by Karen Clarke
‘I’d like to say goodnight to her, at least.’
He nodded. ‘Just call – she’ll be there,’ he said. ‘Remember the time difference.’
‘I will.’
‘Daddeeee!’ Hayley ran through and hurled herself at him.
‘Hey, munchkin.’ Face transformed, he hoisted her up, and she wrapped herself around him like a koala, nuzzling his cheek.
‘Good morning, Matt.’ Pam had followed, arms belted around her waist. She didn’t look disapproving exactly, but her tone lacked its usual warmth.
‘Hi, Pam.’ There was a touch of sadness in Matt’s response as he registered her lack of enthusiasm. He’d encouraged Hayley and Pam’s relationship, knowing they both got a lot out of it. It must pain Matt that, in her eyes, he was less of a person for leaving us. ‘How’s the garden?’ he asked, as if desperate to connect. ‘Not much rain lately.’
‘A bit thirsty at the moment,’ she replied, thawing slightly. She could never resist talking about her pride and joy. ‘I’ll be glad when this dry spell’s over.’
‘I think we’re due a storm soon.’ Matt tried to put Hayley down, but she brought her knees up, so her feet didn’t touch the floor. ‘Mummy nearly swimmed yesterday,’ she announced. ‘She was in the big pool with Marianne and Charlotte and me.’ She’d been tickled by the whole thing, repeating it to Pam, who’d missed the excitement having ‘popped to the ladies’ room’.
‘That’s great,’ Matt said flatly, and I knew instinctively that even though Hayley hadn’t mentioned Vic, he was attributing my ‘nearly swimming’ to him – something else Matt had tried and failed to achieve. I couldn’t tell him the truth – that I was as far from swimming as I’d ever been – without revealing I’d only been in the ‘big’ pool because I was terrified Hayley was drowning. ‘Time we got going, Missy.’
Finally letting go, Hayley unwound herself and dropped to the floor her bottom lip stuck out. ‘I want Mummy to come.’ Before I could respond, she brightened and reached for her case. ‘I can carry this by myself,’ she said, tugging it so hard it tipped. ‘I’ve got baby dinosaur and Mr Wobbles, and four books and all my best clothes and I’ve got to wear my sun-scream and a hat.’
Matt smilingly took the suitcase from her. ‘Let me carry that, and give Mummy a kiss,’ he said gently.
Hayley let go of the suitcase, pursed her lips and screwed her eyes shut. ‘I want Baxter.’ The dog, sitting by Pam, whined at the mention of his name.
‘Baxter’s fine. You go and have a nice time,’ Pam said, a little too heartily. ‘We’ll be here when you come back.’
My heart felt as if it was being squeezed. Hayley was acting up because she was overwhelmed. Crouching, I held out my arms. ‘Give a hug, ladybug.’ She folded her arms. ‘Blow a kiss, jellyfish?’
‘Yuck!’ She scowled and turned away.
‘Hayley, that’s not very nice.’ Pam sounded shocked.
‘Say goodbye nicely,’ Matt said.
‘It’s fine.’ I drew Hayley close and wrapped her unyielding body in a tight hug, understanding that she didn’t want to say goodbye. I knew that once she was in the car with Matt, she’d be fine and would barely give me a second thought. It hurt, but perversely I was glad. She was happy with her dad, her grandparents, her cousins, my parents – all the people who loved her nearly as much as I did. She could be happy without me.
My throat tightened as she darted past Matt and out through the front door.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said quietly as we followed. ‘A break will be good for her.’
I knew he meant a break from me.
Unable to speak, I was careful to keep a smile on my face as I watched him strap her into the car, checking the seatbelt was safely plugged in.
‘Love you,’ I mouthed, blowing her a kiss.
Caving in, she grinned and blew kisses back, flapping both hands as Matt got in and started the engine before pulling away with a toot of the horn.
‘I’ll miss the little mite.’ Pam was on the doorstep, watching Matt’s car disappear. ‘I think he will too,’ she said, ruffling Baxter’s silky ears. He was staring ahead with a doleful expression. ‘And I’ll miss you, Beth,’ she said, as I tried not to cry. ‘It won’t be the same, the house empty.’
‘I know, but it’s only for a few days.’ My voice was strained with the effort of holding back tears and, as if sensing I wanted to be alone, Pam bent to pick up Baxter.
‘I’ll leave you to it, love.’ She tucked the dog under her arm like a parcel. ‘I expect Vic’s on his way back.’ If she’d wondered why Vic had insisted on asking her round, she hadn’t mentioned it, too happy to be included in our daily routine.
‘Sure you don’t mind keeping an eye on things while we’re away?’
‘Of course not – it’s no trouble at all.’ She paused in the kitchen, on her way to the back door. ‘Where is it you’re staying again?’
‘Wayfarer’s Cottage.’ I felt a twinge of apprehension. ‘Near Penzance.’ I couldn’t quite bring myself to say Perran Cove.
‘Well, it sounds lovely,’ Pam said firmly, as though convincing herself. ‘I really hope it helps and you come back a whole new woman.’
‘Me too.’ My smile felt tight.
Coming back alive would be enough.
*
‘Why don’t you take the red dress? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in it.’
Vic was in the bedroom doorway, watching while I haphazardly threw some clothes into a holdall. ‘We can go out for dinner while we’re there.’
I glanced at the open wardrobe. I knew the dress he meant. It was Matt’s favourite. I’d ordered it online, and wore it to dinner once with Jude and Lewis across the road, while Mum and Dad looked after Hayley. It was our first night out since Hayley was born, and neither of us could stop fretting about how she was doing without us. We’d gone home early, and once my parents had left, and we’d reassured ourselves our daughter was perfectly fine, he’d told me how beautiful I looked, before peeling the dress from me and lowering me onto the bed.
After he’d gone, I dreamt I was in the sea, the folds of the dress drifting around me like blood, Matt calling my name from the shore, too far away to reach me.
‘I’m not really a dressing-up person, I said, pushing the memory away, hoping Vic hadn’t noticed the tremor in my hands as I zipped my bag shut. ‘We should probably go.’
We hit slow traffic as soon as we reached the M4.
Vic hadn’t said much, other than to ask if Hayley had got off OK and to say that someone at the hospital had mentioned a house for sale they thought we might be interested in. ‘It’s in Watlington, so only about fifteen miles away, and apparently the house has an annexe you could use as a studio.’
‘Not sure my parents will like us moving all that way out.’ I was only half-joking.
Vic was silent for a moment. ‘Maybe it’s time to cut the apron strings.’
‘I like being close to them,’ I said, but remembering the look on Mum’s face in the kitchen the day before, I wondered whether he was right. Maybe if I’d never moved back to Oxford, Jamie would have had a better relationship with our parents – but if I hadn’t moved back, I wouldn’t have met Matt or had Hayley, and I doubted me living miles away would have stopped my parents from fretting; it might have made things worse.
When Vic didn’t reply, I glanced through the car window, trying not to think about where we were going, how far we’d be from home. Pam had popped back round with a packed lunch for our journey and I took out a bottle of water and had a swig.
I laid a hand on Vic’s knee. ‘Can we forget about yesterday?’ I said, the argument we’d had fresh in my mind. ‘I don’t want things to be awkward between us.’
He turned to me and smiled. ‘It’s forgotten,’ he said, with an air of relief.
I smiled back, noting the sunglasses on top of his head. He was wearing leather sandals with rolled-up chinos and a light grey, short-sleeved shirt, clearly in ho
liday mode.
‘You are sure about this?’ he said. ‘It’s not too late to turn back.’
‘I’m sure.’ Smile fading, nausea swirled through me as the reality of our trip hit home. ‘I can’t believe we’ve another three hours of this.’
Everyone in the country seemed to be heading in the same direction. I’d read that Cornwall was the most popular holiday destination for Brits because the beaches and atmosphere made them feel like they were abroad. Right now, I wished we were going abroad. Or, that everyone else was.
I wondered how Hayley and Matt were; where they were. He’d messaged from the airport about an hour ago with a photo of him and Hayley, their smiles strikingly similar. The pang of loss I’d felt had made me feel untethered, as though I might start shouting.
‘Look, why don’t you call Rosa?’ Vic’s voice was a welcome intrusion. ‘Just for an update.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ I said, grateful for the suggestion. I hadn’t told him I’d tried to phone her while he was putting our bags in the car, worried after his comments the day before that he might think I was being paranoid. My call had gone straight to voicemail and I daren’t leave a message, certain now that Jamie was monitoring her phone. I didn’t want to risk speaking to him. ‘Maybe she’ll have some news.’
Something about the way Vic’s posture changed told me he hoped she wouldn’t, that he didn’t want anything to overshadow our trip, but he nodded anyway.
This time, Rosa answered right away. ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘How are you?’
‘OK, I think.’ I hesitated, wondering how things were with her and Jamie, whether I’d made them worse now she was keeping things from him. ‘You know Vic and I are on our way to Cornwall?’
‘I do.’ She’d lowered her voice. Was Jamie listening? ‘I can liaise with the police there if you like and put them in the picture.’
‘You could?’ The feeling of relief was instant and overwhelming. ‘I would really appreciate that, Rosa.’
‘I’m not saying there’s much they can do, but an officer could come and speak to you, put your mind at rest.’ I gave her the address. ‘If someone knows where you’re going and they see the police turn up, it might be enough to frighten them away.’ Rosa thought I was in danger. ‘You should keep your phone with you all the time and make sure it’s switched on.’
‘I will.’
‘Good,’ Rosa said. ‘And don’t go anywhere on your own.’
‘I … I won’t.’ Blood was pulsing hotly in my temples.
‘It’s just a precaution,’ she said, as if suddenly realising the impact of her words. ‘I know it’s hard, but try not to worry.’
‘I’ll try.’
Vic mouthed, What?
I shook my head, half-wishing I’d made the call in private.
‘I was going to ring you earlier,’ Rosa went on, ‘but I got called to a burglary in progress.’
I sat up straighter. ‘The footprint?’ Out of the corner of my eye I saw Vic frown and remembered too late that I hadn’t told him about it. ‘Did you find out who it belonged to?’
‘No, sorry,’ she said, regretfully. ‘Only that it was around a size eleven, so probably male, a boot of some description.’ I thought of Jamie’s boots, kicked off in his study. ‘The image was too faint,’ Rosa continued. ‘We’d need to go round and do a proper impression transfer, look for other evidence – fingerprints, hair fibres, that sort of thing.’ She sounded as if she’d relish the opportunity, but she probably wasn’t thinking along the same lines as I was. What if the boot did belong to Jamie? I didn’t know his shoe size. Could I ask Rosa to check? But I didn’t want to put her off, and she might check anyway.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ I said. ‘It probably has nothing to do with anything.’ I remembered something she’d said. ‘So, why were you going to call?’
There was a pause, and I felt a ripple of premonition. I knew what she was going to say.
‘I’ve got a name for you.’
The car suddenly felt smaller, less full of air. ‘Go on.’
‘The man who saved you,’ she said. ‘His name is … was … Mike Barrett.’
Chapter 23
Mike Barrett. Such an ordinary name. Mike. Michael? ‘How old was he?’ Stupidly, it was the first thing that came into my head.
‘Forty-two.’
So young. I lowered the window, taking tiny sips of air that smelt like petrol. ‘Where did he live?’
‘Not that far from where you’re going, actually.’
Vic had put the handbrake on. I felt his eyes burning into me, knew they’d be full of questions, but all I could see was the name Mike Barrett as though it was written in front of me in flashing lights.
‘He was local?’
‘Not exactly.’ Rosa sounded to be tapping a keyboard. ‘From London, originally,’ she said. ‘He married a Cornish woman, a few years younger than him.’
Mike Barrett. A flesh and blood man with a family, just as I’d always suspected. He had a wife, who’d mourned him for twenty-six years.
‘Children?’ My voice was so low, Rosa didn’t hear. She was saying something else and I had to ask her to repeat it.
‘I’m trying to find her, to ask if she’ll speak to you while you’re down there.’
My throat was so tight with emotion now it was an effort to push any words out. ‘This is more than I was expecting,’ I managed. ‘I … I don’t know what to say.’ A thousand questions flooded my mind. I didn’t know where to start.
‘You don’t have to say anything.’ Rosa sounded cautiously pleased. ‘I’m glad I could help.’
‘I need to find out where he’s buried.’ Beside me, Vic went still. ‘Maybe his wife will tell me that, if she agrees to talk to me.’
‘Beth, don’t forget, if what’s been happening at home is linked in some way, meeting her in person might not be a great idea.’
That’s what we’d been told all those years ago. Better not to stir things up; leave well alone; give them their privacy. Maybe if we’d met when it happened there would have been some closure on both sides.
‘I’m happy to talk to her on the phone,’ I lied. Somehow, I’d have to persuade her to meet me. In therapy training, I’d learnt all about restorative justice; how face-to-face meetings between victims and offenders helped to facilitate forgiveness. Our situation was different, but I had a feeling we’d both benefit from looking each other in the eye. ‘Will you let me know as soon as you find her?’
‘As long as you promise not to rush into anything,’ Rosa said sternly. ‘Talk it through with someone first.’
‘I will.’
If she guessed it wasn’t a proper promise, she didn’t comment. ‘I’ll contact the local police and someone will be in touch.’
‘Thanks again, Rosa.’ I swallowed. ‘This means a lot to me.’ In the background, someone called her name.
‘Sorry, Beth, I have to go,’ she said. ‘Take care.’
I ended the call and dropped my phone in my lap. Nothing had changed. Traffic was still at a standstill, sun shimmering off the river of tarmac in front of us, the sky above intensely blue, but I felt as if a seismic change had happened.
‘Are you going to tell me what that was all about?’
Vic’s voice was an intrusion. My feelings had been scrambled and I needed to gather them together, arrange them logically.
Mike Barrett. The man who’d died so I could live. If I could talk to his wife, tell her how sorry I was, if I could see she’d found happiness again – even visit his grave and say thank you … maybe, finally, I’d be able to lay down my guilt.
‘Beth?’
A gulping laugh escaped my throat. ‘Rosa gave me the name of the man who drowned,’ I said. ‘He was called Mike Barrett.’
‘Beth, that’s … God, that’s huge.’ Vic was looking ahead, fingers drumming the steering wheel. For a second his profile looked carved and remote. ‘How do you feel?’ he said, his eyes returning to mine.
‘I … I don’t know.’
‘What was all that about a footprint?’ He released the handbrake as the traffic started moving, picking up speed.
‘Oh, that … I thought someone had been in my studio at Mum and Dad’s,’ I said. ‘Rosa was going to check it out.’
‘How come you didn’t say anything?’
‘I forgot.’ He was more concerned about that? ‘Vic, Rosa said she’s trying to get hold of Mike’s wife.’ I sounded dazed. ‘He was married.’
The car swerved suddenly. ‘Sorry.’ Vic took his foot off the accelerator. ‘She must have moved on since then though, surely?’
‘I hope so,’ I said fervently. ‘But don’t you see?’ I swivelled to look at him properly. ‘I could talk to her, Vic. Say my piece, tell her I’m sorry for her loss.’ I gripped his forearm, warm beneath my fingers. ‘I’ve waited so long for this.’
He tossed me a glance. ‘I know you have, Beth, and it’s great but …’
My hand fell back to my lap. ‘But, what?’
‘What if everything that’s happened is linked?’ He sounded like Rosa now. ‘What if he had children like we said, and one of them has traced you, been targeting you?’
I thought again of Jamie. ‘I don’t think it is that, Vic, but even if it is,’ I rushed on as he started to speak, ‘then there’s even more reason to talk to his wife – his widow. Don’t you think?’
‘I don’t know, Beth.’ His expression was concentrated, but I had the feeling he wasn’t seeing the road ahead. ‘I think you need to tread carefully.’ Another quick look. ‘What else did Rosa say?’
I told him she’d offered to contact the local police.
‘I’m not sure that’s necessary.’ I noticed a whitening of the skin on his knuckles. ‘Not while you’re with me.’
Despite warm air sweeping through the open window, a chill brushed over my skin. ‘It’s just a precaution,’ I said, echoing Rosa’s words.
‘I suppose I just wanted us to enjoy a few days away on our own, without all this hanging over us. Get you used to being by the sea again.’ Vic shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. ‘I’m sorry.’ His lips pressed into a smile. ‘I’m being selfish, but it really matters to me.’
