What She Saw: A gripping psychological thriller with a heart-pounding twist

by Wendy Clarke

  The words hung between them, knife-sharp. Ria waited, trying to read his body language for clues, but could find none. His face was impassive now, but she knew how his mind worked. She wasn’t fooled.

  His laugh was empty. ‘Are you stupid enough to think that if you left, I wouldn’t find you? You have no idea of the power of money. People owe me.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to run away. Just stay at my mum and dad’s for a while. You’ll be able to see Lily when you want.’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare leave me,’ he said, the sneer in his voice evident. ‘I’m all you’ve got.’

  Lurching forward, he pushed up against her, pressing his body hard onto hers so that her spine bit into the worktop. Taking her face in his hands, he tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away, repulsed by the smell of whiskey on his breath.

  He drew her face back towards him. ‘Don’t tease.’

  The hands she had once loved to feel on her skin, now made it crawl. She screwed up her eyes. ‘Please don’t.’

  ‘It’s a bit late to play hard to get, isn’t it?’

  Grabbing her by the hair, he tipped her head back and forced his mouth onto hers, crushing the underside of her lip against her teeth. There was the unmistakeable metallic taste of blood. With his free hand, he reached down and pulled her dress up over her thighs, shoving his hand between her legs.

  Over the years, she’d felt she’d lost the right to say no, but now she fought to get away, fear making her brave. ‘If you touch me, when Lily’s older, I’ll make sure she knows exactly what her father is. A rapist and a wife-beater.’

  The force of his hand knocked her to the floor and, through the blinding pain, she realised her error. His eyes were cold, his lips a thin line as he stood over her.

  ‘And I will make sure she knows your dirty little secret.’

  Her fear was overwhelming. Paralysing. He would kill her. She knew it. With blood hammering at her temples, she pushed herself away from him across the floor, but he was quicker. Grabbing her by the throat, he forced her to stand. He was too big. Too near. She could feel the press of his fingers on her neck.

  Gareth’s face was as hard as if it had been stamped on a coin. Though it was close to hers, she could barely recognise him, anger making his smooth features ugly. She was shocked to see the hatred in his eyes, and it was then that she realised he had probably never loved her. Not really.

  He pressed harder, his eyes never leaving hers. Ria pulled at his hands, but he was too strong. She was struggling to breathe. The room was blurring.

  He would kill her.

  Reaching out a hand blindly, Ria grabbed at anything that was there. Her fingertips met with the heavy pasta jar. As she brought it down, the cold glass making contact with the side of his head, there was only one thought in her mind.

  It would end badly. But at least it would end.

  Twenty-Eight

  Beth

  ‘I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come.’ David pushed the door of the camper van closed and walked over to her. ‘That you’ve been avoiding me. I’d been hoping I might bump into you on the fells, but the chances of that were pretty slim.’

  Although the bench where she was sitting was uncomfortable, cold and damp with dew, Beth remained where she was. It was not yet dawn, but there was the sensation that day was at hand. Despite the pale moon that hung over the church, the sky to the east was already lightening. She could hear the occasional bleat of a sheep from a nearby field and, in an hour or so, Graham Hargreaves would be trundling down the lane in his van to open up his shop in order to receive the morning papers.

  ‘I wasn’t going to come.’

  He folded his arms. ‘What made you change your mind?’

  ‘I woke up this morning and thought, you know what, if he’s going to be a dickhead, then I might as well get up at some ungodly hour and find out why.’

  She wasn’t going to tell him how hard it had been not to answer his calls. How the idea of seeing him again, once planted, had become too strong to ignore – even if it meant she would be embarrassed all over again. What made her wake last night and see his text, she didn’t know, but there had been something romantic about his request to meet her at dawn. Like pebbles thrown at a window in a movie.

  ‘I see. A dickhead's what I am, is it?’ His surprise at her choice of words had turned quickly to amusement. ‘Well, you’re probably right. I wouldn’t win any contests for diplomacy.’ Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looked at her. ‘I would have explained it all to you, only you ran off and then never answered any of my calls.’

  ‘You could have messaged me, like normal people do. Not wait until last night to do it.’

  For once he was serious. ‘What I had to say, couldn’t have been said in a message. Anyway, who’s to say you wouldn’t have ignored that too?’

  Beth looked away. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’

  ‘You are… and I appreciate it. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘I wasn’t upset,’ she said, hoping he wouldn’t see through her lie. ‘I was angry. So, what was it that made you treat me like a leper? My sweaty palm? The fact that your girlfriend wouldn’t like it?’

  ‘My girlfriend?’ He looked confused.

  ‘The one who should have been going to the barbeque.’

  ‘The one who…?’

  ‘Zena or Zara or whatever her name is.’

  David frowned. ‘Oh, her. Why would you think she was my girlfriend?’

  ‘I just had a feeling.’

  ‘Well, for your information, she isn’t. Anyway, what’s the big deal?’

  Beth swallowed. Despite everything he’d said, it was clear he didn’t care what she thought. She was moments away from getting up from her damp bench and taking the lane back to her house, but if she did, she’d never know how she’d managed to read the signals so wrongly. If she didn’t find out, there was every chance she’d make the same mistake with someone else.

  ‘So? Are you going to tell me or shall I just go home? I know what’s looking like the better option at the moment.’

  ‘I will – only just not here.’ He sat down next to her. ‘Did I tell you I’ve had another commission?’ Her expression gave him his answer. ‘No, of course not. You haven’t been speaking to me. Anyway, I have.’

  ‘What for?’ Beth tried not to sound too interested.

  ‘A local magazine. They want me to do an article called “Country Haunts”.’ He made quotation marks with his fingers in the air. ‘A series of photographs capturing the mysterious bleakness of the wilder areas of the county. I’m not going to tell the editor that the title is a fucking cliché and that I know any photographs I take will be just a vehicle for yet another trite article on the ghosts of the Lake District.’

  Beth looked towards the churchyard. ‘I’ve lived here most of my life and I’ve never seen a ghost.’

  ‘Me neither. It won’t matter, though. The readers will look at the photographs I’ve taken – all dark slate, rugged mountains and misty tarns, and their imaginations will do the rest. Speaking of which, that tarn I told you about… Fancy going to see it?’

  ‘What, now?’

  ‘Why not? I’ve checked the forecast and the weather should be perfect for the photographs I want to take. If we leave now, we will have timed it perfectly.’

  ‘For the golden hour?’

  ‘You’ve got it. Well remembered.’ He got out his keys to the camper van and jiggled them in his hand. ‘Anyway, what do you say? Fancy a jolly?’

  Behind her, the church bell tolled the hour and she wondered whether her parents would have woken yet. Whether they’d gone into her bedroom and seen she wasn’t there. No, of course they wouldn’t have. It was much too early. Later, they would though, and then all hell would break loose. There would be questions from her mum about who she’d been with and what they’d talked about. A lecture on how people couldn’t be trusted. That you never knew what their motives were. She’d hea
rd it a million times before – in the lift in their old block of flats, as they’d stood in the entrance hall on her first day at Lady Edburton, when she’d suggested she’d like to join the drama group that ran on Saturday mornings in Ambleside. All the sodding time, in fact.

  ‘I’d better just send a text to Mum. She’ll only freak out if she finds I’m not there.’

  And ask Beth questions about people she’d never even heard of in a voice that sent shivers down her spine.

  ‘No problem. You can do it while we’re driving. Hope she won’t mind me whisking you away so early.’

  Beth looked at the phone in her hands. ‘She won’t.’

  That was because she wouldn’t be telling her anything about him. She’d say she’d decided to get the early bus in order to go to breakfast club to revise. Her exams were only a few weeks away and, with any luck, her mum would believe her.

  David held the door of the van open for her. ‘Come on, then.’

  She got in and he reversed into the lay-by, then pulled out onto the road. As they drove, he didn’t speak, but instead, reached over and turned the radio on. The reception wasn’t good, the hissing and crackling masking the country music that was playing. He fiddled with the dial and then, finding nothing better, turned the radio off again.

  ‘Bloody reception.’

  Beth said nothing. The early start had left her sleepy and, as the van drove through the countryside, she felt her eyes closing.

  After what only seemed a few minutes, she felt a gentle shake on her arm. ‘Beth. We’re here.’

  She opened her eyes, wondering where she was. Then she remembered. She was out on the fells with David. She ran a hand across her mouth, hoping she hadn’t dribbled in her sleep, and looked out of the window. They had left the road and were in some sort of car park. Apart from David’s camper, there was only one other vehicle – a Land Rover that was parked at the far side. A couple of early hikers were preparing for their walk. The woman was bending down, lacing her walking boots, a Labrador beside her, and the man was studying a map with a torch. Beth was disappointed. She wanted this to be their place. Not something to be shared with others.

  David climbed out and raised his hand to them in greeting. ‘Morning.’ He turned to Beth, who had joined him. ‘Looks like someone else has had the same idea.’

  ‘Maybe they won’t be going the same way.’ Beth hoped it was the case. It had suddenly become important to her that they were alone.

  ‘Maybe.’ He slid open the door of the camper and took out his rucksack of camera equipment. ‘We’ll go this way.’

  A ladder stile took them out onto the rough grassland of the fells. Immediately, there was a choice of paths, but David pointed to the one straight ahead.

  ‘That’s the way.’

  Beth stood with her hands on her hips and looked up. In the milky light of dawn, she could just make out the path snaking its way up the mountainside, hugging its contours before disappearing into a copse of trees.

  ‘It looks steep.’

  ‘It looks worse from down here. You’ll be fine and it certainly beats Striding Edge on a bank holiday. Believe me, it will be worth it when we get there, and then you’ll thank me for dragging you out of your cosy bed.’

  He led the way, his feet picking out the safest path. At first, it was fairly level. It passed behind a white farmhouse with thick, rough-cast walls on the flank of the hill, but then it started to climb. They gained height quickly and soon the slopes on either side of them fell away, pleated by a curtain of shale.

  Beth looked down. They hadn’t been climbing long but already it seemed they had left civilisation far behind. Wisps of mist still clung to the lower slopes and lingered in the valley. It was ethereal and beautiful.

  ‘Doing all right?’

  Beth nodded, unzipping her jacket as she grew warmer. To either side of the path the fells were covered in ferns, young fronds showing their shepherds’ crooks.

  ‘A chameleon’s tongue.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘The ferns. They look like chameleons’s tongues.’

  David looked down. ‘I suppose they do. That’s the artist in you speaking.’

  Beth was pleased. It was like they had shared something. The track was steep and rocky, the feeling of remoteness increasing with every step. As they climbed higher, new layers of peaks came into view and, as the sky lightened from navy to palest blue, their craggy summits stood out in dark relief against it.

  Beth stopped and listened. A loud hissing and shushing had come from nowhere. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s where we’re going next. Peter’s Ghyll.’ David climbed onto an outcrop of rock and pointed. Reaching out a hand, he pulled Beth up to join him. She stared. They’d been following a little beck for some way, but what she saw in front of her was different. Here, the water rushed down the slope in an ever-increasingly deep gorge, tumbling in a series of waterfalls to the valley far below. It was wider, more urgent, than what they had seen before.

  ‘To reach the tarn, we have to cross it. It’s not far now.’

  The path across was nothing more than rocks and slabs poised above the cascade. Beth felt her palms go clammy. They’d been chatting as they’d walked, easy conversation about their favourite part of the Lakes and which fell they liked the best, but now she fell silent.

  David looked at her. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Is it safe?’

  ‘You don’t think I’d risk my camera equipment if it wasn’t, do you?’ He gripped the straps of his rucksack tightly. ‘Put your feet where I do and you’ll be fine. Not scared, are you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  Beth watched as David crossed and then, taking a deep breath, she followed, wobbling her way across the stones, trying not to look at the rushing water that plummeted from the hillside below her. When she reached the other side, David smiled his approval.

  ‘Crossed like a true professional.’ He clapped her on the back. ‘Just through the plantation of silver birches up ahead and we’ll be there, but we mustn’t hang about.’

  Beth checked her watch. It was nearly six thirty. The sun would soon be up. Walking faster, they wound their way through the silver-white skins of the naked trees until they emerged from the gloom. And there it was – the tarn David had been telling her about. Completely still. Reflecting its surroundings.

  ‘You took me to your special place, so I thought I’d take you to mine.’ David took his rucksack off his back and opened his arms wide, as if to encompass all he saw. ‘This is why I do what I do.’

  Beth was mesmerised. The scene before her was as beautiful as any she’d ever seen. There was nothing but the sky and the fells and the shining water. Most noticeable of all, though, was the silence. Not an eerie one, but one that filled her with a sense of peace.

  David smiled at her. ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘I was wishing.’

  ‘Wishing?’

  ‘Yes, that life could be this simple. Just me and the sky and the peaks. No people to have to please or tiptoe around or worry about. Does that sound stupid?’

  David shook his head. ‘It’s not stupid. I feel like that whenever I come here.’

  Crouching down, he unzipped his rucksack. Today his hair was loose and it fell about his face as he lifted out his camera. ‘You know, I’ve never brought anyone here before. I’ve never wanted to.’

  To the east, the sky had turned pink with streaks of orange. A shepherd’s warning. Beth pushed the thought away. Nothing was going to spoil this perfect moment.

  ‘Yet you brought me.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Beth moved closer and put her hand on his shoulder. She wondered if he might shrug it away, but he didn’t. ‘Why, David? Why did you want to bring me here?’

  Twisting his body, he looked up at her. ‘Because you’re different. Because you get me… You get all this.’ Turning back to the camera, he took off the lens cap. ‘And because I like you.’
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br />   ‘You like me?’ No one had ever said that to her before.

  ‘Don’t sound so surprised. You’re beautiful and talented and sensitive… Too bloody sensitive, if you ask me.’

  Beth put her hands on her hips. ‘Are you making fun of me?’

  He laughed. ‘See… exactly what I was saying.’ Placing the camera strap around his neck, he pushed himself up. ‘But you’re right. I am making fun of you a bit. It’s how I am when I’m feeling awkward. Sorry.’

  The sun had been rising steadily over the distant peaks, and the shadows of the birches behind them cast long stripes across the short springy turf. The tarn, which had been a navy mirror when they had first arrived, was now a lighter blue, and, as they watched, the dark shadow of a bird of prey passed across it.

  Beth looked up, watching the bird soar in the thermals, wings spread wide. She shivered.

  ‘Are you cold? Here. Have my fleece?’

  ‘No, I’m not cold. It’s just that sometimes when I watch them, I get the weirdest feeling.’

  David looked at her. ‘What sort of feeling?’

  ‘I don’t know. Like someone’s stepped over my grave. My mum asked me what my obsession with them was.’

  ‘And what did you tell her?’

  ‘I said I didn’t know.’ She watched the hawk glide effortlessly in the clear morning sky. ‘It’s the truth. Do you think I’m odd?’

  ‘A bit, but I like it. Come and sit with me. I need to explain what was going on in my head last Saturday.’ Sitting down, he stretched his legs out in front of him and leant back on his arms. ‘Don’t worry. It’s not wet.’

  Beth sat down beside him. She said nothing.

  ‘The truth is, I was worried.’

  Beth tilted her head back. The sky above was ridged with white clouds. ‘What about?’

  ‘I like you, Beth… I already told you that. But you’re only young. I’m not sure what people would think.’

  ‘I’m seventeen. I don’t care what people think.’