The Reservoir

The Reservoir

Margaret began to feel fear rising in her throat as she drove in the dark. Where the hell was she? “Oh my god, what’s that?” she thought. Peering over the driving wheel, she realised it was a vast body of water that had appeared suddenly out of nowhere. Her car’s main beam caught sight of a small country lane to her right and, turning the car wheel, began to ascend rapidly. As she neared the summit, putting her foot on the brake, she scrabbled around on the passenger seat and located the discarded map. Leaving the headlights switched on, she walked to the front of the car and, staring at the map, tried to find her location.

She heard a car in the eerie stillness of the dark, far below. It was slowly making its way along the road next to the body of water. Considering it was pitch black and not a main road, she was surprised that the car was not displaying lights. As she scrunched her face to aid her vision, she could eventually see that the car’s side lights were displayed. The vehicle drove slowly and carefully along the road until it disappeared under the overhanging trees, and she could no longer see or hear it.

Standing alone in the creepy murkiness, unsure where she was, she shivered in the dark, damp blackness. Jumping back in the car, ensuring her doors were locked, she continued up the lane. After a mile, her lights picked out the outlines of two men carrying torches. They wore high-visibility orange safety coats, each jacket labelled “Warden.” Feeling relieved that she was no longer alone, she stopped the car, wound down the window, and poked her head out, asked, “Hi, I wonder if you can help me?”.

One of the men walking towards her asked, “What on earth are you doing up here in the dark?”

“I think I’m lost. I’m trying to get to Ambrose - is it far from here?”

“Ah, you took the wrong left turn and ended up at the Reservoir.”

The two men told her to continue along the lane and take the first and the second right. Ambrose was only a mile or two up the road. They all gave each other a cheery wave and feeling more confident, she set off to find Ambrose. As her heartbeat began to return to normal, she thought, “That reservoir gave me the fright of my life. I’m lucky I didn’t drive straight into it in the pitch black.”

As she followed the Warden’s directions, it didn’t take long before she saw the sign “Ambrose.” Arriving safely at her destination, she began unpacking her car. She wondered if she should have told the Wardens about the other car at the reservoir - the car driving with only sidelights.

********************

Margaret was a 35-year-old woman who made her living as a writer. In her mid-20s, she’d had her first story published, which brought in enough income for her to give up her office job and become a full-time writer. All had gone well for several years until this particular year. She was attempting a romance which had started well, but the storyline had suddenly dried up. Instead of enjoying herself, she had begun to find writing a chore. She confessed her difficulties to a close friend who suggested a change of air. “Go somewhere you don’t know but appeals to you. Plan to write in the morning and then in the afternoon go out for a walk or go to the shops. Find people to talk to”. Hence Ambrose. She’d found a lovely cottage for rent that she could easily afford for two months. The cottage was in a small, bustling town below a towering peak within the Lake District.

********************

After a few days, Margaret had settled in well. She was still struggling with her writing but had gone exploring each afternoon and was warmly welcomed by the locals. Looking at the posters hanging in shop windows, she could see that Ambrose was buzzing with all kinds of activities: cooking, wine-tasting, travel, reading, singing, writing, dancing, and yoga - all were welcome. Many activities appealed to Margaret; she knew she would have to pace herself or that novel would never be written. Going into one of the lovely cafes, the curtains, rugs, and pottery all decorated in pretty blues, she had been approached by several ladies and invited to various activities. She soon developed some close acquaintances and began feeling she had lived in Ambrose for far longer than the short while she’d been there. One afternoon, she was having coffee with Karen, a retired teacher who’d lived in Ambrose for years, when two local policemen strolled in to buy a takeaway coffee.

.

Karen smiled at one of the policemen and said, “Hi Barry, any news on Doug and Joyce?”

“Not really,” said Barry. “Their son Roger says they’ve taken a break and gone to London to visit friends.”

Karen looked doubtful and said, “Strange. Joyce was supposed to run the raffle last Tuesday and didn’t turn up……. Did Roger look worried about them?”

“No”, said Barry, laughing. “He thinks we’re foolish to have called. As he said, “They’re allowed to go on holiday, aren’t they?” He’s got a point.”

“OK. I assume Roger will keep you informed?” said Karen. Barry shrugged.

Karen turned to Margaret, saying, “Have you heard about our mystery?”

Sipping her coffee, Margaret said, “No, tell me about it.”

Karen pulls her chair towards Margaret, lowers her voice, and tells Margaret what has set Ambrose ablaze regarding Doug and Joyce.

The retired married couple, in their late 60s, moved to Ambrose about seven years ago. Eventually, they were joined by their son (possibly in his mid-30s), Roger, who continues to live with them. Doug and Joyce are considered absolute powerhouses within Ambrose, and both are heavily involved in various charities and volunteer organisations. 

“I don’t know if you’ve seen all the events posted in the various windows around Ambrose. We have far more organised events since the Manfields moved here,” Karen said appreciatively.

Joyce is very popular and has made many friends. Her equally popular husband, Doug, likes to go to the pub most evenings for a pint. He is a lively, enthusiastic man with ideas and is a positive, fun character. 

“It seems inconceivable for Doug and Joyce to suddenly go on holiday without telling anyone. It’s made the community realise how vital that couple are to Ambrose.” 

“Have you tried tracking them down? Have you asked the son?” asked Margaret.

“Various neighbours have called on Roger, trying to find out when the parents will return. Disappointingly, Roger has been unable to provide the neighbours with much information. So William, the Chairman of Ambrose Events, reported their absence to the police, who have recently started investigating the couple's disappearance.“

“Surely you don’t think something has happened to them, do you?” asked Margaret to her new coffee friend.

“Well, I am worried”, said Karen. “Joyce was supposed to help me set up the wine-tasting evening on 14th July, and I’ve heard nothing from her. This is so strange and just not like her. She’s already missed the Cancer Research Raffle Night that she organises. She is usually so reliable. Doug is on the Treasure Hunt Committee, which raises money for the local hospital. The Committee says they’ve heard nothing from him.”

“Well, doesn’t the son say they’ve gone for a break to London? Perhaps they just forgot everything when they left for their holiday,” Margaret suggested.

“And not said goodbye to any of us? Not cancelled any of their commitments? No, it’s not like them”.

******************************

After coffee, the friends bid each other farewell, and Margaret, intrigued by Joyce and Doug's disappearance, walked down Main Street and began browsing in the pretty shop windows. Looking closer at some of the posters, she sees some clearly labelled ‘Ring Mrs Joyce Manfield (027-5678) if interested’. The events were many and varied. Yes, Joyce was obviously a valued member of the community.

She turned from the shop window and saw, out of the corner of her eye, an attractive man in an orange jacket marked “Warden.”

Walking up to him, Margaret says: “Hello,” and smiles at him. “Do you remember me? I met you at the Reservoir a few nights ago. I’d got lost, and you and your workmate helped me find my way to Ambrose. Thank you so much.”

“Oh, I do remember you. I’m Jeff.” he smiled, holding his hand out.

“I’m Margaret”, she said, smiling at him.

They continued chatting, and he explained that he and Kevin, the other Warden, patrolled the lake at night to ensure no one was locked in before the Water Board men arrived to close off the roads.

“Did you locate the other car?” Margaret asked.

“What other car?” asks Jeff, puzzled.

“The car with no headlamps on?”

*********************

Margaret’s cottage is warm, welcoming and cosy. Its interior design is a ‘country cottage’, mainly blues and pinks. The curtains are thick and expensive. Overall, it is a charming place to stay. At the back is a garden, primarily lawned, with tall hedges separating her and her neighbours. At the front is a small box garden with flowers and a white-painted gate. 

Margaret begins to prepare her cosy evening at home while her shepherd’s pie finishes baking in a hot oven. Just as she enters the sitting room to pull the curtains, she sees two uniformed policemen opening the gate. Catching sight of her, they wave cheerily to her. Margaret, curious, opens the door and invites them in.

“Margaret Allen?” asks the policeman called Barry.

She nods and invites them to sit.

“Could you tell us about your night at the Reservoir?”

“Ah, is this Jeff the Warden telling you about it?”

“Yes, but we’d like you to tell us what happened.”

Margaret explains to the Police that she had driven up from London and got lost when she left the Motorway to find Ambrose. 

“I was on the A5560, and the map showed a road leading left directly into Ambrose. Unfortunately, I took a country lane, which took me directly to the reservoir. I had the fright of my life. It was pitch black, and there were no lights, and I nearly drove straight into the water.”

“What time was it Margaret?”, asked Barry

“About 10 o’clock”, she said. “I think the Wardens will be able to confirm the time. I couldn’t wait to get away from the water. I took a road leading away from the reservoir as soon as I saw it. 

“When did you see the other car, Margaret?”

“A few minutes later. I drove up the road but needed to stop to look at my map. I got out of the car to use the headlights, and far below, I heard a car on the reservoir road. I thought it strange that the car only used its sidelights because it was so dark. As I watched, the car disappeared, and I couldn’t even hear its engine any more.”

“So no lights and no engine sound”.

“Yes, that's correct. I jumped back into my car and drove towards the main road again, where I met Jeff and his work colleague, who kindly gave me directions for Ambrose.”

‘Would you be willing to return to the reservoir with us and show us exactly where you saw the car?”

“Oh gosh, do you think that car was up to no good? I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Yes, I am happy to help.”

*****************************************

The following day Margaret was driven to the reservoir, and Jeff met them there. He would show the Police where he’d first met Margaret on the country lane and then help identify where the mystery car had disappeared.

“It’s very wooded down by that area, " said Jeff, “plus there had been hefty rainfall for a few days before. That area will be very muddy, making a car engine difficult to hear.”

“Thanks, Jeff. The forensics team are already on standby”, said Barry.

Jeff and Margaret set off in a police car. When they reached the bottom of the hill Margaret had ascended that night, they were asked to remain seated in the car to keep warm and let the police teams start their search. The reservoir road Margaret had turned off that night was overhung with trees and branches, and the overgrowth cast a gloomy shadow over the road even in the daytime. 

From the back of a warm police car, Margaret watched the activity as more police cars turned up. Yellow and black crime tape was strung across the road, and a policeman was left standing on guard. The police dog handler van turned up, and two excited police dogs were firmly held by their handlers. The barking dogs followed the route the other police and forensic teams had taken. A relatively short while later, excited, loud barking from the police dogs could be heard.

Barry returned to the parked police car. “Margaret, a section of disturbed earth has been found, and the dogs are going mad. It looks like something has been found. So it would be best to take you out of this area and go home. Jeff, can you take her home?”

Jeff and Margaret walked past the numerous police cars that had arrived. They heard a crackling message coming through as they reached Jeff’s car. Margaret looks at Jeff enquiringly:

“What did that message say?” she asks him.

“It said: “Forensics needed. Two bodies have been found.”

*******************

Margaret and Jeff were driving back to town when a loud police siren could be heard behind them. Jeff pulled over, and two police cars passed Jeff's car, going hell for leather, flashing blue lights, and clinging to the curves in the road.

“I’m assuming they’re going to Roger’s,” said Jeff. “In such a small community, I should think everyone will know the outcome soon.”

'Surely a son wouldn’t murder his parents!”

“Well, this isn’t the first time children have murdered their parents, and unfortunately, it won’t be the last. Let’s get you home. Warm, sweet tea, I think. I’ll get Karen to come and sit with you.”

**************************

As a policeman leads Roger away, another team of forensic scientists arrive. One team is already on hands and knees alongside the car, scraping and collecting the mud from the wheel arches, and another is taking casts from the tyre treads. The rest of the forensic team enters the house and starts a meticulous search. Later that day, Roger, the son, is charged with the murder of his parents, Doug and Joyce Manfield. 

**********************

A shocked Ambrose received the dreadful news. As the story slowly unfolded, it turned out that Roger had lost large sums of money through his gambling problem. On the night he killed his parents, he had asked them to help him with his gambling debts. The parents felt they had already given large sums of money to Roger in the past, and they refused to give him any more. He had attacked and killed his mother in the bedroom and had then come downstairs to his unsuspecting father and killed him in the sitting room. Roger had placed both bodies in the boot of the car and then driven to the reservoir where he had buried them. Margaret was still shocked that it was only by chance that she had not been on the same dark, lonely road as Roger and his dead parents. 

Margaret was thanked profusely for her helpful information. Ambrose agreed that she was lucky to get lost that evening and notice Roger on his journey to bury the bodies. Both reservoir wardens felt it was unlikely that the bodies would ever have been found. 

Roger was given a life sentence and is still in a maximum-security prison.

*************

Margaret has extended her six-month cottage rental. She loves the friendship and warmth her neighbours and friends offer. Jeff and Margaret now see each other regularly, and Margaret is just amazed at how her new life has evolved.

One evening, in the cosiness of her country sitting room, she takes out her laptop and carefully files away her half-finished romantic novel. She knows she might not finish it soon but will finish writing it eventually. Instead, she starts a new story. Her fingers flash across the keyboard, fighting to keep up with her brain output. This latest story is a murder mystery about a couple disappearing in a lovely, quiet place called Ambrose.