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"I can't believe you've brought me here! she said in a miserable tone, "I told you it wouldn't be any fun.
Jenny looked around her to see rows of badly erected tents surrounding them, moving off into the distance. There were rumblings of thunder in the distance which were equal to those manifesting in her stomach.
"I'm hungry.
"Will you stop complaining? Come on now, it's not that bad. The sun is shining¦for now. We're set up near the toilets and we've got plenty of food¦after we go hunting. Besides, we're not here for fun remember?
Sophie surveyed her surroundings. She was glad they were here. It was important that they found out what had really happened all those years ago. There was a real mystery to this place; something eerie, something not quite right, yet it intrigued her. It was important that Jenny didn't lose her nerve.
"It'll be alright Jen, try not to worry. It's probably a good idea to try to find the place this afternoon, we need the good light. Sophie grimaced at the thought
"Do we need to go today? Couldn't we just leave it until tomorrow? We could do with a good night's sleep first and¦
"No Jen. I'm not letting you stall this. If it was up to you, we'd never discover the secret.
Jenny suddenly turned angry "well if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even have a secret to find out about!
She stormed off in the direction of the babbling brook which was surrounded by children playing and giggling. A little girl with blonde ringlet pigtails was singing as she pranced along the bridge dropping stones that made a loud plopping noise as they broke the water's surface. She smiled at Jenny and waved as she headed back to her mother. She was perfect.
"I'm sorry came a quiet voice from behind her.
Jenny turned round to face her friend, tears streaming down her face "what happened to her Soph? What happened to my little girl?
"We'll find out, I promise you. That's what we're here for isn't it? Don't cry, it'll all be okay.
The two women walked slowly back to their tent. Through the dark green foliage, families could be seen and heard bickering amongst themselves, oblivious of whom or what was watching them.
"We should warn them Soph, all of them, everyone has a right to know what happens to children round here¦
"We will Jen, once we have proof but not a minute before.
Sophie reached into their rucksack and removed a small plastic bowl.
"There are some blackberry bushes over the far end of the field; I'm going to pick some for us to eat later. Do try to get some rest while I am gone.

Jenny struggled to smile but nodded diligently. She looked so young and tired; the trauma of the past years had really sucked the life out of her. She was pale and losing her freshness fast. Even her most prominent feature, her auburn hair, was now looking lank and lifeless. She gingerly retired to the tent as her friend impatiently carved her way across the field to the old familiar footpath. Sophie stomped her feet on the grass in a childlike fashion, determined to progress no matter what, in the direction of the old blackberry bush.
Once she was out of sight, Jenny opened the side pocket on her rucksack and pulled out the crumpled photograph. The pretty face of a little girl smiled back at her in the most perfect way. They had been the closest pair in the world. They'd giggled together, argued with each other and of course cried in each other's arms. Her baby had gone, been taken away and she hadn't ever understood why. Until the day that she received the letter.

She hadn't really believed it at first, the idea had seemed ludicrous. The suggestion that her little girl was indeed alive and well and writing to her seemed anything but possible. The content of the letter was simple "I miss you mummy. Meet me at the river next Tuesday, you know the spot. It wasn't this alone that persuaded Jenny; her heartstrings were well and truly tweaked by the lock of hair that had also been included in the envelope. This exquisite golden reminder now lived in a locket tied around her neck and was her one prized possession along with the photograph.

It was getting dark. It was time to go. Sophie was nowhere to be seen which was good because she always wanted to take control of things and stop Jenny from being herself. Sophie was far too rational for her liking. Jenny pulled on her coat, noticing that it was partially ripped on the sleeve; it wasn't going to give her anywhere near enough protection from the storm which was now fast approaching. She picked up the torch to help her to find the way and carefully placed her pocket knife in her sock, just in case she encountered anyone or anything dangerous.
She quietly and cautiously made her way across the left field, past the dark wooded area, towards the babbling brook. The rain was smashing down on her in an attacking manner. It worked against her, slowing her to an almost standstill in her attempts to reach the water. To add insult to injury, she could hear the little girl's voice in the distance calling to her, like a God to its disciples.
"I'm coming! Mummy's coming
Jenny trampled through the boggy ground as the rain continued to exert its power over her, diluting the mud from solid form to brown sludge, caking her boots as she desperately struggled to carry on.
Step after step she struggled until she could move no more. Her foot got caught in the sinking ground and she fell to the floor, engulfed in mud, unable to recover. Soaked through, Jenny began to realise that she wasn't going to make it, that her quest was over. She sobbed at the realisation. Then a voice came to her, it was Sophie's
"Get up. I said GET UP! You're pathetic.
Jenny looked around her
"Where are you? I can't see you. Sophie?
There was no response. She was on her own again. Maybe she had imagined it. All she knew was that she now needed to claw herself out of this nightmare and find her little girl.

Up ahead a torch light shone brightly; they were coming. It was the men who said it wasn't true ' they had come. Jenny stumbled to the edge of the river bank and scoured the water searching for her daughter. As the others approached, the little girl appeared. She was singing "Oranges and Lemons whilst playing at the water's edge. Jenny called out to her
"¦careful darling. Make sure that you don't¦
Before Jenny could finish the sentence, the little girl lost her footing and slipped on the muddy ravine, delving into the ice cold water. The body disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. In the distance, male voices could be heard shouting, lights were flashing and there was a strong sense of panic in the air.
Without a second thought, Jenny plunged into the icy pool, but it was too late. The child had vanished, never to be seen again. Tired, wet and distraught, Jenny lay crumpled on the river bank, both her mind and body exhausted.
All around her voices could be heard; officials sectioning the area off, locals muttering and pointing at the unfortunate young woman as she came round. A man approached her
"Helen? Helen it's Doctor Sanderson. We need to get you back to Southfields now and get you some help. Can you hear me Helen?
"Where's Tammy? she said in a tired voice.
"Tammy's gone Helen; she went a long time ago now. Don't you remember?
"I remember. What about Jenny and Sophie? And the letter?
"Helen, there is no letter. Sophie and Jenny don't exist; at least they only exist in your mind. It's your way of dealing with the truth.
"What truth?
"That you murdered your own daughter.

She awoke minutes later strapped down on an ambulance stretcher. There were tubes attached to her and her arm ached from the medication that had been administered to her. Her head was hazy but slowly things were becoming clearer. She was beginning to remember what had happened and the reality of her situation was too painful.
She remembered that it had been a sunny day; blackberry picking had been the highlight. She had gone to pick some, leaving Tammy alone in the tent and when she returned she found that the little girl had gone. Anxious to recover her quickly, Helen had scoured the area heading finally to the brook. It was then that she discovered her little body all cold and twisted, covered in purple bruises where she had rebounded off the sides and bottom of the bank. Almost immediately they decided that she was guilty of murder through neglect but she had been too ill to go to prison so she had been incarcerated in Southfields Mental Institution instead. It had been decided that she should remain in hospital indefinitely ' until she could accept the truth.