The Cryptid Files (7 page)

This time she looked at the piles of canvases stacked on the floor. They were all facing inwards. She would need to move a couple of things in front of them to be able to turn them around and get a proper look. Maybe they were all blank on the other side. She paused a moment, undecided about moving things. This was serious snooping. She would absolutely hate anyone, especially a stranger, rearranging her personal stuff.

When she turned the first and the largest canvas around, the shock was so great that she actually dropped it. The thud was soft enough but she was terrified someone had heard it and would come to investigate. When there was no sound, she picked it up again and held it tightly. Her hands were shaking.

The colours and light were exactly as she had seen them, but the detail of Nessie's face was much clearer – smooth skin and almost seal-like eyes. They were intelligent eyes, but she looked anxious, even threatened, Vanessa thought. But it was the monk in the cowl that really spooked her. That had been her dream, hadn't it? Who had painted it and when had they done it? Perhaps she had walked in her sleep the first night, saw the picture and then dreamt about it the second night? It sounded ridiculous to her, but then the alternative was even more unbelievable.

On 22 July 1933, when Mr and Mrs Spicer were returning home after a holiday in Scotland, their car nearly hit a huge creature as it slithered across the road into the loch. The ‘prehistoric animal' as Mrs Spicer described it, was very ugly: about 6 to 8 feet long with a tall neck and a high back. In a letter to the
Inverness Courier
published in 1933, Mr Spicer said:‘Whatever it is, and it may be a land and water animal, I think it should be destroyed, as I am not sure, if I had been quite so close to it, whether I should have cared to tackle it. It is difficult to give you a better description, as it moved so swiftly and the whole thing was sudden. There is no doubt it exists.'

Vanessa turned over the rest of the canvases quickly and positioned them in a circle around her. They were all different images of Nessie moving through the water. Her skin was generally a charcoal grey but in some pictures, it had a definite green tinge. The fins looked similar to a whale's, except for the second smaller set of fins at the back. Maybe they were the residual limbs of a sea mammal that was also once a land creature. The elongated tail and neck were more like that of the deep-sea eel. Perhaps their theory had been right after all, and Nessie was some form of deep-sea-adapted mammal. Well, why not? The beaked whale lives in deep oceans and can dive to 1,000 feet.

Vanessa whooped quietly for joy and the intensity of her excitement made her feel if as she might explode in the confines of the small cupboard. Suddenly, she felt very sure about Nessie – she was a sea creature that came into the loch when she was small and got trapped. That's why the real sightings only happened after the building of the Caledonian Canal. She had seen Nessie herself – at least in her dream or premonition or whatever it was. But whoever had painted these pictures knew the monster very well indeed.

Vanessa looked at her watch. It was twenty to five. Her dad had said that Lee would take them out in the boat on Loch Ness at half past four. It was time to go – with or without Lee. If she waited much longer it would get too dark.

She pulled on her jacket over her warm fleece and went downstairs. There was no sign of the boys or of Maggie, thank God. The air was crisp and cool when she stepped into the garden and the boat was sitting quite still in the water. It was like a millpond, perfectly safe. She would take it out 50 metres or so around the corner and probably be back in before Alan and Lee arrived home.

She untied the boat easily enough and pushed off with the oar. To her dismay, she found that she wasn't a very good rower. It was usually Luke or her dad who rowed when they went fishing in Ireland.

Vanessa put the oars in the oarlocks and pulled hard. They were surprisingly heavy and too deep in the water to pull. They should be closer to the surface, she decided, but when she tried that, she skimmed the top of the water and splashed herself. It took a couple of minutes to work out, but soon she managed a few small but even strokes and moved off from the bank. Keeping the rhythm going, she felt very pleased with herself. It was really quite easy when you got the hang of it. Once she rounded the corner, out of sight of the cottage, her determination evaporated. Dad would kill her if he caught her.

The silence was eerie out on the loch. She had expected to see birds or other boats on the water, but there was nothing. All she could hear was the gentle lap of water on the oars. Every muscle in her body felt rigid as she crouched over, sweating with the effort, trying to decide whether to continue or to go back.

Something moved at great speed from behind the bank of trees, making Vanessa look up with a start. The hawk again – silent and predatory, it circled high over the boat. She felt sure it was the same one that had frightened her in the abbey before. Had it been watching and waiting for her? She stretched her neck backwards, following its every move, terrified it would swoop down on her again. And then she saw it dive and lift a small fish in its beak, soaring back up high into the sky and off behind the trees. How ridiculous she was being! It was simply a hawk, doing what hawks do.

Vanessa tightened her grip on the left oar and then noticed that the right oar was gone. She must have let go as she watched the hawk. Standing up cautiously in the boat, she looked around in the water for it. Relieved, she saw that it was floating about 3 metres away to the right. She could easily punt over to it.

It was slower progress than Vanessa imagined and she could feel a small knot of anxiety in her chest. She would be fine, she told herself. The last thing she needed now was an asthma attack. She couldn't swim to the oar, as she would never be able to get back in the boat, so she would just have to paddle slowly.

It seemed as if the oar was drifting away at exactly the same speed as she was moving towards it. The gap just wouldn't close. She was quite a distance from Maggie's now, and nobody could see her even if they were out in the garden. No panicking, just paddle harder she told herself.

Finally, Vanessa's efforts paid off. Using the other oar she pulled the one in the water in to the side of the boat. It would be difficult to get it up out of the water. Her hands were aching and her left palm was beginning to blister. She stood up again and with less caution this time leaned over the side of the boat, balancing on her stomach to pull it up.

In that moment, as Vanessa balanced on the edge, not wanting to let go of the oar again, she saw what would happen before it actually did. In slow motion, the boat tipped further over under her weight, and she slipped silently into the water, head first. The heavy wooden boat turned turtle on top of her. It made a dull thud, there was no splash, and no shout as Vanessa went under.

There are many strange things about Loch Ness. Locals say that it never gives up its dead. A number of people who drowned have literally disappeared and their bodies have never been found. Even dead fish don't come to the surface.

Vanessa did not feel the blow to the side of her head. It was numbed too quickly by the shock of cold water as her whole body went down. It was icy cold and painful on her skin. She tried to swim, hoping she was going up towards the surface. Her coat and shoes felt like lead weights and the pull downwards was almost overwhelming, but she kicked furiously until her face broke the surface. The moment of relief was intense, but it did not last. Why was it pitch black? Where was she?

Bewildered and tired from kicking to keep afloat, her flaying arms hit out and she grazed her knuckles on something. Yes, the boat of course. She could feel the upside-down bench and the oarlocks: she was beneath the upturned boat. She'd have to go under again to swim out of the boat and do it quickly, because she would soon be too cold to move.

Vanessa groped along the inside edge of the boat. Her clothes were waterlogged and her hands were numb with the cold. She was finding it hard to hold on. She went under and swam hard. The cold bit at her face and scalp, but she gasped with relief to be out in the air. She turned towards the bank.

‘Help!' she croaked. She cleared her throat and tried to yell louder, but it made her cough hard. Even to her ears, it was a pitiful cry that wouldn't be heard more than a couple of feet away. Could she swim to the shore? Normally, she could swim that distance with no problem, but her body ached with exhaustion. She couldn't even get a hold on the upturned boat. It was too slimy.

Seconds felt like hours and she knew she wouldn't be able to cling to the surface much longer. Her limbs were getting heavier and her head lighter. She waited for something to happen, knowing that she couldn't make it happen herself.

She felt her vision blur and she blinked furiously. Her mind was blank with panic and her body weak with effort. Nobody could save her.

‘Mum, help me. Help me please …' Her voice was barely a whisper.

Was she imagining things? She felt the warmth creep over her and envelop her body. Her legs and arms, so tense and heavy, began to loosen slowly.

She registered the glow of light beneath her, just seconds before she sank down deep into Loch Ness.

On 30 July 1979, Alistair and Sue Boyd parked in a spot above Temple Pier when they saw a huge hump surface in the loch. It was about the size of a yacht hull, but by the time they got their camera from the car, it had disappeared.

When Vanessa woke the first time, it was dark. From behind half-shut eyes and the filter of her lashes, she tried to make out some shapes. It was a vague blur and her brain registered nothing familiar. Her eyelids felt heavy as they closed over. She was too tired to fight sleep.

The second time she opened them wide, she lay very still and looked straight ahead. Green. She rolled her head a little to the left and then the right. There appeared to be a soft green glow in the air all around her. Her hands and feet felt quite numb and her back ached. She wriggled slightly, testing her limbs, suddenly aware that she was lying on something extremely hard and uncomfortable. None of it made sense. Perhaps if she closed her eyes again, the dream would fade like the last time and she would find herself back in bed. Willingly, her eyelids shut the world out for a second time.

She didn't know how much actual time had passed before she came to properly. This time, she pulled herself up to a sitting position and looked around. Above her the stone ceiling arched like a cathedral roof and she saw a number of openings in the walls. Were there caves up there? she wondered. Looking down now she found that she was sitting on a ledge about 2 feet above the water, which shone an extremely odd shade of green. She lay down on her stomach and dipped her hand in, it was cool but not cold and she made ripples with her fingers. She watched the movement of the water around her hands and was quite unprepared for the sudden desire to get into the water that overwhelmed her. As she took off her socks and shoes, she noticed that it was the walls rather than the water that were glowing green. Was it some kind of algae? She lay on her stomach, hanging out quite far over the edge and peered into the deep as if it had some intense connection with her. The glow from the walls beneath the water allowed her to see down quite deep. She couldn't be certain, but it looked as if the caves continued beneath the water. She scraped a little of the green algae off the walls and then sat up to examine it. She had seen something like it in the
Blue Planet
series on deep-sea creatures. Bio-luminescence, that was it. She remembered being astonished by the tricks of evolution that help in survival. Wasn't it the hatchet fish that lived in the ocean at 4,500 feet? Not only did it glow, but it could change its brightness to attract prey or to camouflage it. And didn't some jellyfish have to eat plants or algae to keep their glow?

Why don't you try some?

Vanessa looked up, startled, as the sound of a voice echoed through her head. She was sure it hadn't been spoken out loud. It had felt more like a reverberation inside her skull. A prickling fear crept through her, tightening every muscle in her body. She listened for any sound at all and, hearing only silence, she forced herself to stand up and look around. Should she shout out and see if anyone answered? She opened her mouth wide, but no sound came out. Stunned, she tried again, but no attempt to clear her throat or cough would produce any sound at all.

She stood very still for a while, holding her breath for long periods and then breathing as quietly as she could in between. Looking up above her, Vanessa scanned the walls for any shaft of light that might show a way out. But all the time, she kept being distracted in her thoughts by the water below, drawing her in. Trying hard to think about where she might be or how she got there, Vanessa felt her mind go blank. It was a pleasant sensation – calm and peaceful. True, she couldn't remember where she was or what had happened just minutes before, but did it matter?

Tired all of a sudden, she sat down and tried to reach the water with her toes. They dangled just out of reach of the surface. Time to dive in, she thought to herself. Time? What time was it? Glancing at her watch, she stopped in her tracks. What had happened to it? Why was the glass broken? It was difficult to see the hands, but it looked as though they had stopped at five o'clock. Morning or evening? A sudden image of herself in the rowing boat flashed through her mind, but before she could register it properly, it slipped away again. She felt frustrated more than afraid now, wondering when she would wake up from this weird and disjointed dream.

Vanessa knew that time must be marching on as she sat and waited for something. For what, she didn't know, just for something. But as there was no change in light and no second hand ticking on her watch, she had no sense of time passing. Eventually, she lay back down on the rock, and making a pillow with her fleece behind her head, she closed her eyes.