened I raced up the road, hoping Rupert had managed to delay the departure of the Bigoted Two.

The front door to Alice's house was still closed and I noticed a silver Ford Mondeo parked outside in the road. I'd not seen that car in the road before, and hoped it belonged to Bethany's father. Feeling guilty, but guilty in a good cause, I quickly unscrewed the valve cap on the left front wheel and pressed the valve.

The sudden hiss of air sounded embarrassingly loud in the dark, but no one came out from any of the houses to investigate. I had intended to deflate just one tyre, but while I was at it I decided I might as well do the other front one.

Even if Bethany's father came after me, because I now had Bethany's phone switched on in my pocket, it would take him some time to start off. He would only have one spare wheel, so he'd need to call his breakdown service. By then, I would be at the railway station.

Just in case Bethany's father had some other mode of transport, or that wasn't his car, I switched the phone to power off, not to standby. I would turn it back on later.

I ran past Julie Watkins' house, and noticed the front door was shut. Since Bethany and Freddie and Alice weren't standing in the road, that part of my plan had been successful. How long would it take to get to the station? And when was the next train to anywhere, ideally as far away as possible?

Chapter 18

I decided to leave Bethany's phone switched off for the moment, and phoned for a cab on my own phone. However did people manage in the old days? The cab came quickly and I paid with my card when we reached the station.

There was an immediate problem. You can't get on the platform if you don't have a ticket.

I hurried to the ticket office. "When's the next train?"

The clerk raised his eyebrows. "The next train to where?"

"Any train. In either direction. When's the next train?"

The next train that stopped wasn't due for nearly half an hour, but I managed to feel relaxed. It was going in the opposite direction to Bethany's home town of Dalchester. With Bethany's phone switched off, there was no way her father could track it yet – or to be more precise, track me.

I bought the cheapest ticket I could, to the next stop. But it wasn't cheap, because the next stop was some distance away on the next train. With the cost of the cab and now the ticket, the expenses were mounting up. Anyway, I was confident Danny would say I was doing the right thing.

Time to phone Danny.

He answered immediately. "What's going on, Abi?" He sounded quite angry. "Did you let Mr Studley's tyres down?"

"Who's Mr Studley?"

"Bethany's father."

"Then I did." That came as a relief. I hadn't interfered with an innocent neighbour's car. "Where is he now?"

"He's waiting for the breakdown service. You didn't really think he would give up searching for Bethany, did you? He knows she's in the area. He has phone tracking. That's how he knew where to find her. Tell Bethany to switch her phone off."

I needed to be careful. We'd only been married for a couple of weeks or so, but I knew I was doing the right thing. The genius thing.

"Listen to me, Danny. Bethany and Freddie are with Alice. They've all gone to Julie Watkins. Tell Rupert to go straight there. They'll be safe with Julie for now."

"No they won't," Danny said. "If you're not with them, you won't be able to tell Bethany to turn her phone off. Do you know her number?"

"It's okay, Danny. Hear me out, please."

Poor Danny, left all on his own with those two horrors. But I knew Bethany and Alice needed Rupert more than Danny did. "It's all right, I really do know what I'm doing. Promise I do. Come and pick me up at the railway station in half an hour. You have to trust me."

It seemed Danny _could_ trust me, which I felt was a good sign in our marriage. He promised to be there on time, but of course he wanted to know all the details. I was about to launch into my whole plan, when I heard angry voices on the other end of the phone.

"Got to go, Abi. See you in half an hour. Love you."

I guessed Bethany's father, Mr Studley, and nasty Aunt Erica were back in the house. I wouldn't switch Bethany's phone on just yet, because I definitely didn't want them knowing I was at the station. Not yet, anyway.

It was a long wait for the train. It was getting really chilly as the night went on, and I hoped Rupert, Alice and Bethany were safely with Freddie inside Julie and Paul's warm house. I _really_ hoped they were.

I phoned Alice and checked. They were.

"Don't go back to my house yet, Alice," I said. "I was right about the tracker. Danny says there's one on Bethany's phone. I'm going to make sure they never find her again. Stay where you are, if that's okay with Julie, and wait for me there. How's little Freddie?"

"Well, you know him. The occasional wail, and the occasional smile. He's lovely."

Babies do that to women. I wondered what plans Alice and Rupert had made for a family. Not that you could guarantee anything, but it certainly would be fun trying.

I bought a cup of tea from a machine. It tasted pretty yuck, but it was hot, and I had only just finished drinking it when I heard the train coming. I switched Bethany's phone on. She was right, there was no screen lock.

I stood near the end of the platform, so the whole train would pass me. I needed to select my carriage carefully. The one towards the end looked perfect. I had shown my ticket as I entered the platform, and as soon as the automatic doors were released I boarded the train. I knew it wouldn't wait long, and I had to be quick. I put Bethany's phone behind a pile of passengers' bags and cases in a bay at the end of the carriage.

I only just made it off the train before the doors locked shut. Then I nonchalantly – good word that – strolled off the platform with the other arrivals. I showed my ticket to the inspector at the exit barrier and explained I had decided not to travel after all. He probably thought I was a bit crazy, which is most likely why the explanation seemed to satisfy him.

I saw Danny waiting in his little Kia in the car park when I got outside, and I jumped in and explained my plan to him. One of two things would now happen. Either someone would find the phone and decide to keep it. There was no pass code. Well good luck to Bethany's father as he chased that person around the country. Or more likely it would be found at the terminus, which was over a hundred miles away, and handed in as lost property.

It would sit in the lost property office until the battery went flat in a couple of days. Plenty of time for Bethany's father to track down the city, but maybe not the lost property office. Hopefully, he would decide Bethany was somewhere in that city, and she'd never see him again.

"Don't you think it's a brilliant plan?" I asked Danny as I finished the explanation.

"Yesterday I would have said we shouldn't interfere. Having spoken to Mr Studley and Bethany's aunt, and seen how obsessed they are, you couldn't have done anything better, Abi. Yes, amazingly brilliant."

With that, he put the car into gear, and we went to collect little Freddie and Alice. I glowed with pride, especially as Danny hadn't added "for you," after the compliment. Just joking.

Although we had to go past the Watkins' house, Danny didn't stop. We found the breakdown truck still at Alice's. I guessed it was just about finished, because the Mondeo's tyres looked good under the streetlight. Excellent news.

As long as Bethany's phone could transmit a signal on the train, Mr Studley and the pious aunt would be grinding their teeth with rage, to think that Bethany had managed to escape so quickly.

I loved it.

Chapter 19

Danny drove on past Alice's as though he was just passing along the road. If we turned round and stopped outside Julie Watkins' house, it would completely give things away. There was no doubt about it, Danny and I would make a great secret service team.

Eventually, we noticed Bethany's father drive off. He drove off furiously, so I guessed he'd seen his daughter's phone travelling swiftly through the countryside. If his map showed a railway line, he would think she was on a train, not a road. Whatever, he must know he'd been thwarted.

Danny said he wanted to wait a few more minutes, in case Bethany's father came slinking back to see what we were up to.

I phoned Alice and explained we were only just up the road, but they would have to stay out of sight where they were for the moment. We didn't want them walking back to my house, because Bethany would stand out a mile carrying baby.

"Julie is lovely," Alice said. "She's really taken to little Freddie. They're in the back room now, so they can't hear me. It seems Julie and her husband weren't able to have children. She mentioned they wondered about adoption years ago, but decided not to go through with it. Perhaps she'll adopt Freddie."

I thought she meant it as a joke, and I said, "She'll have to adopt Bethany as well, in that case." Maybe Alice didn't mean it as a joke. Was it possible to adopt someone who was eighteen? Come to think of it, was Bethany really eighteen? She said it was her birthday today. That sounded a bit unlikely.

Danny and I sat in the car for half-an-hour, then drove down my road and back. There was no sign of the Ford Mondeo. I could only hope Mr Studley and the narrow-minded old aunt were speeding after the train, and not coming back here to complain.

I phoned Alice again and explained the situation. She said there was no problem. They were having a party. Party? Surely it wasn't time to celebrate yet. Bethany still had many mountains to climb if she was to shake herself free of her parents and that horrible aunt.

I was so intrigued that I asked Danny to drop me off outside Julie's house, as long as there was no sign of the Ford. He said he would do that, and park his Kia in the road round the back of the woods and join us. This was great secret agent talk. Was this sort of subterfuge something solicitors learnt at University law school? He said he would walk back along the road, rather than risk falling in the woods. I thought secret agents were more daring than that, laughing at danger.

Alice was right. There was a party. Everyone in Julie's house was celebrating Bethany's birthday. Julie had made an emergency wedding cake for our wedding using two supermarket iced cakes. Obviously she hadn't been able to nip out to buy anything now, but she had some birthday candles and holders, and had stuck them in a row along the top of a Swiss roll, after spreading some white icing across it.

Her husband Paul had rolled up some brightly coloured paper and made party crackers. They looked amazingly well made and realistic, although I assumed there was nothing in them, not even bangers. There was a plate with some small sandwiches cut from white bread, and some biscuits.

As I entered the room, everyone started to sing _Happy Birthday_. They must have been waiting for me. Clearly, Bethany had persuaded them it really was her birthday. I couldn't believe she would have tricked them. She seemed far too nice for that.

I was glad to see that both Bethany and the baby had been cleaned up, although there were stains from where the mud had been on their clothes. But altogether quite a good result, considering the mud from the wood was renowned for being extremely hard to remove from my school clothes ‒ just a few years ago.

As birthday teas went, it obviously wasn't much. But it was the thought and the love that counted. I felt my eyes tear up and I had to turn away. I'm a real softy at times like this.

Little Freddie was lying on the sofa with a small blanket covering him. He didn't seem to know the words or the tune for _Happy Birthday_ , but it didn't deter him from joining in with his distinctive wail.

Danny arrived, and joined in the celebrations. He explained that Bethany's father had been trying to track her down for days, while she was still seventeen. He had confirmed she was eighteen today. Danny said he'd explained to Mr Studley that it wouldn't have mattered even if Bethany was sixteen. The courts could intervene and give the mother legal custody of the child.

As soon as things had quietened down, I explained what I had done with Bethany's phone. To my surprise, Bethany looked upset.

"But that's my only phone," she said, nursing little Freddie again. It seemed he'd been missing his mum's comforting arms.

"It's how your father tracked you down," I explained. "I've got a spare phone you can have, and we can get a SIM card for it tomorrow morning."

"I still want it back."

"Bethany, that phone has a tracker on it. Even if we put a new SIM card in there, it's possible the phone could still be tracked. I'm sorry, but it's the only way to stop your father coming here again."

"I don't think we'll ever be safe, Freddie," Bethany said, hugging the baby tightly.

"You will be. That's why we're here. Now, give me your phone number. I want to call your phone."

Bethany frowned. "No one will answer it on the train, and even if they do, what's the point?"

"All I want to do is see if it rings. If it does, then your father's tracking device will be working. For all I know, there might be no signal in the luggage bay."

I dialled the number and waited. It seemed a long wait before I heard the ringing tone. I switched off the call immediately. There was no point in letting someone on the train hear it ring and go to investigate. Ideally, it needed to be found at the far end of the journey when the passengers removed the last bags and cases.

"Bethany love," Julie said, "would you like to go back with Abi, or stay the night here? This house is open to you and your baby." She turned to me. "If that's all right with you, Abi."

"Is it all right if I stay here with you, Julie?" Bethany said shyly. "It's just that my father might come back, and he doesn't know about this house."

That made sense to me, even though I was looking forward to Bethany's company. But without little Freddie disturbing our sleep, it might be all for the best.

So that was quickly agreed. Alice and I went back to my house, accompanied by Danny and Rupert for protection in case it was needed, and returned with Bethany's kit packed in bags, and little Freddie's carrycot. We even remembered the baby food in the kitchen, and the baby milk. Perhaps Alice and I were well on the way to responsible motherhood.

The house seemed ever so quiet that night. Before going upstairs the four of us prayed together for the right outcome for Bethany and Freddie. They certainly needed prayer, that was for sure.

"Danny," I said, as he reached over to turn out the bedside light, "we forgot to go back and look inside the water tank at Alice's house."

### Chapter 20

The next morning we were up bright and early – or in my case, early. Bethany rang using Julie's phone to tell us all was well. I advised her to stay out of sight indoors for the whole day, and I would nip back at lunchtime with any shopping she needed.

I knew Julie and Paul didn't have a car, and I didn't want Julie traipsing out to the shops just to get baby stuff. I said I would bring my spare phone which I'd put on charge last night, and buy a pay-as-you-go SIM card for it in town.

I added that she could, if she were so minded, send a text to her father with the new number to be used only in emergencies. I doubted if Bethany's location could be tracked from a text sent from a different phone. I was concerned that Bethany had said her mother was unwell, although I wouldn't put it past her father to exaggerate the illness as an excuse to entice Bethany home and tell her to come urgently. So maybe not send a text just yet.

Of course, the talk at breakfast turned to our failure to go back and check inside the water tank at Alice and Rupert's house. But, as I pointed out, if the tiara and the other jewels had been in there for fifty or so years, along with the dead cat, they were likely to stay there a bit longer.

Over the next hour we departed to our places of work. Danny promised to look into the possibility of getting a restraining order for Bethany's family, which sounded a good offer.

He was also going to look into the possibility of getting a restraining order to keep Alice's siblings away. He was certainly going to be busy, although fortunately Mr Waters, the senior partner at Branks, Davis & Waters was keen for Danny to do a small amount of pro bono work, so perhaps things would work out okay.

By the time I got to work, I found Melanie bubbling over with enthusiasm. "Guess what, girl."

I was about to suggest she had fixed the day ‒ but supposing that wasn't what was happening? That would be so unkind. But it clearly had to be something to do with Steve.

"Go on, tell."

Melanie's eyes shone. "We fixed the day, and we've found a suitable flat. There, what do you think of that?"

I gave Melanie an enthusiastic hug and a kiss. Pete was standing in the background, and he came forward rather slowly and gave Melanie his own version of an enthusiastic hug, which left something to be desired as regards enthusiasm. He even attempted a very brief kiss in the cheek. But at least he seemed pleased with the news.

"So when's the big day?" I asked. "No you don't, come back here."

Melanie was about to serve a customer, and I quickly told Pete to do it. I felt sure he wouldn't be interested in the fine details of this romance ‒ and if he was, he ought not to be.

"We signed the lease yesterday and paid the deposit. We want to get married asap, ideally before we move in. It doesn't do to wait too long at our age."

I wasn't sure if Melanie meant they would soon be too old to get married. Surely not. I'd heard of people in old folks homes getting married, sometimes needing Zimmer frames to walk up the aisle.

Melanie didn't amplify what she meant, but she said, "I'd like it to be a church wedding. Do you think it could be at your chapel, Abi? When I was there at your wedding I thought it would be a lovely church to get married in."

The idea of Melanie voluntarily going to church was a new one on me, but I certainly wasn't going to deter her. "I'll have a word with Pastor David," I promised. "Is that what Steve wants as well?"

"He says yes. Perhaps we could go to church with you one Sunday. They seemed such a friendly lot there. Not that I want to make it permanent, but maybe just a few times."

I thought of Bethany's father and aunt. What sort of church did they go to? Well, it wasn't for me to judge, so I kept quiet about that. "You're welcome to come at any time, Melanie. You and Steve. How about next Sunday? I'll phone Pastor David this evening, and explain the situation. I'm sure he'd love to see you there on Sunday."

Button Up got busy at that point, and although Pete hovered near us occasionally, he'd not been able to learn enough to pass comment. Or so I thought.

"Is Melanie _really_ having a church wedding," he whispered, pulling me to one side. "Is that legal?"

"Of course it's legal. I got married in church, and my marriage is legal. Whatever do you mean?"

Pete looked a bit embarrassed. "I mean, married in white. You know, for Melanie. Is that legal?"

"Pete," I said sounding stern, "what Melanie wears for her wedding is entirely up to her and Steve. It's no business of ours, and don't you dare say anything to her about it. Just be glad that she and Steve are finally getting married."

"And what about the kid? That's going to raise a few eyebrows in the church." Pete wasn't giving up.

"Pete, remember what I said. It's no business of ours. I'm sure Liam will make an excellent pageboy."

At that point I realised Melanie hadn't said anything about young Liam. Pete walked away suitably subdued, and I took the first opportunity to ask Melanie what was happening to Liam. Had his mother Sharon had a change of heart and decided to keep him?

"Liam will be living with us. It's near the first flat I told you about, down by the river on the edge of town near the hospital, but this one has two bedrooms. They don't mind the boy. We won't be the only family there."

I nodded. "Sounds good. I hope Liam settles in with you both quickly."

"He's a lovely boy," Melanie said, smiling. And it certainly wasn't a put-on smile. "I've got to know him really well. He calls me Melanie, and I'm happy about that. I'm sure we'll get on well together."

Romance was in the air. I just hoped Pete and Hayley weren't going to follow the trend.

Danny came in for his lunch as usual, and said he had already started the ball rolling on restraining orders. I wasn't sure if ball rolling was a legal expression, but I knew what he meant. As usual, he sat at the table I always reserved for him in the corner. And I even had the opportunity to sit with him for a few minutes between serving customers.

Hayley called in mid afternoon after college, and said she'd already heard about the forthcoming wedding from Pete. I looked at Pete and noticed he seemed a bit uncomfortable. But he had no need to be embarrassed. It just surprised me that a nineteen-year-old guy would think to mention it to anyone.

Hayley and Melanie sat at what I always think of as Danny's small table, and seemed to be making plans. With any luck it was for a single wedding ‒ Melanie and Steve's. As I told both Pete and Hayley many times, they need to finish their college courses and get decent jobs before contemplating marriage. Hayley could see the sense of that. I wasn't so sure about Pete.

While I was mulling this over, Alice phoned. She seemed in a bit of a panic. "I've just had a call from Brian Warmley. I can't leave work and this is urgent. I need your help."

In the fraction of a second before I asked what the problem was, I had a picture of Alice's house going up in flames. It had to be something serious. "What's happened?"

"Brian says that man has turned up again, saying he's from an energy company, and he's selling a new type of heating system for houses like mine."

"So why the panic? It might be worthwhile for you to consider it."

"Abi, he wants to go up into the roof. I think it might be Richard or Michael. That means they've cracked the cryptic clue."

Melanie has a little Fiat she keeps in a space at the rear of Button Up. Her house wasn't on a bus route into town, so she needed the car every day. She let me borrow it in emergencies, and this sounded like a genuine emergency.

"What have you said to Brian, Alice?"

"I told him not to let the man into the house until I phone him back."

"Okay. Give me Brian's number and I'll tell him I'm on my way. I can be there in ten minutes ‒ if the traffic lights aren't all on red as usual."

I phoned Brian to check that the man was still there. Brian said the man was getting a bit impatient, and said all he wanted to do was check the roof space so he could send a competitive quote to Alice.

I told Brian to keep him there until I arrived.

Two minutes later I was buzzing along in Melanie's noisy car on my way for a showdown at Creepy Castle.

### Chapter 21

As I drew up outside Alice and Rupert's house, I could see that Alice's suspicions were justified. I recognised Michael straightaway. He was the most unpleasant of the unpleasant three ‒ even more unpleasant than Esther.

Michael hadn't seen me and he didn't look as though he was going anywhere soon, so I phoned Danny at Branks, Davis & Waters for his advice.

"Don't get into an argument, Abi. Just tell him I'm getting a restraining order to keep him and his brother and sister away from the house. I think Brian and the rest of his team will make sure you don't come to any harm."

I hadn't considered I might come to harm, and wished Danny hadn't said anything. Anyway, I got out of Melanie's car and walked to the gateway.

Michael saw me coming, said something briefly to Brian Warmley, and pushed his way out past me.

"You cow!" he said, as he hurried away. I think he might have used a few extra words.

I started to call after him about Danny getting a restraining order, but I was wasting my breath. He was running down the road and was soon out of sight. I doubted he had heard a word.

I explained the situation to Brian Warmley, and said Alice was glad he'd phoned her to explain about the visitor.

Brian nodded. "I guessed he was up to no good. He's the man I found wandering around the house a couple of days ago."

So that explained how the three had got into the basement for the séance. Michael knew the house well from visiting his uncle. Under the disguise of a central heating representative he must have unscrewed both of the metal hoops the bolts slide into, and put the screws back loosely so they looked okay.

We'd whispered when we arrived to look inside the water tank, overcome by the drama of what we were undertaking. So even if the séance had been about to kick off in the basement, they wouldn't have heard us arriving upstairs.

I explained about the bolts to Brian, and he promised to refit everything with extra long screws if necessary. I suggested he kept the pile of concrete blocks behind the door, but he said that wouldn't be necessary. I wondered if he thought I was casting doubt on his ability to refit the bolts, so I let it pass.

Harry was with a woman wearing paint and plaster splattered coveralls who was about my age, and Brian called to them both to come across. Brian explained the situation to them, and said they must keep the front door and the basement door closed, unless they were working in the house.

Harry beckoned me to one side. "Bethany came round to see me this morning," he said. "She says she's staying with Mr and Mrs Watkins. That's only a few doors away, on the other side. She's an interesting girl."

Interesting? I guessed that was one way of describing Bethany.

"She told me about her strict father and aunt trying to fetch her yesterday. I really feel sorry for her. Anyway, if her father comes anywhere near, I've told her I'm here to protect her. I've given her my phone number, but she says she doesn't have a phone anymore."

Bethany's phone! I'd completely forgotten about it. I needed to pop home and get my spare one, and call at the supermarket to get a SIM card. No way should Bethany be without a phone for emergencies. Stupid, stupid me.

Harry's face was glowing. I hoped it was the chilly wind and not the flush of true love. I wondered why I was hoping that, and decided the jury was out on the wisdom or not of Harry getting to know Bethany better.

"Bethany says her father is very religious," Harry said, turning to make sure Brian wasn't needing him for some urgent job. "It sounds like a strange sort of religion to me. They meet in the front room of a large house, but they won't have anything to do with any churches in the area. And you can only go there by invitation. They seem to spend most of their time finding things wrong with other churches and other people. It sounds as though they think they're so perfect. They say other churches and Christians aren't good enough for them to associate with."

"I think that's sad," I said. "It's not as though we're rival supermarkets trying to get the customers away from each others' shops. Our church does all sorts of things with the local churches."

Harry nodded. "I couldn't agree more. From what you've just said, I guess you're a Christian, too, so you'll probably understand. I've invited Bethany to my church on Sunday. She can meet some _real_ Christians there. _They_ won't judge her for having the baby."

I gulped. "Harry, I didn't know you're a Christian. That's great. Alice and Rupert are Christians, too. Our church is what used to be the old chapel down there." I pointed in the general direction. "Where do you go?"

I hoped I wasn't making it sound as though it was possible I might not approve of his place of worship. Just don't say too much, Abi!

I knew the church when Harry told me about it, but it was quite some way away and I'd never been there. Part of me felt glad about Harry's invitation to Bethany, and part of me felt disappointed. I'd been hoping she would come to my church. I asked Harry how Bethany was going to get there.

"I've got that," Harry said, pointing to a huge bright green off-road motorbike. To my surprise it was road legal. It had a number plate. "I've been wondering if Bethany could sit on the back with little Harry. I'm not sure it would be allowed."

"I'm sure it wouldn't be allowed," I said in surprise. "And if it was, it would be crazy to try it."

"I suppose I could come to your church, but I'd miss my friends." Harry was clearly thinking hard. "My parents have split and I've got a place of my own now. I'm nearly twenty-four."

Was Harry imagining there was a long-term relationship in the offing? It certainly sounded like it. And he'd only just met Bethany. Youth could be impetuous. Good word, that. But it wasn't for me to dissuade ‒ or advise.

"Let's think about it for a couple of days," I said. "Don't make any sudden decisions, Harry. Okay?"

Harry's face fell. Was he living a fantasy that couldn't exist? Shouldn't exist? At that moment I noticed Bethany coming along the road towards us, with little Freddie in the buggy. I frowned. Didn't she remember I'd advised her to stay out of sight all day? Not that I could see her father's car anywhere, but he might be sneaking around on foot.

Harry greeted Bethany like a long lost friend, but at least they didn't start kissing. "I've been telling Abi that I've invited you to my church. The problem is, how can I get you there with the baby?"

Bethany turned to me. "I hope you don't mind. I know you've invited me to your church."

"Bethany," I said, managing to smile, "of course I don't mind. It will be wonderful if you could go to any church where there's real love and acceptance. And I know Harry's church fits the bill perfectly."

Bethany shook her head and turned to Harry. "Abi has kindly bought me these jeans and top, but I've got nothing special to dress up in. My aunt criticises anyone she sees going to any church who isn't wearing their Sunday best. I suppose I could buy something in the shops, but I don't have much money left. Abi's husband is arranging for me to see Social Services about benefits and housing. But until then, I'm more or less skint."

Harry looked Bethany up and down. Several times. I suspected he had more than Bethany's rather plain choice of clothes in mind. "You look fine. Come as you are. No one dresses up."

"You mean it?" Bethany said. "I can come just as I am?"

Harry burst out laughing. "That sounds like the old hymn we sometimes sing."

Bethany frowned. "We don't sing anything like that at my church. How does it go?"

Harry cleared his throat. Then he began to sing the song I knew well. "Just as I am without one plea, But that Thy blood was shed for me, And that Thou bid'st me come to Thee, O Lamb of God, I come, I come."

Bethany looked at Harry in surprise when he stopped. I wasn't sure if she was surprised by Harry's good singing voice, or by the words.

"Is that all there is to it?" Bethany asked, sounding disappointed. "I've never heard anything like it."

Somehow that didn't surprise me. It didn't sound anything like her aunt's religion.

" _Is_ there more?"

Harry nodded.

"Can you sing it for me?"

Harry looked embarrassed, but he seemed keen to please Bethany. Again his soft but firm voice continued. "Just as I am, and waiting not, To rid my soul of one dark blot, To Thee whose blood can cleanse each spot, O Lamb of God, I come, I come."

Bethany had tears in her eyes when Harry stopped. "That can't be right about the dark blot. My aunt says God won't accept anyone who isn't perfect." She pointed to little Freddie in the buggy, who had also been listening to Harry's singing, apparently enraptured. "My aunt says _he's_ a dark blot. A disgrace on the family, and I have to get rid of him."

Harry seemed visibly shaken. "Get _rid_ of him?"

"I know I did wrong in going to that party, but my aunt says if I want God to forgive me, my only hope is to give who up the blot on my life ‒ little Freddie. I just can't do that. She calls me a scarlet woman, whatever that is. I can guess, anyway."

I put my arm round Bethany. "Jesus said He came _specially_ for people with big blots, not for people who think they're already perfect."

At that moment Brian called to Harry and said he was needed in the house. The young woman was busy mixing plaster, so it looked as though the interior walls were being patched up.

"Of _course_ God can forgive you," I said gently. "Jesus said He came specially for the outcasts of society. I guess you count as that ‒ in your father's and aunt's eyes. I know God loves little Freddie just as much as He loves you, Bethany. Believe it. Come round this evening and we can talk about it."

Bethany promised she would. I could tell she was excited to know more. As Harry opened the front door wide, I could see a toilet pan in the hallway. There was already a new one in the bathroom upstairs, so this had to be for the new cloakroom in the hall.

Things were certainly moving fast. Alice and Rupert could soon be moving out of mine. Not too soon, I hoped. Even though I had Danny, their company was fun.

I phoned Melanie and explained I wouldn't be back just yet. I had to collect my freshly charged spare phone from home and buy a pay-as-you-go SIM card in the supermarket. Melanie of course said that was fine. I loved her. Even if they were rushed off their feet at Button Up, in the circumstances she would still tell me not to hurry back.

I reminded Bethany to go straight back to Julie's house, and reminded her she would be wise to stay indoors and out of sight all day, just in case her father was roaming around.

It was then that I remembered putting Bethany's phone on the train. I guessed the battery would still be alive. I dialled the number and it rang several times but wasn't answered. I wasn't bothered about that. The main thing was that Bethany's father would still be trying to track it down, wherever it was – hopefully a hundred miles away. If someone had taken it to use, they were going to be in for a shock when the irate father pounced.

With Melanie's car, it didn't take me long to pick up the phone and buy a SIM card. I dropped the phone back at the Watkins' house.

"Send your father a text with the new number on it, but don't say where you are or actually speak to him on the phone. I doubt he'll be able to track you down, but it's best not to risk it."

I wanted to tell Danny and Alice and Rupert about young Harry's hankering after Bethany, but I would have to wait until we were all back home at the end of the day.

I was also impatient to look in the water tank in the roof of Alice's house. I almost felt like doing it by myself there and then, but I managed to restrain myself. It wouldn't be fair on the others if I came home wearing a Fabergé diadem and matching bling.

Chapter 22

"The house will be safely locked up by now," Danny said, showing great patience. "So we can have our evening meal first."

I realised the patience bit was one point on which we differed, but other than that we were a perfect match. "I think we ought to go as soon as possible. I wouldn't put it past Michael smashing a ground floor window round the back to get in. The alarm was disconnected when Brian first started work on the house."

That certainly caused Danny to rethink. "You're right, Abi. Let me change into some old clothes and go now."

I knew how long it took for Danny to hang up his Italian cut slate blue suit, and told him I was going ahead with Alice and Rupert, and he could catch us up. Maybe every second counted.

Rupert grabbed his LED lantern from the cupboard under the stairs, and we hurried up the road. There were no lights on in the house, but that wasn't surprising. I doubted Brian would have had the house rewired yet, so the mains was still off.

Rupert took an infuriatingly long time to get the keys into the two locks. While he and Alice went up to the landing, I hurried down to the basement to make sure the back door was firmly bolted. It was. There was still a pile of concrete blocks stacked against it. Well done, Brian. See, I was right!

Upstairs, Rupert had already placed the ladder against the hatch to the loft. So far so good. I doubted any of the Newton Three had managed to gain access.

Suddenly, we heard knocking on the front door. We all went down to see who it was. Three of us could put up a better defence than one. I heard Danny's voice calling through the letterbox, and with a feeling of great relief I opened the door.

"Wow, you were quick," I said. "I hope you hung your suit up carefully." I was proud of that suit. It made Danny look like a proper solicitor – which he already was. I saw it as power dressing.

Danny assured me he had hung it up most carefully, and we made our way upstairs again. Rupert was first up the ladder, sliding the hatch to one side.

"Don't touch anything in the tank until we all get there," Alice shouted up after him.

Rupert had the lantern, and the rest of us were using the flashlights on our phones. I noticed Rupert had a long stick, but I had a much better idea. If we held her legs, Alice could lean right over and reach into the tank. Well, it was her house, not mine. To be absolutely honest, I didn't fancy the idea of falling headfirst onto the dead cat.

That's exactly what Alice did. Not falling onto the dead cat, but leaning in and poking around with her hands.

She removed the two bricks and some rags. I didn't expect the Russian jewels to be under the rags. I mean, how big is a tiara?

"I don't think it's under anything in here," Alice said.

She poked around a bit more and clearly there was nothing of any value to be found. Had Michael got here first, or had we misunderstood the cryptic clue?

" _Under_ her _!_ " I called out. "The clue didn't say the tiara and stuff was _inside_ Kathrene Watt, did it." That was a statement, not a question. "The wording was 'Kathrene Watt is guarding them safely _under_ her, where I can easily retrieve them if necessary.' When we knew they weren't under the floorboards, one of us thought they might be under some water, and we got fixated with water, especially when you worked out the water tank anagram, Alice. Your uncle must have been obsessed with thinking in anagrams.."

Even as I spoke, Alice crouched down and reached into the space under the platform that supported the water tank. With an excited yelp she pulled out a brown canvas bag. I found myself wishing I'd been the one to do it, but Alice deserved to be successful. After all, she'd managed to solve the anagram ‒ a task where I, the Cryptic Queen, had failed miserably.

Tantalisingly, Alice said she wasn't going to open the bag until we were downstairs in the dining room. There might be loose jewels in the bag which would roll out and disappear in the muck between the joists. I agreed we should wait. Perhaps I was learning to be patient after all.

We watched anxiously as we gathered round the large dining table to watch Alice untie the neck of the brown canvas bag, which was like a small sack. With our hands placed strategically so that nothing would roll off the table, she put her hand in and drew out a dirty gold tiara.

Even by the bright light from Rupert's lantern the diamonds and rubies seemed rather dull. Well, they would be, after being in that bag up in the loft for decades. I thought Alice looked rather disappointed.

"It's rather light," she said. "I thought gold is heavy."

I shrugged. "It's not meant to be heavy, if you're going to wear it for the whole day or evening. I'm sure Fabergé or whoever made it designed it specially to be light. It's not much more than a frame holding the diamonds and rubies."

"It definitely _looks_ like gold," Rupert said. "I think we ought to wash it in soapy water in the kitchen. Do it in a plastic bowl, in case any of the diamonds or rubies drop out."

Of course, there was no hot water, but there was some washing-up liquid by the side of the kitchen sink. I guessed cold water would be good enough. And it certainly wouldn't harm a gold tiara.

Alice hadn't finished fishing inside the bag. Wrapped in a large white handkerchief, which had black mould on it from the time it had been hidden, she produced two diamond earrings with large rubies. And wrapped in another mouldy handkerchief we found a matching necklace.

"It's all rather grubby for gold," Alice observed, sounding on the disappointed side of disappointed. "I was expecting it to be all bright and gleaming."

While the three made their way to the kitchen with the tiara, I examined the clasp of the necklace, shining my flashlight on it from various angles. No Fabergé mark. Well, not that I would know what a Fabergé mark looked like, but there was no indication of a maker.

I felt inside the canvas in case Alice had missed anything. I could feel paper, and pulled out a small package folded up inside some damp kitchen towels or tissues. Diamonds!

By the time I got to the kitchen, Alice was swishing the tiara around in the plastic bowl, the washing-up liquid making the cold water froth up. She removed it after a couple of minutes, and gently shook it over the bowl to remove most of the water.

I placed the diamonds on the table and waited for Alice to notice them, but she was preoccupied with the tiara.

"That's more like it," she said, as the diamonds and large rubies in the tiara sparkled in the light from Rupert's lantern. The soapy water had also removed the dirty coating from the gold. The tiara looked fabulous.

I felt a sort of hot and cold running up my back and neck to my cheeks. Were we really looking at a set of jewellery worth two or three million pounds? Something just didn't seem right. Although the diamonds sparkled, they looked nothing like the diamond in my engagement ring. Of course, there was a foolproof test for diamonds. Could they scratch glass? Dare I suggest it?

Without saying anything I pointed to my discovery of the loose diamonds. There had to be at least ten. I can't judge carat sizes, but these were nearly as large as the fake stone mounted on the ring Melanie's Italian fiancé had given her.

"Oh, I hope, I hope all this is genuine," Alice gasped. "First thing tomorrow morning we'll take it to the jeweller where you bought your engagement ring, Abi. He'll be able to tell us."

I decided it was only fair to suggest we tested the diamonds first. There was no point in Alice and Rupert staying up all night, thinking they were sitting on a fortune.

"There's a test we can do now," Danny said, sparing me from being the one to bear the possible bad news. "We can see if the diamonds scratch the window."

They say great minds think alike.

Alice nodded. "Sounds good to me. Brian is fitting double glazed units into the existing frames, so this glass is coming out. You try it, Rupert. I'm scared to look."

Rupert examined the tiara. The problem was that none of the diamonds seemed to protrude far enough for a sharp corner to be able to scratch anything. The rubies were large, but I guessed rubies don't scratch glass, and it would be a shame to damage them. I picked up one of the loose diamonds. Perfect.

I handed it to Rupert. "Go on, try this, but I'm also scared to look."

Rupert went to one of the kitchen windows, and we heard a sort of scraping noise as he drew it down the glass. Then he did it again. Then again. I suspected there was a problem.

"I think we'll leave it for the jeweller to tell us," Rupert said, sounding disappointed. "I might not have been doing it right."

Of course, interfering me had to try. This time with the necklace. Also without success.

We returned to my house after securely locking up. I didn't think we had been doing the test incorrectly, but there was just a chance. A very small chance. Then I brightened up. At least the tiara was gold.

### Chapter 23

(Last chapter)

The jeweller didn't look impressed when we showed him our discovery, and said it was "interesting," whatever that meant. He told us to call back when he'd done some tests.

I was almost holding my breath when we went back the next day. Sadly, he pronounced the tiara and associated items as being not much more than costume jewellery. There were no Russian assay marks for gold. He pointed out that all the "diamonds" and "rubies" were a hard crystal, and the metalwork was thin gold plate on a base metal.

He had removed all the grime from the tiara in an ultrasonic bath of chemicals, and it certainly looked like proper gold. But in case we had any doubts, he showed us where the gold plating had been damaged by corrosion of the base metal in the damp atmosphere of the loft. That was something we'd missed in our excitement.

The only good news was that from the workmanship he could tell it was of Russian manufacture. Something about the way the so-called diamonds and rubies were cut and mounted, and a couple of small symbols on the back of the tiara. Yes, a tiara, _not_ a diadem. Goodbye, Fabergé!

"So Uncle Isaac's grandmother must have sold the real thing to pay her escape to England," Alice said sadly, when we got home to mine. "So why did she wear all this for society events if she knew it was fake?"

I shrugged. "I expect she wanted to put on a show of the social status of a Russian Countess. No one would be rude enough to ask to examine them closely."

Alice gave a deep sigh. "Maybe her daughter never knew, and nor did Uncle Isaac. That's why he called them precious."

"They must still be worth something," I said, ever hopeful.

Alice shrugged. "Yes, of course. The jeweller reckons possibly a few hundred for their historical interest. Maybe a thousand or two in total. Certainly not millions."

"Don't sell them, Alice. You must keep them for their family connection."

"Yes, I'm definitely keeping everything. I'll get an official valuation and send it with the money to my sister and brothers. I'm looking at it this way. The original jewellery got Uncle Isaac's grandmother safely out of Russia, before she could come to a nasty end in the Revolution, and _his_ mother came out as a small baby. Let's be glad for them, not sorry for ourselves."

I think Alice really meant it. I hoped I would feel as generous after such a big disappointment. Not that there's any hidden money with my family. But that doesn't matter, because I have Danny. Ah!

At the time of writing, Bethany hasn't seen her father. She's phoned him briefly a couple of times. So that sounds promising ‒ in a way. I'm more worried about the aunt than the father. Of course he's demanded to know where she is, but so far she's decided not to tell him.

Danny came up with a clever idea. He knows a young solicitor in Dalchester. They were studying law together, and he's agreed to check up on the truth of any pleas for Bethany to return home urgently because of some so-called family illness or disaster. Bethany didn't like to tell her father of this arrangement, but in the end she told him in a long text. So far, no one in her family is pleading sickness.

The following Sunday I took Bethany and little Freddie in the car to Harry's church. Of course, it meant buying a baby seat, but Bethany has decided to stay in the area, so I knew we'd be making use of it over the next few months. Harry has arranged with his mother to borrow her car on Sundays so he will be able to collect Bethany for the day. And we'll lend him the baby seat. I didn't like to pry – do I ever – but I think Harry's mother has met Bethany and taken to her and baby Freddie.

I found everyone to be so welcoming at the church, and Harry, knowing we were coming, had arranged with the vicar for everyone to sing _Just as I am_. As it came to an end, I heard a gentle wailing sound. My first thoughts were it was little Freddie, then a stuck note on the keyboard. It was Bethany, on her knees. I really do believe she has now found Jesus for herself, as a loving and forgiving Saviour.

Although she hasn't moved yet, Social Services are looking for suitable accommodation. However, in the meantime Julie and Paul Watkins say they are more than willing for Bethany to stay with them in the spare bedroom. I guess their hearing isn't very good, because they don't seem to mind the baby crying in the night.

Alice has told Bethany that as soon as Brian has finished the upstairs of their house and they move in, he's going to sort out the basement to make it into a separate apartment. So if Bethany would like it, they would love her to occupy it with little Freddie.

Brian says the bars will have to come off the windows if someone is going to live down there. The one door to the outside wouldn't provide sufficient escape in the event of fire. Personally, I can't wait for the bars to go. I still get a creepy feeling up my back and down my arms whenever I think of the face on the video looking out through the bars.

Yes, I know it was Bethany's face, but the next one might not be hers. To see Bethany looking out through the plain glass, holding little Freddie and smiling and waving when I come to visit, would be perfect. So I really hope she takes up Alice and Rupert's offer.

I really hope we've seen the last of Bethany's father and miserable old aunt. Not that I actually saw them. Danny, being a man, said he hadn't noticed them properly, in spite of meeting them face to face. He claimed he'd been traumatised by their sudden and angry appearance. So I won't recognise them if they come looking for Bethany again. Maybe I should say, _when_ they come looking for Bethany again.

Now that the jewellery is of historical interest only, and Alice's siblings have seen proof of that, Danny decided not to get a restraining order. He also wisely decided not to get one for Bethany's father. It would have to be drawn up by a local court, which would completely give away where Bethany was living. That's a clever junior solicitor for you. I would never have thought of that.

It's going to be great having a big Christmas celebration in my house. Bethany and little Freddie are coming to stay, because Julie and Paul will be away visiting family. Judging by the way things are going with Harry and Bethany, we might be inviting Harry as well!

Melanie and Steve came to my church on Sunday, and I'm not sure what they made of it. I'll have to think about inviting them to join us all for Christmas, but their minds are so full of their forthcoming wedding in February, they may not even notice it _is_ Christmas when it comes. But young Liam is living with them now, and I'm pretty sure he's going to remind them.

###  Epilogue

This is Ira D Sankey's account of how Charlotte Elliott came to write the hymn, _Just as I am_ , the hymn that meant so much to Bethany.

It's from Sankey's _Story of the Gospel Hymns_ 1906:

Miss Charlotte Elliott was visiting some friends in the West End of London, and there met the eminent [Swiss evangelist] minister, César Malan. While seated at supper, the minister said he hoped that she was a Christian. She took offense at this, and replied that she would rather not discuss that question. Dr. Malan said that he was sorry if he had offended her, that he always liked to speak a word for his Master, and that he hoped the young lady would some day become a worker for Christ.

When they met again at the home of a mutual friend three weeks later, Miss Elliott told the minister that ever since he had spoken to her she had been trying to find her Saviour, and that she now wished him to tell her how to come to Christ. "Just come to Him as you are," Dr. Malan said. This she did, and went away rejoicing. Shortly afterward she wrote this hymn, _Just as I am, without one plea_.

"In all my preaching," said her brother, the Rev HV Elliott, "I have not done so much good as my sister has been permitted to accomplish by writing her one hymn, _Just as I am_."

If the hymnal.net link to hear the music is broken, enter the first line in a search engine. This link is to the original tune and lyrics.

### Just as I Am

Words by Charlotte Elliott

Music by William B. Bradbury

https://www.hymnal.net/en/hymn/h/1048

Just as I am, without one plea

But that Thy blood was shed for me,

And that Thou bid'st me come to Thee,

O Lamb of God, I come! I come.

Just as I am, though tossed about

With many a conflict, many a doubt,

Fighting and fears within without,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, and waiting not

To rid my soul of one dark blot,

To Thee whose blood can cleanse each spot,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind ‒

Sight, riches, healing of the mind,

Yea, all I need, in Thee to find,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

<><><><>

From Sankey's Favorite Hymns and Songs, A Selection and their Stories by Ira D Sankey, White Tree Publishing eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-66-7

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_Tall Men and Strangers_ is the first Abi Button Cozy Mystery Romance.

Abigail (Abi) Button is thirty-one, and in spite of kissing a few frogs she has yet to find her prince. On the lookout for a tall, dark stranger (but not too strange) she realises he has been living nearby all the time. It's just that she has not really noticed Jack Thornley until she meets him in her road late one evening, standing by an emergency ambulance.

Abi's elderly neighbour is Ivy Smith, and she's ninety-one. She gives Abi a small silver key, telling her to keep it secret from her nephew Jack who is helping to care for her. What the key opens, Abi has no idea.

Ivy worries that she hears someone moving around her house at night, when she should be alone. Abi tries to reassure her by saying it's only the old house settling at night, or noisy neighbours, but Ivy Smith is unconvinced. Soon Abi is unconvinced, too.

As Abi's friendship with Jack develops, he invites her to his local church where she meets Danny. Much to her embarrassment she remembers kissing Danny at school. Old memories start to surface, threatening to put the relationship with Jack in jeopardy.

A cozy mystery romance taking place in a small English town, told by Abi Button.

_Poetry and Mayhem_ is the second Abi Button Cozy Mystery Romance.

Abi Button gets involved with the lazy nephews and nieces of their elderly uncle who lived in the creepy house at the far end of her road. Isaac Whittard Magritte Newton, to give him his full name, has set a cryptic clue in his will for the siblings to solve. The will says the first nephew or niece who can solve the clue is going to be extremely wealthy, but the puzzle seems unbreakable. The old man once set crossword puzzles for two of the national newspapers, and other puzzles for various magazines. Abi, with her modest skills in cryptic crosswords, has to admit defeat.

Also on Abi's mind, perhaps as a matter of greater importance than solving the clue that will help four squabbling siblings, is her developing friendship with junior solicitor Danny Wells. She wonders if she has at last found the right man. Melanie Upton ‒ Abi's co-owner of Button Up coffee shop ‒ assures Abi that this one is definitely a keeper. But as Abi points out, Melanie says the same thing about every man Abi gets to know.

_Cake and Calamity_ , the third Abi Button Cozy Mystery Romance.

"Organising a wedding is a piece of cake," to quote Abigail (Abi) Button. She could be right, because a local wedding shop provides the whole service: bridal gowns, venue, cake, food, cars ... everything that makes the perfect wedding. Apart from husbands!

Meanwhile, Melanie Upton ‒ Abi Button's co-owner of Button Up coffee shop ‒ confides in Abi that romance is in the air with an Italian property investor called Romero Rocco. Can it be true?

Abi's new friend and neighbour is also getting married. She now owns the house Abi calls Creepy Mansion. She says getting a builder to restore the old house should also be a simple matter. So with a joint wedding planned for Abi and her new friend, Abi asks, "What can possibly go wrong?"

A cozy mystery romance taking place in a small English town, told by Abi Button.

_Ghouls and Jewels_ _,_ this book, the fourth Abi Button Cozy Mystery Romance.

_Doughnuts and Disaster_ , the fifth Abi Button Cozy Mystery romance.

It's late February and the area is experiencing an unexpected cold snap, with snow. Liam, Steve Donovan's eight-year-old son, is staying with Abi while Steve and Melanie are on their honeymoon.

Single mum Bethany's friendship with Harry the builder seems to be turning into a romance, maybe even a wedding, if Bethany's father and aunt can be kept away. Pete and Hayley also wonder if this is a good opportunity to discuss marriage!

Abi is concerned when Bethany reports a man wearing a long raincoat, hanging around the playground opposite Abi's house taking photographs. Bethany is afraid that her father and disagreeable Aunt Erica have sent him to spy on her, with a view to snatching baby Freddie. Abi thinks there are two men watching. Why two?

Young Liam is clearly upset by all the changes in his life, and Abi tries to win his confidence with jam doughnuts. Abi warns Liam and his friends to keep away from the pond in the woods, because the ice is too thin to walk on. But Liam is on the hunt for Bigfoot, convinced he lives somewhere amongst the trees.

**White Tree Publishing** publishes mainstream evangelical Christian literature in paperback and eBook formats, for people of all ages. We aim to make our eBooks available free for all eBook devices, but some distributors will only list our books free at their discretion, and may make a small charge for some titles ‒ but they are still great value!

We rely on our readers to tell their families, friends and churches about our books. Social media is a great way of doing this. Take a look at our range of fiction and non-fiction books and pass the word on. You can even contact your Christian TV or radio station to let them know about these books. Also, please write a positive review if you are able.

Check out our website to find over 100 fiction and non-fiction books, including a range of books for younger readers. The majority of our fiction books are Victorian romances carefully and lovingly edited and abridged for readers today.

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