by Wendy Clarke
‘What is?’
‘The sky… this cairn… you.’ He came back to her and turned her face a fraction. ‘I’d like to photograph you, if you’d let me. Here by the cairn with the moody sky behind you. The light is just right and the breeze… the way it’s moving your hair… I couldn’t have planned it if I tried.’
‘Isn’t it too dark now that the sun’s gone in?’ Shadows were creeping across the slopes on the other side of the valley, deepening the inky clefts between the hills.
David shook his head. ‘It’s the quality of light that’s important, not the quantity. When there’s full sun, it’s like being in a room with just a bare bulb. Everything is evenly lit. When the sun comes out from behind the cloud, it’s like turning on a spotlight. It increases the contrast and the shadow, making it better for photographs.’
Beth looked down at her denim shorts and strappy top. Her walking boots. ‘But what about these?’
‘What about them? I don’t want a series of photographs with someone dressed like they’re about to go on the catwalk. What you’re wearing is perfect – working with the landscape, not fighting against it.’
‘But I don’t know how to stand. What to do.’
‘Don’t worry about that. I’ll tell you.’ He pointed to a slab of slate that jutted out from the cairn. ‘I’d like you to sit on this and look out across the valley. That’s all.’
Using the great slabs of rock as steps, Beth climbed the pile of slate until she was kneeling on the one David had shown her. Gingerly, she manoeuvred herself until she was facing out into the valley. She leant back. ‘Like this?’
‘Not quite. Bend one knee up and rest your chin on it. No, don’t smile. I want you to look thoughtful.’
Beth did as she was told, trying not to look at him as he moved around her, his camera raised to his face.
‘Ever heard of the rule of thirds?’
She looked up. ‘No. What’s that?’
David clicked away. ‘Imagine breaking the image down into thirds, horizontally and vertically. If you place points of interest in the intersections, the photograph becomes more balanced. It’s the same with drawing. I’m surprised your A-level tutor hasn’t mentioned it.’
‘Maybe she has. I’ve probably just forgotten.’
David put down his camera. ‘Well, whether she’s told you or not, I’ve noticed, in the pictures that you’ve shown me, that you do it anyway. You must just have a natural eye for the balance of the picture.’
Beth thought of the drawing she’d done of the eagle. The one that her teacher wanted to enter into the competition. The bird was at the side of the page, looking out at the viewer, the crags reflected in its yellow eyes. The rest of the page was just a pale wash of blue, the edges feathering into nothing. She hadn’t been taught – it had just felt right to do it that way.
‘I think I’m done.’ There was a click as he replaced the lens cap. ‘It’s going to rain soon… I can feel it in the air. We’d better go before it starts.’
With a glance at the darkening sky, Beth shuffled across the slate slab and began to climb back down, taking his offered hand and jumping the last part. David caught her and grinned. ‘I’ve got some fabulous shots there. Wouldn’t be surprised if one of the biggies decided to take them.’
‘The biggies?’
‘Yeh… BBC Countryfile or The Countryman. You wouldn’t mind, would you?’
‘No. It’s just that I can’t imagine anyone being interested in a photograph with me in it.’
‘It’s not just you.’ David spread his arms wide. ‘It’s all this too… But mostly you.’
Touching the ends of her hair, he leant in to kiss her, but Beth had frozen.
‘Shit!’
David took a step back. ‘What is it, Beth? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
Her eyes weren’t on him. They were on the figure walking towards them. A figure that, at any other time, she’d have been delighted to see.
‘It’s my dad.’
‘Now the shit hits the fan.’ David held his camera to his chest like a shield. ‘He doesn’t look too happy.’
Grabbing David’s arm, Beth pulled him into the shadow of the cairn. Placing his arms around her waist, she buried her head in his neck. With any luck, her dad wouldn’t recognise her.
She could hear the crunch of her dad’s feet on the stony path, the tap of his walking poles. The footsteps stopped. She held her breath.
‘Sorry… sorry.’ She could hear the embarrassment in her dad’s voice. ‘I didn’t realise anyone was up here, otherwise I would have…’
David’s arms tightened. ‘No harm done, mate.’
It seemed they were going to be lucky. Her dad’s boots were already moving away. But then they stopped. She knew what was happening. He’d seen her rucksack.
‘Beth?’
She turned to him, her face burning. ‘What are you doing here, Dad?’
‘Unless you’ve forgotten, Beth, walking on the fells is my job. More to the point, what are you doing here? And who is this?’
Beth saw it all through her dad’s eyes. The stubbled sandy beard, the long hair pulled back into a ponytail and the camera. It didn’t look good.
‘David’s a friend.’
Her dad raised his eyebrows. ‘A friend?’
‘Yes. We met one day up at the cairn. He’s a photographer.’
‘I see.’ He looked at David, his eyes narrowed. ‘And what is it you take photos of, exactly?’
‘Landscapes mostly. For some of the big magazines – The Countryman, Coast, Country Living. That sort of thing. I’ve just been taking some of Beth as it happens… The light’s been perfect.’
Beth felt her heart sink. Why did he have to say that? It would only make things worse.
Her dad stared at them. She’d seen that look before when he was wondering what would be the best thing to do. Finally, he rubbed his hand down his chin. ‘Well, we’ll leave you to your photographs. Come on, Beth. Your mum will be back from the course soon and I’m sure she’ll want to tell you all about it.’
Taking Beth’s arm, he started to walk back along the path, but Beth pulled her arm away.
‘Can’t I just say goodbye, Dad?’
Her dad nodded. ‘That’s a very good idea, Beth. As you won’t be seeing him again.’
Thirty-Nine
Leona
Colin pulls the car into a lay-by. We are on the outskirts of Church Langdon and it won’t take me long to walk the rest of the way. I’ve been asleep for some of the journey, but during the time I’ve been awake, Colin’s words have been going round and round in my head. A part of me is hoping that if I ignore them, they will somehow go away, but now we’re back, I know I can’t avoid them any longer.
‘You can’t seriously expect me to just pack up our things and leave tonight.’
Colin stares straight ahead. His face set. ‘You know the score, Leona. You always have. If you do anything to endanger yourself, or Beth, we have to move you again.’
‘But Church Langdon is our home and I can’t uproot Beth. It’s her GCSEs soon and she’s already so… so…’ It’s difficult to put into words my worry for my daughter. I give up, trying another tack. ‘And what about Scott? What do you expect me to say to him?’
Colin frowns. This is hard for him as well, I know. Over the years, especially in the early days when I saw him more, we’ve formed a friendship of sorts. ‘We’d come up with another plan.’ He chooses his words carefully. ‘Another story.’
I shudder, knowing what this will mean and, when I hear Colin clear his throat, I realise he knows it too. Witness Protection made me leave everyone I loved behind, once before. What would stop them doing it again?
‘I can’t. It’s impossible.’
Colin turns to me, his eyes imploring. ‘Don’t do this to me, Leona. You know that if you don’t let Witness Protection move you again, they’ll take you off the programme.’
‘Maybe I don’t need
it any more.’
‘There’s something I haven’t told you yet – the reason I tried to get in touch with you.’ He draws himself up and, for the first time, I see in him the uniformed police officer he once was. ‘I’m sorry to tell you Gareth’s parole hearing was successful. He’s going to be released on licence on his parole eligibility date in a couple of weeks’ time.’
‘It can’t be true!’
My head begins to spin and the car feels suddenly very small. Running my hand along the door, I jab at the window button until it lowers. I lean my head out and drag the fresh air into my lungs.
‘Are you all right?’
I pinch the bridge of my nose. ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’
‘I would have but I saw how upset you were about your mum.’ His voice is flat. ‘I’d been hoping that parole would be refused, but, sadly, that hasn’t happened.’
‘But he’s dangerous. He nearly killed me and I was given witness protection. Doesn’t that mean anything?’
Colin shakes his head. ‘Your views in your statement were taken into account, but they’ve decided to go ahead with the release anyway. Since he’s been in prison, Gareth’s taken part in a number of treatment programmes and that’s been viewed positively.’
Icy fingers creep up my spine. I’ve seen this side of Gareth before. Manipulating situations to suit his own ends.
‘It’s an act, Colin. He won’t have changed. I know him too well.’ My voice is choked with emotion. ‘You must know it’s true.’
The resignation in his face says it all. ‘It’s out of my hands and that’s the reason why, if you came off the programme, we couldn’t ignore the possibility he might try to make contact again.’
‘But surely he wouldn’t be allowed to. Wouldn’t there be a no contact order or something?’
‘Yes. He wouldn’t be released without strict conditions to his licence. He wouldn’t be able to make contact with you or go anywhere near your home, and the prison governor will probably argue that a tag will be needed to enforce the exclusion area. As well as that, he’d have to report to a probation officer every day. Breaking any of these rules would mean he’d be banged straight up again.’
His words are a lifeline. ‘Then there’s no need for me to move.’
Colin sighed. ‘Witness protection is for life. There’s a good reason for it. Men like Gareth are unpredictable. We’ve been through it all before, Leona. You know all this.’
‘I hate it. It’s like I’ve stopped owning my life, Colin. I have no control over what happens to me. I just want my life back.’
‘It won’t be much of a life if you’re forever looking over your shoulder.’
I raise my chin defiantly. Putting on a show of confidence I don’t feel. ‘I’ll take my chances.’
‘Then you give me no choice. I’ll make the phone call and this will probably be the last time we meet.’ He leans across and hugs me and, as he does, a car drives past. It looks like Scott’s. My heart stops, but then I tell myself not to be so stupid. He’s not due home until much later.
As I get out of the car, Colin watches me, his concern evident in his frown. I’m just walking away when he lowers the window and calls out to me.
‘Goodbye, Leona… and good luck.’
* * *
When I get back, Scott is already home. It’s been raining and there’s a small puddle of water where his waterproof has dripped onto the lobby floor. His walking boots are on the mat next to Beth’s and both pairs are caked in mud.
‘Scott?’
He appears from the kitchen, a bottle of beer in his hand. He looks tired. His broad shoulders are hunched.
He tries a smile. ‘Good time?’
‘Yes, but it’s nice to be home.’ There’s something in his manner that isn’t right. There have been none of his bad jokes and the laughter has gone out of his eyes.
‘What is it, Scott? Has something happened?’
He glances up the stairs. ‘You could say that.’
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ I try to push down the thoughts that are fighting for space in my head. ‘What’s happened? Is it Beth?’ My brain trawls through all the options; none of them are good.
He sinks down onto the settee. ‘She’s been seeing this guy. Quite a bit older. Looked about mid-twenties. Beth says he’s just a friend – but I’m not so sure. They’ve met up a few times, apparently.’
I’m stunned. My heart racing. ‘But when? She’s either at school or here revising.’
‘She didn’t want to tell me, but I got it out of her. Apparently, she’s been bunking off school. Going off with him in his camper van to God knows where.’
My head’s spinning. ‘How do you know all this?’
‘I caught them together by the cairn after I’d taken the party I was leading back. We’d had to cut the walk short as someone wasn’t feeling well.’
He screws up his eyes as if to rid himself of the picture. ‘He’d been taking photos of her.’
‘Oh, God.’ My stomach clenches. ‘Tell me it’s not what I’m thinking.’
‘No, no. Nothing like that. They were pictures of her sitting on the cairn with Lake Windermere in the distance behind her. The guy says he’s a professional photographer… works freelance for the magazines: The Countryman, Coast, Country Living. But who knows if that’s true.’
‘I want her to stop seeing him.’ My voice comes out too loudly and I glance at the ceiling, hoping Beth hasn’t heard me.
‘Oh, there’s no need to worry about that, I’ve already told her they’re not to meet again.’ He looks at me. ‘Maybe I should contact the police. Just in case. She’s only fifteen, for heaven’s sake.’
My mouth goes dry. I can’t let him phone the police. The witness protection officers I dealt with work separately from those working on criminal investigations. It’s the only way to make sure that we are completely anonymous. The local police know nothing about my past. If they get involved, there will be questions about Beth… about me. Ones I might not be able to answer.
‘Let’s not be hasty, Scott,’ I say. ‘He’s not done anything wrong. It looks like you’ve caught it before it can turn into anything, and you’ve told Beth not to see him again. Let’s leave it at that.’
‘I’m surprised you’re reacting so calmly, Leona. You’re usually the one who likes to keep Beth wrapped in cotton wool.’ Scott lowers his eyes to the floor, the hurt written across his face. ‘I’m wondering if you have your own reasons for not wanting to make a fuss about an unsuitable friendship.’
I’m going to ask what he means, but his face has told me everything I need to know.
‘You drove past me, didn’t you?’ I feel sick.
His face is a picture of misery. ‘Yes.’
I know what he’s thinking. I should have been at a jewellery-making course but, instead, I’m sitting in the car with a man he’s never seen before. If the tables were turned, I’d jump to the same conclusion.
‘It’s not what you think.’
Scott puts his head in his hands and groans. ‘For Christ’s sake, Leona. Give me some credit.’
I think of all the things I could tell him: that the person he saw me with was a taxi driver who dropped me off on the outskirts of town for no reason; that he was someone I met at the station who offered me a lift; that he was on my jewellery-making course and drove me all the way back from London because, guess what, he just happened to live here too.
But Scott’s no fool. With gut-wrenching certainty, I know I have only one option – to go along with what he’s already thinking. That I’ve been having an affair.
Taking his arm, I lead him to the settee. ‘Sit down, Scott. I need to tell you something. Something important.’
The door at the bottom of the stairs is open. Whatever happens, Beth must not hear what I’m going to say. I close it, then join Scott on the settee, our knees touching.
He’s sitting looking at me, waiting for me to say something.
To break his heart. My own heart is pounding. Taking a deep breath, I hold his hands in mine and try to form the words. But I can’t. I just can’t do it. Instead, I tell him the truth.
‘The man you saw me with is Colin. My witness protection officer.’
Scott’s head shoots up. ‘Please don’t joke about this.’
‘It’s not a joke, Scott. My name isn’t Leona. It’s Ria.’
‘What do you mean, it’s Ria?’
I didn’t know I was going to tell him. Not this way, but, now I’ve started, there’s nothing for it but to continue.
‘And Beth’s name is Lily.’
Scott frowns, trying to follow my thread. ‘I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of it.’
I forge ahead, unable to stop. ‘And she’s sixteen, not fifteen.’
His mouth goes slack and I see something akin to fear cross his face. He pulls his hands away. ‘Christ, Leona. Just tell me what’s going on.’
And so I tell him everything: Gareth… The court case… Witness Protection… how I came to be in the Lake District when he first met me. Then I explain how Witness Protection suggested I change Beth’s date of birth by a few months so that she would be in a year lower at school. A precaution, they’d said, in case he tried to find her.
Scott listens, his big head in his hands and, when I tell him about the night my husband tried to kill me, I hear him groan. It’s an animal noise that comes from deep within him.
We sit in silence, then, eventually, he lifts his head. ‘So where were you this weekend? What were you doing?’
‘I went to see my mother.’
‘I thought both your parents were dead.’ Realisation dawns. ‘Of course, it was just another lie. Part of the story.’
I try not to hear the bitterness in his voice.
‘Mum’s got Alzheimer’s,’ I continue. ‘I haven’t seen her in twelve years and I wanted to see her one last time before she didn’t know me any more.’
I bow my head and relief surges through me. For twelve years, I’ve kept my secret. It will be so much easier now that Scott can share it with me.
