by A J Waines
‘I’m not sure I can get that far,’ I murmured, my teeth chattering.
We were in the middle of barely penetrable woodland and I could see no lights ahead. I reached into my pocket. No signal on my phone now, either.
I watched Rosie take in the immediate surroundings; lines of trees, layer after layer, impenetrable undergrowth, the path trailing into the distance. Where dense trees parted overhead, no longer providing cover, everything at ground level was disappearing under a layer of snow. The darkness was gathering momentum too, actively folding around us; the little daylight that was left was sliding down from the sky.
‘I’m not going off on my own,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to leave you.’
‘You’re going to have to. You need to find somewhere you can get a signal.’
‘Let’s at least find a spot where you can sit down and rest for a minute.’
She guided me towards a grassy ridge and helped me down. Barely any snow had got through to ground level at that point, so at least it wasn’t too wet.
I checked my watch. Nearly 4.30pm. It was only going to get darker and colder.
‘Looks like you’re stuck with me for a bit longer,’ said Rosie. ‘I wonder how long the batteries will last.’ The bright torch beam Rosie had bragged about wasn’t exactly blinding.
‘I’ve got one, too,’ I said, patting my rucksack.
She sat down beside me on the grass, then wriggled an inch or two to her right so that our arms were touching. I bent down to scratch my leg and pulled away a fraction.
‘What shall we talk about?’ she said. Far from sounding daunted, Rosie seemed uplifted by the situation. She didn’t wait for a response. ‘I’ve got you all to myself.’
She swung her legs back and forth, full of energy.
‘Do any of your patients ever become friends?’ she went on, without looking my way.
A loaded question. Difficult territory. ‘Very rarely,’ I said casually. ‘And only after a considerable break, usually by chance, further down the line.’
‘Can we do that? Be friends in a couple of weeks?’
I let out a tiny splutter of disbelief. ‘It doesn’t really work like that.’
An anguished look crossed her face. ‘You want our sessions to end when we get back to London. That’s the idea, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, that’s what we agreed.’
‘You agreed,’ she said quietly.
‘Our relationship is unbalanced,’ I said. ‘It’s not really like being friends. I’m helping you with something specific and you’re paying me for that service. That’s not being proper friends, is it?’
‘But it could be – I just stop paying you and you stop trying to dig up my lost memories. Finito.’ She smiled. ‘We’re not taping this – so you can tell me what you really think.’
‘I…am saying what I think, Rosie.’
‘No, no, no.’ She shook her head with irritation. ‘I can see the terrible “professional versus personal” dilemma you must have been going through, but it’s okay now. We can’t carry on working together as therapist and patient. I get that. You want to end the professional side of things so we can have a proper relationship; closer, more real, like best friends or sisters – no more barriers, that’s it, isn’t it? Not a physical relationship, we’re not lesbians or anything – just together…’
‘No, Rosie. That’s not how it is at all. You’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion completely.’
‘I know this is confusing,’ she went on, regardless. ‘I know something happened before with another patient that…caused problems, but this won’t be like that, I promise.’
I snapped my chin back. Where the hell had she got this from?
‘Rosie, I don’t know what you think you know, but there’s no hidden agenda or mixed message here. Our sessions will end after today and we’ll have no further contact.’
She slapped her hand down onto a clump of moss. ‘Can’t you shake off the therapists’ cloak for FIVE MINUTES?!’ she fired back at me. ‘Then we might be able to have a normal conversation.’
I fixed my eyes on hers, my gaze unwavering. ‘I’m sorry, Rosie. Once our sessions end we can’t just carry on seeing each other socially.’
‘But…I thought…’
Her mood changed in a flash; a frown knotting in consternation across her forehead. ‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’
It was my turn to be baffled. Where was this coming from?
‘Let’s see if I can walk,’ I said, using a tree stump to heave myself upright. ‘It’s getting dark.’
The last thing I needed was to be stuck out here with Rosie and her awkward questions.
As soon as I put weight on my ankle it screamed, but I was determined to get moving. Rosie hooked her arm under my shoulder and we staggered back to the path.
‘If I keep my foot off the ground, I should be okay,’ I said, forced to lean into her for balance. I held the torch and we hobbled forward at a snail’s pace.
‘Tell me about this new man you met recently,’ I said, willing the discussion towards a different direction.
‘Oh, I said it was a guy so you’d think I’d been chatted up, but it was just a woman I met in a café. She’s all right, but she’s not very interested in me. That’s why this…you…have become so important.’
My head began to swim and I felt it roll against Rosie’s.
‘You okay?’ she said. ‘You’re shaking like mad?’
‘I feel really sick.’
‘It’s probably the shock. We’ll be at the road soon.’
I pulled out my phone again, but there was still no signal.
‘Do you love Con?’ she said out of the blue, rocking me slightly as we shuffled unsteadily onwards.
‘Con?’
‘Conrad Noble, you know, the one you went out with.’
How did she know about him?
‘Con and I split up ages ago,’ I said to satisfy her.
‘But you miss him?’
‘Sometimes. Feelings don’t always stop, just because you know someone isn’t right for you.’
She seemed to consider my words and started to hum tunelessly.
‘It’s been strange coming back here,’ she said, after a while. ‘It hasn’t got us very far has it? I still don’t know where my viola is. The business about the fortune under a bridge has led to a dead end. I’m not sure what I expected, really. Bit stupid to think I’d get the right bridge. What was I hoping for? A half-buried chest of jewels or a suitcase full of bank notes? Ha – what an idiot…’
She stroked a stray strand of hair from my eyes. She was more or less holding me upright now, both arms clasping me against her body like she was dragging a heavy sack.
‘Not that it matters, anyway,’ she went on, ‘coming back wasn’t about the stupid “fortune” anyway.’
The world around me was fading in and out. I thought at first I was dipping in and out of consciousness, then I realised it was the torch.
‘It’s going out,’ I muttered.
‘We’ll wait until it’s gone completely. Then we can use yours.’
We struggled on in silence for a while until the beam tailed off altogether, forcing us to stop in the middle of the track. It was impossible to know how far we had to go. The stretch of wood ahead of us looked exactly the same as the one we’d just walked through; everything turning white as though it was being slowly erased from existence. We could have been going round in circles for all I knew.
Rosie pulled me closer so she could reach behind me and open my rucksack for the other torch. She pressed her hand against my forehead. ‘You’re a bit feverish,’ she said.
The beam from my torch was orange instead of white, not as bright as hers and already quivering when she switched it on. It lasted about twenty seconds, then went out like a dubious omen.
‘What do we do now?’ I mumbled, my thoughts sketchy and feeble with the combination of pain and cold.
‘We’ll think of som
ething.’
Making any headway was hopeless without the torch; the air felt heavy, as if we were wading through water. When I looked up there were only tiny fragments of sky beyond the treetops and they were saturated with snow, blocking out any light from the stars.
‘Who knows how this might end?’ she said, her words coiling out of the gloom. She laughed. ‘Our relationship, I mean.’
The message from Minette flashed into my mind and for the first time I felt a tremble of genuine fear. Had Erica really been pushed down the stairs? Had that triggered the heart attack that killed her? When, exactly, had Rosie had her last appointment? I didn’t want to think about it, I couldn’t afford to let my mind wander off towards what it might mean.
I could hear Rosie breathing in small snatches beside me. She was oddly unperturbed by our worsening situation. We were lost, I was on the verge of passing out, we couldn’t see a thing, it was getting colder and colder and no one knew we were out here.
‘You’ll have to go,’ I told her, standing on one leg clutching a thick branch. ‘Go and find the road on your own. I’ll wait here.’
It was our only chance, wasn’t it? I wasn’t sure. My mind wasn’t working properly.
‘I’m not leaving you, Sam,’ she said firmly, finding my face with her icy fingers and stroking my cheek. Her breath was in my face. ‘I’ll never leave you.’
‘You have to,’ I insisted.
‘Everything’s going to be all right,’ she whispered, nuzzling into my neck. ‘Whatever happens, we’ll be together.’
I wanted to pull away more than anything, but I needed her support. ‘Tell me how you really feel about me,’ she said. ‘Please. The truth.’
‘Rosie, I don’t think—’
‘Come on…tell me…I know it’s been hard for you to be honest in our sessions, because there are so many things you’re not supposed to do. I know you’ve been trying not to cross the line…’
I couldn’t cope with this right now.
‘Rosie, I might have a broken ankle…I’m in pain, I can’t think straight...’
She put her arms around me, dragging me back towards a fallen tree trunk. I wanted to resist, but there was nowhere to go. She pulled me down and began making little cooing noises in a world of her own.
‘Let’s rest and huddle together for a while,’ she muttered, snuggling into me, almost smothering me, rocking me and humming, like a mother with a child. ‘We can stay here as long as we want, can’t we?’ she whispered, pressing the words into my hair.
‘Rosie, no…we should keep—’
I froze sharply.
‘Did you hear that?’ I said.
A branch snapped.
‘Someone’s coming,’ I said, trying to stand.
‘I didn’t hear anything,’ she muttered, her grip suddenly vicelike around my head, trying to press my mouth into her coat so I couldn’t be heard.
There was a rustling sound then a spot of light popped up ahead through the thick mass of branches.
With a twist and a shove, I pulled away from her. ‘HELP!’ I yelled with all my might. ‘We’re over here. We need help…’
A dog barked and came bounding towards us, then a voice rose out of the undergrowth.
‘Who’s there?’ It was a deep male voice. ‘What are you doing out here in the dark?’ He flicked his torch over our faces and we were forced to shield our eyes.
‘I’ve hurt my leg; I can barely walk,’ I told him, clinging on to a branch.
The dog barked again, snuffling at our pockets.
‘She won’t harm you,’ he said, as the beam flickered across Rosie’s forlorn face.
I mistook his meaning for a second, then almost wanted to laugh. I leant down and patted the dog’s back in gratitude.
‘I’m the gamekeeper – just doing my rounds. Let’s get you out of here.’
Chapter 39
Sam
I’m a bit hazy on how I got back to the B&B. I remember the quality of the air changing from chilly to icy and the moon bobbing in and out of the treetops like a balloon. I remember being helped into a Land Rover and Rosie’s hand gripping mine all the way back to my B&B. I didn’t have the energy to pull away.
My landlady wanted to take me to hospital, but I insisted I just needed a good night’s sleep. It was a sprain I was sure of it, but if anything was broken, I’d know by the morning.
Rosie helped me upstairs to my room while Mrs Waterman filled a hot-water bottle. She knew the gamekeeper and invited him in, making us all a pot of tea.
‘How strange that your friend was staying in the B&B over the ridge…?’ she said, leaving two steaming mugs beside my bed. She glanced over at Rosie, clearly trying to work out the dynamic between the two of us, then backed out of the door, leaving us alone.
Rosie plumped up the pillows and suggested she slept on the floor overnight to keep an eye on me.
‘I’m fine,’ I lied, remaining seated on the edge of the bed.
We supped our tea in silence.
‘You go back to your B&B; they’ll be wondering where you are,’ I said, as soon as she’d finished her drink. ‘Go now, so the gamekeeper can walk you over. We’ll get separate trains in the morning, like we agreed. I’ll catch the one at half-past nine.’
‘But, what about my last session?’
‘I can’t walk, Rosie. You could go back along the road on your own, tomorrow, and record whatever comes up for you, but I can’t go with you.’
‘It wouldn’t be the same,’ she said. ‘It wouldn’t work.’
‘I’m sorry, Rosie – it’s over.’
Her bottom lip began to tremble. ‘There are still millions of loose ends about the crash. I can’t bear it. You’re saying it’s all over and I’ve got to carry on as if nothing’s happened. It’s too much to cope with.’
‘Yes. That’s why I think it would be good for you to work long term with someone else.’
She turned to me, fingers at her mouth, like a toddler. ‘So this is it then?’
‘Yes, it is,’ I said, staying perfectly still. ‘We’ll say goodbye and we won’t have any more sessions or any more contact when we get back to London. I think we’ve done a pretty good job, both of us, under the circumstances. This mystery has been a tough nut to crack and I’m really sorry it hasn’t been solved. And I’m sorry your viola’s gone. I know that’s a big disappointment to you.’ I smiled. ‘You’ve been very kind, helping me just now, but nothing’s changed.’
In fact, if anything, her overly attentive behaviour in the woods had left me decidedly uneasy and it hadn’t escaped my attention that she’d been undeniably annoyed, rather than relieved, when the gamekeeper came to our rescue.
Rosie stood by the bed, waiting, no doubt hoping I’d change my mind.
‘So, we’re not going to see each other…meet up or anything…back in London?’
‘No.’
‘It’s not fair,’ she huffed.
I winced and shuffled back towards the pillow. ‘I’m tired, Rosie. Goodbye.’
She got as far as the door and opened it, then fiddled with the latch, standing half in and half out of the room.
I cleared my throat. ‘Take good care of yourself,’ I said.
‘Yeah…’ she muttered.
She walked out and pulled the door to, disappearing on to the landing.
In an instant, I was reaching for the bedpost so I could hobble over to the door. I turned the key in the lock and rested my back against it.
Why had I let Rosie into my life? What had I done? She was like a smouldering touchpaper creeping way too close to a huge pile of gunpowder. What would have happened out in the woods if the gamekeeper hadn’t found us? It didn’t bear thinking about.
I rang Minette as soon as Rosie’s footsteps had faded away.
‘You got my message?’ she asked.
‘Yes, and it’s got me very worried,’ I said. ‘I’ve just been with the patient you know as “Kitty”, as it happens.’ I brie
fly explained the situation, giving Rosie’s real name.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
‘Well, my ankle’s not great, but I’m okay.’ I drew a breath. ‘I’m not at all comfortable with the situation here. I’m coming back first thing tomorrow. Is there anything else you can tell me about Erica’s death?’
‘Only that it’s clear Erica scheduled her last session with “Kitty”, aka Rosie Chandler, earlier that day.’
‘That day? You mean Rosie was with her the day she died?’
‘Yes, but there were witnesses who saw her leave the house and Erica was seen alive and well shortly afterwards.’ She sounded in a hurry. ‘I’ll let you know if I hear anything else. You just be careful, okay?’
Chapter 40
Rosie
I’m in a state. Sam has seriously gone down in my estimation. We were together at last and everything was suddenly giddy and spine-tingling between us, but she didn’t seem to want to talk about ‘us’ at all.
I went out of my way to look after her, but she hardly showed any appreciation for my help. I soothed her and comforted her and all she could say was that she wanted us to stop seeing each other. Unbelievable. Nothing about ending the sessions and moving into a close friendship. Nothing about that AT ALL. I’m gutted. She’s led me on all this time, making me think I was special and that she wanted to be my friend, but it was all FAKE.
When I suggested we went to the Lakes, I laid it on a bit thick about feeling suicidal. I wanted to give her a solid justification for making the trip, so it would look better to the authorities she has to show her cases to.
The bottom line is that she doesn’t seem to feel what I thought she did. I thought she was struggling with her feelings about me, because she wanted to stay professional about it. I thought once our appointments stopped everything would take off between us, but apparently not. I’ve given her plenty of opportunity to turn our situation into a proper friendship, but all she’s done is fob me off. I can’t believe it. She’s just like all the others.
