Adam glared at them both whilst they laughed at him. He grew warm and knew his face was flushing. Judging by the heat it had reached a shade of vermillion. He bit his lip in shame and they laughed even more.
‘Look forget it,’ said Joe. ‘Not gonna happen. Now if that’s it, I’ve got better things to do than talk about tail from three years ago. You coming?’ he said to Aaron. They strolled off to the bar, leaving Adam on his own. At the bar they began chatting to a pair of teenage blondes.
Jeez, jailbait, thought Adam, and he drained his pint and walked out the door.
He turned left, away from his home and wandered up the street, idly kicking a can. The night was warm, and the town busy with the Friday night crowds. He walked and walked with no idea where he was going. When he passed the bus station and the homeless who gathered at the back of the supermarket for the second time, he realised he was traipsing around in circles. He kept walking and started to cross the road when a car hooted at him. He jumped back onto the pavement. It was a police car. Whether by accident or design his wanderings had brought him to the police HQ. He nodded at the driver, but the officer ignored him and Adam stood at the kerb, staring at the blue fascia over the glass doors. He was just about to head into the station, when a hand grabbed his forearm and said. ‘I’m sorry, but are you sure you want to go in there? How about we have a drink and a chat first?’
‘Do I know you?’ said Adam.
‘We have friends in common,’ came the reply.
‘Okay.’ Adam nodded and he followed the figure up the road all the while turning around to see the blue light fading as he moved away from it. He hesitated, twisting himself around to stare at the police station. His mother had taught him to trust the police but Joe and Aaron simply laughed. The rozzers are not to be trusted they’d told him. His companion came back to where Adam stood in a daze. They cupped his elbows in their hands and led him into a dimly lit bar.
6th July 2018
Gippingford
‘Are you serious about the law degree?’ asked Tim as he and Aspen walked back to the car park. He hadn’t really enjoyed the film – it had been far too deep and replete with soul-searching for him. He wasn’t anxious to discuss it at length and so opted for the distraction technique.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think I’d like to do something more meaningful. In any case it’s all your fault…’
‘My fault? How do you work that out?’ he said.
‘Well, all that help you gave me finding out how Jade died. That’s what gave me the idea.’
‘Oh, please don’t tell your mother that.’ Tim laughed as he clicked the remote for the car doors. He opened the door for Aspen and leaned on it to say, ‘She doesn’t seem too keen on me being a copper in the first place.’
‘She’ll get over it,’ said Aspen. ‘She does like you.’
‘Hmm,’ Tim said. He strolled around the car and slipped into the driver’s seat. ‘If your mother does like me, she hides it extremely well,’ he said, giving Aspen a grin. ‘So four years of a law degree. Where does that leave us? Have you decided where you want to study?’
‘I’d like to stay in the Bristol area. I’ll have to change universities but I can stay in the flat that I’m in. Keep sharing with the same people.’
‘And us?’ Tim put the key in the ignition and leaned across to pull her close to him. ‘What about us?’
‘There are weekends. And even you get some leave sometimes. We can make it work, Tim, don’t worry.’
‘What’s Bristol like?’ he asked. ‘I’ve not been there.’
‘You’d love it. Really lively university vibe. Great bars and restaurants. Fantastic nightlife.’
‘I think I might be a bit too old for nightlife,’ Tim replied, moving away. He put his hands on the steering wheel and drummed his fingers. ‘But I did have another idea.’
‘Oh, what’s that? Do tell.’ She twisted in her seat to get a better look at him.
He shook his head, reluctant to speak, wondering if now was the right moment. ‘Aspen, how would you feel if I asked for a transfer to Avon and Somerset Police? Obviously I’d need your dad’s approval for a transfer, but I think he’d be okay with it. What about you?’
‘You’d do that for me? You’d leave here?’ Aspen looked at him.
He reached forward and turned the car engine over. ‘To be honest,’ he said, shifting the car into gear before looking around to make sure it was clear and pulling out of the parking space. ‘I only came back here because my mum was so ill. Otherwise I would have joined something like the Met in the first place.’
‘And wouldn’t you still prefer to be in the Met?’ she said.
‘Yes and no. The Met isn’t everything to me anymore. I think I’ve realised that I’d rather be where you are. If I was in the same county at least it would cut down on travelling costs. You could spend the money on books or food instead. We could still come back and visit your parents every few weeks.’
‘Are you asking me to live with you?’ Aspen’s mouth slackened.
‘I’m not sure,’ he said frowning. ‘Would you like that or would you prefer your student life? Part of uni life is the fun and the friends you make. You’ve already said you’d prefer Bristol so you can stay with your current housemates. This way you’d have the best of both worlds. Let’s face it you know what a copper’s life is like. I may not always be around.’
‘Yeah, okay. I understand,’ she said. ‘Let’s think on it. But I really like the idea. No arrests for drunk and disorderly. I could just tell them to take me to my boyfriend.’
‘Ha, bloody ha,’ said Tim. He pulled into the drive at her parents’ house. ‘It doesn’t work like that and you know it.’ He pulled her to him and they kissed deeply.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Summer 2016
Nunney, Somerset
The garden looked as stunning as it always did. Lissa stood at her bedroom window watching her parents at work; Dad mowing and Mum deadheading roses in the glorious central bed, awash with colour, where the bushes had pride of place. She envied her parents their camaraderie, their ability to work in harmony together. Like the ying and yang of the gardening world, each had their own job in the garden, but they were still a team. Still together.
Turning away from the window, Lissa looked around her bedroom. It was no longer her room. Or, more precisely, not the room of a grown woman. Whilst travelling she had never settled in one place for very long, if at all. Now this room, for all its childhood comforts, felt like a cocoon, and one that she had outgrown. It was too stifling. Whilst it had been good to come back here last summer, if she was ever going to recover her identity fully, she needed a fresh start. But where would she go? All of her friends had moved on. Those who still lived in the area, had husbands or partners and most had children. None of them had room for a damaged old schoolfriend. Once again she stared out of the window at her parents. They were unlikely to understand her decision, but she hoped they would at least support it.
Lissa pulled her mobile out of her pocket, and punched the contacts icon. She scrolled down to the Js and selected Jenni’s number but decided to text rather than call.
I need somewhere to stay. Can you think of anywhere? Lissa put the phone back in her pocket and trudged down the stairs to talk to her parents. Before she’d reached the kitchen and the double doors to the garden, Jenni had already replied.
Remember I said my parents have a granny flat over the garage. Yours if you want it. Jx.
Lissa texted back one word, fab. She took a deep breath, and walked into the garden. Her father waved at her from his position behind the mower, and her mother, seeing the gesture, turned around.
‘Lissa, sweetie! How are you feeling?’ said Sandra, waving the secateurs in greeting.
Inwardly Lissa groaned. It wasn’t a conversation she was looking forward to but, to her surprise, it seemed her decision was something her parents were expecting.
‘It’s a really good idea,’ said her fath
er. ‘It’s not that we don’t want you to stay. We love having you here, but I can understand that you don’t want to be cut off, out in the sticks with two old fogeys.’
‘I love you two old fogeys,’ said Lissa laughing, ‘but…’ She was unable to finish saying what she wanted to say. If she told them that their love was too cloying and smothering they would be hurt, and they would not understand.
‘Have you thought where you’ll go?’ her mother asked.
Lissa nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Jenni’s parents have a flat over their garage that she said I can use.’
‘Jenni?’ Sandra frowned. ‘Is that the young girl from the hospital? The anorexic?’
‘Yes,’ Lissa said. ‘We became quite friendly in the end.’
Sandra placed her clenched fists on her hips. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ she said. ‘Who will be there to keep an eye on you?’
‘Mum,’ said Lissa. ‘I’m a grown woman. I’m thirty-three years old. In the past I have been able to look after myself. And I need to get back the confidence to be able to do that again. Jenni knows me, and she knows what I’ve been through. We can keep an eye on each other. Her place isn’t far from Torrie’s consulting rooms and so I can get there easily. Who knows, in time, I might even be able to walk there on my own.’
Sandra opened her mouth to say something else, but Lissa saw the look from her father and Sandra said nothing. The expression on her mother’s face showed that she was not in agreement with the idea, but for once she kept her thoughts to herself.
26th August 2016
Bristol
Lissa slumped on the floor, suitcases and boxes piled around her like a child’s fortress. She’d declined her father’s offer of help with the unpacking, initially wanting to start her life of renewed independence immediately. But, as the front door clicked shut behind him and his footsteps faded down the stairs, her sudden freedom overwhelmed her. Silence enveloped her and she reclined on the carpet, dragging a cushion from a box to rest her head and stare at the ceiling. Sunbeams, refracted through the overly ornate chandelier, lit the room with rainbow colours. From what she had seen of Jenni’s house so far, it was probably an antique, she surmised. Hypnotised by the kaleidoscope of lights and the faint hum of distant traffic coming through the open window, Lissa drifted off to sleep.
When she woke later, the sun was lower in the sky and had changed position, taking not only the rainbow but the warmth too. Lissa shivered and pushed herself into a sitting position. She was hungry and began to unpack the basket of food her mother had prepared. She selected some cheese and biscuits, an apple and carton of juice, placing the remaining items in the fridge. Someone had put it on, she had no idea who, but Jenni had mentioned a housekeeper. At least it was cold and Lissa hoped the food would not perish too soon after being left out all afternoon in the warm kitchen. Taking her snack to the bay window she sat on the curved seat and looked out down the drive to the road. A neighbour was reversing her black Audi onto her driveway. After the woman click-clacked to her house, the road was silent once more. Lissa munched on the apple until movement in the trees startled her. A man was standing in the shade of the huge leylandii, hidden from the road. Was he staring at her window? She froze, apple at her mouth where she could smell its juicy freshness turning to something rotten. As Lissa edged away from the window, the man stepped forward out of the shadows with a rake. Relief flooded over Lissa and she tiptoed closer to the window and watched the gardener collecting grass cuttings.
The doorbell rang and once more Lissa froze. Jenni shouted through the letterbox and Lissa felt queasy as the adrenaline rush subsided. She leaned against the wall for support before opening the door.
‘Hi, come in.’ Lissa could hear the quiver in her voice and hoped that Jenni wouldn’t notice.
‘I thought you might need a hand unpacking,’ she said.
Lissa groaned. ‘As you can see,’ she said, waving her hands at the cases and boxes, ‘I’ve made a start already.’
‘You have?’ Jenni said grinning. ‘Come on let’s get on with it. Cases in the bedroom?’ She picked up the cases, one clutched in each hand.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ve chosen the one at the back – it’s smaller but quieter and I thought I could use the other room for an office.’
‘Office?’ Jenni looked at her.
‘Yeah, I thought I’d make a start with going through my photos. I can sell some to photo stock sites, like iStock and Alamy.
‘Oh, that’s so cool,’ Jenni said. ‘I’ll put the cases in the back room and you’ll want the books in the front one?’
‘Thanks, Jenni. And thanks for getting your gardener to move the bed and wardrobes for me. Dad brought me a desk from home so I’m getting sorted.
‘Where’s the camera you got for Christmas and all your other photographic kit?’ Jenni asked.
Lissa opened her mouth, but no words came out. She bowed her head, tears pricking her eyes and she envisaged running her thumb over the dent in her old Canon. It had become something of a ritual, stroking the dent before composing the shot and she missed the camera with a pain that bordered on the physical. She had tried the new camera again, of course she had, but each time she held it the memories came back. In the end she’d hidden it under the bed in her parents’ home, knowing that she would never be able to raise a camera to her eye again and capture beauty. A tear trickled down her cheek and she brushed it away furiously, angry with herself for showing weakness. Deep down she knew that it was not just her lenses which had been shattered that night. Her life had been crushed too.
Jenni looked quizzical for a moment, then shrugged and carried the cases through to the small room between the kitchen and the bathroom. She was soon back, and Lissa heard her unpacking books and flattening the boxes. She went into the bedroom and hung some clothes in the wardrobe and stacked jeans and jumpers in the base. There were not many garments, and it didn’t take her long to complete. Nor did placing her toiletries in the bathroom.
Afterwards she made them both a cup of tea. Jenni was sitting on the floor of the large room ensconced in a travel book.
‘I just realised some of these photos are yours,’ she said, looking at her with something bordering admiration. ‘I didn’t realise you were so good.’
‘Thanks, I think,’ said Lissa, feeling a little peeved. She sighed, wondering if she’d ever be able to travel again. She looked at the photos of Marrakesh over Jenni’s shoulder. The scents of the marketplace flooded her senses. Smells of spices, food stalls and the unmistakable stench of tanning works. But, as she daydreamed, other sounds and smells rushed in drowning out the memories of Marrakesh. Taking away that sense of freedom and pleasure, replacing it with fear and pain, and she realised her days of travelling were far behind her.
Later, when Jenni had left, Lissa ambled into her new bedroom. The two cases were on the bed where Jen had left them and, leaning against the bed, was a rucksack she’d not seen in a while – the base of the pack still dusty with grey from the walls of the ciudadela in Pamplona. Lissa remembered dropping the knapsack to the ground as she had walked around the secluded area. She slumped to the floor and stared at the bag.
Come on, she said to herself. It’s just a rucksack. Brush it off, put it in the wash. Throw it away, whatever, but it’s just a rucksack. She wriggled across the floor towards it and reached out her hand. Immediately she snatched it back as if she had been burnt. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath, telling herself to buck up – take control and so she carefully unzipped the side pocket. Her passport, boarding pass and a few euros. Nothing more. She opened the main compartment and put her hand inside. A book and a jumper that she must have packed to wear on the plane if the air con was too ferocious. That was it. Nothing to fear here. She released the breath she’d scarcely been aware she was holding, and turned the rucksack upside down to tip out the contents on the floor. Granules of grey sand and stone scattered across the carpet and there, in the middle of
the detritus, was the compact flash memory card.
Lissa froze. She remembered it. Finding it in that room. Picking it up and lying to her mother about it. She reached out a hand to pick it up and the flesh on her arm chilled and contracted. Goosebumps rose on her skin and her hand hovered over the memory card. She was unable to touch it, even though it was all that was left of her cameras and her previous life. Or was that the reason she could not bring herself to lift it from the floor? On that card were the last images she’d taken before The Event. The people camping and partying in the grounds of the renaissance fort. On that card could be other images. What if? No. No, she wouldn’t look. Taking the card she shoved it into the bag. Zipped up the compartment and slung it into the back of the wardrobe. It could not harm her there, now could it?
Chapter Twenty-Five
6th July 2018
Felixstowe Beach, Suffolk
Adam Waite slid out of the passenger seat and followed his new companion down the worn wooden steps onto the pebbled beach. Stones shifted as he stumbled down to the water’s edge.
‘Why have we come here?’ he asked.
‘This is a quiet place to talk,’ came the reply.
‘About what?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Bullfighting perhaps? You like bullfighting, don’t you, Adam?’
Adam squinted into the semi-darkness, but the other person was striding along ahead of him, their dark clothing making the most of the waning moonlight. ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘I just went cos of the others,’ he said.
‘You follow them everywhere, Adam? Just do what they do? Don’t you enjoy the spectacle. The sight of the blood. The smell of death as the bull gasps its last breath.’
‘No, no I don’t. I hated it!’
‘Liar. All the things you see, you capture in your head. Like images on a camera. You can revisit them any time you want. My friend liked cameras.’ The figure paused, turning and waiting for Adam to catch up. ‘It was how she made her living. How she saw the world. Beautiful photos. You’d like them.’
Recompense Page 14
