I handed her a torch and we sprinted out the gate.
I took Nesbit straight back to where I’d found him earlier that day. If Joan was intending on hiding from us, then she’d have moved on by now, but it would hopefully be enough for Nesbit to remember that his best friend was here, and pick up her scent again.
I’d thought the hour or so that Sam and I had spent hunting my dog had been frightening. This was a living hell. Pushing through the freezing wet undergrowth, slipping and squelching as what had been dusty paths turned to a mudslide and the rain dripped off our noses.
I tried not to picture Joan, alone, cold and scared as her dreams of living free in the forest became a brutal reality. Instead I kept my head lowered against the stinging rain, swung the torch in a calculated arc to avoid missing any signs of human life, and thundered down the forest paths, even as my blood thundered through my veins.
Once we reached the clearing, I tried Sam again. Again, no answer, but I had next to no reception and if he was on his way, the call might not have got through. I let Nesbit sniff around and then as soon as he caught a scent that he wanted to follow, we were off again.
More endless minutes of pushing through brambles and nettles, losing our footing on loose tree roots and stumbling in the darkness as the rain began to seep through our clothing and numb our freezing hands. I was beyond grateful to have Irene’s sensible shoes plodding right behind me, her silence somehow more reassuring than if she’d been trying to say something to make me feel better.
The twisting paths left me completely disorientated. In the darkness it was impossible to tell if I’d been in this section of the forest before. Irene eventually spoke, urging me to rest for a few minutes to catch my breath and my bearings, but I couldn’t ignore the compulsion to keep going until I knew Joan was safe.
Eventually, we had the reaction we’d been praying for. Nesbit started jerking at the end of the lead, barking and whining as he darted towards a sharp slope. Feet scrabbling for purchase on the carpet of wet leaves, I careened behind him, shouting Joan’s name.
Just as my torch picked up the tent in the hollow below us, the lead snagged on a low branch and sent me sprawling into the dirt, tumbling down the rest of the incline while Nesbit broke free from my grip. I landed in a crumpled heap right in front of the tent entrance.
Every scratch and bruise dissolved into nothing when I saw the pale face peeking out and a scared, cold eleven-year-old collapsed into my arms, her dog smothering her in kisses.
34
‘What’s Irene doing here?’ Joan asked, once she’d prised herself out of my hug.
‘Looking for you,’ I replied, adjusting my position to try to ease the stabbing pain in my ankle. ‘Lots of people are.’
‘Oh.’ Joan pushed her mouth to one side of her face, eyes lowered. ‘Is Mum here?’
‘She’s at the cottage with Grandad. It was very hard for her not to come looking, but she knew she couldn’t get very far.’
‘Everyone is very, very worried,’ Irene added.
Joan swiped at the tears now mingling with the rain on her face. ‘They were supposed to think I was at a sleepover.’
‘This evening. What about tomorrow, and the day after that? Never mind you took Nesbit. I thought someone had stolen him.’ I kept my voice gentle as it was clear that the reality of what she’d done was starting to sink in.
Covering her face with both hands, she dissolved into hoarse sobs, only pausing to wail, ‘I want my Mum!’
‘Come on then, let’s get you home. Grab what you need for tonight; we can fetch the rest in the morning.’
By the time Joan re-emerged from the tent with her rucksack, it was clear that getting her home was not going to be that simple. I’d twisted my ankle quite badly, and even if I’d been strong enough to hobble a few steps, there was no way it would bear my weight all the way back. Neither Irene nor I had any signal on our phones, which was common in the forest hollows, and we had no idea how close we were to a main path, or anything else.
‘I’ll retrace our steps until my phone picks up reception again, then let people know Joan is safe but we need help.’ Irene looked at Joan thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know if it’s best for you to come with me, or stay in the tent so at least you’re warm and dry.’
‘I’m staying with Ollie.’ Joan grabbed my arm with both hands. ‘And Nesbit. We can’t leave her here unable to walk! What if the Beast of Bigley finds her?’
‘It might be best for her to wait with me. For all we know there’s a main road on the other side of that hill, and she can get a lift back in a car rather than trekking for miles in the wet.’ I looked at Irene, soaked to the skin and shivering with fatigue as much as the cold. I didn’t add what I was thinking, that she could easily end up trailing around in circles out here; it was so difficult to maintain any sense of direction in the dark.