PART 1 of our new story

A winter break takes a sinister turn for Fiona, Duncan and their dog, Charlie

Duncan asked: “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Fiona consulted her notes. “It says follow the road for two miles…” “I wouldn’t call this a road. More like a track. Please tell me it’s one way.” “I don’t think so. There are passing places.” Her husband grunted. Fiona said: “It says here that the sea views are stunning.” “Assuming we arrive in one piece, I’m sure it will be wonderful.” “There are only two holiday properties down here so we’d have to be very unlucky to meet anyone coming the other way.” “I really wish you hadn’t said that.” Grinning, Fiona began to read aloud. “The 16th Century fisherman’s cottage has two double bedrooms, an en suite, lounge with wood-burning stove and a country-style kitchen. Outside there’s a walled garden with patio furniture. Facing directly on to the beach, the property enjoys…” “Panoramic views,” Duncan finished her sentence for her as he eased the car to a halt. “The brochure might have taken artistic licence describing the track as a road, but there’s no faulting that view.” Fiona looked up. Ahead of her was a curve of golden sand and beyond that a wide expanse of blue sea that sparkled in the late January sunshine. “What’s this place called again?” “Moon Cove.” She patted Duncan’s leg. “This is just what we need.” “If you say so, love. Personally, I’d have been happy at home with a weekend of no visitors and footy on the telly.” Sighing, Fiona got out of the car and opened the rear door. “Time to spend a penny, Charlie.” Their Labrador woofed appreciatively as she unclipped his travel belt. “You’ve had your legs crossed since Exeter, haven’t you, old boy?” Charlie licked her hand. “I thought we were only here for four days,” Duncan said as he carried in the last of the bags. “I feel like a Sherpa setting up base camp.” Laughing, Fiona filled the kettle. “Wine, chocolate AND roses?” Duncan raised an eyebrow as he inspected the welcome basket. “It’s not even Valentine’s Day yet.” “Who says romance is limited to one day a year?” He pulled a face. “Romance? We’re a bit old for that, aren’t we?” “Are we?” Fiona tried to mask her disappointment. “Everything we need for a fry-up,” Duncan said with more enthusiasm. He picked up the wine. “Didn’t know they had vineyards in Cornwall. This is quite a welcome basket. How much did you say we’re paying for this winter break?” “I didn’t,” Fiona replied with a smile. “That much, eh?” They turned as a pleasant-looking woman in her 40s knocked on the open door. “Hello. I’m Mrs Penhallow. I saw you drive by at the top of the lane. And who’s this handsome fellow?” “I’m Duncan.” “That’s Charlie,” Fiona said, nudging her husband hard in the ribs as Mrs Penhallow bent to make a fuss of the dog. “Lots of good walks around here, Charlie,” Mrs Penhallow smiled. “What’s the WiFi like?” Duncan asked.

“We’re in a black spot here.” “No WiFi?” “I’m afraid not. We do make that clear in the information pack.” “Not to worry!” Fiona said briskly as Duncan, frowning, drew out his mobile. “No signal,” he said, with a hint of despair. “You won’t get one until you’re back on the main road.” “Was that also in the information pack?” “Yes, I make sure everyone knows. Not a problem, is it?” Mrs Penhallow looked concerned. “No. We’re old enough to remember life before mobiles and computers,” Fiona reassured her. “Only just!” Duncan added. “You do have a landline. And a neighbour – Mr Gregory. He’s studying the local birdlife. I’ll leave you to settle in. If you need anything, call me. Enjoy your stay.” “I’m sure we will, thank you.” Fiona put her arm around her husband’s waist. “Why don’t you light the fire while I cook us an early supper? I’ve got a couple of nice steaks and we can give that Cornish wine a try.” Supper was every bit as good as Fiona had hoped and the wine was a revelation. Afterwards, as she sat beside Duncan, watching the flames lick around the logs in the wood burner while Charlie snored gently at their feet, she sighed contentedly. “I could get used to this.” Duncan nodded. “Between looking after the grandchildren and my part-time work at the school, I don’t have the time or the energy for much else. And you’re always flat out with the business.” “We should carve out more time for us,” Duncan conceded. “When I suggested having date nights you laughed at me,” Fiona reminded him. “Well, it always takes me a while to come round to your ideas, you know that. Are you ready to turn in?” “I’ll just let Charlie out.” As Charlie loped off up the garden, Fiona stood in awe, admiring the brilliant starlit sky. She was about to call Duncan to share its beauty when her attention was drawn to the neighbouring cottage. The top half of the stable door was open and raised voices carried to her on the breeze. “How long are they here for?” “Three more days.” “You said we’d have the place to ourselves. The last thing we need is nosy neighbours.” Fiona moved closer. “How was I to know Mrs Penhallow would let it? She told me the season starts after Easter. Maybe we should cancel.” Seeing movement in the kitchen, Fiona instinctively shrank back into the darkness of the hedge between the cottages. The voices were louder now as both men were standing outside. “We can’t cancel. Everything is in place. We’re ready to go.” Fiona felt Charlie brush against her leg and prayed that he wouldn’t bark or somehow call attention to himself. “Did you hear something?” one of the men asked. Crouching down behind the hedge, Fiona hardly dared to breathe. “Calm down. It was probably a fox.” “So what are we going to do about this couple next door?” “There’s not much we can do. The package has to leave at midnight tomorrow, whatever happens. Let’s hope your new neighbours are the early-to-bed type.” The two men moved away out of earshot and, as quietly as possible, Fiona ushered Charlie back into the welcoming warmth of their cottage. In the next issue, out on February 13, learn what happens when Fiona and Duncan come face-to-face with the mysterious Mr Gregory É