The Cryptid Files (9 page)

On 27 July 1973, five people outside the Foyers Hotel watched something move quickly across the loch. One witness, Mr E. Moran from Yorkshire, said, ‘although I was a sceptic before now, I don't mind what anyone else thinks – I am convinced that I have seen a creature of some kind in Loch Ness'.

Alan and Luke decided that they would go into the village with Lee to ask about Vanessa, while Maggie and Ronan stayed at the cottage in case she turned up. Alan tried hard to stay focused on the most likely possibilities and the relief he would feel when she sauntered up to him without even realising that she had caused such worry. He pleaded with Marie in his head, begged her to help him. He couldn't lose Vanessa too.

He pictured her face, her playful smile and tousled hair that gave her such a careless appearance and belied her sharp, inquisitive mind. He had to admit that this wasn't like Vanessa at all.

They talked to everyone in the village, from the lock keeper to Mrs MacNab and her daughters who worked in the grocery store, but there had been no sightings of Vanessa at all in the village that afternoon. Alan felt his heart begin to thump hard in his chest.

‘What now? Luke's question was almost inaudible.

It was really dark now, and getting cold as they made their way back, running most of the way to the cottage in the hope of some news there. Alan slowed with a stitch in his side. He was either more unft than he thought or panic was constricting every muscle in his body.

‘Where's the closest police station, Lee?' Alan's voice was dull with pain.

‘I'll call when we get back. It's Graham Maguire in Drumnadrochit we need. Maggie knows him well.'

‘Luke and I will get some torches and walk along the loch edge. Maybe she's fallen somewhere and twisted her ankle in the dark.' His voice grew stronger.

Luke looked at him with a hunted expression. His mouth was in a grim line and he was on the brink of tears.

‘We're going to find her, Luke. I promise you.'

The road back to the cottage stretched before them interminably as they made their way home in silence, each deep in thought, each terrified at the possibilities. They scanned the ditches and hedgerows for any signs – half in dread, half in hope.

None of them saw the small figure run out onto the cottage driveway, but they began to sprint as soon as the shouting started. Someone was waving a torch and screaming up ahead.

‘It's Ronan, Dad,' Luke shouted as he sped ahead of the other two. Within seconds, they were all standing in a bunch on the roadside, Alan on one knee, holding Ronan.

‘Dad.' Ronan's breath heaved in his chest. ‘Dad, the rowing boat's gone. Vanessa has taken the boat out. And she's on her own.'

A model Nessie was made for the film
The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes
. This model was towed around the loch by a submersible to see if it could lure the real Nessie into the open. After the model accidentally sank, it was never seen again.

Vanessa felt more comfortable in the water now than out of it. Between eating the moss she took longer trips deep down into the water, where at last she met a school of fish that swam past her. Her eyes widened in astonishment. Something alive at last.

Arctic char, she shouted in her head. She remembered them from Maggie's description of the fish in the loch. Oh my God, the loch! Loch Ness, of course, and Maggie and her cottage. Her excitement at remembering a few snippets more of her life was intense. She turned around as quickly as she could and tried to swim after the school of char. To her surprise, she was able to keep up with the fish. They seemed entirely uninterested in her and so she swam on just behind them.

Swim down deep enough and you'll find me.

She swam on, although it was increasingly hard to go down, the physical pressure on her body growing with each stroke. Suddenly, she saw the fish turn and dart away.

She was aware now of a large shape glowing at a distance beyond her. Vanessa blinked, trying to make some sense of what she was looking at. A huge object moved slowly towards her.

Don't worry, I won't hurt you.

Vanessa stopped swimming, waiting for the inevitable. As it approached her, the glow grew more intense and the water warmer. She closed her eyes. Maybe she would wake from the dream any second now. But when she opened them again, she found herself face to face with large seal-like eyes, only a couple of inches away from her. She felt their intensity as they searched for something in her own eyes, something beyond her eyes, some connection with her, deep inside. A bubble of excitement seemed to burst inside Vanessa, and she was gripped by a sense of elation like she had never felt before.

The creature was exactly as in the painting, exactly like her dream. Vanessa stared straight into the eyes of the most wonderful cryptid in the world and a huge smile spread across her face. This was no dream. Her chest tightened again and this time Vanessa knew that it was only her ribs stopping her from bursting with happiness.

Put your arms around my neck and I'll show you my loch.

The voice in her head at last made sense to Vanessa. It had been Nessie all the time. She wrapped her arms around Nessie's slim neck, the warmth of her great body a pleasure and a comfort to her.

You're a mammal, you're warm-blooded. I knew it. Vanessa thought and smiled at Nessie.

Just like you
, Nessie said simply.

Startled, Vanessa let go. She hadn't realised that the thought transfer worked both ways.

Better hold on tight.

And with that she moved of at speed, and Vanessa could feel the rhythmic beating of Nessie's fins around her waist, and at her feet the second set of smaller flippers. Nessie was about 10 feet long and yet she moved effortlessly through the water.

It was like being on whaleback, speeding through the sea!

Yes, I remember the sea; at least I think I do. My mother – she's dead now – she used to talk about our home in the sea.

Dead. Dead. A wash of sadness swept through Vanessa, with such intensity that she felt her limbs go weak. Suddenly, she saw her own mother, small and frail, propped up in a bed with white pillows. Her dark hair was spread out like a fan behind her. Not the bouncy black hair that she used to have, but the limp and dull hair at the end.

The sadness was followed by a piercing pain in her chest as she watched the picture of her mother fade in her mind.

Hold me tight, Vanessa
.

Vanessa did as Nessie said and, as they swam, she felt the pain ebb slowly away. The warmth of Nessie's body soothed her. They seemed to swim for an age in silence. The rhythm and the flow of the water over her body calmed Vanessa.

They must have gone quite deep before Vanessa noticed a shape looming ahead.

Look, Nessie. What's that?

Oh, that boat sank a long time ago. Want to see?

They swam alongside the boat and Vanessa looked in through the windows. It was a beautiful motorboat, long and elegant. The wood inside seemed to gleam as if it had just recently been polished. It was beautifully preserved.

There have been so many boats across my loch – parties; tourists; people looking for me, I think. There are huge eels, though, and people don't like that.

No, I wouldn't either, thought Vanessa as she looked around nervously.

Only a few have ever come down into my world, but there was a young woman on this boat; I tried to save her. I brought her back to the cave when I found her drowning, but it was no use.

Vanessa felt the huge creature's sadness.

How come I survived? she asked. I didn't drown.

I suppose it was because you believed in me and weren't afraid. Even though I told her – that other poor girl – to eat the green glow, she wouldn't. Maybe she couldn't hear me. She just went to sleep and never woke up.

Vanessa stroked the side of Nessie's neck with her hand. It felt so soft to her touch.

Those that drown are innocent and those that survive the douking are witches … The thought snaked through Vanessa's mind. Who had said it to her? She couldn't recall, yet a faint flicker of recognition made her feel uncomfortable.

Well, go on, finish your story, about the girl.

I brought her body back up as close to the surface as I dared. I couldn't risk being seen. Unfortunately, the divers who were looking for her saw me and they panicked. I have one of their cameras still in one of the caves if you want to see it?

She lifted her head and looked into Vanessa's eyes again.

You believe in me, Vanessa. I'll make everything all right for you, I promise. Now hold on, your glow is fading. I need to get you back to the caves.

Once they were back at the caves, Vanessa climbed out of the water and gathered some more moss to eat.

Tell me about your mother, she asked Nessie. How did she die?

She was sick for a long time. It all began when we came through the gates.

What kind of gates? asked Vanessa. Oh, you mean, lock-gates?

I don't remember. I was chasing some fish, I think, and I followed them through the first gate from the sea. My mother came after me but it was too late. We were forced to keep going through all the gates, and we ended up here, and she'd been hurt.

How? Did she get caught in the gates?

No, we swam under the boats, and when the water got shallow, in the canal, my mother was crushed.

Nessie stopped for a moment.

She never really recovered from that. Since she died, I've been on my own.

My mother died too, said Vanessa faintly.

But you have others don't you?

The thought echoed with clarity in Vanessa's mind, touching something familiar, something important that was hiding in her subconscious.

I heard you call Luke, Ronan and Alan. Who are they?

Vanessa closed her eyes in confusion. She tried hard to make sense of the mass of images that streamed through her head – Ronan laughing and throwing snowballs at her, Luke busy burying her legs in the sand on a beach. And her dad with his arms outstretched as she ran towards him.

You're right; I do have others. I'm not alone. But what about you? Why don't you go back to the sea?

Go back? I couldn't do that. I'd get hurt, killed, just like my mother.

Vanessa began to eat the moss off the walls again. She was comfortable down here with Nessie.

My mother's bones are in the cave above, under the stones that I asked you not to touch.

Vanessa was taken aback.

How on earth did you get them up there?

Lena climbed up with them. She made
…
a grave, she called it.

Vanessa's mind raced. Lena. Lena … Where did she know that name from? She fingered the locket around her neck.

She had just lost her mother too, Nessie explained. That's her mother's picture in the locket. After she'd buried the bones for me I helped her home.

Vanessa felt her mind shutting down. It was too much to take in, bones, lockets, drownings …

You're tired, Vanessa. You should sleep.

In the summer of 1969, the hunt for Nessie was intense. Scientists were using a submarine called Viperfish and a small submersible called Pieces to dive down deep into the loch. They went to 820 feet which was actually deeper than the loch's official maximum depth. At 750 feet they found strange, whirlpool currents and elsewhere the crew noticed fish and eels with ‘unusual colourings'.

The old green rowing boat was too leaky to take out on the loch, so Lee had called Frank Dobson to bring around his speedboat. Maggie's kitchen was full of people, not loud or boisterous this time, but subdued and silent. Constable Graham Maguire from Drumnadrochit had been called and was on his way from Inverness where he had been attending a police conference. He promised he would be there within the hour.

The roar of the speedboat echoed through the kitchen door and brought them all into the garden. Three boats instead of one. The two speedboats came to a sudden halt at the mooring and behind them, at a slow and determined pace, a fishing boat with an outboard engine struggled to keep up.

‘That's Frank's son, Hamish, with the outboard and John Nolan, another neighbour in the other speedboat,' Maggie explained to Alan, as they hurried down the garden to meet them.

‘They have powerful lights on board those speedboats. It's the only way we'll find the rowing boat at this time of night. We will find it, Alan.' Maggie pressed her hand firmly on his forearm as she said it.

Alan was past caring about platitudes and terrified that they would find the boat but not Vanessa. He felt a rush of irritation with Maggie. None of them could know what this torture was like for him. Losing Vanessa would be unbearable. He had to find her.