The Truth About Celia Frost

by Paula Rawsthorne

  “Are you sure that you’ve got enough suncream on?” asked Sol as he looked at the white goo smeared on every inch of Celia’s exposed skin.

  “Factor 50. It’s impossible to rub in, but I thought it was best to be on the safe side. This skin isn’t used to sunshine,” she said, waving her squelching arms and legs about. “Mum’s always made me wear long sleeves and trousers in case I fell over,” she sneered. “But not any more. I’m going to wear what I like from now on.”

  “How did it go with your mum?”

  “Well, you were right. She’s definitely got that mental thing – she’s a complete and utter nutter,” Celia answered, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

  “What?! So she really has been lying about the blood clotting thing!”

  “Yep, I gave her the chance to prove it but she couldn’t. She just kept spouting a pack of lies about needing to keep me safe,” Celia snorted in disgust. “She even admitted that if social services investigated, I’d be taken off her.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Sol asked anxiously.

  “Nothing! If I grass on her, I’d only end up in care...and it’s not like she’s a bad person or anything, just crazy. Anyway, she knows the score now. She can’t tell me what to do any more; she can’t keep telling all those lies.”

  “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

  “Yeah...I can handle it,” Celia said, her voice finally faltering, tears pricking her eyes.

  Sol stood there awkwardly, debating whether a pat on the back was appropriate. He opted for supportive words. “Of course you can handle it.”

  “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about her. She’s wasted enough of my life already. I’ve got fourteen years of boredom to make up for.” She dabbed her eyes, putting a veneer of a smile on her face. “So come on, do something exciting for me!”

  Sol was happy to move on, thinking for a second before announcing, “Okay then. How about some magic?”

  “What, are you going to pull a rabbit out of one of the holes?” Celia gestured into the forest.

  “No, much more impressive than that. But you must promise me that whatever happens, you won’t panic,” he said mysteriously.

  “What do you think I am, some hysterical little girl?” Celia answered indignantly.

  “Okay then, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With this he started to get undressed.

  “What are you doing?” Celia screeched.

  “You’re not panicking already, are you?” Sol laughed as he got down to his trunks. He walked to the edge of the top slab, glancing down at the sheer drop below, before elegantly diving from the great height into the lake.

  Celia waited for him to surface. What was he up to? She shielded her eyes from the glare of the sparkling water, and surveyed the lake intently. He hadn’t come up, there was no sign of him, and already it felt like too long.

  How many minutes can someone hold their breath? Celia racked her brain. Maybe he’s like one of those pearl divers that they make documentaries about. Maybe he has an amazing lung capacity and can stay underwater for ages.

  Minutes ticked by and she paced up and down the slab steps, peering into the fathomless lake. She couldn’t see any air bubbles.

  He said not to panic, she scolded herself. Think of a logical explanation. But Celia couldn’t. There was no way he had managed to sneak out onto the slabs without her noticing, and the rest of the lake was completely surrounded on all other sides by the towering cliffs. Just then, a heron flapped out of the bed of reeds on the far side of the lake. Of course! That’s where he’s hiding. She climbed back up to the top slab so that she could look down into the reeds. They were densely clustered together, but nothing was concealed among them. Celia was undeterred. I bet he’s just below the surface, using one of the reeds as an air pipe.

  “Very clever,” Celia shouted across the lake. “A real action man, aren’t you? You can come out now; you’ve managed to impress me.”

  But there was no movement. “Come out, Sol. You’re boring me now.”

  Still the reeds remained undisturbed.

  “Come on, Sol, enough is enough,” she said, exasperated. But there was nothing and her eyes ran over the sparkling lake again, her brain racing, trying to work out other explanations. Another minute passed.

  God, say he’s trapped down there! Maybe his trick’s gone wrong? It’s been over ten minutes. He could have cracked his head on a rock and sunk to the bottom. He might have got tangled in weeds, struggling to free himself, and I’ve been stood here, just waiting.

  “Sol,” she shouted desperately. “Please, Sol, if this is part of the trick, it just isn’t funny. Come out now. I’m worried. Don’t do this to me.”

  Another minute passed and still the eerily calm water stared back at her. Despite the heat, goose bumps had erupted on her skin. What can I do? I’m useless – useless!! I can’t jump in and look for him and there’s no one else for miles.

  “Sol...please, Sol...stop it now!”

  “BOO!”

  She shrieked as the voice boomed behind her. Swinging round, she was greeted by a dripping, smug-faced Sol.

  “You weren’t panicking, were you?” he asked, feigning innocence.

  “No,” she answered haughtily, “of course not.”

  “Well that’s strange, because I could have sworn that I heard someone who sounded just like you, someone who sounded in a real panic,” he said, bursting into laughter.

  “Well, what the hell do you expect?” She shoved him. “I thought you’d drowned!”

  “It’s nice to see you care. And what did you call me? I believe it was Action Man!” He chuckled.

  “Captain Underpants, more like.” She shoved him again.

  “Come on, don’t be mad at me. I did warn you not to panic and you have to admit it’s a great bit of magic,” he said proudly.

  “Yes, very impressive,” Celia said drolly. “But I didn’t take my eyes off that lake, so how the hell did you get out without me noticing?”

  “Come with me and I’ll show you,” he said excitedly. She followed him into the forest, skirting around the lake. He stopped. They were at the top of one of the cliffs, but the lake was hidden by a row of thick trees.

  “Look,” he said to her.

  “What am I looking at?”

  “Look down at your feet.”

  Inspecting the ground closely, she saw that thick layers of bracken and twigs were camouflaging planks of wood that had been roped together to form a makeshift cover.

  “It looks like a trapdoor. Did you make this?” Celia asked.

  “Yes, I needed to make it safe. When I first found it, it was just covered with overgrown moss and plants. You could easily have just fallen into it,” he said.

  “So what’s down there?”

  “Come and see,” Sol said, lifting the cover to reveal a gaping hole that plummeted down into darkness.

  “How do you get down?” Celia asked dubiously.

  “It’s easy. There’s loads of rock sticking out that you can grab onto. Watch me. I’ll go first.” And with that he disappeared down the mouth of the shaft. A couple of minutes later he shouted up to her. “Come on, Celia.”

  “I’m not good with enclosed spaces,” Celia called down anxiously.

  “What’s enclosed about it? It’s nice and wide. Just focus on the daylight and feel your way down. Come on, don’t be a baby.”

  She gingerly clambered down the shaft, her feet and fingers picking their way, finding the footholds, her eyes flicking back and forth to the wide, bright opening to keep herself calm. She reached the bottom, proud of herself.

  “You see, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Sol said.

  The temperature had dropped dramatically. Her teeth starting to chatter, her eyes strained to adjust to the dim light.

  “I keep a torch down here,” Sol told her. “Just wait a sec.” The next moment, the place was illuminated, revealing the glistenin
g walls of a cave.

  “What am I looking for – prehistoric cave drawings, dinosaur fossils?”

  “There’s nothing like that,” answered Sol. “It’s just another chamber that was blasted years ago when they were looking for more slate.”

  “Sol, I like secret caves as much as the next girl” – she shivered – “but basically you’ve just brought me down a very cold, very big hole underground and I still don’t understand how you got out of the lake.”

  Sol turned his torch off. “Look towards the light over there.”

  Celia could now clearly see light coming through a deep letterbox-like slit in the far wall of the cave.

  “Is that daylight?” she asked.

  “Yeah. There’s more than one way to get in and out of here. All you need to do is get through there,” he said pointing to the slit.

  “No one could get through there, it’s too narrow.”

  “Trust me – it’s okay once you know how, although it may be even more of a squeeze for you. I reckon it’s about five metres long, but you have to keep as flat as you can and watch that you don’t hit your head on the rock. I lie on my front and push myself along using my hands and feet. Once you’re in, there’s no space to turn around. Just make sure that you stop before you fall out the other end.”

  “Why, where does it lead to?”

  “The lake of course. I don’t reckon they found any slate in this chamber because they didn’t bother blasting it right through to the main quarry, but they did leave this tunnel. It comes out just above the water level, behind all those reeds.”

  “But I was looking right down at those reeds and didn’t see any opening in the rock.”

  “I know, it’s magic, isn’t it?” Sol said. “You can’t tell it’s there; the reeds provide cover for it and the opening has moss hanging over it, so it’s completely camouflaged. Once you reach the end of the tunnel, you can just push yourself out and into the water. Why don’t you just see if you can fit in?”

  “I wouldn’t put myself in there if my life depended on it,” she said, bristling at the very thought of it. “I can’t even go in lifts without having a panic attack.”

  Sol sighed. “I thought you wanted some excitement in your life.”

  “Yeah, excitement, not terror,” she answered.

  “Okay then. How about a race? I’ll go through the slit and you go up and around. We’ll see who makes it back to the slabs first.”

  “You’re on!” Celia shouted, heading for the bottom of the shaft. She looked behind and saw the soles of Sol’s feet disappearing into the wafer-thin tunnel. She climbed as fast as she could, quickly gaining in confidence and surprising herself with her nimbleness. She heaved herself out of the hole and sprinted through the cliff-top forest. She caught glimpses of Sol through the trees, cutting through the water with an elegant stroke. She skidded down the slope and towards the slabs just in time to see Sol pulling himself out of the water, breathless but victorious.

  “I seriously need to get fit,” Celia panted, the gloopy suncream sliding down her face.

  “You look like you’re melting,” Sol laughed. “Why don’t you get in the water and cool down. You can stand up in this bit.” He slid back into the lake and stood, head and shoulders above the surface. “See, you’ll be fine, it’s fairly shallow here.”

  Celia wiped the dripping cream away from her eyes, looking apprehensively at the water.

  “My first dip in this lake wasn’t exactly fun,” she said.

  “You’ll just have to be careful; stick around this part. After a few metres the ground suddenly disappears – it shelves right down, so deep you can’t even see the bottom.”

  “Thanks, that’s reassuring,” she said sarcastically.

  “Oh, come on. It’s great once you’re in. You’re not going to go out of your depth.”

  Celia took off her trainers and socks and inched herself in. She felt like a red-hot horseshoe being plunged into a blacksmith’s icy water, but once she felt the solid ground beneath her feet and the coolness of the water sucking the uncomfortable heat from her body, she started to relax.

  “See, I knew you’d like it – but you still need cooling down,” Sol said, using both hands to push a wall of water up at Celia.

  She screamed as the cold water hit her full in the face. Grabbing hold of the slab sides, she declared, “This means war!” Her long legs kicked with such ferocity that a tidal wave enveloped Sol.

  The surface erupted as they both pummelled the water. Celia suddenly shouted above the roar of their splashes. “Sol, do you think you could teach me how to swim?”

  Sol stopped his attack. “Me, teach you?”

  “Yeah – I want to be able to swim in this lake. I don’t want to be stuck in the shallow bit like a little kid.”

  “Well,” he pondered. “If you’re serious about learning, it’ll take a lot of work. We’d have to spend a lot of time here.”

  “That’s okay with me if it’s okay with you,” she said apprehensively.

  “Sure. Why not?” He smiled shyly.

  “Great!”

  “But of course,” he said with a glint in his eyes, “if you want me to teach you then you’ve got to surrender now and declare me the winner.”

  “In your dreams!” Celia blasted water at him as the flooded quarry echoed with the cries of their battle.

  Meanwhile Frankie Byrne wasn’t having such a good day. On arriving in the city he’d booked into a cheap hotel, with dozens of small dark rooms and breakfast served in a damp converted cellar that had the air of a crypt. He reckoned that if his work here was going to take some time, then he might as well maximize his income. It was an old trick of his: stay somewhere cheap and charge the client for a more expensive hotel – that way he pocketed the substantial difference. He never had any trouble finding some underpaid, unappreciated receptionist at a swish hotel who would oblige him with a fake bill in return for fifty quid or so.

  Frankie had already been on to Julian, demanding that he access the local education authority’s register to see if Celia was attending any of the schools.

  “Frankie, this just isn’t fair. I’ve more than fulfilled any obligation I had to you. Have some decency, find someone else to do your dirty work,” said the frazzled man.

  “Unfortunately for you, Julian, decency is one of the many things I lack. Don’t get bitter. We’re a great team, so don’t do anything stupid. If I get put away there’s no one to miss me, but you, Julian...well, your kids don’t want to be visiting their daddy in jail, do they?”

  Frankie knew that he had Julian over a barrel, but he didn’t want to push him too far and make him do anything irrational. So he decided against asking him to hack into the database for the city housing. He was confident that he could get the information he needed without his help.

  He started his inquiries at the main coach station but, after hours of effort, he came away with nothing. He’d shown the picture of Janice around and given them the story of his wife running off with his daughter, but no one could remember seeing them. When he asked all the taxi drivers waiting for business outside the station, he got the same response. “You must be joking. Thousands of people pass through here every day and you’re asking about a couple from over three weeks ago.”

  He headed to the main housing office in the centre of the city. Positioning himself in the busy waiting area gave him a good view of all the workers behind their desks, who were dealing with a constant stream of people. He watched and listened, soon picking up who were the more senior housing officers and who were the junior, inexperienced ones. The senior staff dealt with the clients quickly and efficiently; they steered people away from spilling out their terrible life stories and kept it strictly to getting facts and dealing with the housing issue. On the other hand, he observed that one of the younger workers was unable to control the interviews with his clients. He fumbled around with his papers while Frankie kept hearing him say, “Actually I’m not too sur
e about our policy on that, but I’ll look into it for you.” At one point a colleague came and whispered in his ear. The younger man coloured up, saying, “I’m going as fast as I can.”

  Frankie knew that this was his man: inexperienced, kind and harassed – just the type to give out confidential information on trust. He walked up to his desk, politely interrupting his current conversation, and motioned towards the pile of business cards there. “Yes, take one,” said the worker, “it’s got my direct line on.” Frankie smiled his thanks and left.

  He went across the road into the Tourist Information Centre, found a quiet corner and phoned the number.

  “Mike Channell, housing officer, how may I help?” came a harassed-sounding voice.

  “Hello, this is Paul Hughes from Newport District Housing. I was wondering if we could help each other. You see, we believe that a woman and her daughter have recently moved to your area and have probably been housed by you. We just wanted to let you know that the woman left us owing substantial rent arrears and was classified as a nuisance tenant.”

  “Oh,” said the housing officer, “we could do without that. You’d better give me their name and I’ll check on our system.”

  “Janice Frost and her daughter, Celia Frost. They would have arrived about three weeks ago. If you do have their address we’d appreciate having it so we can begin proceedings to recoup the rent arrears,” Frankie said, crossing his fingers for luck rather than because he was spouting a load of lies.

  There was a long pause and Frankie could hear the tapping of a keyboard down the line.

  “Do you know what, Paul? I’m going to have to call you back. I’ve got a big queue of people waiting and I’m having no luck finding them,” said Mike, sounding even more hassled.

  Frankie knew that he couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t give a mobile number when he was meant to be sat in an office in Wales – he would be rumbled straight away.