by Wendy Clarke
She sounds as if she’s trying to keep her patience. ‘I’ve checked and there haven’t been any freelancers with that name either. Not in the last few years anyway.’
‘There must be some mistake.’
‘There’s no mistake, Mrs Travis.’
The phone hangs limply in my hand and I try to digest what she’s just told me. Why has David been lying?
Picking up my keys and my coat, I run out to the car. I’ll message Colin later.
* * *
When I reach the scrubby area of moorland that serves as a car park at the top of Temple Quarry, I see that the only vehicle parked there is a green VW camper van. Could it be David’s? Scott’s Land Rover isn’t here, he must have parked it on the road by the lower entrance, and I wonder what to do. Taking out my phone, I press his number. He answers straight away, but I can hardly hear him.
‘Where are you?’ I ask.
I can barely make out what he’s saying. Something about the bothy. His voice comes and goes. I manage to tell him where I am, but he’s not happy.
‘Jesus, Leona. I told you to stay at the cottage. What about Colin? The police?’
‘I left Colin a message. Told him where I’d be.’
I tell him about the phone call I’d had with the magazine.
‘Please tell me you’re kidding me?’
My voice is strained. ‘Why would I joke at a time like this, Scott?’
‘I’m sorry it’s just – Christ! Do you think she’s with him?’
‘I don’t know. It’s possible.’ The thought fills me with dread. ‘I thought I’d check the top of the quarry first and then, if she’s not there, take the path down to the cavern itself. I need to find her. Reassure her that we’re not angry with her. It was me who made her run away in the first place.’
‘Don’t do that. The path will be dangerous after all this rain.’ I hear him speak to someone. Hear him repeating what I’ve just said.
‘Who’s that you’re talking to?’
Scott’s voice fades in and out. ‘Some guy… helping… tell him where…’
The phone cuts out and I shake it in frustration. Putting my phone back in my pocket, I walk away from the car. Since leaving home, the wind has picked up and the sky is now the colour of washed slate. I can see from the ground that it must have rained hard here and, from the way the dark clouds are pulling down towards the fells, it’s clear it will again. It’s lonely here. Bleak.
An uneasiness takes hold as I realise how alone I am. How exposed. For twelve years, I’ve avoided places like this, a price I’ve had to pay for twelve years living with a target on my back, but now I have no choice.
Zipping up my jacket, I see the sign, Temple Quarry etched onto the old wooden post. It leads into a narrow belt of deciduous woodland. It’s more sheltered in the trees; the only sound is the sighing of the wind in the higher branches and the sharp crack of twigs beneath my boots. There’s a rumble of thunder somewhere to the east and I walk faster. The wood seems darker now, the branches of the trees more tangled. Would Beth really have come this way at night and, if she did, how did she get here? It’s beginning to seem more and more unlikely.
With every step, my anxiety builds. A darkness pressing in on me. I replay Lisa’s words in my head. A mantra to calm me. Anxiety is not a weakness. It takes strength to fight it every day. But only someone superhuman would be able to fight the demons that are with me as I carry on alone through the trees. It’s only the thought of Beth’s face that keeps me going.
As I walk, I get the unsettling feeling that I’m not alone. That someone’s watching me. But I can’t think like that. I can’t give in to my fear. A branch snaps and there’s a cry. I turn towards the sound, my body freezing. It’s followed by a rustle and the leaves around me shiver. Panic brings life back to my limbs and I run, stumbling blindly along the path, for what seems like an eternity. At last, I break through the trees at the edge of the wood, not bothering to look back as I already know what’s hunting me.
A jay flies from the green canopy, its screaming call echoing in the silence. It’s only then that I stop running, hands on knees, trying to catch my breath as I watch the blue flash of the bird’s wing as it flies away. I’ve let my imagination get the better of me. I’ll be no help to anyone if I carry on like this.
I’m standing in an open space at the edge of a vast quarry, machinery left rusting amongst the heaps of unwanted slate. A few more steps and I’d plunge into an abyss so deep it takes my breath away. At the bottom is a pool – almost black between the slate walls that girdle it. I stand back to stop my head from swimming. A little way from the drop is a makeshift bench of slate. I touch my hand to it, feeling the wet stone – sure that this is where Beth comes to sit.
The slate is cold beneath my hand, the silence heavy, as it always is before a storm. I peer down again into the cavernous void. Here and there around the pool are dark recesses in the rock face. Tunnels where the miners once worked. Is this where Beth slept last night?
There’s a loud clap of thunder and the heavens open. In minutes, I’m soaked. The nearest shelter is in the woods I hated so much. With a sinking heart, I run back to them.
Fifty-One
Beth
The hard planks were digging into her back, the blankets they’d found in a bag under the bunk rough against her skin. Beth didn’t care, though. Nothing could spoil her happiness. Turning her head, she kissed David’s chest, running a hand over the smooth skin of his throat, tracing with her finger where his tan faded to milky white.
He turned to face her, his hand moving to her temple. As she felt his fingers draw through her hair, she smiled. She’d heard that the first time was often a disappointment, but it hadn’t been for her. At first, she’d been nervous, scared of doing the wrong thing, but David had been patient. Guiding her. Leading the way when she wasn’t sure what to do. She’d been surprised at how gentle he’d been. How loving.
‘Are you all right?’ David propped himself on his elbow and looked at her.
‘Of course I am.’
He looked relieved. ‘I just wanted to be sure.’
‘What we did… It isn’t something I’m going to regret, I promise.’
David kissed her hair. ‘Me neither, but I think we should go soon. The rain has stopped and who knows who’ll be passing this way.’
‘In a minute. I just want to lie here and remember.’ It was true. She wanted to remember every detail. Every touch.
‘Just a little while longer then.’ He lay back down and closed his eyes.
Beth smiled and curled herself around him, resting her head against his chest. Feeling his heart beating. Soon, she felt his breathing become slow and regular, the hand that had been caressing her bare skin, slipping from her shoulder. If only they could stay like this forever.
But it was not to be. From somewhere outside, she could hear voices. Not close, but close enough to make her slip from the blanket that covered them, pull on her shorts and top and go to the door. Opening it a crack, she listened, the stone floor cold on her bare feet. The voices were coming from the direction of the quarry and she recognised one of them straight away. It was her dad. Calling her name over and over. Whatever happened, he mustn’t find her in here with David, or all hell would break loose. If she went to him now and told him she was okay, he wouldn’t need to go to the bothy.
Her walking boots were on the floor beside the bed. Quickly, she pulled them on and laced them up. Being careful not to wake David, she ducked under the slate overhang and slipped outside. Without looking back, she disappeared into the rain.
Fifty-Two
Leona
My phone rings. Beyond the trees, a veil of rain sweeps across the bare ground on the quarry top and I’m relieved to see it’s Scott who’s calling. I jab at the button to answer it, then listen to what he’s telling me, my heart racing.
‘Have you found her? It’s chucking it down. I can hardly see my hand in front of my face.�
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‘We’ve been to the cavern and her rucksack and sleeping bag are there. It looks like it’s where she spent last night. I looked and there’s no sign of her sketchbook. If she’s gone to the quarry top to draw, we’ll soon find her.’
‘I’ve just been there. I couldn’t see her.’
‘Try not to worry. I’ll be with you soon and Eddie should already be up there. I sent him to find you to say we’d discovered her things, but I guess you haven’t seen him.’
‘He wouldn’t have seen me as I’ve been sheltering in the trees. Anyway… who is Eddie?’
‘He’s one of the guys who’s been helping me with the search. He was at the pub when I got there earlier, talking to some of the locals. Been staying at the campsite on his way up north apparently, and when I asked for some volunteers, he was very happy to help.’
‘Eddie?’ There’s something unsettling about the name. ‘Listen, Scott. What does he look like?’
‘Is it really important what he looks like? The longer we’re on the phone, the less chance there is of finding her.’
‘Just humour me. I need to know.’
There’s a pause and I imagine him wondering how to describe him. ‘He’s average height, broad shoulders… What do you want me to say?’
‘His eyes, Scott. What colour are his eyes?’
‘I don’t know, grey? Anyway, I’m nearly there now. I can see the sign to the quarry.’
I can’t breathe. ‘Scott, listen to me…’
But the reception has gone again.
I can’t think properly. Memories come rushing back. My carefree laugh, my fingertip touching the freckled skin of Gareth’s wrist, tracing the feathered lines of his tattoo, our naked bodies reflected back at us from the mirrored wardrobe doors. The echo of my voice as I make a joke: Eddie… I’ll call you Eddie. Like Eddie the Eagle.
The storm has closed in. A huge spike of lightning whip-cracks the peak on the other side of the valley. Rain beats down. Guessing Beth might have taken the rocky path that leads down to the cavern to find shelter, I push through the trees until I’m back out on the quarry top. My fear is all-consuming. I must find Beth before he does.
The wind has picked up, disorienting me. I take the wrong path and have to retrace my steps. It’s hard to see in the driving rain. I’m about to give up when I see a sign, half-hidden by the undergrowth, its message chilling me further.
DANGER!
Steep unfenced rock faces and deep water
Strictly NO abseiling, climbing or diving
The wind has pushed back my hood, allowing needles of rain to drive into my face, but I don’t care. My only thought is to find my daughter. I force my way through the brambles that snag at my clothes, not caring when a thorn rakes the skin of my hand. As I stumble along the slippery slate path, the dark, gaping throat of the quarry is my constant companion. I push away the hair that’s plastering my face and force back a wave of nausea at the sight of the quarry sides that fall away to my side. One slip and I would be over.
There are voices ahead. One of them is Scott’s. I see a shape. Two shapes. Is it Beth who’s with him? The rain is heavy now and I can barely see. As I draw nearer, I realise it’s not her. It’s another man. I have no plan. No thought of what I will do when I reach them.
‘Scott!’
He turns. His face almost obscured by the hood of his waterproof. ‘Look at you, Leona. You’re soaked. You should have waited.’
But I’m not paying attention to what he’s saying. The man I saw with him is no longer there.
‘Where is he?’
Scott frowns, the rain dripping from his hood. He looks around. ‘Who? Eddie? He’s…’
The arm around my neck forces me backwards. I clutch at the sleeve that covers it, desperate to relieve its pressure on my throat.
Scott lurches forward, but when he sees I’m being pulled towards the quarry edge, he stops.
Gareth’s breath is hot on my cheek. ‘Thought it might be a bit of fun to call myself Eddie. It was our little joke, wasn’t it, Ria – in the days before you became a lying little bitch. Eddie the Eagle… Bet you didn’t know I’d fly this far.’
Scott holds out his hand, realisation dawning. ‘Let’s talk, Gareth.’
‘Talk! She put me away for twelve years. You don’t think I’m leaving without finishing the job I should have finished that night?’
The wind has blown up again. It’s debilitating – unexpected gusts rocking us. And still the merciless rain lashes down.
‘Was it David who told you? Is that how you found out where we were?’
‘I don’t know what you’re on about. You managed to lay the trail all by yourself, lovely lady. Such a sweet note you left for your old friend, and such a pretty necklace. Didn’t take much digging to find out who was behind Leona Designs… not once I knew you were in the Lake District. Never underestimate the elderly, Ria. It’s amazing who they’ll blab to when they’re lonely. Your mother was pretty sparky when I had someone visit her. Couldn’t wait to tell him your little secret.’
As I picture my poor mother, Gareth increases the pressure of his arm and pinpricks of light punctuate the sky. I’m struggling to breathe, my neck aching from the angle he holds me at.
‘Don’t hurt her.’ Scott steps forward again, pushing against the wind. His voice desperate. ‘Think of what it would do to Beth… Lily. Take me instead.’
It’s like Gareth is not listening. ‘She thought she was so clever when the courts believed her little story, but she’s not. I’m the one who’s always been in control.’
‘How’s that?’ Scott’s playing for time. I can tell by the way he looks beyond us up the path. He’s hoping Colin might come… the police.
Gareth’s arm releases a little, allowing me to draw in some air. His face is against mine and I can tell, by the movement of the muscles in his cheek, that his mouth is twisted into a smile. ‘I bet she didn’t tell you about the baby.’
‘Samuel? Yes, she did. I know all about it. How she fell asleep with him in her bed. It’s not a secret any more.’
He laughs. The sound bouncing off the walls of the quarry. ‘That’s not what happened. It was me who put him there in the first place. When I got home late that night, the brat was in his cot. I thought he was asleep, but he wasn’t. He was dead. Cot death… Just like they’d said. I picked him up and put him in the bed next to her. Made her believe she’d killed him. It was my little joke.’
A cry escapes my lips and he laughs harder. ‘I knew it was something I could always use against you.’
Gareth has always known my weaknesses. He’s the eagle and I’m the prey. Even in prison, he’d have been planning the opportunity to catch me.
Scott’s face is thunderous. ‘You’re a monster.’
The rain is relentless, beating down on the slate path, making it shiny. I clutch at Gareth’s sleeve, exposing the talons of the eagle that wrap around his wrist as he drags me back with him towards the edge. It will take just one more step for us to be over.
Fifty-Three
Beth
Beth broke into a run. She could hear raised voices. An anguished shout. A woman’s cry that broke off as suddenly as it had started. On the path in front of her, there were three people frozen into a tableau. She stopped. Seeing it as if from some half-remembered dream. Only it wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare.
Her mum was there, a man’s arm around her throat. As Beth watched, terrified, she saw her mum grapple at his sleeve as she tried to free herself, drawing it back to expose the eagle tattoo on his wrist.
Memories pulled at her.
She was no longer sixteen, but a four-year-old child standing in the doorway of a kitchen. Watching. Not understanding. Her mother was there, her face white against her dark hair, a man’s hands around her throat. The same hands that were pressing round her neck now.
She watched the talons of the eagle on the man’s wrist flex as he tightened his hold. Her bird of prey p
ictures… Her obsession. Now she understood what it was all about.
Her mum’s frightened eyes were fixed on her as they had been all those years ago, but this time her stepdad was there too, his body poised but powerless. He knew, as Beth did, that it wouldn’t take much for the slate at the edge of the quarry to shift beneath their feet. The path was narrow. Vertiginous. One false move and they could both plunge to their deaths.
Beth didn’t know whether it was the four-year-old or her grown-up self who shouted it, but the words burst from her as they had twelve years ago.
‘Daddy!’
Fifty-Four
Leona
Gareth turns, distracted, and stares. Beth is standing a little way from us, her hand reaching out to him, her eyes pleading. Does he recognise her? Does he know she is the daughter he used to love? As his grey eyes lock with hers, I feel the change of pressure in his arm. He’s curious. Wondering, probably, how this new development might be used to his advantage.
It’s my only chance. Moving my head, I bite down as hard as I can on his forearm. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.
Gareth yells, releasing his arm. Scott runs forward but I’m quicker, pushing Gareth away from me. He stumbles, his feet slipping on the rain-slicked slate, his cry ringing out as a piece of the quarry edge breaks away. It happens as if in slow motion – one minute he’s there, and the next he isn’t.
Scott and I stare at each other in horror.
I am only a few centimetres from the edge and when I look down, I see him. He hasn’t fallen far, but is lying on a small ledge where scrubby trees have grown. The place where he has landed is steep, covered in scree. He’s on his side, looking up at me with frightened eyes. The loose shale is edging him ever closer to the final drop.