by Nell Grey
Shaun’s first assessment had been right. There was a hole in the roof on the right wing, and the rain had gotten into that part of the building causing a fair bit of rot and damage to the rooms. But it was all fixable, Shaun decided as he wandered around, now feeling increasingly pleased with his settlement from Her Majesty’s Government.
Leaving Celia busy with her list, the men went outside to explore the barn to the side of the house.
Pulling open the large wooden door, Shaun peered in. The main barn was a large cavernous space. It had been used for stabling and storage.
At the far end of the barn was a wooden partition. It was puzzling. The barn had seemed to extend further from the outside. Shaun absently ran his hand along the joint above him until it hit a bump. It was a peg.
He pulled at it and felt a catch, and then the giving way of a door that opened in his hand.
“Hey, Frank! There’s another space behind here.”
The ground floor of the room beyond had been used for storage too. There was an ancient bicycle with wobbly-looking wheels, a wheelbarrow, an old push lawnmower, and a full collection of spades, axes and other utensils that would come in quite handy.
“Hey, I’ve got myself a boat!”
Shaun’s eyes were fixed on a Canadian canoe, perfect for pottering on the lake.
“Good-oh.”
Shaun looked up. Above the storage area was a beam.
It was odd. Why would the beam run across the middle of the barn, like that? Unless...
Grabbing a set of ladders, he carefully placed them against the beam and climbed up.
“What’s up there?” Frank called from the bottom, where he was holding the ladders firm.
It was a hidden mezzanine loft.
“A mattress with a quilt.”
Shaun swiped the torch on his phone to see more clearly into the shadowy corners.
“And there’s a small stove.”
“It’s a sleepout.”
“Maybe.”
Shaun climbed back down the ladders. It looked more like a safe room to him. A place to hide.
“Us Kiwis love a bit of camping and extra space for visitors.”
Shaun checked himself. There he was again, projecting his damaged mind. Frank was right. It was a sleepout.
They wandered out of the shed.
“What was that?”
Shaun flicked around as he heard it again by the side of the barn.
“What?”
Something moved to the side of Frank, followed by a squawk.
“I don’t bloody believe it.”
Frank bent down and peered into the thick spiky manuka bush beside the barn.
“It’s Rowdy.”
“Rowdy?”
“Yeah. Rowdy the Rooster. Gave him to Jake a few years back. Must be getting on a bit by now.”
“So, Jake had hens here?”
Frank pointed to the wire netting on an old makeshift compound across the yard.
“Looks like a chook pen to me.”
They strolled back towards the house, wandering lazily over to the lakeshore in front of the lounge windows.
“How come a fulla like you lands himself a piece of prime Kiwi real estate, then?”
“It’s hardly prime, Frank.”
He was making a new start. Frank and Celia were the only friends he had on this side of the world and he didn’t want to lie to them, but he couldn’t tell them the whole truth either.
“It was a settlement. I did some work and the payment from the British Government was the deeds to this place.”
Bending down Frank picked up a stone to skim.
“I guess this may seem like the perfect spot to you. But the reality is, out here’s a tough place.”
The stone made seven perfect bouncing arcs across the mirrored lake.
“If I were you, I’d sell it and buy a bach at the beach, so’s you can go surfin’ and have some fun. Not be stuck out here on yer tod.”
Shaun contemplated Frank’s words as he picked up a flat pebble and then skimmed a perfect seven-bouncer.
Why was Frank so negative about this?
It was so peaceful here. Idyllic even.
Shaun put it down to ignorance. The bloke had probably never travelled. He’d lived here all his life; he didn’t realise what a special place it was. And anyway, Shaun didn’t think of New Zealand as being particularly lawless, not compared to the places he’d been to. If there was any trouble, he was confident he could soon sort it.
“Nah, the beach’s not for me.”
Frank sighed.
“I reckoned as much. But, there’s things about this pl...”
“Frank! Where’ve you got to?”
Celia bounded out of the kitchen door, nearly sticking her foot into the hole on the porch decking.
“What’s up?” Shaun asked.
Frank went towards her.
“Celia, what you flappin’ like an ole chook about?”
“Ah, nothing. I... I got a little freaked out there on my own. I… I heard a noise.”
Celia smoothed over her hair with her hand.
“Hope you’re not scared of the odd possum?” Frank joked, looking at his wife. “Being out here doesn’t suit everyone.”
Shaun shrugged.
“You like it out here, don’t ya?”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, mate.”
“Me either. I can see there’s a lot of work needed.”
“Yeah. She’s a doer-upper, alright.”
“And I haven’t got anything else to do... Besides, I kinda like it here. It’s peaceful.”
Frank sniffed.
“Quiet as the grave.”
Celia shuddered.
“You’ll be needing a builder.”
“I can do the work myself.”
Frank studied the old lodge resignedly.
“If you need tools, you’re welcome to borrow what I’ve got.”
“Thanks, Frank.”
“And you’ll be staying with us, at least until you can get the electric put on,” Celia added.
Shaun studied them both. They’d been so generous and open-hearted. Salt-of-the-earth folk. He’d been lucky to have met them.
“I’ve burdened you enough. You’ve both been very kind.”
“Ah, no worries.”
And that was that. Celia bulldozed all Shaun’s protestations.
“By rights, we’re neighbours now. And you’re gonna need all the help you can get, I reckon.”
Frank put his arm around Celia’s waist.
“But, what a view, eh?”
“Yeah, you can say that again,” Shaun agreed.
It was the first time he’d noticed it. The lake from the house was like a perfect mirror reflecting the rolling volcanic hills covered in the native forest around it.
“It’s a special place, alright. And when I’m done, I’ll cook you a barbie.”
Frank chuckled.
“Now you’re talkin’ We’ll make a Kiwi of you yet.”
Chapter 6
---------✸---------
Hugging little Aaron, and then my flatmate Courtney, I fight back the tears.
“You take care, Claire,” she whispers to me, her voice catching.
I hoist my backpack over one shoulder. It’s so heavy, I wonder how I’m going to cope. Everything I own and need is in this pack.
“Promise to send us some of your lovely photos. I want dolphins, Auntie Claire.”
“I’ve packed my camera, so I’ll see what I can do. Be a good boy. I miss you already!”
And with that, I’m out of the door and down the stairs to the high street to wait for my free ride to London with Jac and Annie. They’re getting themselves matching tattoos for some loved-up reason that I’m not even going to ask about.
They pull up soon after and I throw the rucksack into the boot. Annie moves to sit in the back with me.
“I can’t believe you’re finally doing this.”
/> She seems more excited than me.
I’m heading down through France and Italy to Greece. Then over to Crete and the job in a café.
My stomach flips as it dawns on me, I’ve never been further south than Birmingham.
And to be honest, the scar isn’t helping my confidence any. I’ve been trying to cover the red welt stretching down my neck with scarves and high-neck jumpers, but I know I won’t be able to when I’m travelling and the weather’s hot.
“Does it look bad?” I ask Annie tentatively.
“Claire, you look great. You always do. Don’t worry about the scar. Your hair covers it.”
“Thanks, Annie. You always make me feel good.”
Perhaps there is such a thing as true love, I consider as I watch Jac and Annie chatting as we drive along.
I curse under my breath as ironically at that moment when I’m thinking about him again, The Killers begin blasting Mr Brightside out from the car stereo. ‘It was only a kiss.’
“D’ya think Sion did it?” I ask Annie quietly as we sit in slow-moving traffic on the motorway. We’ve skirted around this issue before but I’ve never asked her straight out.
“No.”
I’m shocked. She says it so matter-of-factly.
“But the police said…”
Annie squeezes my hand.
“He definitely didn’t. The detective was way off beam. My dad hanged himself.”
“But... how can you be so sure?”
“Claire, my dad was a man of many layers and plenty of problems. He was really ill, I get that. But he had a mean streak too. That wasn’t his illness, it was part of him. A raging, violent temper that the drink brought out. The tattoo I’m getting done on this trip, it’s to cover this. See?”
She lifts her loose t-shirt for me to see. There’s no mistaking the deep scraped out indentation across her shoulder blade.
“Shit, Annie!”
“Belt buckle. It caught me when he was whipping me.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“About my dad?”
She shook her head.
“It was complicated.”
I get the impression that she’s not said much to anyone about this before, apart from Jac who’s designed the tattoo that’s going to cover it.
She pulls her t-shirt back down and I catch them looking at each other in the rearview mirror.
“I sometimes wonder how different things would’ve been if I’d’ve gone with him.”
I utter the words half to myself as I stare out of the window at the motorway traffic in the opposite lane. I squash the unwanted feelings of desire that well up deep inside of me when I think about him.
“Never look back,” Annie advises wisely, offering me a bottle of water.
◆◆◆
“Jase, mate!”
Jac warmly embraces his old army buddy as Annie and I stand behind him on the doorstep of his South London flat.
“This is Annie.”
It seems odd meeting Sion’s friends.
Jason is tall, dark-haired and like Jac and Sion, he has an air of calm authority about him that puts me immediately at ease.
“And this is Claire.”
Jason kisses me on the cheek and I can feel his eyes lingering on my neck as he moves away.
“You’re off travelling, I hear?”
“Yes.”
I try to keep my voice upbeat but seeing people’s reaction pains me more than the cut did.
“I’m on the Eurostar to Paris the day after next. This is my first time in London, so while these two lovebirds are gettin’ inked up, I’m gonna make the most of it and be a total tourist.”
“Wanna guide?”
“Alright,” I answer a little surprised. “That’ll be cool.”
After a few drinks in Jason’s local pub, we’ve gone back to his flat with a mountain of Chinese takeaway food.
Annie sighs and pushes her bowl away.
“This is my guilty pleasure. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve eaten way too much of this.”
I don’t disagree.
“Certainly beats airline grub,” Jason agrees, helping himself to another prawn cracker.
I take one too.
“Must be so glamorous, though. Flying everywhere. Seeing new places.”
“I see a lot of airports. And airport hotels… Sure, I do get to go to exotic places, but it’s not much fun on your own.”
“Well, if you ever fly in near where I am, give us a shout.”
I colour up.
“Oh God! That sounded awful. I don’t mean that in a booty call kinda way. I meant as travel buddies.”
“Bet you get plenty of booty call offers from women when you put that airline pilot uniform on,” Jac teases.
Thankfully, Jason laughs it off.
“It’s okay, Claire. You’re not my type anyway.”
He gives me a knowing look and I smirk back at him.
Jac doesn’t seem to have worked it out, and Jason hasn’t told him.
Much later, Annie and I turn in and leave the boys to catch up over a bottle of duty-free whisky that Jason has produced.
But, I can hear every word from the bedroom through the thin plasterboard wall, and I can’t help but listen to what they’re saying.
“So, what d’ya think?” I can hear Jac say.
“The girls? They’re great.”
“No. I meant about Sion? Did ya know the truth about him?”
Jason is silent.
All evening, Sion’s absence has felt like a presence in their company as they’ve skirted around what happened. It’s only now that they’re alone that they begin to talk freely.
“Only me in the dark, then?”
I can hear the tinge of hurt in Jac’s voice.
Unable to stop myself, I edge out of bed and open the door.
“He told me too, the night before he went into witness protection. About his work undercover.”
They turn around and stare at me standing in the doorway.
“Come and join us,” Jac urges. “Wanna dram?”
Dressed in my pyjamas, I shuffle up next to Jac on the sofa.
Between us, Jason and I patch together what we know. In turn, Jac sits there quietly, listening, taking it all in.
Jac bends his head and clinks the ice of his whisky.
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He wanted a safe place. A bolt hole, where no one would suspect him. That’s why you were out of the loop. He only told me the bare minimum too. Said it was safer that way.”
“He was right about that,” I add, unconsciously touching my neck. “He only came clean with me because he wanted me to go away with him.”
“But you stayed?”
“I did.”
I take a sip of the peaty whisky.
“I didn’t believe him.”
Jac stares at me intently.
“Claire? Why? If Sion said he didn’t do it, then he didn’t do it. He would never lie to you.”
“You so sure? After everything you’ve heard tonight?”
Jason pours us more whisky.
“So you think Sion strung Glyn up and killed him?” Jac mutters, “Never mind the practicalities of that, what was his motive? Why did he do it? Or d’you agree with the detective and think that me and Annie hired Sion to kill her parents so we could inherit the farm?”
“No! ‘Course not,” I backtrack, horrified. “You’d never do that. Oh, God! Is that what the detective said?”
I can feel my eyes burn and I swallow the hard lump that’s forming in my throat.
“But he did do bad shit for a living. He’s killed people.”
Jac looks away. There’s no denying what Sion has done.
“He was undercover, Claire. He was following orders like we all did as soldiers.”
I breathe heavily. There’s nothing more to say. I’m fully aware of the mistake I’ve made.
◆◆◆
The next
day Jason takes me literally everywhere across London. We ride the hop-on-and-off double-decker tourist bus past Buckingham Palace and Hyde Park. It’s hot and the gentle breeze blowing onto us as we sit up top in the fresh air is welcomingly refreshing.
Jason’s been great company, and I knew straight away that we’d get on.
“What was going on last night?” I ask as we go over the bridge towards Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. “You’ve not told Jac you’re gay?”
Jason shrugs.
“Jac’s never asked. With him farming and me flying, I’ve not seen him in ages.”
“And Sion?”
He’s quiet for a bit.
“You gotta remember, Claire, we were in this macho culture.”
“Yeah, but there must have been others?”
“Oh God, aye. But we kept it… discreet. Things are changing, but it’s never easy to come out, especially in that kinda environment.”
We carry on with our tour, making our way over to The Shard where we see all of London stretching out below us from the viewing deck on the seventy-second floor.
“St Paul’s looks so tiny.”
I’ve brought my camera along to take some photos but the wind blows my hair across my face and it’s too difficult to get a good shot.
“Don’t be ashamed of it,” Jason says out of the blue.
I lean up against the glass barrier, embarrassed.
“I’m not, it’s windy, that’s all.”
“Think of the scar as a battle wound, Claire.”
I try to brush my hair back to cover my neck.
“How did you meet Sion and Jac? ‘Cos you were in the RAF, right?”
“Yeah. Helicopter pilot. I flew them out of the sticky messes they’d gotten themselves into. Unless Sion had other ideas, that was.”
“What d’ya mean?”
He tells me about an operation where Jason flew them into a village and under heavy gunfire, Sion sprinted across a courtyard and rescued an interpreter.
“Sounds like Sion’s pretty fearless?”
“Yeah. He was an amazing soldier. He saved that man’s life that day. Claire, I know Sion as well as I know myself, and I’m certain that he’d never kill a civilian in cold blood.”
