The Cryptid Files (6 page)

On 26 May 1934, Brother Richard Horan from St Benedictine's Abbey at Fort Augustus had a very clear sighting. He was working near the abbey boathouse when he heard a noise in the water and looked up to find a creature with a long, graceful neck and seal
-
like head staring at him. Three other people watching from different positions also saw the same thing.

Vanessa followed the road down the hill into the village. She could see the two spires of Fort Augustus Abbey ahead. Daisy kept straining on her lead, dragging Vanessa off the road and at one point almost into a ditch. But as Vanessa came up to the metal gate into the abbey grounds, she was glad she had brought her – snooping around was far less suspicious if you had a dog in tow.

She pushed the gate, but it didn't move. She pushed hard again and it rattled loudly. It was then that she noticed a large padlock on the inside. Maggie had said it would be no problem to explore the abbey, but now Vanessa felt unsure. Would she have to climb through the gaps or go over the top? What if there was a cranky caretaker on the other side with a shotgun?

All she could see from the road were the spires; the buildings themselves were hidden by trees. It was frustrating to be this close and not see anything. As she stood there, trying to decide what to do, she felt a prickle creep across her skin along the back of her neck and shoulders. It was a strange, but not an unpleasant sensation. It wasn't fear she felt, more like excitement, and she suddenly felt an extraordinary longing to be inside the abbey.

Daisy must have been feeling something too, because she started to whine and push herself up against Vanessa's legs.

Vanessa put her head against the bars of the gate. They were just wide enough to squeeze her head through. The rest of her body followed easily enough. But Daisy wouldn't follow. Although perfectly able, she simply refused to move.

Vanessa remembered a small bread roll she had in her pocket. She held it out through the bars, just out of reach, and it did the trick. Daisy's greed got her through the gate, but Vanessa realised she was going to have to drag her every inch of the way to the abbey. Unless …

She spotted a garden bench amongst the trees. Just the thing! She tied Daisy to the arm of the bench. She could finish the bread roll in peace, while Vanessa went on. Thank goodness she had picked it up in the kitchen on her way out. It had been intended as emergency rations, something to eat when she got to the abbey.

Vanessa watched enviously as Daisy gulped it down. She herself was starving. She hadn't eaten a pick of the breakfast Maggie brought up to her. Salty porridge followed by sliced fried black pudding and kippers – what a combination! It had been a nightmare getting rid of it all. The porridge had ended up being washed down the sink, the pudding had found its way into Daisy and the kippers into the loch for Nessie.

As she walked on, Vanessa pulled out the small map that Maggie had given her with the markings for the various buildings of the abbey. Straight ahead stood the monastery with its tower looking out over the loch. The cloistered gardens were directly behind it; to the right stood the old church, and on the left the old school with the remains of a clock tower. She heard a bark in the distance. It didn't sound like Daisy, though, and, anyway, it seemed to come from the wrong direction.

The air was still and smelled unusually sweet. What wild plant gave off such a strong, sweet fragrance, she wondered. It made her feel almost dizzy. There was something familiar about it, but she couldn't remember what. She moved towards the left, hoping to go around the buildings to the front to get a view of the loch, but a couple of times she reached a dead end and had to turn back. She kept going until she saw boat masts ahead. They must be moored in the canal. Maggie had told her the Caledonian Canal was along here by the abbey. The boats were probably waiting to get through the lock-gate to go south to Loch Gairns.

Using the boats as a marker, she soon came to the canal, and then she followed it along towards the loch. Just at the point where the canal met the loch, she came to a pretty little stone tower with a white-painted roof. It didn't have an entrance, though, or not that she could find, which seemed a bit pointless. Vanessa sat on the bank and let her feet dangle above the water. The view across the loch was breathtaking. There were large mountains on both sides and a light wind created shadows and ripples along the surface. She watched the water for any movement, any sign at all of Nessie. Wouldn't it be great if she just appeared now, with nobody else around and in such a beautiful place!

Vanessa turned to look across the lawns in front of the monastery and tried to work out exactly where the monk and his friend had stood when they saw Nessie. She stood up then, and walked towards the building until she found herself almost under the tower.

She was beginning to feel a little strange in herself now, and tired too. Suddenly, a huge black hawk glided out from behind the tower, soaring high above her. She watched in awe – its movement was so graceful. But then the hawk swooped right down towards her, flying terriflyingly close to her head. She ducked, clutching her hair. Was he attacking her? The bird circled, getting ready to come at her again, when Vanessa heard a deep rumble and the sound of bubbling water behind her. She spun on her heels, her heart fluttering in her chest, her breathing suddenly shallow. Before she could register anything at all in the water, a film fell across her eyes and she crumpled to the ground.

Turning on her side, she tried to protect her face. Something was licking it. It took her a while to register that it was Daisy, and that Maggie was stroking her hair, talking to her. For a split second, she imagined she was back in the kitchen at the dinner table, but as she rolled onto her back, she saw the spires of the abbey again, and remembered. How long had she lain there?

‘You're white as a sheet, lass. What happened to you? You must have been out cold for ages. I got worried and came after you. Daisy was the first one I found, barking like mad.'

‘Oh, Maggie, I am sorry. She wouldn't come any farther so I thought …'

She stopped, suddenly aware of a grinding pain above her eyes as she sat up.

‘Headache,' she muttered and struggled to her feet.

‘We'll call Doc Morris when we get back. He can look you over.'

‘I'm fine, honestly. It was just … hunger. I sometimes feel light-headed on an empty stomach.'

‘You can't be hungry after that monster breakfast, surely?

She'd blown it now. ‘Oh, well, a little. I have a huge appetite,' she said lamely.

They started to walk back towards the gate again, Maggie linking Vanessa's arm through hers, while Daisy pulled hard on the lead.

‘Double rations tomorrow for you then, my girl.' Maggie was clearly puzzled at the thought that her famous Highland breakfast was not enough to satisfy this slip of a girl.

Alex Campbell, a water bailiff on Loch Ness for many decades and a local correspondent for the
Inverness Courier,
saw the monster many times. In May 1934, he said ‘a strange object seemed to shoot out of the calm waters almost opposite the Abbey boathouse'. He reckoned that the head and neck stood about 6 feet above the water and the body, a large rounded hump, was about 30 feet long. It was like no animal he had ever seen before.

It was dark, pitch dark, when Vanessa opened her eyes with a start. What had woken her? She listened, straining to hear any noise at all. The silence in the room was almost like a physical presence, something heavy and breathless. Vanessa didn't move, her arms felt rigid by her sides, her neck taut. She waited until her eyes started to adjust to the dark.

Gradually, she could make out the window that looked out over Loch Ness, but farther from the end of her bed than she had remembered. Was it always curved at the top? She peered harder, trying to focus. The window in her room had four small panes, didn't it?

Her legs felt wobbly when she put them over the side of her bed and stood up slowly. She walked towards the window and reached out to feel the glass. But there was none, instead she felt a light cool breeze flutter about her hand and she drew it back to her chest as if nursing a pain. Turning to look back at her bed, she found instead four rough stone walls and a staircase in one corner. Her bed was gone.

Panicked now, she looked back out through the open arch to the water. She was sure it was Loch Ness, but where was the red boat, Maggie's rowing boat? Tense and alert, her eye caught a dark shape to the right on the grass below and she leaned forward to try and make it out.

Blinking hard and nervously, she watched the shape move slowly towards the water's edge. All of a sudden, it made sense to her: she was looking at the dark robes of a monk and his head was covered by a cowl. The figure stopped, he seemed to be surrounded by a small pool of light that came from beyond him. She found it hard to drag her eyes away, but she let her gaze dart out beyond him to the source of the light in the water. Previously an inky black space, she watched as the blackness lifted in one spot. Light seemed to be coming from beneath the water and rising to the surface. Gradually, the light became stronger and then a little more coloured, dull green and brackish yellow, luminescent.

Vanessa knew her limbs were incapable of any movement. She could feel the air in her nostrils with each inhalation, her scalp taut with fear. The world stood still and she waited. And then she saw her.

Nessie's head broke through the surface and for what seemed like an eternity, she held her neck high and looked towards Vanessa. She felt a warm rush of pleasure break like a wave inside her. She was looking at Nessie – her mother's dream had come true.

Time stood still.

Then she saw the monk raise his right hand as if in a blessing or a salute to the magnificent creature and, to her dismay, the scene slowly began to fold in on itself, the colours caving, once again, into blackness.

On 14 April 1933, Mr and Mrs John Mackay, the owners of the Drumnadrochit Hotel on Loch Ness were driving home when they saw a disturbance on the loch surface. They watched ‘an enormous animal rolling and plunging' for several minutes until it disappeared in a great upsurge of water. Their story appeared in the
Inverness Courier
, 2 May 1933.

Vanessa woke to a definite noise this time. There was someone at her door. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was ten o'clock. Why was she sleeping so long and so late these days? The soft knock came again and she realised that Maggie was probably standing outside with a huge breakfast. What would she do with it this time? She would have to divide it into small stashes, wrapped in tissue, and get rid of it slowly over the day.

When she opened the door, it was the last person on earth she expected to see – Lee.

‘Oh, it's you,' she said ungraciously. ‘I didn't mean it like that,' she stumbled on, realising how rude it had sounded. ‘It's just that I was expecting Maggie. She brought me breakfast yesterday.'

‘So I heard. I also heard that you almost fainted with hunger a few hours later, so I guessed you felt the same about her breakfasts as I did growing up.' And with that she pushed an oval tray into Vanessa's hands. When Vanessa looked down she saw, to her delight, a tray filled with all her favourite breakfast things – white toast with butter and marmalade, a bowl of Rice Krispies, fresh orange juice and a huge cup of hot chocolate. She looked up at Lee and grinned with delight.

‘She won't be offended?' she asked Lee.

‘She won't know,' Lee answered mischievously. ‘I just said I'd bring you breakfast this morning. Indeed, she'd be mortally wounded if she ever found out we hated salted porridge and haggis.'

‘And did she never guess?'

‘Goodness gracious no! I could never bear to hurt her feelings. She was so sure that I'd love Scotland and love their food when I arrived from America to live with them.'

‘And did you?' Vanessa asked with genuine interest.

‘Loved Scotland, still hate the food! But don't ever tell her. Well, I'd better see to the others. See you later.'

‘Thanks, Lee.' It was the first time Vanessa had used Lee's name, and it felt strange on her tongue. She was sure she saw Lee start slightly when she said it.

Vanessa ate her breakfast at the table by the window. She stared hard at the water and the grass below, picturing the monk, the colours and trying to visualise Nessie in front of her. It was frustrating, though: the sun, clear skies and mirror-like water made too much of a contrast to let her recall the scene properly.

By the time she had finished, it was almost half past eleven, so she dressed and went down to the kitchen. It was empty except for Daisy, who gave her an exuberant welcome. She eventually settled the dog down again by giving her a piece of ham that she found in the fridge, and made a quick getaway into the garden. That dog wasn't the easy canine companion you'd want. She was like one of those friends that talked incessantly – interesting, but exhausting.

Vanessa found everyone gathered down near the end of the lawn bent over a pile of boxes, and she could see a number of fishing rods on the grass. Luke and Ronan were in their element.

‘Vanessa, wait until you see this kit,' Ronan said, when he spotted her. ‘It's fantastic.'

‘Look at this one!' Luke held up a rather ordinary rod and waved it in Vanessa's direction.

‘Ghillie's Choice, one of the finest Clan Rods,' Maggie offered, ‘as used by the Prince of Wales.'

Let me guess – Lee's rod with which she won every angling competition there ever was in the Highlands, Vanessa thought.

It was as if Maggie had read her mind. ‘They belonged to my husband, Peter. He won lots of competitions in his lifetime. All the cups in the sitting room cabinet are his.'

‘Oh, right. I noticed those yesterday,' Vanessa said lamely. She was flushed with embarrassment.

‘Are you going fishing again?' Vanessa asked nobody in particular.

‘Well, Luke and Ronan are going to fish in Loch Ness and Lee and I …' Alan started to explain.

‘But is there anything to catch in it?' Ronan interrupted.

‘Of course, lad!' Maggie exclaimed before Alan could reply. ‘The loch has tons of fish – brown trout, sea trout, arctic char. And you might even still get a few salmon, although it's late in the season. The best spot on the loch is around the bend there at Bell's Point. It's the Mackay's land so there's nae a problem.'

Ronan and Luke looked pleased.

‘Vanessa, I've given the boys the choice of staying here to fish, or coming with Lee and me to visit Lorrie on the Isle of Skye. That's Lee's grandmother,' Alan added when he saw her blank look. ‘What would you like to do?'

‘Fish,' she said shortly. She couldn't believe that he was going off with her again. Family holiday, my foot.

‘Can we take the boat out?' Luke asked. ‘We're all good swimmers.'

‘Absolutely not,' Maggie said without hesitation. ‘The winds can get up suddenly on the loch. And no swimming either, the eels are big out there.'

‘When we get back, maybe Lee could take you out,' Alan said looking at Lee for support.

‘Of course, I'd love to. I'll show you all the nooks and crannies on the south end that only the locals know.'

The boys agreed eagerly enough, but Vanessa said nothing.

‘We'll be back by half past four. Make sure you catch us something for dinner.'

‘So we'll go out in the boat at half four?' Vanessa demanded, examining Luke's rod closely.

‘No problem.' Alan was clearly relieved with the outcome. He picked up a rod in three pieces and began its construction. ‘Will you look in the box for a reel, Vanessa, and this one can be yours?'

They found their way easily enough to Bell's Point. It was a thin piece of land that jutted into the loch and at the end was a small whitewashed round bollard. The boys laughed and joked about whether it was something used to tie up boats, a viewing platform for Nessie hunters or a very tiny bell tower, as Luke suggested. In the end, Ronan decided that it was a leprechaun perch and sat himself on top with his fishing rod.

Within the next couple of hours, they caught a few fish, all of which were tiny and were returned immediately to the water. Maggie had packed them a picnic, but Vanessa eyed it uncertainly. It looked pretty, bound up in a blue and white check cloth, but knowing Maggie it could be that haggis stuff again. She unpacked it to find small bundles in grease proof paper tied with string.

‘Anyone hungry yet?' Vanessa shouted. ‘It's nearly half past one, you know.'

‘OK, you put the stuff out and we'll – ' Luke stopped mid-sentence, his face lit up. ‘I've definitely got something bigger this time.' He started to reel it in.

Vanessa watched with a smile on her face. Luke was pretty cool really. So many of her friends complained about their horrible teenage brothers and how mean they were. She felt the lump in her throat. If she was being honest, it was she who was horrible to him … and to Ronan sometimes.

She busied herself by unpacking the picnic onto the cloth which she spread out on the grass, but she was still thinking about her brothers. Why did she give them such a hard time? They had lost their mother too.

And then something that she had never thought of before struck her. It seemed to reverberate and gather intensity in her head and she knew that it was true. She was angry with Luke and Ronan, angry that they were able to cope so well with their mother's death. Of course they cried and still had their bad days, but they were OK. She knew suddenly that she was not only angry with them, but envious of them too.

It seemed to Vanessa that the pain which seared through her on the day they buried her mother had not lessened even for a moment. She remembered standing over the deep grave and throwing the soil on the coffin, she could hear the scattering of the earth in her head. But worse came as they left the graveyard: the feeling that they were all deserting her. She could never forgive herself or them for that.

Since then, she had felt adrift, disconnected from everyone and everything. Her friends talked about the future and what they would do – where they would go next week, what they would do next summer, even about university. Vanessa tried her best to act the same, but it felt as if life had stopped that day. There was only her past now and no future for her at all. She dreaded everything ahead – her next birthday, the third Christmas without her mother, going into secondary school, getting her period. Who would help her through all that?

‘Look, look, Vanessa. Luke's caught a huge one.' Ronan was almost dancing with excitement as the fish was landed. Vanessa restrained herself from saying anything – bigger, it was; huge, it wasn't.

‘What is it, Luke?' Vanessa asked instead.

‘A trout, I think. It's large enough to eat, so we'll bring it back and cook it later.'

He put the fish into a bag filled with ice that Maggie had given them. ‘OK, so what's for lunch?'

They all stared at the tablecloth laid out on the grass, Vanessa seeing the contents for the first time herself.

‘At last, a proper Famous Five picnic!' Luke said. ‘Freshly baked bread, sliced sweet tomatoes, farmhouse cheese, cold sausages and to top it all, George …? ' He looked at Vanessa expectantly.

‘What?' she said sternly. ‘And I'm not George, I'd rather be Timmy the dog than that cranky insecure girl/boy thing.'

‘I'm Dick,' Ronan said quickly.

‘So where's the ginger beer, Timmy?'

Vanessa checked the basket again.

‘None, sorry. Aunt Fanny has failed us badly this time.'

The boys decided to stay on fishing for a little while longer, but after lunch Vanessa went back to the cottage. Despite the lovely afternoon, she felt strangely despondent. It was hard to put one foot in front of the other and she desperately needed to sleep. She hoped that Maggie wouldn't be in the kitchen; she didn't want to talk to anyone.

Once inside the cottage, Vanessa scurried quickly up the stairs, trying to make her footsteps light on the creaking boards. She washed her hands and face in cold water and then lay down on her bed. She wondered if she would have the same dream again, and this time maybe she would get a longer look at Nessie.

Twenty minutes later, she was still awake. Her eyes roamed around the room and came to a stop at the cupboard that Maggie had got the charcoals and sketchpad from.

She opened both doors wide. It was clearly a much loved space. Labelled boxes lined the shelves – Water colour paints, Oils, Pastels, Brushes. Her eyes flew along the rows and then stopped at one labelled Loch Ness articles.

Vanessa looked back over her shoulder to the closed bedroom door. She knew she was being nosy; something she despised in others and usually had no problem resisting herself. But this time something compelled her, and it felt too important to ignore.

Sliding out the box, she opened the top and lifted up the first article. It was a copy of the
Northern Chronicle,
dated June 1930. ‘A Strange Experience on Loch Ness.' She scanned the page. It was about local fishermen who had seen a large creature cause a disturbance in the water near Tore Point. It finished by asking if readers could help enlighten them on the subject. The next few articles were ones received over the following weeks in reply. Her eye caught another from the
Inverness Courier,
dated 2 May 1933. ‘A Strange Spectacle on Loch Ness' by Alex Campbell. Vanessa read quickly through the opening paragraph.

‘Mr and Mrs John Mackay, owners of the local Inn at Drumnadrochit …'

She started at the name, Mackay – weren't they the neighbours, the odd brothers, she had met on their first night? Her mind ran furiously over conversations trying to remember their names – Pat was the cranky one with the wild white hair, but what was the bald one called? Hang on. If he was even twenty years old in 1933, that would make him over a hundred now. Maybe John Mackay was their father. She remembered them talking about their mother. James – that was the bald one's name! He was the one who believed in Nessie and had talked about sightings, but Pat had dismissed it altogether.

Vanessa rifled through the rest hungrily, scanning the dates and headings. They were all in meticulous chronological order. And there were hundreds of them. It would be days of reading. What if she started with the last article, the most recent one? Having found it, however, she was disappointed, as the last article proved to be nothing about the Loch Ness Monster. Dated 7 May 1986 and in the
Inverness Courier
, it appeared to be about a local child, Lena Cook, who had gone missing, and there was an appeal to the community for information.

A creak on the stairs made Vanessa jump guiltily. She closed the box quickly and shut the cupboard doors as quietly as possible. She waited, but the footsteps continued past her door without hesitation and she heard another door close down the corridor. Vanessa felt a tightness in her chest. Asthma or panic? She sat on the side of the bed again and tried to breathe evenly; she hadn't had an asthma attack in about five years. Her mind was racing but her eyes kept being drawn back to the closed cupboard doors. What else would she find in there?