Free Maestro by Samantha van Dalen

feet. The trees were clustered together, their sturdy trunks upright, though gnarled with age. The biggest of them all was the walnut tree. The base of its trunk raised above the ground as if the roots had pushed the earth away, wanting to grow up towards the sky. The earth had resisted and what was left of the wayward roots made the tree trunk look as if it had collapsed on itself. Three ridge-like structures protruded out of it, each providing a space wide enough to sit on. 
    The rain of that morning had turned the bare earth into mud. Sara ran her hand along the bark of the walnut tree. It was rough, cracking in parts towards the base of the trunk. The higher her hand went, the smoother the bark became. Her feet sinking into the squidgy mud, she caressed the old bark with her hands.  
    "Old tree, old tree, what secrets do you possess?" 
    Her hand stopped. The bark felt perfectly smooth, like a shiny, varnished tabletop. But the tips of her fingers felt something else. Something that went against the grain, against the nature of the bark. 
    She climbed onto the protruding base of the trunk and saw it right away. 
    Etched into the bark of the tree, she read:  SARA LUNN 12.3.68 
    Sara's first thought was that Sarah Lunn had been very tall. Or she had balanced precariously, a sharp instrument in one hand. It also struck her that it was a childish thing to do. She half expected to see SARA LOVES G. up there too but was relieved not to. 
    She almost fell over when she realised the full extent of what she had just seen. 12.3.68 was the day Sarah Lunn had disappeared.
     
     

Chapter Nine. 
    Sara bolted into the kitchen. Oblivious of her muddy feet, she ran through the cottage searching for her notepad. Her notes from the article in the Goldarn Voice confirmed the date. 12.03.68 was the day Sarah disappeared. The newspaper had reported her missing on the 14th, two days later. 
    The engraved date in the tree proved that Sarah had been at Downswold on the very day she had vanished into thin air. She must have been bored, waiting for someone maybe and had passed the time, dawdling aimlessly away. 
    But do young girls walk around with knives in their pockets. Very sharp knives, with long pointed tips? Unless, it was something that Sarah had found lying in the cottage. Which meant that she had free rein, not just to collect apples but into the cottage as well. 
    Sara sat down facing the cellar door. She lit a cigarette. 
    She knew intuitively, the sensation which defies reason or logic, that something in that cellar would lead her to Sarah Lunn.  
    She would have to go to Goldarn and buy herself a torch, powerful enough to explore the cellar. She couldn't rely on the flickering light globe to show her the way. 
    Tomorrow. First thing, tomorrow. 
    A knock sounded at the front door, forcing her to abandon thoughts of both past and future. 
    She opened the door to find Gillane standing there. 
    "Hello," he said looking down at Sarah's bare feet. "Am I disturbing you?" 
    "No..er..yes. I was just going to take a bath." 
    "I won't keep you. I wanted to invite you for dinner at the house tonight. To thank you for driving me home, bleeding head and all."  
    The word "bleeding" ran a chill up Sara's spine. 
    "It’s very kind of you. But really not necessary." she replied starchily. 
    Gillane was having none of it.  
    "I insist. It’s the least I can do. Shall we say 7.30?" 
    Sara resigned herself to his wishes. 
    "As you wish. See you then." 
    *********************** 
    Sara took a long bath, a contemplative soak to prepare for dinner with Gillane. 
    He had a way of popping up when least expected. And when he did, he was impossible to ignore: the towering athletic body, the black piercing eyes. 
    An invitation to his house for dinner seemed odd coming from a man who hardly ever spoke. 
    Their previous encounters had been uncomfortable. Sara had come away from them, relieved that they were over. Gillane's