The Summer of Lies by Louise Douglas

Author:Louise Douglas [Douglas, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-07T00:00:00+00:00

34

They walked around the outskirts of the grounds, keeping close to the perimeter wall. Mila was holding her phone in her hands, watching their digital progress as they moved towards the shed. With each step, they came closer to the pin, and with each step, Mila became more aware of the tension in her body; the adrenaline kicking in, preparing her for whatever trouble they might encounter. Her mouth was dry. She felt alert and alive; she could think of nothing but the next moment, the next footstep, the next breath.

Soon enough, they reached a series of tumbledown barns and sheds: the convent’s old agricultural buildings. They were situated on wasteland; weeds recolonising an area that had been covered in concrete which was now crumbling. A couple of ancient vehicles were rusting quietly; rotten tyres were heaped in a pile, the black rubber shining in the heat. An ancient bale of hay had burst out of its plastic wrapping. A feral cat was stretched out in the sunshine. It rolled over, extending its claws. Apart from birdsong and the occasional burst of noise from the AquaSplash, the place was creepily quiet.

‘It looks like Billie parked the van here,’ said Carter, pointing to tyre tracks in the dust. ‘This must’ve been as far as she could bring it.’

It was far enough. In this spot, the van would have been completely hidden. Nobody passing by on the other side of the wall would have had any idea it was there. Next to the tracks, an empty two-litre paint can lay on its side, the lid a little distant.

‘The van’s not here now,’ said Mila.

‘Doesn’t necessarily mean Billie’s not around. I’ll message Sandrine and ask if the van’s been pinged anywhere. Either way, we need to take it slow, okay? And if we see Billie, you leave the talking to me.’

Carter was skilled in negotiating with terrorists in hostage situations. He also knew how to talk to someone off their head on crack. Mila didn’t usually like being told what to do, but on this occasion was content to play deputy.

‘Which building is the sheep shed?’ Carter asked.

‘None of these. It’s over there, behind the barn.’

They walked across the disintegrating concrete, around the side of a dilapidated barn, and there, beyond, was a long, low shed with a corrugated metal roof.

Carter glanced back at Mila.

She nodded. ‘That’s it.’

It was obvious from the dead, flattened grass and the paths tramped through the dirt that the shed had been in recent use. A thin, heavily stained, single-size mattress was propped against the outer wall, sagging in the middle. Someone had attempted to clean it – there were bleach stains in the middle and spatters where buckets of water had been thrown at it, but it had been given up as a bad job and the mattress left outside to dry in the sunshine.

Mila’s body prickled with tension. She was on the highest alert, jumping at a scuffling sound, but it was only a ragged hen scratching in the undergrowth.

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