Dead End

by Dead End (retail) (epub)

  ‘Why didn’t she want me, Linda? Why?’ he pleaded.

  She went to him and held him, and he allowed it. They sank to the floor, and he let the pain flow out of him in great heaves. The noise of the searching police officers outside and a distant chirp of late-spring birds penetrated the silence.

  ‘I’m sorry, Zac. I’m so sorry. Your grandmother didn’t think your mother would be able to cope on her own, and that’s why she went too. They loved you so very much, darling child.’ She rocked him.

  ‘I miss him.’ Zac’s words came between sobs, and he wiped his nose on his sleeve. ‘I’m sorry, Linda,’ he said.

  ‘Hush, Zac. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,’ Linda comforted him, wishing that her own son had a fraction of the boy’s humility.

  ‘So she went a bit crazy?’ It seemed so long ago, and so irrelevant, but to Zac, Linda knew, it was everything.

  ‘Yes, my love. There was nothing anyone could do,’ she said.

  ‘Did they really die in a car crash?’

  ‘Yes, my love. When we got the news, your grandfather locked himself away for days; you were the only one he’d let in. No one knows who was driving, but it doesn’t matter now.’ She lied again, easily, as she’d learned.

  ‘It’s all my fault!’ He buried his head again.

  ‘No! You must never think that. Zac, look at me.’ She forced his head up. ‘If there’s one thing your grandfather would want you to do, it is to live! Do what none of them could ever do. Lead a proper life, find a wife, have a beautiful family. That’s how to make it count, my love. You have to live. You need to take the money and leave this place. Spread your wings, and experience something different. Come back when you’re ready, but not before.’ She meant every word.

  ‘But the lake, the fells; I could never leave.’ His voice wasn’t totally convincing.

  ‘You can. These hills are going nowhere, and that lake has been there since God was a lad.’ She cuddled him, and he rested in her arms. He was over six feet tall, but he’d needed to be held, to be wanted and, yes, babied. She’d seen with her own eyes that his grandmother hadn’t wanted to go. She was simply doing her duty and looking after her daughter. It would’ve been easier to stay, but would have resulted in more harm in the end. They’d all done it for him. Out of love and protection.

  ‘Why don’t you go out fishing, love?’ Linda smiled. ‘Bring me a couple of trout, and I’ll do them with buttered potatoes.’

  He tried to smile, but it was half-hearted. ‘I’m sorry I was rude to you and Brian.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be daft. You’ve been through more than most, young Zachary. I just wish it’d been me that found him rather than you.’ She looked away and tears stung her eyes.

  They sat in silence on the kitchen floor for a long time, each in their own thoughts. It was a curious sight: an elderly woman and a strapping teen resting amiably, propped up against the warm Aga.

  ‘I think I will go fishing, Linda,’ he said finally. ‘Maybe the police will be gone when I get back. I’m sick and tired of them.’

  ‘Good lad. I’ll make you a packed lunch,’ she said, and went to get up. She was stiff, and Zac helped her.

  ‘Will you take your key back?’ he asked.

  ‘With pleasure, my love,’ she replied.

  She fetched bread from the larder and carved it generously, spreading it with butter and home-made chicken liver pâté. She wrapped the sandwiches in foil, picked an orange and an apple out of the fruit bowl, and then made a flask of tea. She yearned for an end to the heartache. She’d watched it for twenty years, and it’d taken its toll. It had destroyed her own marriage, and cut dead any relationships she’d tried since, except with Brian. But that was different: he was shackled to the Fitzgeralds as much as she. It needed to end, but not with Zachary. She’d die before that happened. He had to be set free at all costs. She’d promised. Zachary mustn’t be tainted; he was too pure, too innocent, and enough sacrifices had been made. She’d tolerate no more. It was too late for Dominic, she knew that more than anything.

  Zachary took the lunch from her. They embraced.

  ‘You’ll have to take your bike.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘See you later.’ His face was less tense than before, and Linda felt as though she’d helped the lad.

  She waved him off, and watched as the police stopped him at the gate. As she turned to go back inside, she stopped. Somebody was in the kitchen.

  ‘Brian? Is that you?’ she called.

  Chapter 53

  Zachary felt more relaxed than he had since before Grandpa died. His conversation with Linda had cleared the air, and his head. Grandpa’s death had brought back his anxiety borne of abandonment. He’d been plagued by it for most of his life, but had only articulated it recently with the help of a psychiatrist. Grandpa had picked up the bill, but they’d never discussed it. That would have been insensitive to his grandfather.

  He pushed the boat out onto the lake and hopped in. The surface was calm, but there was a breeze, so the trout might still be biting. The storm had kicked up the mineral-rich silt, and a frenzy of renewed life had ensued. He pulled the outboard motor to get her going and made his way to his favourite spot. The lake was busy, and he navigated around kayakers, anglers, rowing boats and steamers. Word was it would be closed again for the weekend, so people were making the most of it while they could. They must be looking for those girls again, Zac thought. He stopped near a shady patch, close to the far shore. There was no access to the shoreline by car, so the day trippers stayed away. Rocks created a swirl below, which the trout loved.

  He cast his first line, and waited. He thought about Linda, and what she’d said. He’d made his mind up to drop out of college. Too many people asked too many questions and no one respected his space. He learned more when he took himself off alone to paint. Maybe he should travel somewhere remote. The thoughts came and went as he pulled his line in and cast again. A bite. He was accomplished enough to know a bite from a tangle, and he got ready to do battle. Sure enough, after about a minute, the head of a brown trout popped up. The tail flapped about at the surface, creating ripples that travelled under the boat and all about it. Zac smiled broadly as he pitted his wits against the beast.

  He won, and it was a beauty. It must be four pounds in weight, he thought. He held the slippery catch with his left hand as he threaded the hook back out, without hurting the fish too much. He threw it into his bag, where it wriggled and fought for air. It’d make a great meal, and Linda would be thrilled. He smiled, and pulled his hat up to wipe his brow.

  At one o’clock, Zac reeled in, placed his rod on the bottom of the boat beside him and opened his rucksack. He chomped on Linda’s pâté sandwiches and washed them down with tea from the flask.

  By the time his engine delivered him back to shore, he had a booty of three fish. He’d invite Brian tonight; he was owed an apology too. As he cycled back to the house and through the gates, he was relieved that the police had gone. Linda’s bike was still propped up against the shed.

  The door was open, but the kitchen was full of smoke. The Aga kettle had ceased to whistle, and instead was throwing out ugly thick geysers of black air. Zac grabbed a towel, pulled the kettle off the hotplate and threw it noisily into the sink, where it smashed against the ceramic. He opened the windows and started wafting the toxic air outside.

  ‘Linda!’ he shouted.

  He heard nothing. Perhaps the events of this morning had got to her too, and she’d suffered a rare moment of forgetfulness. Either that, or she was getting old. They’d laugh about it later. He set about emptying his rucksack. He’d already gutted the fish and so they went straight into the fridge. The thick air hadn’t yet cleared, and it smelled caustic and oily.

  He realised he was tired, and ran his fingers through his hair. He yawned. He’d run himself a bath, and by then, Linda should be back, ready to make supper. She must have gone shopping, walking for the exercise, forgetting about the kettle.<
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  She wasn’t back after his bath, so he flicked on the TV and browsed the channels for something decent to watch. His tummy rumbled.

  He had no idea what time it was when he woke up, but it was dark. He must’ve been asleep for a good few hours. His neck ached and the TV flashed colours that confused him, until he remembered where he was. He focused and sat up. His watch said 7.45 p.m. He got up lazily, still weary, and ventured into the kitchen. The windows and doors were still open, and it was freezing. He quickly shut them and looked in the fridge; the fish hadn’t been touched.

  ‘Linda!’ Still no answer.

  He found Grandpa’s tattered old list of phone numbers, still in the kitchen drawer where he’d kept it, and dialled Linda’s home phone number. No answer. Next he tried Brian’s mobile. It was answered straight away.

  ‘Linda?’ Brian said.

  ‘No, Brian, it’s Zac.’

  ‘Oh. How can I help?’ Brian asked. Their last meeting sat heavily between them.

  ‘I can’t find Linda anywhere, I went fishing and we were going to have tea together, but her bike’s still here and she hasn’t been back. There’s no answer at her cottage either.’ Zac’s voice was pinched with panic.

  ‘I know. I’ve been trying all afternoon,’ Brian said.

  ‘That’s odd. She was absolutely adamant that we were going to eat together. I … I apologised to her, Brian, and I owe the same to you,’ said Zac.

  ‘Nah, don’t worry, lad. You’ve a lot on. I’ll come and do your garden when you’re good and ready.’

  ‘Thank you. Have you seen her at all today? Did she have an appointment that she might have forgotten about?’ Zac was concerned, and it was odd for Brian not to have seen her either.

  ‘No, I haven’t seen her. It’s not like her to break a promise, though,’ Brian added.

  ‘Do you think we should be worried?’ Zac asked.

  ‘Look,’ Brian said. ‘I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll walk around the village and check the shop. Leave it with me, she’ll turn up.’

  But Zac thought Brian’s confidence was a brave facade; he sounded worried too. He hung up and paced up and down.

  Abandonment.

  She didn’t mean any of what she said to you today. It was all lies and now she’s gone and you’ll never see her again, just like all the others who hated you.

  Anxiety returned.

  When the phone rang again, he was biting his nails and peering out into the night.

  ‘Brian?’

  ‘Yes, lad, it’s me. I haven’t found her yet.’

  ‘Should we call the police?’

  ‘Slow down. I’ll ring them and ask their advice. They might have, you know, a minimum time that you have to wait before reporting someone missing. She could’ve gone to see a friend.’ Brian was unconvincing.

  ‘But she would’ve told you, Brian. I know what’s going on between you two, I’m not stupid.’

  ‘I’ll call you back,’ Brian said, hanging up.

  Zac sat by the phone in the kitchen with the lights out. When the phone rang again, he answered it before it had a chance to go to second ring.

  ‘Brian?’

  ‘Yes, it’s me, lad. I’ve reported her missing. A police officer will be round in the morning to see you. I’ll come over at eight so I’m with you when they arrive.’

  ‘Is that it? No one goes and looks now?’ Zac felt close to tears.

  ‘No, lad, that’s not how it works. Linda’s a responsible adult. There’s no reason to panic at this stage. Go to bed. She’ll be fine. You’ll see.’

  But Zac didn’t go to bed.

  Instead he called Detective Kelly Porter.

  Chapter 54

  ‘I can’t, Johnny, I’m busy,’ Kelly said into her mobile phone, which was under her chin. He’d asked to meet up, but she had a million and one things to do, not least working out how to break the news to Zac. She was outside Eden House and the noise of the traffic made the phone call more irritating.

  ‘Kelly, just turn around.’

  She stopped walking and looked up, and there on the other side of the road, holding a bunch of flowers and a bag that she could see contained something with a cork, was Johnny. He walked towards her. Kelly put her phone into her bag and waited, completely thrown.

  ‘Johnny, what are you doing?’ she asked when he’d crossed the road.

  ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures, Kelly. I’m kidnapping you, just for the evening. Don’t look so scared, it’s called a date,’ he said. She rolled her eyes.

  ‘I can’t,’ she said.

  ‘Why? What have you got to do at eight o’clock in the evening?’

  She didn’t know what to say. She had data to input, she had results to wait for, she had phone calls to make to people who wouldn’t be in their offices, she had emails to write to people who would also not be in their offices, and she had brooding to do. It was lame. Her mouth opened and shut. Sentry was still out there. Dominic was nowhere to be found and no new leads on the girls had been forthcoming. Eden House was empty at her instruction. There was nothing more to do for the day and she had to accept it.

  ‘Look, will you just spend a couple of hours with me? You’ve been distant lately. I don’t know why; I hope it’s not me. I know your office is empty – yes, I’ve been stalking you – and I know that everyone has gone home. I know you want to find those girls, Kelly, and you will. But not tonight.’

  Kelly lowered her head and pushed her ponytail around. Her jaw jutted to one side. She looked up at him.

  ‘I love that face. It makes me more determined.’

  ‘All right, but only for a couple of hours. Where are we going?’

  ‘It’s a secret.’

  They walked to her car and got in. He directed her to the Penrith and Lakes Hospital. It wasn’t the romantic destination she’d hoped for, but he told her to bear with him. She parked in the car park, and they got out. Johnny waved his hand and Kelly looked behind her. A rescue helicopter was sitting on the tarmac, its blades whirring, as if ready for flight.

  ‘Come on,’ he said.

  ‘What have you done?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m owed a few favours. I like to save them up.’ He took her hand and led her to the chopper. They got in. On the floor was a basket, and Johnny told her to strap in. The pilot turned around and smiled. Kelly was floored.

  They flew north at first, and Kelly could see Carlisle and further still to Scotland. Then they took a sharp left and circled back to Cumbria. The sky was turning a deep red, and she held her breath. Johnny popped a cork and told her to hold two glasses. She did so, and allowed herself to relax. The pilot didn’t speak. They flew south-west, and she could see Blencathra and Skiddaw, framed by a deep purple sky. They sipped the champagne, then Johnny opened the basket and produced smoked salmon bagels. They sat close together and Kelly felt the fizz get into her bloodstream. It loosened her up, and she thought less of her fear and more of the moment.

  ‘What will I do with the car?’ she asked.

  ‘There is such a thing as cabs, Kelly. I’ve got one booked to take us to my place afterwards – if you want to, of course,’ he added. She smiled. She didn’t really know why she’d pushed him away, but she found it silly now.

  They flew over Derwent Water and Bassenthwaite. From the air, they were staggeringly beautiful. A warm feeling spread through her, and Johnny said they should open the second bottle. She agreed. Still the pilot didn’t say a word; it was as if he wasn’t there. Johnny had briefed him well.

  ‘Have you ever done this before, Johnny?’

  ‘Never.’ She moved closer to him, and they looked out of the window. Grey sky was descending quickly, casting shadows and making the colours deeper. Silver sunlight poked over the horizon, fighting for a chance to last just a little bit longer. The Irish Sea looked like a cloud, and they could make out rain coming down in sheets over the water. Closer, to the south, the mountains rolled away beneath them like a crumpled tab
lecloth, dotted with slivers of dark blue.

  As the helicopter swung left, Kelly caught a glimpse of the horizon again, and the sun disappearing beneath it. Dark blue and black sat above them, and she listened to the sounds of the blades fighting through the air and felt the warmth of Johnny’s body next to her. She let go of everything that constricted her from the shoulders down and leant her head against his chest. She smelled his scent and allowed him to kiss her forehead. She stared out of the window and felt the tension leave her body.

  When they landed, they were silent. The pilot shut down the chopper and they packed up reluctantly. As Johnny had promised, a cab waited for them in the car park, and they were driven back towards Pooley Bridge.

  ‘Thank you,’ Kelly said.

  The roads were quiet, and in ten minutes they were outside Johnny’s house. Kelly had almost been asleep. Johnny paid the driver and they carried everything to his doorstep.

  Once inside, he stopped. Something wasn’t right.

  Josie was sitting watching TV.

  ‘Josie! What are you doing here?’ he said. Kelly looked at him, and back to his daughter.

  ‘I’ve left home, Dad, I’m moving in with you,’ said the girl, eyeing Kelly.

  ‘Aren’t you going to say hello to Kelly?’

  ‘Hello, Kelly.’ It was dripping with defiance. She was a handful.

  Kelly didn’t hear much more after that. She backed away towards the door, and Johnny spread his hands open in a shrug. He wanted her help, but she was the last person to look to for advice on stroppy teenagers. He folded his arms and rubbed his chin. Kelly felt for him, but she wasn’t about to get embroiled in the problems of a thirteen-year-old. Josie had clearly fallen out with her mother, or wanted money, else she wouldn’t be here; and that wasn’t Kelly’s brief. She wanted no part of that particular jigsaw puzzle. She was adamant that she was leaving.

  ‘I’m sorry, Kelly,’ Johnny said.

  She smiled weakly and left. What had started out as a perfect antidote to her frustrations had ended up with deflation. It was a nice evening to walk the short distance through Pooley Bridge to her own house. She reckoned she’d go straight to bed.