Chapter 13: DRAMA IN THE GARDEN POND
She had to attract attention away from the house and quickly. Lou hurled Jack’s white bed sheet into the centre of the pond, then issued a bloodcurdling shriek. What poor Mrs Owen would think when she heard it, Lou could not imagine.
‘Idwal, Idwal bach!’ (Idwal dear!) shouted Lou loudly and distinctly. ‘Wyt ti yn y pwll? Dweud wrtho fi bochdi’n iawn!’ (Are you in the pond? Tell me you’re ok!).
It wasn’t the most eloquent Welsh Lou had ever spoken, and she was struggling to keep to the North Wales dialect used around those parts. Having learnt some of the language from books as well as from locals, she could easily accidentally mix in the more standard South Welsh if she wasn’t careful. That could raise suspicions among Idwal’s followers. Dishonest and immoral they might be, but they were a close-knit bunch who would be quick to scent an outsider.
Lou’s cries had the desired effect. The banging and crashing against the back door ceased. A dozen spectral figures hurried in ungainly fashion over to the pond, their inability to float like real ghosts only too obvious. They gasped when they peered into the water. A large white sheet, looking decidedly like the remains of an expired phantom, was starting to sink below the surface.
‘Idwal,’ they began shouting. ‘Idwal!’ The cries became more desperate.
‘Beth sy wedi digwydd?’ (what’s happened?), asked one of their number looking towards Lou.
‘Dwi ddim yn gwybod. ’Nes i weld ei law ddiflanu o dan y dwr, ac yna, dim byd,’ (I don’t know. I saw his hand disappear under the water and then, nothing), said Lou, anxious not to be drawn into a long conversation.
Under different circumstances, the others might have questioned why a very young female ghost with a less than perfect Caernarvonshire accent had turned up in their midst in this way. Most likely, she was a younger sister of one of them who had come along for the ride. But with Idwal’s life under threat, none gave any thought to such matters.
Upon reaching their van, it had finally occurred to the mob of ghosts that Idwal was not among them. With no reply on his mobile phone, they went back to the farmhouse to find out what had happened. They had been alarmed to hear muffled noises from inside the building and feared that Idwal had been injured or taken prisoner. But now this tearful young ghost was pointing sorrowfully to a garden pond, telling them that she had seen his hand sinking below the water. All that appeared to be left of their leader was his white bed sheet!
‘Idwal, Idwal!’ they called out sorrowfully.
Then, splash! One of the men, having pulled his ghost outfit off and the coat and jumper beneath it, leapt into the freezing cold pond. To cries of ‘Hywel, bod yn ofalus!’ (Hywel, be careful!), he swam to the bottom, searching for his friend.
With all eyes firmly fixed on the unfolding drama, Lou edged her way to the rear of the gathering. Then, she calmly turned tail and walked briskly towards the house and into the shadows. If so much as one of them turned round and saw her, the game would probably be up, but no-one did. They were too engrossed.
She walked round to the gable end and to the study window where she had left Jack, praying that he would still be there. He had pulled the window shut and moved away from it, in case a ghost other than Lou peered through. He gave a start when he saw her shrouded face. Jack didn’t immediately recognise her. Lou gave him a thumbs up and indicated to him to climb out.
As he did so, Lou pulled her bed sheet off. ‘There’s no point only one of us being dressed as ghosts,’ she said, flashing Jack a quick smile. ‘Come on, we’ll be ok, I promise, take my hand.’
Jack pushed the window back in place and took Lou’s hand gratefully. They weren’t safe yet and he knew it.
‘Keep back for a minute,’ Lou whispered to him as they approached the corner of the house.
Lou peeped round. The ghosts were still gathered anxiously around the pond, bending so far over the edge she was surprised they didn’t fall in. She watched with disgust. She had half a mind to go over and give them a jolly good shove. How kind of them to care so much for Idwal’s welfare yet be willing to scare his great aunt half to death so that they could take her house from her and turn it into a headquarters for their criminal activities.
Lou gave Jack’s arm a tug. ‘Come on,’ she said. They crept as quietly as they could across the patio, praying they would not accidentally step on a twig or kick a flowerpot over in the darkness. The moon had disappeared behind a cloud so they could not properly see where they were going. On the other hand, they were far less visible should any of the worried group keeping vigil at the pondside choose to glance round.
As they passed the back door, Lou slipped the key under the mat. The police could use it to get in, so they wouldn’t need to smash the door in. She would ring to tell them when it was safe.
At the garden gate, she looked behind her and all around, her sharp eyes constantly seeking out possible danger. To her great relief, she could see nothing, save for the white blur of cloaks around the pond, partly obscured by trees. Nobody had spotted them or come after them.
Lou gently opened the gate and stepped through it. She glanced at Jack, hoping that he was ok. She was worried she had allowed him to get into too much of a scrape this time, and without the support of his brother and sister. But he appeared to be ok.
She closed the gate quietly behind them and grabbed Jack’s hand, pulling him onto the moorland path taking them to safety. It was close on 3am now. The moon was waning and its rays weakening but enough natural light remained to see by without the need to risk switching on a torch.
‘We’ve escaped, Jack, we’ve escaped!’ whispered Lou. ‘Come on, let’s run for it, across the moors then right up to the top of Mynytho hill, where we’ll ring the police again and update them. Did you manage to get through to them before?’
‘Yes. They said they would get to the scene as soon as they could but they’re coming from the Caernarvon area and it will take them a while.’
Lou tutted but then she looked at Jack and a smile crossed her lips. He looked exhilarated and rightly so. Their bravery and ingenuity had paid off – so far at least. ‘You’ve done brilliantly,’ she said. ‘We both have – but come on, we need to get clear of this place.’
They ran swiftly across the moors until they reached the slopes of Foel Gron hill. Jack was puffing and panting by now and Lou pulled up to let him get his breath back.
‘Ok slow coach, let’s walk up the hill, shall we?’ said Lou, grinning. She wasn’t out of breath at all but Lou was fitter than Jack. So they strolled at a comfortable pace. Lou kept glancing round at the road and towards Mrs Owen’s house which should just be visible from the top.
When they reached the cairn of stones at the summit, Jack chose himself a flat one and sat down gratefully while Lou took out her mobile and rang the police. They were already on their way, having received Jack’s phone call earlier. Lou told the officer who answered that she and Jack had escaped.
‘The man whom we believe to be a drug dealer remains trapped in the cellar,’ said Lou, matter of factly. ‘I tricked the rest of his gang into thinking he had fallen into the garden pond and when we left they were standing around the water’s edge looking in and seeking to rescue him. This allowed us to escape and also has turned attention away from the house where Mrs Owen is living. She will be upstairs in a distressed state and it’s urgent that police attend quickly, in case the gang realise that Idwal is inside after all and break in to rescue him.’
‘Thank you Miss Elliott,’ said the officer. ‘We have a car and two vans en route to the location. Where are you currently?’
‘We are on top of the hill above Mynytho, where we are planning to stay for now. We don’t feel it’s safe to cycle back to Abersoch as there’s a risk Idwal’s gang will drive back that way if they leave before you get there. I have left the key to the back door under the mat, I’m sorry it’s such a bad hiding place but I wanted to make sure you could find
it quickly. You’ll need that to get in as Mrs Owen will be too frightened to go downstairs and open the door.’
While Lou was talking, Jack had climbed onto the concrete pillar marking the summit. He stood on top, looking out at the neat lines of twinkling lights running along the coast on the far side of the bay.
‘Can I join you?’ said Lou, as she pushed her phone safely back into her pocket. She glanced at her watch, it was already a quarter past three. Lou clambered up and stood alongside Jack.
‘I told you it was a wonderful spectacle at night, didn’t I?’ said Lou. ‘Look at the lights twinkling right the way along the coast as far as the eye can see. ‘That’s Harlech straight ahead and then, do you see the faint line of lights to the right? That’s Aberystwyth on the coast of West Wales.’
The thousands of tiny lights in the heavens were more impressive still. With the moon sinking, the stars were now out in force. Jack and Lou jumped from the pillar and alighted on a clump of soft, springy heather. They lay down in it and gazed upwards at the Plough, the Pole Star and the glittering Milky Way.
‘It is so astonishingly beautiful, don’t you think?’ said Lou, softly, as she reclined. ‘Do you remember the two of us star-gazing that evening in Staffordshire during our hunt for the missing Anglo-Saxon treasure?’
Jack nodded. ‘I remember what we said as well, how lucky we were to live in the countryside where the stars can be seen properly. But I have never seen them so awesomely bright as tonight.’
‘You’re right,’ agreed Lou. ‘Here it is truly remote, we’re very close to a huge expanse of empty ocean as well, remember, so the starlight’s only real competition is the moon and now that the moon is waning, countless constellations are lighting up the whole sky.’
Lou suddenly remembered the bar of chocolate in her rucksack. She fetched it out and broke it in two, giving half to Jack. The pair of them fell silent, nibbling their chocolate. They gasped when a shooting star zipped across the sky at astonishing speed. They said nothing. They were content, as good friends often are, to allow conversation to flag. In any case, they had to listen out for the sound of police vehicles. High up, they were in a place where noise of the slightest vehicle movement would carry for many miles.
Then it came, the faint but distinct chug chug of a diesel engine. Lou jumped instantly to her feet and stared down towards Abersoch. From that direction she could see nothing. She swung round the other way and, to her dismay, she saw the headlights of a van pulling out onto the lane about a quarter of a mile beyond Mynytho and heading towards them.
‘Oh no, look! I bet that’s Idwal’s gang. They’re driving away – they’ll escape!’ exclaimed Lou. ‘Why is it taking the police so long?’
‘Look over there!’ gasped Jack, pointing towards Abersoch. ‘Headlights coming the other way. That could well be the police! But they won’t know it’s the ghosts and they’ll just pass each other in the road, going in opposite directions.’
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Lou added. ‘Back in a minute.’
She bolted from Jack down the hill and along the lane. He watched her rapid, sure-footed descent open-mouthed. Instantly he felt vulnerable and alone without her but there was nothing to do but stay put and wait.