Then Wogan finished, and a quiz-show came on. Four people were meant to guess the value of various bits of antique junk which were set before them. Violet, all on her own, joined in the guessing game, and became certain that her assessments were far more accurate than anybody else's. She was beginning to enjoy herself when the telephone rang.
How tiresome. Why did the wretched thing always ring at the least opportune moment? She set down her glass, heaved herself out of her comfortable chair, turned down the television, and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Aird?"
"Yes."
"This is Dr. Martin. From the Relkirk Royal."
"Oh, yes."
"Mrs. Aird, I'm afraid we have a little trouble on our hands. Miss Carstairs has disappeared."
"She's disappeared?" It sounded like some sort of a dreadful conjuring trick, bringing visions of an explosion, a puff of smoke, and Lottie fading into nothing. "How could she possibly have disappeared?"
"She's gone. She went out of doors for a walk in the garden with another patient. She never returned."
"But that's perfectly terrible."
"We think she must have simply walked out through the gates. We've alerted the police, of course, and I'm certain that she cannot be far away. She'll probably come back here of her own accord. She's been quite content, responding to treatment, and not troublesome in any sort of way. There is no reason why she shouldn't return. But I felt I should let you know…"
Violet thought that he was being very feeble.
"Surely you should have taken more care of her?"
"Mrs. Aird, we are overcrowded here and understaffed. Under the circumstances, we do the best we can, but ambulant patients, whom we consider able, up to a point, to take care of themselves, have always been allowed a certain amount of freedom."
"So what do we do now?"
"There is nothing to be done. But, as 1 said, I thought you should know what has happened."
"Have you spoken to Miss Findhorn, her next of kin?"
"Not yet. I thought it better to have a word with you first."
"In that case, I shall tell Miss Findhorn."
"I'd be very grateful if you would."
"Dr. Martin…" Violet hesitated. "Do you think that Lottie Carstairs will try to make her way back to Strathcroy?"
"It's possible, of course."
"She would go to Miss Findhorn's house?"
"Possibly."
"I shall be honest with you. I don't like the prospect at all. I fear for Miss Findhorn."
"I appreciate your fears but consider them groundless."
"I wish," Violet told him drily, "that I could be so certain, but thank you, Dr. Martin, for calling."
"If I have any news, I'll ring you."
"I shan't be here. But you will be able to reach me at Croy, because I shall be dining with Lord Balmerino."
"I'll make a note. Thank you. Goodbye, Mrs. Aird. And I'm sorry to have bothered you."
"Yes," said Violet. "You have bothered me. Goodbye."
And she was more than bothered. All peace of mind had been shot to ribbons. She was not only bothered but filled with fear. The same reasonless panic she had experienced sitting by the river with Lottie that day in Relkirk, and with Lottie's fingers clenched, viselike, around her wrist. Then, she had been tempted to leap to her feet and run. Now, she felt the same way, her heart pounding in her chest. It was the fear of the unknown, the unimaginable, some lurking danger.
Analyzed, she realized that this fear was not for herself, but for Edie. Her imagination leaped ahead. A knock on Edie's cottage door, Edie going to answer it, and Lottie, with her hands outstretched like claws, leaping upon her…
It didn't bear thinking about. On the television screen, a woman, presented with a flowered chamber-pot, dissolved into silent, embarrassed laughter, her mouth open, her hand over her eyes. Violet turned her off, picked up the receiver, and dialled Balnaid. Edmund must be back from New York by now. Edmund would know exactly what to do.
She heard the ringing sound. It continued to ring. She waited, became impatient. Why did none of them answer her call? What were they all doing?
Finally, exasperated, and by now in a state of fluster, she slammed the receiver down, and then picked it up again and dialled Edie.
Edie, too, was watching television. A nice Scottish programme, country dancing, and a comic in a kilt, telling rare stories. She sat with her supper tray on her lap, grilled chicken legs and chips and mushy peas. For afters, there was some left-over Apple Betty in the fridge. This evening, she was eating late. One of the good things about being on her own again was that she could eat when it suited her, without Lottie on at her all the time about when was the next meal coming. There were other good things. Quiet was one of them. And being able to get a good night's rest in her own bed, instead of tossing and turning on the inadequate Put-U-Up. Getting a good night's rest had done more than anything to restore her energy and good spirits. She still felt guilty about poor Lottie, back in the hospital, but there could be no doubt that life was a great deal easier without her.
The telephone rang. She set aside her tray and got up to answer it.
"Yes?"
"Edie."
She smiled. "Hello, Mrs. Aird."
"Edie…" There was something wrong. Edie could tell at once, just by the way Mrs. Aird said her name. "Edie, I've just been speaking to Dr. Martin from the hospital. Lottie's walked out. They don't know where she is."
Edie felt her heart sink into her boots. After a bit she said, "Oh dear, goodness," which was all she could think of to say.
"They've notified the police, and they are pretty certain she's not gone far, but Dr. Martin agrees with me that there is a strong possibility that she'll make her way back to Strathcroy."
"Has she got money with her?" asked Edie, ever practical.
"I don't know. I hadn't thought about that. But I'm certain that she wouldn't have gone far without her handbag."
"No. That's true enough." Lottie was devoted to her handbag, and kept it by her side even when she was just sitting by the fire. "Poor soul. Something must have upset her."
"Yes. Maybe. But, Edie, I'm concerned for you. If she does come back to Strathcroy, I don't want you to be alone in your house."
"But I must be here. If she comes, I must be here."
"No. No, Edie, listen. You must listen. You must be sensible. We don't know what is going on in Lottie's mind. She may have got it into her head that you have let her down in some way. Done her some hurt, rejected her. If she is in one of her states, you cannot possibly deal with her on your own."
"And what harm could she do to me?"
"I don't know. I only know that you must get out of your house.. come to me for the night, or go to Balnaid until such time as she has been located and is safely back in hospital."
"But…"
Her protest was overridden. "No, Edie. I will not take no for an answer, otherwise I shall not have a moment's peace. You must pack a night-dress and go to Balnaid. Or come here. I don't mind which. And if you don't agree, then I shall be forced to get into my car and come and fetch you myself. And as I have to be at Croy at half past eight, and am not yet bathed nor dressed, this will be extremely inconvenient for me. It's up to you."
Edie hesitated. The last thing she, wanted was to cause a lot of inconvenience. Besides, she knew of old that Violet, once she had set her mind, was immovable. And yet…
"I should stay here, Mrs. Aird. I'm her next of kin. She's my responsibility."
"You are also responsible to yourself. If you were to be distressed or threatened or hurt in any way, I should never forgive myself."
"And what will happen if she does come and finds the house empty?"
"The police have been alerted. I am certain that a patrol car will be around the place. It won't be difficult for them to pick her up."
Edie could think of no more arguments. She was defeated, her fate sealed. She sighed, and said quite crossly, "Oh, very well. But in my opinion, you're making a mountain out of a molehill."