‘I’ll be waiting outside,’ Will said, ‘I’d appreciate it if you could catch his attention.’
Will made his exit, unlocked the car with the remote and made a start clearing the windscreen which had become misted up in the cold. The car started on the second turn of the key and he switched the fan onto a full blow. He waited while a half-drunk Tony staggered toward the 4x4 and got into the driver’s seat.
Will was examining his phone again when Tony’s glaring headlamps shocked him away from looking at his screen. Tony messed up his gears and the massive 4-wheel drive crunched into his boot, shunting the vehicle forwards slightly.
‘Oh shit!’ Will said aloud. His phone fell on the floor and he scrambled to pick it up. Tony’s engine roared behind him as the requested car shuffling manoeuvre was poorly executed at Will's rear. As the device came back into view, Will saw that Lucia’s phone had found a connection once again. She was at the railway station. He’d found her.
Tony had reversed his vehicle fully now and was staggering out of the driver’s door to assess the damage that he’d done to Will’s car. But Will didn’t care about that. He moved the gear stick and screeched away at speed, eager to catch up with Lucia before she moved on. Tony was left calling after him.
‘Hey, mate, we need to talk about insurance!’
The railway station was ten minutes away. The traffic was light now, so he made good progress. He almost made a wrong turn, forgetting the station had been relocated since he and Charlotte had first come to the resort. As he came off a roundabout, with the new station just ahead in the distance, Will saw a blue flashing light coming up behind him. He didn’t care - he had to find Lucia. He pulled up in a bus stop just ahead of the railway station, put his hazard lights on and ran towards the platforms, ignoring the police car that was slowing just behind him.
There she was, standing on the platform, looking like she was awaiting the arrival of the next train to Lancaster.
‘Lucia!’ Will called, holding up his hand to get her attention. He ran up to her, aware that he was now being pursued by two police officers on foot.
Lucia dropped her backpack onto the floor and rushed at Will, burrowing into him as she used to when she was young, her arms around his neck and sobbing.
‘Oh Dad, I’m sorry! I just want to go back to Bristol. I hate it here! I’m just so unhappy at the school.’
The two police officers caught up with them, out of breath from trying to catch up with him.
‘We need to have a word with you about your car, sir. Did you know that your rear brake light is out?’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Present Day - Morecambe
It was an unusual start to the morning, even though they hadn’t had a chance to establish a new routine yet. Charlotte felt unwell from the moment she woke up. She was so exhausted that she had to think through the events of the previous night to figure out who was still in the house. They’d given Lucia the day off school, with the head teacher’s blessing. They all needed to talk, but they were just so relieved to have her back home, safe, after the fright of the day before.
She’d had to go and pick up Lucia from the police station. They’d wanted to check Will’s car paperwork and, having smelled beer on his breath, he had to go through a breathalyser test. They also wanted to be certain that Lucia was in no danger from Will. Under any other circumstances, Will and Charlotte would have been grateful for the care the police had taken over their daughter’s wellbeing, but it just made a bigger mess of the evening than it had already been.
Will ended up in a taxi anyway, in spite of his earlier reluctance. The police had insisted that the car was taken to a garage, so Charlotte had to collect him and Lucia, but they didn’t get back to the guest house until after eleven o’clock. By the time Charlotte had stayed with Lucia in her bedroom until she dropped off to sleep, Will was out cold in their own bed, mentally exhausted by everything that had happened.
The next day, Olli was out to school and Will was up for work. Charlotte came around to the sound of Isla downstairs, capably dealing with the guests. There was a man’s voice too, but she couldn’t quite place it.
Charlotte desperately wanted Will there, to talk about what he’d done at the holiday camp and where that left them. She needed to tell him about the room booking by Bruce Craven. And he’d mumbled something the previous night about Abi - that she was still living locally. It was becoming too much. Whatever else happened that day, they needed to sit down together and thrash it all out later on.
She got out of bed and made her way to the family kitchen. Will had left a hand-written note on her placemat.
Go easy on Lucia today. We need to talk. Tonight, I promise. Will x
She walked across the hallway to Lucia’s room. The door was slightly ajar, enough to see her daughter was fast asleep.
Charlotte gently pulled the door shut, showered and dressed and made her way down to the kitchen. Isla was working there.
‘I’m so sorry to abandon you once again…’ she began.
‘Oh, it’s no trouble my dear. Besides, Will told me you’d be up late today, so I planned around it.’
‘Thanks for helping out again. I assume Will updated you on what’s been going on here since we saw you last?’
‘I’m just pleased that you found Lucia safe and sound,’ Isla said. ‘After I left last night, George and I exchanged mobile phone information. We were chatting away until the small hours on our phones. I can see now why you youngsters never have them out of your hands! It turns out George and I have quite a lot in common. We were at the same school - well, there was only one upper school in town at that time - but I was in the year above her. How much of a coincidence is that?’
‘That’s amazing,’ Charlotte replied, distracted. ‘I suppose if you spend all your life in a small resort like this, you’re bound to bump into people you know.’
She looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was past nine o’clock; the local newspaper office would be open by now.
‘Are you alright to check the guests out Isla? They’ve all pre-paid, so there’s no money to collect. We’re quiet again tonight.’
‘What about that Mr Craven I told you about yesterday? Did he cancel?’
‘I don’t think he’ll be arriving tonight Isla. I think it might have been kids messing around.’
Charlotte wanted to speak to Nigel Davies at the paper, anxious to see what became of Bruce Craven after he left the holiday camp. Nigel would know. A journalist always had ways of finding someone.
She left a note on the table for Lucia.
Get Isla to serve you up breakfast in the downstairs kitchen. I’m heading into Morecambe - we can talk when I get back. You’re NOT in trouble. Love you, Mum. xxx
The home phone rang as she was about to leave. It was the garage, wanting the go-ahead to make a start on the car repairs.
‘I think we’re going to have to sort out the insurance first,’ Charlotte said. ‘Can you work up a quotation? I’ll try and make a start with the insurance later.’
With that done, she headed into town on foot. Her phone dinged as she walked along the sea front, the cool air waking her up at last.
It was Jenna.
Enjoyed seeing you again. Want to do it again sometime soon?
Love to! Charlotte replied. Same place at midday?
Jenna sent a thumb icon back. With a few texts, a coffee date was set up and confirmed.
The newspaper office of The Bay View Weekly was located in the town centre. Charlotte wasn’t entirely sure where, but she knew it wouldn’t take long to find. She was right - the old-fashioned shopfront was central, making it easier to get there on foot than it would have been to drive and pay for parking.
A bored receptionist sat on a chair behind a desk. Behind her was a wall of previous newspaper headlines.
Sea Defence Proposals To Be Discussed By Council
Death Of Stalwart Councillor, Aged 92
Popular Au
thor To Visit Resort On Latest Book Tour
Photo Exclusive! Fat Cat Rescued From Heysham Tree
The receptionist didn’t look up immediately. When she did, Charlotte saw that she was chewing gum. Her nails were immaculately manicured, her eyebrows sculpted to within an inch of her life.
‘Can I ‘elp yer?’ she asked.
‘May I speak to Nigel Davies please? Is he in?’
‘Not sure, ‘ave yer got an appointment?’
‘No, I’m sorry, I didn’t think to call ahead. It’s about a news story he covered last week. He’ll know who I am. It’s Charlotte Grayson.’
The receptionist made no acknowledgement of the information. She picked up her phone and pressed some buttons. Charlotte caught a glimpse of her name badge. Her name was Reagan and she was, apparently, a Customer Service Executive.
‘Is Nigel up there?’
Reagan spoke into the mouthpiece.
‘Nah. Nah. Yeah. Alright.’
She put the phone down.
‘Yeah, Nigel’s in. E’ll be down in a mo. Take a seat!’
Charlotte was dismissed. She looked behind her for the aforementioned seat. There were two of them, constructed from metal with orange padded vinyl for comfort. She sat in the one that looked cleanest and a gush of air shot out of the side as she placed her weight on it. Reagan looked up with a disgusted look on her face, as if Charlotte had just passed wind.
It was an old building and Charlotte could hear muffled voices and creaking floorboards above her. Then, she heard a door slam upstairs, rapid footsteps down the stairs, and Nigel Davies appeared, a photographer trailing behind him, two cameras on straps around his neck.
‘Hello, Mrs Grayson,’ he said, recognising her straight away. ‘I’m so sorry, I won’t be able to see you right now. We’ve just received a tip-off for a big story. In fact, you’ll probably be interested in it - I’m sure you mentioned that you and your husband used to work there years ago.’
‘Oh yes?’ Charlotte asked, disappointed not to be able to speak to him about Bruce but intrigued by what Nigel had said.
‘Yes,’ he continued, ‘You know the old holiday camp at Middleton? They started digging out there first thing this morning. Apparently, when the contractors moved in, they found the security guard had been bludgeoned in the grounds overnight.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
1984 - Sandy Beaches Holiday Camp
Ignoring the voice from the shadows, Bruce Craven darted at speed towards Will, who was clutching his face, still in shock at the violence that had been directed at him.
‘Leave him alone!’ Charlotte screamed, pulling herself up off the ground and rushing over to help Will.
Bruce drew back his right foot, goading her to stop him, ready to deliver a violent kick to Will’s ribs. He sneered at Charlotte, but before he could deliver the blow with his booted foot, he was taken down to the ground, completely oblivious to the man who’d come to Will’s defence.
The man was nowhere near as well built as Bruce but made up for that with a well-targeted tackle which brought him crashing onto the grass.
Bruce was only stunned for a moment. Charlotte was making a lot of noise, shouting at him to stop, imploring him to back off. But the man in the blue shirt was calm and steady, waiting to see how this would play out.
Charlotte studied him in the semi-light, his face now partly illuminated by the first streetlamp at the entrance to the camp. It was George, the friendly porter. At least they had someone in authority on their side; Bruce would have to back down now.
‘Walk away,’ George said, his eyes fixed on Bruce. They were opposite each other now, hands clenched, ready to fight if the wind blew that way. Will was still nursing the blow to his face. Charlotte was desperate to end the confrontation but had placed herself in the middle of the standoff. Bruce pushed her out of the way once again and she fell at Will’s side.
Before George could move to help her, Bruce took advantage, charging at him and sending him flying into a bed of roses.
Charlotte winced as he landed on two of the bushes, imagining the thorns scratching his skin as he landed.
Bruce didn’t give him time to pause. Running towards him and picking him up by the front of his shirt, he lifted him effortlessly and spat into his face.
‘We walk away when I say it’s time,’ he seethed at George, throwing him to the ground just beyond the planted bed. He was moving in to deliver a kick, when George thrust out his leg, tripping his assailant and sending him to the ground for a second time. George moved fast, wasting no time. He flipped himself to his side, stood up and jumped on Bruce while he was still on the grass, pinning down his arms.
Bruce struggled with the fury of a caged beast, spitting at George and subjecting him to a tirade of swearing and abuse. George held firm, using his position of advantage to pin Bruce to the ground. However much Bruce struggled, he couldn’t release himself from George’s grasp. Eventually he stopped struggling. Will and Charlotte recovered themselves and walked over.
‘You’ve got a simple choice,’ George spoke calmly. ‘You can walk away from this and there won’t be a problem. Leave this couple alone, stay out of their way, and we can all get on with our lives. But if you insist on escalating this, you’re going to force me to report you to the management. You’ll lose your job and you may even end up in trouble with the law. All you have to do is walk away.’
‘It’s over, Bruce,’ Charlotte pleaded. ‘You must see that we can’t carry on now. Not after this. Especially after this.’
Bruce was silent. Charlotte looked at the thorns stuck in George’s leg. He must be in some considerable pain, but he wasn’t letting on.
‘Can I release my hands?’ George asked.
Bruce said nothing but nodded. Slowly George released his grip, expecting Bruce to strike back at any moment, but nothing happened.
Cautiously, George stood up, offering his hand to help Bruce get up off the ground. Bruce didn’t take it, choosing instead to get back on his feet unaided.
George was clearly still alert, expecting the fight to continue. Bruce stood up fully, puffing out his chest and flexing his arms, fists fully formed.
‘It’s over… for now,’ he said menacingly. ‘If you want to shag this student slag, that’s up to you,’ he seethed at Charlotte. ‘But what you need is a real man. I’ll bide my time. But it’s not over until I say we’re done.’
Bruce jumped at them, making George tense immediately. Will and Charlotte stepped back, praying for it to be over now. But Bruce was just re-asserting his power, and didn’t strike. Instead, he began to move as if he were heading off back into the camp. As he skimmed past Charlotte, he suddenly made a turn, lunged forward and spat in her face.
‘Slag!’ he shouted. ‘You were a lousy lay anyway.’
At last, he walked off up the main drive of the holiday camp, leaving the three of them in silence, stunned by what had just happened.
Charlotte wiped her face and Will placed his hand on her shoulder.
‘Is everybody alright?’ George asked.
‘I think so,’ Will said. ‘He’s a strong bloke.’
‘Yes, he is. Are you okay?’ George continued, looking at Charlotte with concern.
‘Yes, I think so,’ she replied, struggling to fight back the tears. It was a combination of fear and relief, combined with elation that she might finally be free of Bruce.
‘Come into the porter’s lodge,’ George said. ‘Let’s get everybody patched up and have a drink. I think we all need to calm ourselves down a bit.’
He guided them towards the lodge and unlocked the door.
‘Well, he’s a nasty piece of work, isn’t he?’ George said, flicking the switch on the kettle.
‘I’m so sorry I caused all this trouble,’ Charlotte began. ‘I didn’t know Bruce was like that. He was nice to me when we met… I’m sorry he hurt you. Thank you for helping me.’
George put his hand up. ‘That’s all on him,’
he reassured her. ‘It’s nothing to do with you. He chose to behave like that, that’s just the way he’s wired.’
‘Should we report it to the police?’ Will asked.
There was silence. George moved over to him to study his face.
‘Has he broken your nose?’
‘No, he skimmed my nose and struck my chin. It’s sore, but there’s no lasting damage. If you’ve got some paracetamol, that will help.’
‘What about the police?’ Charlotte asked. ‘I mean, that was assault wasn’t it? He’s crazy. Would the police do anything?’
‘I’d appreciate it if we could keep the police out of it,’ George said, searching his drawer and locating the drugs Will had just asked for. ‘It’s a bit difficult for me.’
Will and Charlotte looked at each other.
‘What’s the problem?’ Will asked.
‘This job means a lot to me,’ George explained. ‘I’ve had some trouble of my own with the law in the past. Nothing serious, but when I left the armed forces, it was hard to find work. Let’s just say I did some things that I shouldn’t have. I’m determined to put that right though - this job gives me a chance to put my life back on track. They’re used to working with all sorts of people in these places; they overlooked my police record for petty theft. I’d just like to keep my nose clean and my head down if I can. If I can get by without landing in any scrapes, I might just make something of this job. It would mean a lot to me.’
Charlotte looked at Will, searching his face to try and read his thoughts.
‘Do you think he’ll attack us like that again?’ Charlotte asked.
‘I certainly hope not,’ George answered. ‘Once he calms down, I’m sure he’ll see the sense of backing down. After all, we all need the work here. If he causes a fuss, he knows the police will get involved and then he’ll be booted off the premises. I reckon most of the people working here - with the exception of the students - most of them will have some sort of past. If you can steer clear of him, I think the situation might resolve itself. If it doesn’t, you have my word, we’ll all report him to the management.’
Left for Dead Page 14
