Sam was comforted by the certainty in his words, but while he felt Anna relax too, Selina remained stony faced and unconvinced.
18
Saturday 15 August 2015
For the peak of summer, the temperature wasn’t particularly warm and the seamless white clouds covering the sun had also sliced off the top of the Welsh mountains. Sam and Anna said very little on the drive to Pantymwyn but the silence between them was a comfortable one. They were looking forward to their week away, Sam eager to raise a garden from the sodden earth and Anna just as keen to nurture their budding relationship.
Looking through the rear-view mirror, Sam peered through the jungle of plants that had been packed into the back of the Land Rover to check the road behind them. He was searching for the red Volvo that had been following them, but as the Crown pub came into view, the Volvo had fallen back in a queue of traffic. Sam flicked his indicator and kept one eye in the mirror as he made the turn. The cars that had been immediately behind the Land Rover carried straight on and Sam slowed as he waited until the Volvo caught up to him. Finn was behind the steering wheel, wearing sunglasses despite the lack of sun, and he reached his hand out of the window and waved. When Sam lowered his own window and waved back, he could hear the noise coming from the Petersons’ car. They were all singing about being wild rovers.
Anna started laughing. ‘I remember singing that on the school bus when I was a kid,’ she said. ‘I tried getting my class to sing it on one of our trips but the head wasn’t too keen on teaching impressionable young children a song about drinking whisky and beer.’
When Sam drove off again, the roar of the engine silenced the family sing-song and he tried not to notice the anxiety that made his chest feel tight. He was wondering, and not for the first time, if he was doing the right thing. He had been so determined to fight against his urge to retreat that he was in danger of pushing himself too far in the opposite direction. And at the forefront of his mind was Jasmine; the little girl who had resigned herself to living in the shadows; the unseen child that Sam had found impossible to ignore. And not only the child, but the mother too. He had seen Laura only briefly that morning when he pulled up at Finn’s house and waited for the family to pile into their car. Who needed sunshine when there had been so much light in Laura and Jasmine’s eyes? What the hell was he doing?
‘Here’s the moment of truth,’ Anna warned when they came to a stop outside the caravan.
Sam had expected to see Pat’s car parked outside but it was nowhere to be seen. They didn’t have a key and for a moment he thought they might be stranded, but then Pat emerged from the caravan. She was practically skipping.
‘I can’t wait for you to see the work we’ve done, come on,’ she cried as she pulled Sam from the car.
The ground was still drying out from heavy rain showers that had blighted the country for the last two weeks, but at least it had made the earth more malleable for the preparation works. Rather than trail across the mud, Pat and Sam stood on the balcony to take it all in and Sam had barely had time to react before Finn and his family arrived. The cacophony that had been coming from the car was cut off along with the engine and soon after, the head of the Peterson household made his entrance.
‘Hello, I’m Finn,’ he said extending a hand to Pat. ‘This is my wife, Laura, and the little pixie hiding behind her is my daughter, Jasmine. We’re Sam’s reinforcements.’
‘I’m so grateful for your help,’ Pat said, ‘and I hope you have time to relax while you’re here. Hopefully, we’ve made a good start. What do you think?’
Finn pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head as he joined Sam. They both stood with their arms folded as they assessed the situation.
‘Looks pretty flat,’ Sam said, still stunned by the transformation. The area immediately in front of the caravan had been completely cleared. There were huge sacks of sand, gravel and cement and a pallet of flagstones to the front but the rest of the land on the upper level provided the blank canvas Sam needed. He craned his neck to look down the slope towards the furthest end of the garden.
‘We did that too,’ Pat said, reading his mind.
‘What’s with all this we? I hope you haven’t been doing any of the heavy work.’
The old lady slipped her hands into her apron pockets and out of sight, but Sam had already noted the dirt under her fingernails. ‘I might have picked up some of the smaller rocks, that’s all,’ she said.
Sam looked over at what was more like a collection of boulders than rocks. ‘I can make good use of those,’ he said. ‘How about we add a rockery to your design?’
‘It’s your design now and I’m happy to hand it all over to you. My bags are packed and there’s a large pan of scouse on the stove so if you don’t mind, I’m going to love you and leave you.’
‘Are you sure you can’t stay?’ said Finn. ‘We could do with more general labour and I’m not sure this lot are up to it.’ He tipped his head towards Anna and Laura who had been unloading the supplies from the cars while their better halves were busy surveying their domain.
‘Don’t you start,’ Anna said. ‘You two have to be nice to us or you’ll have a strike on your hands by day two.’
Before a war of words could break out, Pat was slipping off her apron and retrieving her bag. ‘I parked down the hill so you could get your cars in,’ she explained, ‘and now I’m off unless there’s anything else?’
Pat had already gone through all the necessary operating instructions to keep the fires burning and the lights on when Sam had visited previously. All she had to do now was hand over the keys. ‘And there’s an envelope on the table in case you need to buy anything else, with enough spare for a nice meal at the Crown for all of you.’
‘You didn’t have to do that,’ Anna said for them all.
Pat was already scurrying down the steps before anyone could argue. ‘It’s the least I could do.’ It was only when she reached the gate that she noticed Jasmine who had been loitering by the car. ‘Ah, I’d almost forgotten about you,’ she said. ‘There’s a job for you too, young lady. See that caravan down there?’
Jasmine followed Pat’s extended finger and nodded. Her eyes were wide with fear and trepidation.
‘Mrs Hayes has sprained her ankle and she has a dog who’s going to miss his walks unless some kind volunteer can take him out once a day. Interested?’
Jasmine still hadn’t found the power of speech but nodded furiously.
Pat hadn’t finished with her yet and pointed to the back of the caravan where there was a small gap between her plot and that of her neighbours. ‘There’s a shed behind there that may look like it’s falling down but it’s jam-packed with all kinds of stuff. There are bikes, tennis rackets, footballs, board games and tonnes of other junk the grandkids have amassed. You have my permission to use them as much as you like.’
Jasmine narrowed her eyes for a glimpse of the metal shed half-buried beneath bracken and a sprawling silver birch. She managed to say thank you before Pat said a final goodbye and left them to it.
‘Right then,’ Sam said. ‘How about we work up an appetite and get stuck in?’
‘Good idea,’ Finn replied, only for his attention to be caught by the oversized shopping bag Laura was about to take into the caravan. ‘But how about we crack open a couple of beers to get us in the mood first?’ He reached into the bag and pulled out two cans, handing one to Sam.
‘Cheers,’ Sam said, knocking his can against Finn’s.
Anna tutted as she went past with another bag. ‘Typical,’ she said. ‘But no more beer until I see sweat on your brows.’
Sam and Finn saluted obediently, much to Anna’s annoyance but they were both raring to go and left half-empty cans on the bistro table as they slipped on their work boots and got stuck into the work.
At the end of that first day the perfectly levelled ground was looking a little the worse for wear after four adults and, occasionally, one eight-year-old girl trampled
the earth to mark out the patio area and move supplies. The weather was ideal for hard labour with no sun to bake the earth or the backs of their necks, nor was there any rain to transform their efforts into a mud bath. By day two the gang had established a routine and the first flagstones were laid, and by day three the patio was complete.
Despite being relative strangers, everyone was getting on surprisingly well. Sam and Finn worked together with ease. When there were decisions to be made about who would do what or what should be done when, they inevitably came to the same conclusions. The only friction arose when Anna tried to make suggestions that were occasionally rational and reasonable, but mostly intended to rile the two men. Either way, they completely ignored her.
Of the group, it was Laura and Jasmine who were the quietest and most accommodating, and Sam found he had to make a concerted effort to involve them in the conversation. Not that there was much opportunity to chat because, other than at meal times, the group didn’t stop, and by the evening their heads were too full of the next day’s tasks to concentrate on small talk.
‘My segs have got segs,’ Finn complained as he dropped down heavily into one of the chairs on the balcony. As usual, they had worked through to the last rays of sun although there was still enough light to reveal the latest board game Jasmine had set out ready on the bistro table. Despite their collective aches and pains, each evening Finn and his daughter had played challenge after challenge with noisy enthusiasm and much to the amusement of the rest of the group. He eyed her choice of game with suspicion, suggesting Jasmine had chosen tiddlywinks to take advantage of his injured fingers.
Sam was sitting on the edge of the steps watching them. ‘I was glad to drop that last flagstone into place,’ he said, tearing his eyes away from the idyllic family scene to assess the day’s progress. ‘I don’t think my back could take any more.’
‘Digging tomorrow,’ Finn reminded him as he flicked his first counter, missing the pot entirely.
Anna came out of the caravan with cans of ice-cold beer and handed them out, keeping one for herself. ‘I’ve just checked the weather forecast and we might get rain in the morning.’
Sam nodded gently; he was only half listening as his mind made final adjustments to the planting scheme they were due to start. ‘That’s not necessarily a bad thing,’ he said. ‘Less watering for Jasmine to do.’
Jasmine had scored her first hit and had a beaming smile on her face as she looked up. ‘I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I like watering the plants, Mr McIntyre.’ When Sam gave her a challenging look, the little girl blushed. She was finding it difficult to adapt to calling her teacher and the park ranger by their first names. ‘Sorry, I mean, Sam.’
‘I must say you’ve done a good job so far, Jasmine,’ said Anna. ‘If I were in charge, the plants would be shrivelled up in their pots by now.’ She opened her can and took a swig before adding, ‘The point I was making was that the weather’s going to take a turn for the better after tomorrow. Assuming the forecast is right, then Wednesday will be glorious, and in my opinion, for what it’s worth, I think we all deserve a day off.’
Sam wasn’t convinced. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to relax until I know the job’s done.’
‘But if we leave it until the end of the week, it might never happen,’ Finn warned.
Laura had appeared at the door but so far no one except Sam had noticed her. ‘What do you think, Laura?’ he asked.
She was surprised and a little flustered that Sam had asked her opinion, but if she had one, she kept it to herself and deferred to her husband. ‘Finn’s right, it might not happen otherwise.’
Finn looked from his wife to Sam as if there was something in the exchange he hadn’t liked. It was the briefest of moments but an uncomfortable one until Laura gave her husband a reassuring smile. He didn’t return it but continued with his argument. ‘And it’s not fair on our Jazz that the first holiday she’s had in years will be spent hauling a watering can around all day, Sam. The only time she’s been out so far is to take that little mutt up the road for a walk.’
‘I don’t mind. I like taking Nando for a walk.’
‘Yeah, but it’s not the same as getting out and about.’
The girl’s face lit up as a thought occurred to her. ‘Maybe we could go for a bike ride, Dad.’
Finn laughed. ‘I haven’t been on a bike since I was a kid, unless you count the time I had a go of yours and bent the stabilizers.’
The memory didn’t evoke the same sense of nostalgia with Laura. ‘Just remember that these aren’t our bikes, Finn,’ she said. ‘If you do use them then you’ll need to be careful.’
Finn put his can down and picked up a counter. ‘I think she means, I should be sober,’ he said, winking at Jasmine.
‘Good, it’s agreed then,’ Anna said. ‘So my next idea is that, rather than wait until the last day before we go out for a meal, why don’t we go tomorrow night? That way we can have a late night and a guilt-free sleep-in on our day off.’
‘So you’re planning on spending Wednesday in bed?’ Sam asked, then blushed when Anna gave him a sultry smile.
She laughed at his embarrassment. ‘No, of course not. I was thinking that we might go for a walk to Loggerheads together. You could take your sketch book.’
His girlfriend had read him perfectly and Sam’s eyes lit up in much the same way as Jasmine’s had earlier. Although they had gone for short walks when time allowed, he was eager to explore the countryside; to relax beneath the shade of a tree and sketch the leafy ferns and knotted roots; or sit down on a rocky outcrop high upon the mountainside and immortalize the view on paper. ‘And what will you do while I’m sketching?’
Slipping onto the step next to him, she rested her chin on his shoulder. ‘I’ll be watching you,’ she said while Sam squirmed, making her laugh again. ‘I’ll take my notepad and do some writing. I have the storyline all set out but I need to hurry up and make a start if I’m ever going to turn our book into a bestseller.’
‘You’re writing a book?’ Finn asked without taking his eyes from the board. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he flicked another counter. It glanced off the side of the pot and the curse he muttered under his breath was all but drowned out by Jasmine’s screech of delight.
‘A children’s book,’ Anna told him. ‘I’m writing the story and Sam’s going to illustrate it. It’s based on the thousand-year-old tree in Calderstones and it’s a collection of tales about people who visited the tree over the centuries. That way it will appeal to the educational market too.’
Finn took a slurp of beer and had a smile on his face when he said, ‘It sounds riveting.’
‘It is! Because it’s not just any tree but the Wishing Tree.’
‘Oh, God, not that again,’ Finn said, raising his eyes in exasperation.
Anna was undeterred. ‘I’ll have you know that tree has extraordinary powers. You place your hand against its bark, feel its power rising up from its roots, and let it read your mind.’
As she spoke, Anna had closed her eyes and raised a hand as if the tree was right there in front of her. No one could argue that she knew how to draw people in and even Finn had leaned forward slightly, although, in fairness, he didn’t need much of an excuse to admire Anna and kept telling Sam how lucky he was. Sam was more interested in Jasmine at that moment and watched her out of the corner of his eye. She had been temporarily distracted from the game at the mention of her favourite tree and found the courage to speak.
‘But that’s not how it works.’
‘Well, we don’t want everyone knowing the real secret,’ Sam assured her. He sensed Finn about to give his daughter another lecture about not believing in fairy tales, so quickly continued, ‘The book is one of Anna’s harebrained ideas, nothing to do with me, Finn. I’m not so sure it’ll work.’
‘It’s good to have dreams,’ Anna said, leaning into him.
Sam pushed his shoulder against Anna’s while his mi
nd resisted her ideas. The only dreams he had were ones that would forever lie out of reach. That was the trouble with the past.
19
Sam’s flat: Wednesday 7 October 2015
Jasper remained on his back and was pawing the air in the hope that Harper would rub his tummy again when another dog began barking outside. The frightened pup twisted around and scraped his claws frantically against the polished floorboards until he reached Sam’s side. He scratched at his master’s bare legs in a desperate bid to reach the safety of his lap.
With a gentle push, Sam helped him up and Jasper licked his face appreciatively, all the while shivering as the barking continued. Through the window, Sam caught a glimpse of a dog handler unit parked on the now busy road. It wasn’t the disciplined working dog at his handler’s side that was causing the commotion, but rather a West Highland Terrier on the opposite side of the road. Its owner had stopped to gawk at what was happening in and around the house and Sam wondered how long it would be before the press arrived and, for that matter, how long the public interest would last once it got going. Whatever was going to happen, Sam was sure of only one thing: he wouldn’t be staying in the house much longer.
Harper looked temporarily distracted too and then asked, ‘You say Jasmine has never been to the house?’
Sam pushed Jasper’s face away from his so he could speak. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Have any of the family?’
Opening his mouth to reply, Sam was already forming the word no but held back from the lie. He was trying his best not to get too anxious by thinking of Jasmine, but he couldn’t keep Laura from his thoughts so easily. He was walking a fine line as he tried to figure out how much he should reveal and how much he should hold back. He was as concerned about defending Laura’s position as he was his own, more so in fact. What had she told the police? What had she told Finn?
‘Can I remind you that there’s a small girl missing, Mr McIntyre, and the longer she remains missing, the less likely we are for this investigation to reach a happy conclusion. Have any of the family been to the house?’
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