The Silent Quarry
A DI Winter Meadows Mystery
Cheryl Rees-Price
The Silent Quarry is the first in the DI Winter Meadows series by Cheryl Rees-Price.
In 1987 a quiet Welsh village was devastated by a brutal attack on two schoolgirls, Bethan Hopkins and Gwen Collier. Only Gwen survived, with horrific injuries and no memory of the attack. The killer was never caught.
Now, nearly thirty years later, Gwen has gone missing and DI Winter Meadows is assigned to the case. Charismatic and intuitive, he has an uncanny gift for finding the truth. But in this small and close-knit community, the past is never far away, and those who have secrets will go to any lengths to keep them. Tensions run high as old feelings and accusations are stirred. And Meadows has to battle his own demons as he uncovers a truth he wished had stayed in the past …
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Cheryl Rees-Price
Chapter One
1987
Gwen felt her foot slip, her body tilted backwards as the object she held in her hand fell from her grasp and clattered against the cliff face before falling into the depths below.
I'm going to die.
She could see the leaden grey clouds drifting across the sky as drops of rain fell on her face. There was no sound other than her heartbeat ringing in her ears. Adrenalin pumped through her body, kicking her brain into survival mode. She flailed her arms, trying to grasp at anything that would stop her falling, but only air swished through her fingers.
Time slowed as gravity pulled her down, she was falling, the air whistling through her hair. Fear froze her thoughts. She closed her eyes and waited for the impact.
Gwen became aware of her body, weighted down in the darkness, and struggled to grasp thoughts through the dense fog in her mind. Her senses felt dulled; there was no sound, taste or feel. Something was trying to pull her up from the darkness but she didn’t want to leave, it was safe here. As she allowed herself to sink into oblivion a noise filtered through, pulling her back. She concentrated on the faint rhythmic bleeping in the distance. As the bleeping became clearer the darkness changed hue from black to brown, then became lighter; an amber glow. She opened her eyes and a blurred figure appeared muttering soothing sounds. The bleeping sound grew clearer, now matching the strumming of her heart. She blinked until the face of a nurse came into focus.
‘Hello, pet,’ the nurse smiled down at her.
Gwen tried to speak but her tongue lay thick and heavy in her mouth. She inched her head off the pillow and looked around. She was covered in a white sheet. Wires ran from her chest to a monitor. One arm was weighted down with a cast and a drip stood next to the bed emptying fluid into the other arm. Her gaze travelled down to her right leg, which was elevated and surrounded with a metal brace. She could just make out the rods protruding from her skin. Revulsion crawled at her skin and she felt bile rise in her throat. She struggled to sit up and pain stabbed at her ribs. What happened to me? Panic constricted her throat. The sound from the monitor increased with her rapid heartbeat.
‘Take it easy, honey,’ the nurse soothed. ‘Come now, I’ll help you sit up.’
Gwen allowed the nurse to help her into a sitting position then watched as she took a glass from the bedside table and filled it with water from a jug.
‘Try to sip slowly.’ The nurse held the glass to Gwen’s lips.
The cool liquid soothed the soreness in her mouth and freed her tongue. ‘Why am I here?’ The words came out in a croak.
A worried expression flitted across the nurse’s face but she quickly forced a smile. ‘The doctor will come along and have a chat with you shortly. Try to rest now. Don’t look so worried, you’re perfectly safe here. Just press the buzzer if you need me.’
The nurse walked away, leaving Gwen alone. She let her head fall back against the pillow. She wanted to stay awake and find out what was going on but her eyes stung with fatigue and a heaviness spread through her body. She closed her eyes and sank back into the darkness.
‘Gwenny, Gwenny love, can you hear me?’
Mum. Gwen opened her eyes. Her mother sat next to the bed, tears streaming down her face. ‘They called to tell me you’d woken up. I came straight away.’
Gwen stared at her mother. She looks thin and what’s she done to her hair? She never lets her roots show. How long have I been in here? She felt her lips tremble as confusion and fear constricted her throat.
‘Oh, my poor darling.’ Her mother stood and leant over the bed, gently cradling Gwen in her arms.
‘Hello, Gwen, I’m Dr Powell.’
Gwen peered over her mother’s shoulders and saw a portly, bespectacled man in a white coat. A smile crinkled his eyes as he moved closer to the bed. Her mother straightened up and sat back on the chair before taking a tissue from her handbag and wiping her eyes.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.
How do you think I feel? I’ve woken up in hospital with my arm and leg in plaster. Everything hurts and nobody’s explained what happened. Moron. ‘OK, I guess.’
‘Good. Now, I just want to check you over and then we’ll have a little chat.’ Dr Powell checked Gwen’s blood pressure and reflexes before shining a torch into her eyes.
‘Everything looks fine, I think she’ll soon be on her feet and you can take her home, Sue.’ He smiled at her mother.
Sue? How does he know my mum?
Dr Powell turned his attention back to his patient. ‘Now, Gwen, can you tell me what day it is today?’
Gwen chewed her lip in concentration. ‘Um, Wednesday, I think.’
‘And the date.’
‘Twentieth of May, 1987.’
Sue gasped and took her daughter’s hand. ‘It’s July, darling, you’ve been asleep since …’ She looked at the doctor then back to Gwen. ‘For a few weeks.’
‘But that can’t be …’ Gwen’s mind raced as she tried to pick through memories.
Dr Powell pulled up a chair beside the bed. ‘Please don’t be alarmed. Temporary amnesia is quite common following a head trauma.’
Gwen touched the side of her head and felt the spiky regrowth of hair. ‘My hair!’ she shrieked. ‘You’ve cut off my hair.’
‘I’m sorry, Gwen, we had no choice. We had to operate to relieve the pressure on your brain. It’ll grow back.’ He smiled and patted her hand.
‘But I don’t understand.’ Gwen fought to control the rising panic. ‘Did I have an accident?’
‘What’s the last thing you remember before waking up here?’
Why doesn’t he just answer the question? Gwen turned her head away and stared at the glass on the bedside table as her vision blurred with tears.
‘Do you want some water, darling?’ Sue stood, filled the glass from the jug and handed it to Gwen. Gwen sipped the water slowly as she searched her memory
. Everything appeared clouded like she was watching an out-of-focus film. Pain stabbed at her temples. ‘The bus. I was on the school bus with Beth. We were sat in the front and were talking about my birthday. Did the bus crash?’
‘No –’ her mum began.
‘It’s better that it comes back to you naturally,’ Dr Powell cut in. ‘Give it a few days.’
‘Exactly how long have I been here?’ asked Gwen.
Her mum looked at Dr Powell who nodded his head.
‘Since the twenty-first of June.’
‘But it’s only May.’ Gwen felt tears sting her eyes.
‘It’s OK, love,’ Sue soothed. ‘I’m sure it’ll all come back to you. Try not to think about it now, you have to rest and concentrate on getting well.’
After the doctor and her mum left, Gwen rested her head against the pillow. She strained her mind to remember but nothing surfaced. Not a bus crash, then what? And what did the nurse mean by being perfectly safe here?
The days blended into each other as Gwen attended physiotherapy and counselling. Her mother came in every day and some of her school friends and teachers came to visit but there was no sign of her best friend Beth. Gwen went through all scenarios in her mind, but none made any sense, the one thing she was sure of is that Beth was somehow involved, she was her best friend and the only reason she wouldn’t visit is if she had been injured herself. Gwen had tried searching the other wards in the hospital for Beth and had given up asking questions. She saw pity in the eyes of her visitors but no one gave a hint of what had happened, they just chatted away with forced cheerfulness.
At the end of the second week her mum arrived earlier than her usual visiting time, together with Gwen’s Uncle David. Both looked tense as her mum took a seat and fiddled with her handbag. Uncle David hovered at the head of the bed. Gwen felt her body stiffen.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, love.’ Her mum glanced at David then forced a smile. ‘Dr Powell will be along in a moment, he wants to talk about your progress.’
‘What’s there to talk about? I still can’t remember a sodding thing.’
‘Gwen! There’s no need to use that language,’ Sue scolded.
‘Well, what do you expect? I’ve been stuck in here for weeks. No one will tell me what happened and Beth hasn’t bothered to come and see me. I’m pissed off!’ Gwen folded her arms across her chest and glared at her mother.
Dr Powell entered the room and approached the bed. ‘I hear you are making good progress with the physiotherapy on your arm and leg,’ he smiled. ‘I also understand that despite the intensive counselling you haven’t had any recall of your memory. I understand your frustration but with this type of amnesia it could take months or years before you recover your memory. There’s also the possibility that this missing period of time may never be recovered.’ He looked at Sue and nodded.
‘Gwenny, love, you were attacked.’ Sue paused and drew in a steadying breath. ‘You were up the quarry with Beth.’
‘When? I don’t understand. We were on the school bus. That’s the last thing I remember.’ Gwen heard her voice quiver; she suddenly felt afraid but didn’t understand why. ‘Are you saying Beth attacked me?’ That explains why she hasn’t come to see me, but why would she do such a thing?
‘No, both you and Beth were attacked.’ David spoke from the bottom of the bed.
‘By who?’
‘We don’t know.’ Sue twisted her hands around each other. ‘The police want to talk to you, they were hoping that you’d remember.’
‘Is Beth OK?’ Gwen felt a chill pass over her body and pulled the sheet up to her chin.
Tears filled her mum’s eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, love. Beth didn’t make it. She was already dead when they found her.’
‘No!’
Gwen heard a high-pitched shriek and it took her a moment to realise that she was the one making it.
Chapter Two
2015
Gwen stood in the shower and felt the water pound her sore head like hailstones. Shouldn’t have drunk so much last night, she thought as she took the bar of soap and worked up a lather. As she rubbed her hands over her body she felt the familiar contusions of the scars that ran down her right arm and leg, where the surgeons had operated to repair her shattered bones. They were a constant reminder that somewhere in the depths of her mind lay a memory too horrific to surface.
She finished washing, then vigorously dried her body before leaving the bathroom. Blue, her Siberian husky, was waiting outside the door, his tail swishing through the air.
‘Morning, boy.’ She patted his head. ‘Looks like it’s just you and me awake.’
In the bedroom she looked at Matt, her husband, lying on his back in bed, his mouth hanging open as snores filled the room. I might as well live with a warthog. Irritation crawled at her skin as she observed him. His hair had thinned, revealing the pink scalp beneath, and the bulge of his stomach was visible beneath the sheets. And you still think you’re a stud. The only thing you’d pull these days is a drunken slapper or one of the checkout girls who thinks she’ll make supervisor. Pathetic. Gwen scowled at the slumbering form and turned away. Last night’s party had been Matt’s idea; she never cared much about celebrating her birthday. Just another excuse for him to get plastered and flirt. She pulled the curtains roughly and let the sunlight illuminate the room. Matt grunted and turned onto his side.
‘I guess it’s me who has to deal with the mess downstairs,’ she hissed. She pulled on a pair of cropped jeans and a vest before plugging in the dryer and running it over her blonde hair. Matt still hadn’t stirred so she slammed the bedroom door as she left the room. Downstairs she made a cup of tea and surveyed the scene. Overflowing ashtrays, empty bottles, and discarded cans stood among half-eaten plates of food. She took a few deep breaths and felt the irritation thaw. Blue danced around her feet so she opened the back door for him, then set about cleaning the kitchen.
‘It was a good night.’ Matt ambled into the kitchen two hours later, hair dishevelled and stubble covering his chin.
‘It was OK.’ Gwen pulled the plates from the dishwasher and stacked them in the cupboard. ‘It would’ve been nice to have some help to clean up.’
‘You should’ve woken the kids.’ Matt yawned as he poured boiling water into a mug and added a teabag. ‘I think I’ll lie on the sofa for a while. My head is killing me. That’s what Sundays are for.’ He winked and slouched into the living room.
‘Yeah, if you’re a man. One of us has to cook the Sunday roast.’ Gwen popped two painkillers into her mouth before filling a bucket with water and mopping the floor. Alex, her seventeen-year-old soon surfaced; he padded across the wet floor and made himself a piece of toast before mumbling something incoherent and joining his father. Gwen had yet to master teenage boys’ mumble language and conversations with her son were a rarity. Ariana was last to emerge. Gwen’s once pink-loving ballerina daughter had turned fifteen and morphed into the princess of darkness. Long black hair hung over eyes barely visible beneath heavy eyeliner. Black clothes decorated by skulls were topped off with a lip piercing.
‘Morning, love.’ Gwen smiled.
‘Morning.’ Ariana sat at the kitchen table, brooding.
‘Got any plans today?’
‘No, I have to do homework.’
I wouldn’t like to be a teenager again. Gwen thought. All that trying to fit in with the popular girls. Heartache over boys and parents that don’t understand you. Life is one big, dark abyss as a teenager. She smiled to herself as she watched Ariana send a text then glide into the living room to join the others.
The kitchen now restored to order, Gwen put a joint of meat into the oven, set the temperature, and grabbed Blue’s lead. The dog whined with excitement as she attached his collar.
‘I’m going out for a walk to clear my head,’ she called into the living room. No one took any notice so she grabbed her handbag and shut the door.
The May sun beat
down from a cloudless sky, bringing unseasonal warmth as she walked towards the park. The aspirin had taken away the worse of the headache and the fresh air cleared away the last of her irritation. Apart from the occasional car passing, all was quiet. As she approached the gate to the park her peace was shattered by the shouts and squeals of children playing on the swings. Gwen stopped and Blue sat down, panting.
‘Too hot for you today, isn’t it, boy?’ She ran her hands through his thick white fur. ‘What you need is a swim, but I don’t think I’ve got the energy to walk to the river today. Sorry.’
An image of a stream gently tumbling over rocks entered her mind. She felt her body tense. I can’t go up there. As she took another step towards the park, the image grew stronger. She could almost feel the cool water running over her feet and pictured Blue splashing around. Oh, why not, what’s there to be afraid of? She turned and walked in the opposite direction, Blue plodding alongside. She turned up Quarry Road, walked past the houses and the entrance to the disused quarry, then entered the archway of trees that led to the footpath.
At the gate she paused. I haven’t been up here since it happened, not even to see where they found Beth. As she stood lingering at the gate she wondered if the teenagers from the village walked the path. She imagined them daring each other to go through the gate and to the place where they found the dead girl. Stories would’ve been passed down from those who remembered the attack. I even forbid my own children to come here. An image of Beth stepping through the gate flashed across her mind. We used to come here all the time and hang around in that shack drinking and smoking. A melancholy mood settled over her as the image grew stronger and she pictured Beth in her tight jeans, long blonde curls bouncing off her shoulders as she walked.
Blue scratching at the gate brought Gwen to the present. ‘OK, let’s go.’
Gwen pushed open the gate and stepped through. As she took hesitant steps forward she felt her stomach twist with anxiety. Stop it. She could hear the stream now, and as her senses heightened she picked up other noises: birds flitting from branch to branch of the sycamore trees, snapping twigs as they went. She tried to relax as she followed the footpath down until there was a clearing in the trees. There she unclipped Blue’s lead and watched him bound towards the water. She followed him down the bank, took off her Crocs, and dipped her feet in the water, a gasp escaping her as the cold water stung her toes and sent a shiver up her body. She stepped back and found a large rock to sit on as she watched the dog swim. Pure pleasure lit up his eyes and Gwen couldn’t help smiling.
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