Janet shook her head. ‘No, I’ve just come from there. The buggy’s empty.’
‘He was still fast asleep, so I left him. He was strapped in. There was no danger. It was only for a minute.’ Lyn burst into tears again. ‘Oh God!’ She wiped her face with her sleeve. ‘Tom ran away and hid and I heard noises up there in the attic. Giggling. Running about. It was Tom. It had to be, so I ran up to find him. He’s not allowed to play up there on his own, and anyway I wanted to get lunch.’ She sniffed. ‘I looked everywhere for him. I could hear him. He was hiding somewhere up there. When I was in that far attic the door banged and I heard the key turn then there was complete silence. I begged him. I promised him all sorts of things if he would open it, but there was total silence. No more running about, no more giggles. I knelt down to look through the key hole at once – did you see how big it was – I could see the whole attic. He wasn’t there, Janet. Nowhere. And there was no chair. I’d have heard if he’d dragged a chair across the floor. He’s only a little boy. He couldn’t have lifted it by himself.’
Janet put her arm round her shoulders. ‘Try and keep calm, Lyn. We’ve got to work this out. We must search the house again, carefully. You know how children love hiding. Tom has probably hidden himself somewhere and he’s having a good laugh.’
‘With Ned?’ It was a whisper.
Janet shrugged. ‘I expect he’s tucked Ned up somewhere and left him; he’s too young to play with properly.’ Her voice died away. After a second’s silence she went on. ‘We know he’s not in the attic. Let’s search this floor then we’ll go on down. We must be systematic.’
They were. They searched each room in turn, looking under beds, behind curtains and in cupboards, then, certain neither child was there they went down to the study.
‘No sign.’ Janet had even looked in the drawers of the desk.
‘The cellar,’ Lyn whispered. ‘We must check the cellar.’
The door was locked and there was no sign of the key.
‘They can’t be down there.’ Janet was eyeing the door dubiously.
‘They might be. I’ll fetch the key.’ Lyn disappeared for a moment and then reappeared with it in her hand. She inserted it into the lock with a shaking hand and pushed open the door.
The cellar was in darkness. ‘There’s no one here.’ Janet’s voice echoed slightly as she reached past Lyn and switched on the lights. ‘It doesn’t look as if anyone has been here for weeks. Do you want us to go down to look?’
Lyn nodded. ‘We have to look everywhere.’ She was feeling very sick.
‘OK.’ After a moment’s hesitation Janet led the way down the steps.
At the bottom they both stopped and listened. ‘He’s not down here,’ Lyn whispered. ‘He can’t be.’
‘We’d better look properly.’ Janet was feeling distinctly uneasy. ‘Where is his favourite hiding place? Does he have one?’
‘He does seem to like the attic. I’ve never known him come down here. But he’s not allowed to. It’s always kept locked and the key was where it’s supposed to be – so how could he be down here?’
Janet shrugged. ‘We had to check. After what happened to Edgar.’
Lyn stared at her. ‘But that was a heart attack.’
‘I know. But why was he down here? No one seems to know.’
They stood for a moment looking round then Lyn walked through and stood in the second cellar. There was no sign of anything and nowhere to hide. Closing her eyes with a deep sigh of relief she turned. ‘We’d better go on looking upstairs.’
The great hall, dining room, morning room, passages, pantries and sculleries behind the kitchen – each one was subjected to a careful and thorough search. When they were once more in the kitchen Janet reached for her jacket. ‘Come on. We’re going to have to look outside. I wonder if Jim is back yet. He can give us a hand.’
But the courtyard was empty, the garages and coach houses all padlocked. ‘At least we know they can’t be there.’ Lyn rattled one of the locks. She was feeling more and more afraid.
The gardens were bleak, the November light failing as they let themselves through the gate onto the lawn. ‘We’ve got to check the lake.’ Lyn’s hands were shaking. ‘Oh, Janet, why? What was Tom thinking of?’ Suddenly she was crying again.
‘We don’t know anything’s wrong.’ Janet gave her a quick hug. ‘Come on. It’s a childish prank, that’s all. I’m sure they’re perfectly safe.’ Her voice lacked conviction.
Walking down the lawn towards the still water of the lake both women were silent. After a few steps Lyn broke into a run. On the bank she stared round, scanning the reeds and lilies. A moorhen broke cover near her and paddled furiously towards the far bank with a sharp cry of distress and a heron, which had been feeding on the island in the centre of the water lumbered awkwardly into the air croaking with indignation.
‘I can’t see anything.’ Lyn dashed the tears out of her eyes as Janet caught up with her, panting.
‘Nor can I. You go that way and I’ll go this way. I’ll meet you round the other side. That way we can be sure.’ She squeezed Lyn’s arm and set off, her shoes squelching in the damp muddy grass. The air felt very cold and she shivered as she hurried on, her eyes scanning the water, dreading the thought that she might actually see something there, but the lake and its surroundings were empty of any signs of the small boy or the baby. When she caught up with Lyn she was smiling. ‘Thank God they’re not here. I couldn’t have borne it. Where else can we look?’
Lyn stared round desperately. ‘Tom’s only little. He can’t have got far. Not on his own.’ She bit her lip. ‘You don’t think – you don’t think they’ve been taken away?’
‘Who on earth by?’ Janet shook her head. ‘They were in the house. You’d have known if there was someone else there.’