by Lynda Stacey
With a sideward glance, she saw Niall walking down the lane and into the garden of the derelict property, the one where she’d unnervingly slept on a cliff edge just a few hours before. Sitting up in her seat, she watched for as long as she could, until the car had driven past. The last she’d seen had been Niall disappearing out of sight and around the back of the property. Her instincts were to jump out of the car, run to his side, look for the phone with him, but knew that her grandad was already in a mood, that he’d want to get back to the farm and to the sheep, who’d be waiting to be fed.
‘I appreciate you coming over. I mean, it was a long way to come to help me, not sure what I’d have done, apart from get a taxi, which after last night might not have been the greatest idea.’ She rambled on, gave him a sidewards glance and grimaced at the way his eyes were fixed firmly on the road, the way his brow was furrowed. His lips had formed a tight, straight line, as though he’d superglued them together. It was a sight she wasn’t used to. Not from her grandad. He’d always been a man who spoke his mind. Made his opinions known. Yet recently, since her mum, his daughter, had died, he’d become withdrawn beyond recognition and for a moment Molly wished he’d shout, tell her his thoughts, give her back a piece of him that seemed to have become lost.
‘Your gran asked me to come, wants me to pop to the chemist, pick up her prescription while I’m out.’ He nodded firmly, turned the car towards town. ‘There’s a chemist near that new surgery you’re working at, so I thought I’d call there.’ He lifted a hand to rub his unshaven chin. ‘And when I get back, there’s plenty to do, so I won’t hang around,’ he threw at her with a defensive tone.
Feeling that the conversation was at an end, Molly stared out of the window, tapped her pockets, feeling for a phone that wasn’t there. Wished she’d asked Beth about the shoes, and just like the photograph and the spade, she wondered if they were another item that had disappeared from the house and, if so, who had been in to take them and why.
Jumping out at the surgery, Molly felt relieved to escape the confines of the car and smiled inwardly as her grandad’s car disappeared along the road and out of sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, and with her keys in hand, she let herself into the building, headed for the kitchen, switched on the kettle. Niall had been right about one thing, she really did need to drink some coffee and probably lots of it before she drove. While waiting for the kettle to boil, she switched on the staff television, flicked the channel onto the news and gasped at the red banner that filled the screen. A body found in a remote field close to the cliff tops of Filey is believed to be that of missing woman, Carol Cooper.
Stumbling across the kitchen, her legs became weak. Her mind went over the happenings of the past couple of weeks, of all the signs she’d seen and ignored. Fearful that she was about to faint, Molly reached for a chair, sat down and leaned forward. Placed an elbow on each knee and positioned her head firmly between her legs.
‘No, no, no… this can’t be happening, she can’t be dead.’ Feeling the panic rise within her, Molly jumped up, leaned over the sink and with the cold tap running, she splashed water onto her face, cupped her hand and took huge gulps of water between gasps of breath.
‘Thought I’d find you here.’ Dan’s voice suddenly came from behind. ‘You should be more careful and lock the door. You don’t know who’s lurking around, do you?’ He jangled a set of keys in his hand. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve locked it now.’
Molly turned with caution, wiped her chin on her sleeve, looked Dan up and down. ‘I came for my car, thought it a good idea to drink some coffee while I was here.’ She paused, heard the kettle click, tried to stay calm. ‘Do you want some coffee? I hadn’t made it yet,’ she asked cautiously while watching him pace around the room. Picking up the kettle, she filled two mugs. ‘Here… you look like you need this as much as I do.’
Sitting down, Molly held the mug close to her chest, breathed in the steam that rose from it, took a sip and nervously watched Dan who paced up and down the room with his hands bunching in and out of fists. He was pale, looked angry, distant and as she turned down the television, she could clearly hear him grinding his teeth and fought the urge to tell him not to.
‘What are you doing here, Dan?’ she asked, realised without a doubt that he was more than angry, probably very hurt. ‘I mean… you could have come to the house later. We could have talked there.’ She rolled her eyes around the room. ‘It’s not really appropriate to meet up here, it’s where I work, not somewhere to meet socially.’
‘Socially,’ he spat. ‘Is that what you call it, is that what we do now?’ His hand slammed down on the work surface, the mugs jumped, almost toppled, making Molly grab at them, pour the content down the sink.
‘Dan, I have no idea what’s got into you, but you need to leave. Right now.’ She felt the air being sucked out of the room, tried to pull oxygen into lungs that refused to fill, placed a hand on the back of the chair and held onto it tightly.
With a single step, he was standing in front of her, nose to nose. ‘You don’t know what’s wrong, do you?’
With his breath in her face, she could see the perspiration gathering on his forehead, on his top lip, the anger in his eyes. ‘Dan, I’m sorry I hurt you… and I’m grateful for all you did for us… but I don’t know what else to say. I can’t take us back in time, because if I could, I would.’ Immediately realising she’d said the wrong thing, she tried to step backwards, and arched her whole body over the worktop as his face moved even closer to hers. ‘Dan, you’re hurting me, please…’
‘You’d take us back in time, would you?’ he growled. ‘When would that take us back to, Moll? What point in time would that be?’ His hand touched her cheek, gently, but firmly. ‘Would that be to a time when we were together, when we were happy, or to a time when you spied on me… thought you knew what I was doing, when you thought I was selling drugs?’ He curled his lip, pressed his body against hers.
‘I… I saw you, you were passing drugs, in exchange for money. I saw him pay you.’ A violent trembling surged through her body, her eyes never leaving his as she twisted out of his grasp, headed for the door. ‘I didn’t want it to be true, but I saw… I was in Scarborough and I saw.’
‘You saw nothing,’ he screamed violently, launched himself towards her. Saliva sprayed her face, his hand gripped her wrist, held it tight. ‘What you saw was me protecting you. You fucking idiot.’ Turning away, he leaned over, struggled to breathe. ‘While I paid him, you were safe. Beth was safe.’ With one hand he reached out, scooped it across the worktop, knocked the contents across the side, onto the floor and then, with an animalistic howl, he dropped down onto his haunches. ‘While we were together, I could help you. But now, now you’re with him…’ He rolled his eyes to meet hers. ‘So now, I don’t see why I should do it, not now.’
Closing her eyes for the briefest moment, Molly tried to understand what he was saying, but shook her head. ‘Who…?’ she finally asked, almost too terrified to know the answer. ‘Who were you paying?’
Now sitting on the floor with his back against the unit, his legs stretched out before him, Dan’s eyes filled with tears. He stared at the floor, barely moving, even to breathe. ‘It wasn’t always in money,’ he whispered. ‘I paid him in kind and when you know what I did, you’ll hate me, you’ll never forgive me.’ Dan’s hands went up to his face, rubbed viciously at his head, ran fingers through his hair until he gripped it tightly, pulling at it with anger.
Apprehensively, Molly knelt beside him. She was terrified of the truth, but wanted to know it, needed to understand what he was saying, knew she’d only ever get this one chance to get him to ask. ‘Who did you pay, Dan?’ she whispered. ‘Who did you work for?’
His words were simple, his eyes full of self-pity, of sadness. ‘Charlie. I had no choice.’
Nodding, Molly inched her way to the door, suddenly terrified of the man she’d once loved. ‘What did you do, Dan?’ Her whole body shook with fear. Her
hand, almost numb of feeling, went to the door handle, clumsily pressed it down and while Dan’s eyes were closed, while tears were dropping down his face, she didn’t wait for the answer.
Running down the corridor, she went through reception, into her surgery and out through the fire door. She had to get home, had to get to Beth and cursed as the door slammed behind her, realising all too late that the keys to her car were now locked inside.
43
Running into the house, Molly watched the taxi turn on the lane and unlike the night before, she hadn’t felt guilty that he’d driven her to the door, down the lane or through the many puddles, even though he’d chuntered the whole way there about having to wash the taxi down and make it clean again before he’d be allowed back on the road.
Locking the doors behind her, she headed straight up the stairs, found Beth fast asleep on her bed and for a moment she sat beside her, ran a hand over her hair, down her cheek, remembered the promise she’d made to her mum, the promise to keep her sister safe. With the intention of phoning the police, she prised the mobile out of Beth’s hand, puffed up her cheeks and blew out a long, meaningful breath. Quivering with emotion, she stared at the screen, allowed her finger to hover over the number nine, tried to work out what she’d say, how she’d explain. She couldn’t quite comprehend what he’d meant and played his words over and over in her mind, like a video on continual loop.
He’d said she’d hate him for what he’d done, but for the life of her she couldn’t imagine what that would be. Every thought went through her mind, every conversation they’d ever had. With the need to rid herself of his touch and without making the call, she placed the phone back on the bed and headed into the shower. She stood with her eyes closed and allowed the water to hit her directly in the face. A continual stream of questions ran through her mind and while she stood under the flow, she tried to make sense of the past two years. She tried to decipher what he’d been saying, at what point Charlie must have come into his life. And like the pieces of a jigsaw, she tried to piece their time together, the way they’d met, the way he had fallen into her life, infiltrated it on a daily basis, and then how she came to depend on him. She’d turned to him, loved him, and relied on him, especially after her mum had died.
Leaning back against the tiles, she allowed the tears to fall down her cheeks. Had those two years been a lie, had he always worked for Charlie? Then, like a thunderbolt, the words the policewoman had used hit her. ‘It doesn’t add up. The front door wasn’t forced. The wine was poured.’ Wasn’t red wine both her mum’s and Dan’s favourite drink? Hadn’t they often shared a bottle? She shook her head, couldn’t believe it was true. Not Dan, he wouldn’t – couldn’t. She stepped out of the shower, sank to the floor, wrapped a towel around herself and stared at the tiles as she remembered the hours after her mum had died. She’d tried to message him, tried to phone, tried to get him to come and had only managed to track him down after the police had left. She’d climbed into the car with Beth, driven to his house and, without invitation, she’d moved them both in. Now Carol Cooper was dead. It was all over the news and, undoubtedly, Charlie would know what that was about too. She just had no way of proving it or explaining her suspicions to the police without sounding a little bit crazy.
‘Moll.’ Beth suddenly banged on the door. ‘I’m going out!’ Footsteps immediately thundered on the staircase. Jumping up, Molly tried to shout, yanked open the door, wafted a hand through the steam that hung in the air, thick and heavy, and stepped onto the landing. ‘Beth, please… don’t… I think you should stay here. Beth, do you hear me?’ she shouted down the stairs, as the front door slammed to a close. ‘Beth?’ Running to the top of the stairs, she stood on her tiptoes, and watched Beth disappearing down the lane, running at speed.
44
The earlier sea fret had gone and, because it was the weekend, the noise of whooping and laughter came from the beach, from children playing in the sand, making sandcastles, or splashing in the water, just as she and Molly had done so many years before. Standing on her tiptoes, Beth stood at the top of the wooden steps, nervously looked along the shoreline, checking for Jackson.
In the distance, she could see Niall walking towards her. His dog Dillon ran in and out of waves that for once seemed full of surfers, all taking advantage of the previous night’s stormy weather, today’s high tide and the early morning sunshine that had suddenly burst out from behind thick, threatening clouds.
Trying to calm herself, she looked up and down excitedly, waiting for Jackson. Thought about learning to surf. About Jackson teaching her. Then shook her head. ‘Who are you kidding?’ She laughed, thought of the story Molly had told her. The way she must have loved the sea as a toddler. How she’d run straight in, been thrown back up and onto the beach and how the man had scooped her up and into his arms.
‘Hey, you all right?’ Jackson waved from the water’s edge, gave her a wide, disarming smile. ‘I’ll be up in a minute.’ He held his phone in the air. ‘Just need to check in with Dad,’ he shouted, before turning with the phone to his ear and walking the waterline.
Kneeling down, Beth kept one eye on Jackson, watched as he swung a towel around the shoulders of his wetsuit, kicked at the sand while he made the call. Checking the time, Beth pulled a make-up bag from her rucksack, began to brush a light powder over her face. Heard the sound of his neoprene pumps on the wooden steps. ‘Give me a sec, I just need to finish this.’ She laughed. ‘Our Moll isn’t fond of me wearing make-up, so I waited till I got here.’
‘I don’t know why you bother putting it on.’ He turned, gave her an appreciative smile. ‘It’s not like you need it, is it?’ He shrugged his shoulders, rubbed vigorously at his hair with the towel, threw it at the floor and stood on it while he pulled the pumps from his feet, shook them free of the sand.
Feeling herself blush, Beth thought about her answer. She didn’t want to mention the morning she’d already had and hastily she applied a light brown eyeliner, a smudge of nude lip gloss, and smiled back at her reflection.
‘There, that’ll have to do.’ Standing up, she leaned back against the cliff and with one foot crossed over the other, she preened herself, tried her best to look cool. ‘So, what are we doing today, are we going to the house?’ She held up the bag. ‘I’ve brought more of my things. Not much left to bring, so… as soon as you give the word,’ she said cockily, ‘I’ll be ready to go. Anywhere you choose.’
Sighing, Jackson anxiously stepped forward, began to pace back and forth. ‘Beth…’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘We’re not going anywhere. You do know that don’t you?’ He caught her eye, gave her an awkward smile. ‘I like you, Beth, I really do. But you’re fifteen and if they thought I’d touched you or anything, I’d get locked up.’
Beth rolled her eyes, laughed. ‘Ha, you’re so funny. Now stop joking around, you promised. You said we’d do your grandad’s house up, live there or… or you said we could run away, that we’d be happy and…’ Stepping backwards, her voice trailed off. ‘And I’m sixteen soon, so it’ll all be okay, won’t it?’ she whispered hopefully.
Looking up at the clouds, Jackson’s face became contorted with pain as he struggled with the words. ‘Beth… on that day… I should have never taken you to the bungalow.’ He paused, stared aimlessly out to sea, to the waves. ‘And to be honest, I’d have said just about anything to stop you running.’ He took deep breaths, in and out, his shoulders heaving with emotion. ‘If I hadn’t stopped you, you’d have been on a bus to York and I couldn’t let you do that. It wasn’t part of the plan.’
Shaking her head, she timidly pressed her lips together. Most of what they’d said to each other over the past few days had been done on Messenger or Snapchat and now all of those messages came flooding back, every single word, every innuendo. All of them with two meanings. All of them taken in the exactly the wrong context.
She pretended to squint. ‘Plan, what plan?’
He held out a hand, took he
rs in his, pulled her around the corner, searched her eyes with his. The excitement and fear of the moment hit her all at once and her anger with him was momentarily forgotten as she waited, hoped he’d kiss her. It was something she’d waited for. Thought about. Dreamed of. And now she held her breath, didn’t know what to do, how to react and finally, with an awkward smile, she looked up and caught his eye. ‘See, you were joking. Weren’t you?’ She slapped his arm, giggled. ‘You had me going for a minute.’
‘Beth.’ Jackson looked over his shoulder, his smile gone. There was a stern look crossing his face. ‘I’m not joking. I really like you.’ He spun around, pressed his lips firmly against hers. ‘And… you do trust me. Don’t you?’ Once again, he looked nervously over his shoulder, ran a hand through his hair.
‘Yes, of course I trust you,’ she finally managed to say, smiled as he moved back to her side, leaned against the cliff face, held her hand in his.
‘Then tell me about your dad, Beth. Who he is? What he’s like?’
‘My dad? What do you want to know about him for?’
‘Beth,’ he questioned, ‘please, just answer the question.’
‘I… well, I don’t really know him, not yet…’ She took in a deep breath, rolled her eyes, thought about the question. Molly had told her over and over again how dangerous he was, how much trouble he’d caused, how terrified of him their mum had been and of how she should be terrified too. But deep down, she remembered the man he’d been, the daddy she’d had and the little girl who’d craved his attention. ‘If I’m honest, I’ve only seen him once since he got out of prison and that was only for a few minutes, I haven’t been allowed to see him for years, my Mum wouldn’t let me, but he is my dad and… well, I was only little and I remember all the good things.’