Knife Edge

by Fergus McNeill

  He tailed off and looked away from her.

  ‘Don’t be,’ she told him. ‘I’m not.’

  So strong, yet so vulnerable.

  He smiled sadly, eyes downcast as he waited for the words to come.

  ‘I never meant …’ he dragged his gaze back to hers ‘… never meant for this to happen.’

  ‘I know.’

  Perhaps that was why it felt different. Because he hadn’t tried to seduce her, hadn’t tried to do anything other than protect her.

  ‘I was worried for you. I just wanted to help.’

  ‘I know,’ she told him. ‘And you did.’

  Easing herself down onto the duvet, she leaned across and extended her arms, drawing him close before settling down to rest her head on his chest, his heartbeat reassuring and steady in the quiet of the room.

  ‘What will you do?’ he asked after a while.

  Kim closed her eyes for a moment, then shook her head slowly.

  ‘Honestly? I don’t know.’ She felt strangely calm, but things would be difficult now – the money she’d taken wouldn’t last for ever. ‘Keep looking for a new job, I suppose. I can’t ever go back home now.’

  Lying quietly, she gazed at the photograph of Graham and Alice, wondering what she’d been like, if they’d been happy together.

  ‘You could stay here for a while,’ he said after a moment.

  Kim drew back and stared at him.

  ‘I’m not your problem.’ She wasn’t helpless. She could take care of herself.

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’ His expression was pained, as though he’d forgotten how to speak to a woman. Perhaps he had. ‘I just meant for a day or two, if it helps. Where are you staying just now?’

  She regarded him carefully for a moment, then relented.

  ‘At a B & B in Taunton.’

  He nodded, choosing his words carefully.

  ‘I’m just saying, you can stay here until you get yourself sorted. If you want.’

  He really seemed to mean it.

  ‘Oh, and I didn’t—’ He broke off, eyes flickering to hers then quickly away again. ‘There’s a spare room. If you want.’

  He trailed off into an awkward silence. So honest, nothing hidden.

  Slowly, she relaxed back down to lay her head on his shoulder, smiling to herself.

  ‘We’ll see,’ she said.

  part 4

  SACRIFICE

  45

  Saturday, 30 August

  Saturday-morning sunlight glimmered in the gap between the curtains as Harland blinked and opened his eyes. He yawned and went to roll over, pausing as he felt Kim’s arm draped across him. Turning his head, he gazed at the tangle of brunette hair on the pillow next to him, listened to the soft rhythm of her breathing.

  Had he made a mistake? Inviting a stranger into his house, into his life? A confusion of different emotions rose in his mind and he closed his eyes against them for a moment, sinking back down into the mattress.

  Beside him, she stirred a little, then settled again, the warmth of her body oddly soothing.

  They’d made love again last night – the first time since the first time. He hadn’t wanted to push things with her, and though she’d shared his bed each night, he’d known it was because she didn’t want to be alone. But last night, as he lay there looking up at the ceiling, she’d climbed on top of him and silenced his questions with a kiss.

  Now, he sat up slowly, gently lifting her arm and moving out from beneath it. Visible above the edge of the duvet, her white camisole top rose and fell steadily as she slept on. Getting out of bed, he stood up and stretched, then moved towards the door, walking carefully to avoid waking her. It would take a while to get used to having someone else here again, and suddenly the house felt strange, but not in a bad way.

  In the bathroom, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and turned to lean over the sink, studying his reflection and catching the ghost of a smile. The aching loss was still there in his eyes, but for the first time it seemed diminished, pushed aside by … what?

  Lust? No. She was lovely, and he wanted her, but it was more than that.

  He made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. Pausing to yawn again, he checked there was water in the kettle and switched it on.

  His instinct was to protect, to worry – instincts he normally had to suppress. So many women seemed to respond to indifference, to easy-going confidence – things that didn’t come naturally to him any more. But with her, there had been no time to pretend. He had been himself and it had been enough.

  As he went to get the milk, his eyes settled on the old photo of Alice and himself, stuck on the fridge door.

  He had been himself.

  Perhaps that was why he felt no guilt.

  They had a meagre breakfast at the small kitchen table – usual for him, but he found himself wondering if she normally ate more. There was still so much he didn’t know about her. He’d thought about going to the supermarket on his way home last night, but somehow the idea of buying lots of different food seemed dangerous, like tempting fate. If he started acting as though they were living together, it would break the spell and she would go. Day by day was fine for now.

  She looked sleepy but she had dressed before coming down – still very much a house guest. When they had finished their coffee, he picked up the cups and took them over to the sink, wondering if she had plans for the day, hoping that she didn’t.

  ‘Doing anything later?’ He tried to sound casual about it.

  Kim yawned.

  ‘Not really thought about it,’ she said.

  Harland felt himself smiling as he rinsed out the cups, then turned around to face her.

  ‘Look, I know that wasn’t much of a breakfast …’ He shrugged as she lifted her head to gaze over at him. ‘Did you want to maybe go out and find somewhere to eat?’

  And some neutral territory so she could relax with him.

  ‘OK,’ Kim said slowly. ‘I don’t really know Bristol that well.’

  ‘We could take a walk, if you want. There are lots of good places.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ she nodded, stifling a yawn. ‘I’m not really hungry just now, but a walk sounds good.’

  It was bright and warm as they waited for a break in the traffic before crossing Coronation Road. Walking beneath the trees, Harland turned left and led them out across the old footbridge. They gazed down, through the rusty iron latticework with its peeling red and white paint, to the silted brown river that crawled below.

  On the far side, they went right, following the road as it hugged the north bank of the river, sweeping round in a gentle, tree-lined arc. They spoke little at first, sensing how fragile things might be between them, aware of how little they knew each other.

  Ahead of them stood an old corner pub at the end of a three-storey terrace. A covered Georgian balcony, supported by slender ironwork legs, wrapped around the curved face of the first floor, hinting at the beauty of its heyday.

  ‘I love those old verandas.’ Kim smiled as she gazed up at it. ‘There’s something very romantic about them.’

  ‘You see a few of them around the older parts of the city,’ Harland noted. ‘Come on, let’s cross over here.’

  They left the main road and walked down a brick-paved lane that ran along the edge of one of the smaller harbour basins. Stepping in and out of the shade, beneath the trees that lined the quayside, they gazed out at the moored yachts and narrowboats, their reflections shimmering gently on the water.

  ‘This really is beautiful,’ Kim murmured. She looked serene in the sunlight. ‘You’re lucky to live next door to all this.’

  Harland smiled to himself. He’d not thought of himself as ‘lucky’ for a long time. And yet …

  ‘So much prettier than Salisbury,’ she added.

  ‘Is that where you’re from?’ he asked. ‘Originally, I mean?’

  It was a bad policeman’s habit, always questioning. He scolded himself silently, b
ut she didn’t seem to mind.

  ‘Salisbury? No, I’m from Taunton.’ She shook her head slightly. ‘I don’t know which of them I like least.’

  ‘I’ve been to Taunton a couple of times.’ Harland shrugged. ‘It wasn’t that bad.’

  ‘You didn’t have to grow up there.’

  ‘Not a fun place, then?’

  ‘It’s not that …’ Kim hesitated, then sighed. ‘I was just glad to leave.’

  She looked troubled now. Had he said the wrong thing? Touched a nerve?

  They walked on in silence until they came to the end of the quay where the footpath turned to follow a narrow inlet channel. A footbridge led across to a sea of wooden tables outside the Ostrich pub – a few already occupied even though it was early – but they stayed on the cobblestones that led back to the main waterway.

  ‘Sorry,’ Kim said after a moment. ‘I didn’t mean to— I just have some bad associations with Taunton.’

  ‘OK.’ He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Should he ask? Or just shut up for a moment and let her tell him if she needed to?

  She seemed to sense his uncertainty, glancing up at him, then turning away to look out across the water.

  ‘My father finally walked out on us when I was ten,’ she said softly. ‘After that I never really liked the place very much.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that.’

  She managed a brief smile as they turned and walked back towards the centre of town.

  ‘What about you?’ she asked, her voice brightening a little as she changed the subject.

  Harland looked down at the ground and smiled.

  ‘My father was in the police,’ he shrugged. ‘We lived in a few different places when I was growing up. A bit of time in London, a bit of time here.’

  ‘Any brothers or sisters?’

  ‘Only child,’ Harland told her. ‘But don’t worry, I’m remarkably well adjusted, considering.’

  Kim nodded to herself.

  ‘There were times, growing up, when I wished I was an only child,’ she reflected.

  They walked on towards the towering grey dock cranes that stood dark against the clear blue sky.

  ‘You’ve just got the one sister.’ Harland frowned. ‘Sarah, right?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Kim smiled up at him. ‘Nice to see you’ve been listening.’

  Harland inclined his head to her modestly.

  ‘And she still lives in Taunton?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kim replied. ‘Technically, it’s my house. We lived together for a few years. It’s not a very big place, but when I moved out, she and her partner were able to spread out a bit.’

  ‘Where did you live after that?’ The moment he said it, he knew it was the wrong thing to ask.

  Kim slowed, looking down at her feet before glancing up at him from behind her hair.

  ‘I moved in with Rob,’ she said, a strange tone creeping into her voice. Fear? Or something else?

  They stood there for an uneasy moment, until he reached forward and took her hands in his.

  ‘It’ll be all right,’ he promised her. ‘We’ll get him. I’ll speak to the Met again, maybe start looking into it myself – quietly – until I find something that we can use, some way to take him down.’

  She stared up at him, managing a brave little smile. So troubled, but so beautiful.

  ‘Can we talk about something else?’ she said softly.

  Harland gazed into her eyes a little longer, then nodded.

  ‘I just want you to know that you’re safe now, OK?’

  She didn’t speak – just looked up at him and squeezed his hand.

  He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Somehow that thought lifted him, and he found that he was smiling.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let me show you around.’

  They walked across the swing bridge near the Arnolfini building, pausing to look along the old dockside with its cranes and warehouse buildings to a distant terrace of multicoloured houses on the hill overlooking the river.

  ‘I often come down here,’ Harland told her. ‘There are some beautiful spots around the old harbour.’

  He pointed out towards the curved facade of a building across the water.

  ‘If you go along that way, there’s a path that takes you right along the riverside …’

  He stopped and turned to look at her ruefully.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m doing all the talking. And don’t feel you have to be dragged along – tell me if you want to stop somewhere.’

  ‘No, it’s OK.’ The uneasiness had passed, and she seemed happy again. ‘We can keep going.’

  They followed the cobblestone quayside around the side of the Arnolfini and walked out onto the gentle arch of Pero’s Bridge. Halfway across, a pair of buskers were playing a beautiful rendition of ‘Ave Maria’ – one on violin, the other on cello – and Kim held back a little to hear them finish.

  ‘You too?’ Harland said softly, as she brought a hand up to touch her chest.

  She nodded. ‘I’ve always loved that piece of music.’

  On the far side of the bridge, they wove their way through the sounds and smells of the Watershed market, stopping to sample olives from a quayside vendor before they emerged from the covered walkway and turned left onto Park Street. As they came to the foot of the hill, Kim pointed at a large mural painted on the plain end wall of a building.

  ‘Is that a Banksy?’ she asked.

  ‘That’s right,’ Harland replied. He gazed up at the stencilled image: a life-sized open window, revealing an angry-looking man in a suit and a woman in her underwear standing behind him while her naked lover hung by one hand from the window ledge.

  ‘Always makes me smile,’ he murmured. There was an odd excitement about seeing something so familiar with her beside him – like seeing it for the first time. He turned to face her. ‘Do you feel like a coffee? I know the perfect place …’

  They made their way up the hill, slowing now and again to nose in the little shop windows. Near the top, Harland stopped outside a cheerful-looking café.

  ‘What would you like?’ he asked her.

  ‘Um …’ Kim studied the menu in the window. ‘Just a cappuccino, please.’

  ‘OK. I won’t be a moment.’

  ‘There are seats inside,’ Kim frowned. ‘Aren’t we going in?’

  Pausing in the doorway, Harland looked over his shoulder at her.

  ‘This isn’t the place I meant,’ he said.

  Coffees in hand, they turned off Park Street and made their way up a steep side road. The pavement climbed suddenly, a flight of worn stone steps leading up to a raised section of aged flagstones. Below, garages and storerooms opened out onto the street, while on their right-hand side a stepped terrace of beautiful old townhouses marched down the hill. There were more of the covered balconies here, their ornate ironwork painted white and cascades of trailing plants hanging down above their heads. Kim gazed up at them as she walked, a faint smile on her lips.

  At the top of the incline the narrow street abruptly angled left and sloped down into the city again, but a set of steps led on into a park. They made their way up, passing under the shadow of some old-established trees to emerge on a sloping pathway that wound steadily higher as it curved round the side of an open, grassy hill.

  To their right, trees and bushes circled the summit, where a sturdy stone tower stood proud and tall against the sky, but Harland followed the path on until it broadened out into a flat area on a lower crest. Here, high above the city, a line of benches sat at the top of a long slope, gazing out across the tiny streets and houses and on towards the far green hills and the horizon.

  ‘Oh!’ Kim walked over to the edge. ‘What a view!’

  ‘This is the place I was talking about,’ he smiled.

  She stood there for a moment, sipping her coffee and gazing out into the distance. Behind her, Harland reached into his pocket and drew out his cigarette packet, then frowned and put them away again.


  Not now. If they were going to kiss, he didn’t want the taste of smoke to put her off. He moved forward to stand at her side. Sunlight glittered on the leaves of the trees below the glorious blue sky.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ he asked. ‘Better than the café, isn’t it?’

  She smiled and slipped her small hand into his.

  46

  He was being so sweet. Standing here, on this grassy hill with the whole of the city spread out below them, she felt oddly free. Squeezing his hand, she saw his face break instantly into a smile.

  So honest. So unguarded. So opposite to everything she’d known before.

  She turned back to stare out across the city – the sloping streets, the sturdy old buildings, the colourful houses. It felt welcoming, inviting.

  But it wasn’t home.

  With Rob still out there, it was hard to think of anywhere as home.

  She took a couple of steps and sat down on one of the benches. Graham stood a moment longer, and she glanced across at him – a lean silhouette against the bright sky. He was a good person – she felt sure of that now. At first, she’d been wary of his offer to stay, waiting for him to make a pass or try and take advantage of her, especially after the way she’d behaved that first, drunken evening. But the pass had never come. She knew he wanted her, but he’d seemed content simply to hold her when he found her in his bed the following night. He made her feel safe.

  She bowed her head and sighed. It wasn’t right. She should really find her own place before things went too far. Before she screwed things up. Before he got hurt.

  ‘You should see the sunsets from up here.’ He was speaking again and she raised her head to look at him as he stared out at some distant memory. ‘It’s like sitting on the edge of the world.’

  ‘Graham?’

  Something in her tone of voice must have warned him. He turned and looked at her, doubt clouding his face.

  ‘You’ve been really good to me,’ she began. The fact that he really had made her feel even worse.

  ‘That’s all right.’ He was guarded now, wary of what was coming next.