Lisa stared into Kirsty’s pale-grey eyes, and she realised that, if she was honest, she didn’t know what to do either.
‘What would Captain Poldark do?’ Lisa asked, and Ray looked up at her. She half expected him to laugh, but he didn’t.
‘He’d do the right thing,’ he said. ‘He’d protect the weak, even if it meant breaking the law.’
‘He’d get her to a place of safety, no matter what it cost him,’ Abby said. ‘And Demelza would help him.’
‘That’s right,’ Lisa said. ‘So we’ll do what Poldark would do. We’ll get her to Cornwall, to Bodmin – see if we can find this aunt of hers. We’ll do what Poldark would do. But look, Ray, Abby – if you want to quit now, then no one would blame you.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Abby said. ‘I haven’t had this much fun since I camped out in Olly Murs’s back garden. You know, if he’d only let me make him my baked beans special, I think we could have really bonded.’
‘OK,’ Ray said, ‘I’m in. It’s been a long time since I felt like I was doing something worthwhile.’
‘Thank you,’ Kirsty said. ‘Thank you so much, but there’s something I think I’ve got to tell you all …’
‘Something else?’ Lisa asked her. ‘What?’
‘I don’t even really like Poldark,’ Kirsty said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
********************
Location: Black Valley Camp and Caravan Site
Radio station: no reception
Track playing: none
Miles travelled: 427.8
Miles until Captain Poldark: 115.7
‘If you let me drive, we could be there tonight,’ Ray said to Lisa after they pulled into the campsite. Abby had taken Kirsty to the site office to pick up the keys to their caravan, which Lisa had booked in advance.
The afternoon had grown grey and cold, but that didn’t spoil the beauty of the view of the deep Devonshire countryside. Soft hills rolled into one another in one long embrace. Lisa leant against her Micra, breathing in the sense of space all around her. It had been a very long time since she had been this far out in the world … a long time since she felt like she could stretch out her arms without touching her own four walls. It was a good feeling.
‘The longer we’ve got her with us, the more likely it is that all of us are going to get into really serious trouble,’ Ray added. ‘I’m not backing out. I’m just saying. We all have to be aware of that. If you let me drive, we can get her the help she needs sooner.’
‘I can’t,’ Lisa said, tearing her eyes away from the view to look at him. She was still clutching her car keys. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘But why not?’ Ray asked her. ‘I’m not a “stranger from the Internet” anymore, am I? We know each other, you and me. You can tell that I’m an all right bloke, can’t you? Plus, I used to drive a tank. I’m pretty sure I can handle a hatchback. And the sooner we get to Bodmin tomorrow, the sooner we can try and find her aunt, and get her safe.’
‘No, you don’t get it,’ Lisa said. ‘I can’t let you drive my car, because … it’s my exit plan. My escape route. It’s my place where I can feel safe wherever I am. I need to know that it’s there for me. All the time. I can’t let you have the keys. I can’t let anyone have the keys. It’s like my four-wheeled, portable bomb shelter.’
Lisa looked down. A deep frown made a crease between her eyebrows. ‘I know how I sound. I know I sound crazy. When something really bad happens to you – something so bad that nothing you thought you knew seems right anymore – well, then, you do what you have to do to …’
‘Try and feel safe,’ Ray finished her sentence for her.
Lisa looked up at him. ‘You know what I’m talking about?’
Ray smiled. ‘Why do you think I’m living at my mum’s house, dressing up in costumes?’
Lisa returned the smile. ‘Because you’re a Poldark geek?’
‘Partly that, but partly because … when I was in the army I got used to living with constant danger. The next step you take might end in the click of a landmine. Or the next corner you turn might lead you into an ambush. Or that sweet-looking kid with the big eyes who looks so scared might actually try to kill you.
‘You live with it, every day. All the time. It gets under your skin like grime, only you can’t ever wash it away. And when you come home, you try to go back to a normal life, to being a normal person. But you are still waiting for the click of the landmine. You are still waiting for that kid to throw a grenade. You still feel like every single moment is full of danger.
‘I tried living on my own for a bit, but I wasn’t ready. So I went home to my mum, aged thirty-seven and six-foot-two-inches tall.’ He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘And I feel like a proper failure.’
‘You shouldn’t.’ Lisa reached out and touched his arm. ‘It’s not a failure to need your family. I still miss talking to my mum. Six years on and I still think of things I want to tell her.’
‘Mum welcomed me back with open arms,’ Ray said. ‘She always did love sorting me out. And then we started watching Poldark together on a Sunday night, and I really got into it. Joined the Poldarlings. Let everyone think I was a girl. Went on a road trip with a bunch of strangers. And now seem to be slightly on the run.’ He laughed, running his palms over his short hair. ‘But you know what? And this is really weird. It’s gone.’
‘What’s gone?’ Lisa asked.
‘That constant feeling of danger. It’s gone. When I’m with you, Lisa, I don’t feel it. You make me feel brave.’
Just at that moment there was a slight break in the low, dense cloud, and a beam of golden sun lit up the tops of the hills, setting them on fire, like beacons.
‘Well, I suppose I feel a bit more like my old self around you lot, too,’ Lisa said, looking down, because the way Ray was looking at her was confusing.
‘Lisa there’s something I …’
‘Bagsy I get the actual bedroom,’ Abby said, as she arrived back jangling keys from her fingers. ‘You lot can have the horrible benches.’ Abby unlocked the caravan door and all but threw herself inside, causing it to rock and tilt slightly.
‘Don’t you think Kirsty should get the bedroom?’ Lisa said. She doesn’t want to be sharing with us lot.’
‘I don’t mind,’ Kirsty said. ‘Really. Actually I prefer not to be alone.’
‘Well, in that case, Ray gets the bedroom,’ Lisa said. ‘We can have a girls’ sleepover. It will be fun.’
Abby sighed. ‘Fine. Anyway, I was thinking. What I could do is go down to those woods over there, catch a few rabbits, gut ’em, skin ’em, and cook ’em up for tea. What do you reckon?’
‘Or,’ Lisa said, ‘there was that fish and chip shop just a little way back down the road.’
‘Fish and chips,’ Ray and Kirsty said together.
‘This reminds me of holidays when I was a kid,’ Abby said.
They’d spent a happy half an hour eating chips from the paper in friendly silence, and she was the first to speak.
‘Every summer,’ she went on, ‘rain or shine. Mostly rain. Me, mum, dad and my three brothers. Six of us in a caravan built for four. Bloody hell, we used to argue, and kick the crap out of each other.’ She smiled fondly. ‘Good times, good times.’
‘Are you close to your family now?’ Lisa asked.
Abby looked away for a moment. ‘Not really. They never really got me, you know. After I started to have a bit of trouble with the old noggin.’ She tapped her forehead. ‘I lost it when I was a teenager, really bad. Got sectioned and everything. It was … a dark time.
‘I think I scared Mum, and we sort of lost touch after that. Even after I was diagnosed, and I started treatment, she never really wanted to hear from me. She always seemed to be out if I called. I’m pretty OK now, really. But I don’t think they see me any more, not that little kid who used to play Scrabble in a caravan. I think they just see the illness, even though most of the time I’m the sanest
person I know.’
She shrugged and smiled. ‘But I still see my youngest brother, Eddie. I see him a couple of times a month. Never really liked the other two anyway. They were always dickheads, even as kids.’
Lisa laughed. ‘Fine lot we are, aren’t we? When I think about it, we are exactly who they are talking about when they say don’t meet strangers from the Internet.’
‘Except we’re not strangers any more, are we?’ Ray said. ‘To friends from the Internet!’ He lifted his can of beer and the others returned the gesture, with their glasses and Coke cans.
FRIENDS.
The word glowed soft and golden when Ray said it out loud, and Lisa felt it warm her from the inside out. She had friends again, and she’d had no idea how much that mattered to her until that moment.
‘So tomorrow we get to Cornwall, to Bodmin,’ Lisa said. ‘The chatter on Poldarlings says they’ll be filming on the moor all this week. So, first things first. We try to find this café that Alison works in, and then … well then, we look for Captain Poldark!’
‘We snog the face off Aidan Turner, hey Ray?’ said Abby rubbing her hands together. ‘I reckon that once I’ve explained to him how he and I are meant to be together he will totally get it. That’s what I reckon. I just need to get him alone. Maybe in a locked room. Maybe with some gaffer tape …’
‘Abby,’ Lisa said sternly. ‘You can’t abduct Aidan Turner. You can ask him for an autograph – maybe even a photo or a peck on the cheek – but then you have to step away. Got it?’
‘Right, yes, got it,’ Abby said, winking at Kirsty as if she very much had not got it.
‘And if we see him – if we see them – what then?’ Lisa asked. ‘I mean we’ve come all this way. But none of us have really thought about what’s next after that, have we?’
‘A massive disco party,’ Abby said, ‘with slow dances at the end for smooching.’
‘I don’t know,’ Ray said, ‘but I hope, when this is done we will all feel like we’ve changed, somehow. Moved on a bit. And I really hope we all keep in touch.’
‘After I’ve married Aidan, and it’s been covered in Hello magazine, we’ll have you over to lunch,’ Abby said. ‘We won’t let fame change us.’
‘Girls,’ Ray said, pushing the last of his chips away from him, ‘I need to say something. We’ve all been sharing stories, and telling the truth about ourselves, being really honest. That’s meant a lot to me. I have to tell you all something.’
‘You’re not a girl, we know.’ Abby grinned. ‘Or wait! You are a girl?’
‘I’m not gay,’ Ray said simply. ‘To be fair, I never said I was. Lisa just assumed …’
Abby raised an eyebrow and looked at Lisa.
‘What do you mean?’ Lisa asked, her tone tense. ‘Are you saying you lied to me … us … again?’
‘No,’ Ray said. ‘I never said I was gay. You just thought it, and I felt a bit awkward about correcting you … I wanted to come on this trip. I really wanted to come, and I knew you’d feel happier with me being gay … so …’
‘Get out.’ Lisa stood up, or at least she tried to, but it was more of a stoop. Her thighs were trapped under the caravan table and her head was bowed by the low ceiling.
‘Lisa, come on … it’s still Ray,’ Abby said. ‘No harm done.’
‘No harm done?’ Lisa prised herself out from under the table, climbing over Abby’s legs. ‘Lots of harm done! You can’t ask someone to be your friend – to tell you stuff about themselves and to trust you – when you’re lying to them the whole time! There is no room for a liar on this trip.’
‘Everyone tells lies, now and again!’ Abby said. ‘So Ray’s not gay. So what? That’s good news in my book. One less person I have to fight off to get to Aidan.’
‘You don’t get it,’ Lisa said. ‘I really thought he was someone I could trust. And you don’t know how hard that is for me. I’m going outside and, when I come back, I want him gone.’
‘Lisa, please …’ Ray said. A cold blast of wind snatched his words away and almost knocked Lisa off her feet as she opened the caravan door.
Hugging her arms around her, she ran to her car. She fumbled with her keys in her rush to get in. Once inside, she switched the engine on and pushed the central-locking button. She turned the radio up as loud as it would go, and it filled the car with the noise of static. It had started to rain hard. Drops pelted against the windscreen like handfuls of pebbles.
Breathe in, she told herself. Slowly, breathe in. Slowly, breathe out. You are OK. You are safe. You are OK. You are safe. You are OK. You are safe. You are OK. You are safe.
If she repeated the phrases enough times, sometimes she could trick her body into thinking they were true.
A knock on the window made her jump.
Ray, huddled in the freezing rain, peered through the window. Lisa turned away from him. But he only went round to the other side, looking colder and wetter with every second.
He didn’t look like a liar, Lisa thought. If anything he had a nice face. She had come to really like looking at him over the last couple of days. But that was the trouble. Those were the worst kind. The kind that made you believe in them.
Still, no matter what sort of man he was, she didn’t want it to be her fault if he became the first man ever to drown in a field.
She turned down the radio and put the window down a little.
‘Please let me in,’ Ray said. ‘Let’s talk about it.’
Lisa didn’t move.
‘Look, Lisa, I don’t know what happened to you before, but whatever it was, I’m not going to do the same thing. I’m not. How can I? I’m just a bloke who lives with his mum. I’m a loser with a dead-end job, not much money and no prospects. I’m about as dangerous as a pyjama case! And anyway, you’ve got Abby looking out for you. I’m more scared of her than I ever was of the Taliban.’
At that Lisa almost smiled, but only almost. She released the central-locking button, nodded at the passenger door and waited.
When Ray got in he was shivering with the cold. ‘Typical British summer,’ he said.
‘I was going to get married,’ Lisa told him, because she knew she had to get the words out quickly, before they got stuck in her chest again, heavy and painful. ‘His name was Frank. I’d never had a boyfriend at school, or college. I’d got to the age of twenty-five and I thought probably I’d never meet anyone special, and I was OK with it. And then my mum died.
‘It had been just us two since I was a little girl, and then she was gone.’ Lisa paused, feeling the threat of tears thicken her voice. She waited for a moment, staring at the sheets of water that streamed down the windscreen until she was ready to go on.
‘There weren’t many people at the funeral: some cousins, and this guy who’d known her from the flower shop she worked in. He was one of her regular customers. Frank. He was kind and sweet, a bit older than me. He said my mum had told him all about me. He stayed by my side for the whole of the funeral, not saying anything, or trying anything. He was just there. And knowing he was there made it a little bit better.
‘A few days later he called me at work. I guess I must have told him where that was, though at the time I thought Mum must have told him. We went for coffee. He made me laugh so much, at a time when I really thought I might never feel like laughing again. Two weeks later, he told me he was in love with me, and I said I loved him too, because I did. Three months after that he asked me to marry him, and I said yes.
‘I think about a month had gone by when he said his business was in trouble and that he needed a loan to get it working again. He said he’d be able to pay it back within six months. But banks weren’t lending, and he’d probably have to let the business go. Mum had left me a bit of money, so I said I would lend it to him. There were more loans after that.’
Lisa bowed her head, curling herself over the pain that uncurled in her stomach when she thought about that look on his face, that sweet smile … the way he’d made her fee
l so cared for and loved. ‘He left the day before the wedding. I’d chosen what I wanted, and he’d booked it all because he didn’t want me to be stressed by anything. That was what he told me. He said, all you need to do is to turn up and marry me. I couldn’t believe he’d just left me like that, but I was still sure he’d come back.
‘It wasn’t until I started to ring round to cancel flowers and the reception that I realised he’d never booked any of it. It took me a couple more days to realise that my bank account and my savings account had both been cleaned out. I went to the police and they tried to be kind, but you could see by the way they looked at me what they really thought. They thought I was a fool. They said these people read the death notices in the papers. They look for someone on their own, someone who has just been left some money. They set out to take everything they can from them.’
Lisa turned to look at Ray, who was listening with his head bowed, unable to look at her. A drop of freezing rain ran down his nose before rolling off and plopping into his lap. But still he didn’t move.
‘I thought that he loved me. I thought I was worth being loved. Stupid cow. It wasn’t just money he stole. He stole much more than that. He stole everything that made me feel like the world was an OK place to live in, everything that made me feel safe and protected. He stole my trust in people, all people. It’s like he put me in prison and threw away the key.’
Ray wiped his damp hand on his damp trousers, and slowly reached out and took Lisa’s hand in his.
‘I’m so sorry, Lisa,’ he said, so gently that Lisa almost cried.
‘Look, I know you aren’t a bad bloke,’ she said. ‘Or at least I think I do. But I thought that about him too. So you can see, can’t you, why … I get worried. I worry about letting people into my life. Especially people who could really hurt me. I have to keep myself safe, you see. I have to keep myself safe.’
Looking for Captain Poldark Page 4