Zack hoped so. But the niggling feeling he had in his stomach suggested otherwise.
Three hours earlier
The last anyone had seen of Lena had been the day before when she’d called into the Post Office and bought a new scarf from Gran. Gran hadn’t been too concerned with Lena and how she’d seemed, simply summing up their encounter as “lovely girl, but she really needs a boyfriend to show her a good time. Bit of a stress reliever.”
Sorrell hadn’t commented, entirely unsure as to what to say. However, she had spotted another hand knitted scarf, this one a tight black knit and extra-long, designed for a man, so she’d bought it for Zack. Gran had withheld from the comment, which could’ve been any number of things that were all slightly disturbing, and had instead patted the donation tin, which now referred to the ‘Coven Gin Distillery’ and referred to how they’d be using Severton Spring water. Sorrell hadn’t even known that Severton had a spring.
She’d then headed to Lena’s aunt, getting the distinct impression that she’d be happy to not have much to do with Lena at all. All the aunt had said about the man who had been pestering her was that he’d been a member of the church, but not recently as they’d asked him to leave. Because Lena had chosen to leave, he’d become a little fixated on her, but the aunt denied knowing more.
Sorrell wasn’t sure if she did know more. Lena’s aunt had been coy with what she said, and saying very little about the church, something that was still a mystery to Sorrell. It was in Severton, or really Underwood, but the people who lived there were fairly self-sufficient and the people who didn’t live there but were part of its wider community tended to keep to themselves.
Driving to Lena’s parents was next. The twenty-minute drive took half an hour because of the conditions and it proved fruitless. The house was closed up, curtains shut and no one answered. A neighbour came out, an older lady in her seventies, and said the family had gone away on a retreat over Christmas, so Sorrell figured they were staying at Felley Manor, where she could visit, but she was pretty sure that Lena wouldn’t have joined her parents there, unless she’d had a complete one-eighty change of mind.
As a last resort, she rang Cam, who was staying at his brother’s in Sheffield. He’d been concerned about the fact he hadn’t heard from Lena in a couple of days. He was also the only person she mentioned to about the caves and meeting this strange man there. He’d offered to head straight back and help her look for Lena, but Sorrell had turned him down, saying that she’d just drive up there herself for the meeting time.
It had seemed like an impossibility that Lena would actually go and meet a man she had been trying to avoid, but her levels of naivety were high for a woman of her age, which meant Sorrell couldn’t discount the idea that she’d met him in the caves. Which shouldn’t be open. So they should be in the car park, having a discussion. She would go and check because there was no point in calling the police again, although she had that morning. And she’d left a message for Alex.
It was just after three when she saw Lena’s little Fiat parked near to the caves. It was the only car there, a sense of relief flooding her and then indignation at Lena’s choice. Why hadn’t she told someone, or asked for help? Why had she driven up here in her little car that wasn’t the safest on these roads? Why any parent could let their child grow up without instilling in them the means to keep themselves safe was beyond her.
Sorrell got out of her car and locked the doors. It was mid-afternoon, but already the sunlight was fading, pale yellow ribbons floating through a grey sky. She immediately went to Lena’s car, expecting to see the girl sitting in the driver’s seat, probably reading a book.
There was no girl there. Sorrell felt the hood of the car. It was warm, warm enough to stop the snow from sticking to it yet, so Lena hadn’t been here too long.
She went back to her car, dragging her feet through the snow, thankful that the Severton pop up choir had given a cave concert on Christmas Day and the roads and car park had been cleared of snow and gritted for that.
Common sense told her that Lena had gone to wait in the caves. How she would get in, Sorrell didn’t know as only specific people had keys to the entrance. She went to her car and took out her thicker coat and the scarf she’d bought for Zack. Her bag wasn’t suitable for traipsing in to the caves, but she wanted her phone. Maybe now would be a good time to call Zack, let him know where she was.
No signal.
Something within her started to flicker, an ounce of panic mixed with a quarter of fear. She was the woman who made others feel safe, who created a safe haven in her therapist’s room and a secure base from which others could explore their memories and feelings. She wasn’t the adventurer or the risk taker. She knew who to call if those things were necessary, but that wasn’t an option.
Sorrell pulled off a glove and sent a text message to Zack. If, by any chance, she wandered through a spot of signal it would hopefully send.
At the stalagmite caves. Looking for Lena. Got you a gift xxx
Then she sent another, not thinking about it, just feeling.
I don’t need twelve days.She added a heart.
Present time
“I don’t suppose you still have a key?” Scott said as they pulled onto the drive. “Or she’s given you a key, given that you’ve been there for the past fuck knows how many weeks.”
“No key,” Zack said. “But I worked here for seven years; I can get in without one.”
“Does she know that?”
“No. And there’s no reason for you to tell her. Round the back and down. The cellar door.”
Scott followed him, asking no further questions, standing back as Zack dropped down the steps and lifted up the wooden cellar door. He was working on the theory that Sorrell hadn’t done anything to the cellar yet, except to use it as storage. She had plans to expand the bar in spring, and there was the possibility that she’d start to serve cask beers, if the engineering could be worked out.
Two lifts and a push and the door opened. He headed down more steps into the cellar, straight to a set of shelves. Just as he remembered, there was a key behind a paint can. The key to the door to get into the rest of the building.
“I don’t think you should tell her,” Scott said.
Zack shrugged. “I can’t get in her cottage. She’s going to ask how I managed to get in here.”
Inside the hotel felt odd to Zack. There had never been a time when he’d been inside without at least three other people being with him. The air felt stagnant and still; the place held a sense of emptiness as if it was lonely and waiting for more guests.
