Then the woman in the snow moaned.
The Shapeshifter looked down at her, and he lifted the thing in his hands, which Mary saw was a shovel, above his head. At the same time he saw Mary at the door and for a second he froze.
Adam ran around the corner and for an instant was confronted with a frozen tableau. Angela lay motionless on the ground while a figure stood over her poised to strike her with a shovel. He glimpsed Mary at the open door.
A roar of sound shattered the silence and a tongue of flame lit them all like a photographer’s flash. The figure standing over Angela was lifted from his feet and flung backwards through the air.
And then everything was deathly quiet.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Adam rose from his seat and shook hands with Findlay. Outside at her desk Janice waited anxiously for him to emerge. Findlay had banned her from hearing what Adam had to say until he had heard it first.
‘What will you do?’ Adam asked him. ‘Will you give her the story?’
‘Aye,’ Findlay said. ‘But I’ll make her sweat a wee bit more first.’
‘You know she’ll want to know everything the second I walk out of here.’
Findlay put his hand on Adam’s shoulder. ‘Tell her. And when you’ve finished, tell her to come and see me.’ He opened the door. ‘You know, Adam, has it occurred to you that if you had told me all those years ago what you saw, none of this might ever have happened?’
Was that true, Adam wondered? Even if it was it made no difference, and Findlay knew that himself.
‘But then I expect the world would be a very different place if we could all see into the future,’ he said. ‘If you’re ever back this way again, come and see me.’
‘I will, Jim. Goodbye.’
As he left Janice rose from her desk and when he went over she glanced over his shoulder towards her boss’s office. ‘You owe me,’ she said.
‘And I always pay my debts. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.’
They went to the pub on the corner, and when they were sitting at a table he told her everything. She didn’t touch her drink, but put her recorder on the table and listened intently. Then she shook her head in amazement.
‘So, Judith Hunt is Meg Coucesco’s child?’
‘Yes. We’ll never know exactly what happened, but my guess is that the child Meg was carrying was unwanted by the gypsies. Perhaps she’d been raped, or perhaps the father was simply some boy she’d met outside their own community before they arrived in Castleton. Whatever the reason, James Allen had dealings with the gypsies and he also knew Jones, who was working at Carisbrook. Webster claims that it was Jones who came up with the idea of swapping the babies after Hunt’s wife had a miscarriage. It doesn’t really matter though; either way Meg’s baby was sold, probably against her will. I imagine that was part of the reason she decided to run away.’
‘And also why she came back,’ Janice guessed soberly. ‘She wanted her baby back.’
It was the conclusion Adam had drawn too. She had probably read about the search for her and about Allen’s arrest. Perhaps she thought that in return for getting Allen out of trouble with the police, he would get her baby back. She wouldn’t have known what Nick and David had done.
‘Do you think Nick Allen meant to kill her?’ Janice asked.
Adam considered his answer. He’d thought about what David had told him, that Nick had claimed it was an accident. But Nick must have been terrified of what would happen once his father found out what he’d done. ‘Yes, I think he probably did,’ he said at length.
Janice turned off her machine and they finished their drinks. As they went to the door she said, ‘You know the development won’t go ahead once all this comes out.’
‘That’s something isn’t it? At least Jane got what she wanted in the end.’
Outside Janice put her hand on his arm. ‘One other thing. When did you realize that James Allen wasn’t dead?’
‘After I saw Hunt and realized who his daughter really was. I knew Nick and the blackmailer had to be working together, but after Nick was killed I knew it couldn’t have been Jones. With Nick dead Jones would have had nothing to gain from the sale of the cottages. He’d have had no claim on Nick’s estate. That didn’t leave too many options. And then I remembered something Dr Hope at the Barstock Clinic had told me. She said that when Jones had first arrived he was badly scarred, but I didn’t pick up on it at the time. There was a gap of several months after he left Carlisle before he started at the clinic, something else I should have wondered about.’
‘He was in hospital?’
Adam nodded. ‘Dr Hope also said that Jones was practically incompetent when he arrived. Not surprising given that he had probably never been anywhere near a hospital for the mentally ill before that. I suppose Allen and Jones must have left Carlisle together. They both had their reasons to leave. After the accident Allen saw an opportunity to swap identities. I imagine he just walked away from the wreck and left Jones to burn. At least that way he’d never have to look over his shoulder for gypsies wanting revenge.’
‘But why did Allen kill Nick? Nick was his own son.’
‘There was never any love lost between them. David said that the night he’d confronted Nick about Meg he also told him he’d seen his car the night Ben and his friends were killed. Nick denied it was him but he must have known it was his father. I think at that point Nick knew his friendship with David was finished, which I expect he blamed his father for. They had an argument that got out of hand and Nick ended up dead. After that I think Allen planned to convince Mary to kill herself and then he was going to turn up and claim the estate.’
‘How was he going to explain the fact that he’d been living as Jones all these years?’
‘He didn’t kill Jones, only took advantage of a situation. Considering what he had to gain I doubt that he was worried unduly.’
‘Nice guy,’Janice said. ‘So, you think he ran Ben and the others off the road and killed Jane?’
‘Almost certainly.’
‘Do you think it was him that tried to kill you too?’
‘We’ll never know,’ Adam said, though privately he had his doubts. He thought that had probably been Nick. He turned up the collar of his coat. ‘Anyway, you better get back to the office. Findlay said to tell you he wants to see you.’
Janice made a face. ‘I expect he’ll give me a lecture before he lets me have this story.’
Adam grinned. ‘I expect you’re right.’ They shook hands. ‘Look me up if you ever come to London.’
‘You can count on it,’ she said.
He had no doubt that he could.
He was already packed, his bags waiting inside the door of his room. The girl at reception regarded him curiously as he paid his bill, no doubt wondering about the things she had heard. As he left she expressed the hope, American style, that he would have a nice day.
He lingered in the car park for fifteen minutes and then looking at his watch he thought that perhaps she had decided not to come. He didn’t really blame her.
But in the end she arrived just as he was getting into his battered Porsche. They both got out of their cars. She was lovely, he thought, and even now an echo of regret lingered.
‘How’s the head?’ he asked.
‘I’ll live.’ Angela gestured to his car. ‘You’re ready then?’
‘As I’ll ever be.’ Their awkwardness with one another was apparent to them both. ‘What will you do now?’
She gave a small shrug. ‘We’re taking it a day at a time.’ She hesitated uncertainly. ‘What I mean is, I don’t know if we can get past this, but we’re going to try. I’ve accepted the offer to have my books published in America.’
‘I’m glad for you. Both of you.’
She frowned slightly. ‘Are you?’
‘If it’s what you want.’
‘He’s really not a bad person, Adam,’ she said. ‘But I suppose you can’t ever forgive him for what he
did, can you?’
‘I don’t know about forgiveness. I can’t forget it though.’
‘That’s what he said. I wanted him to come and see you before you left, but he didn’t think you would want that.’
And he was right, Adam thought, though he didn’t say as much. Besides, he doubted David wanted to see him either. There seemed little else to say. He sensed Angela’s discomfort. More than anything he wanted to tell her that he was sorry. There was a distance between them that he thought was because she must have felt that he had used her in a way. He wanted to say it wasn’t like that. He had believed that he loved her.
But some things are best left to lie because nothing either of them could say would entirely alter what had happened.
‘Do you think you’ll ever come back?’ Angela asked.
‘No. I don’t think so.’
She nodded as if she hadn’t expected any other answer, and perhaps also because it was one she approved of, then she leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. His cue to leave.
‘Goodbye, Adam.’
‘Goodbye, Angela.’
He watched her get in her car and drive away. Her life would change. The development was on hold and once the investigations over planning permission began it was likely Forest Havens would pull out of the deal. David might face criminal charges; at any event the sawmill, the entire town, would face tough times. Adam wondered if Angela and David would survive what was ahead, and he thought they would. When all was said and done they loved each other.
She stopped at the road, indicating right, and then turned and was gone. He didn’t think that she had looked back. Something he ought to bear in mind himself, he mused.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
On the way back to London he decided he should wait a few days before he went to see Karen. Though he’d already spoken to her by phone and given her the basic facts so that at least she could talk to Ben’s sister, there was a lot he hadn’t said. In the event, though, when he arrived in London that evening he changed his mind. He’d wasted enough of his life already and he drove straight to her flat.
She was surprised when she opened the door. ‘Adam. You’re back.’
‘In the flesh. Can I come in?’
She stood aside and in the living room she gestured for him to sit down. ‘Drink?’
‘Thanks.’ Suddenly he wasn’t sure where to begin. Karen handed him a Scotch and sat down opposite him. He cleared his throat. ‘There’s a few things I didn’t mention on the phone.’
‘Oh?’
‘The, uh, fact is …’ He paused. This was harder than he had expected. How did he begin to explain it all?
‘Just say it,’ Karen said, watching his internal struggle.
He took a breath. ‘You remember that night we, er, spent together? I made a mistake. I mean the morning after we … after I …’
‘Got up and left?’
‘Yes. I shouldn’t have.’ He paused. It wasn’t really true that he shouldn’t have left. With the benefit of hindsight maybe, but then at the time he didn’t have that benefit. She watched him steadily and he saw that she wasn’t planning on making this easy. Perhaps it was too late. Perhaps he had lost his chance.
‘The thing is, I’ve spent a long time running away from the idea of getting too close to anybody,’ he said.
‘And?’
‘And I don’t want to do that any more.’
She considered this for what felt like a very long time. Finally she said, ‘You know, I don’t know anything about you.’
‘There’s a lot to tell.’
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
He put his glass down and started to get up, but she raised a hand to stop him.
‘That doesn’t mean I’m about to fall at your feet in gratitude, Adam, in case you had any such notion.’
‘No, of course.’
‘I don’t know what the hell went on up there in Cumbria, but I do want to know. All of it. Understood?’
‘Understood.’
‘Because I think there was somebody there you once knew. A woman.’
Women’s intuition, he thought. ‘There was.’
‘Did you love her?’
‘I once thought I did. The truth was that it was more a case that she represented something that I’ve never been able to forget.’
‘Which is?’
Good question. It was complicated. He’d felt guilty about Meg all these years, he’d also thought he’d been in love with Angela, but neither thing was really at the root of the direction his life had taken. The mind plays tricks and sometimes hides the truth of traumatic events in dark chambers of the psyche, but the effects linger to ensure the past isn’t entirely forgotten. Guilt over Meg translated into an obsession with missing children. His relationships with women who physically reminded him of Angela were doomed to failure. But in a sense these things were merely the visible effects of a memory that was too painful to confront. For a few crucial years he had been a lonely child in a strange place where he never felt he belonged. David had been the friend who had eased his loneliness, but it had been an unstable relationship, precariously balanced against David’s sense of maintaining a status quo. He’d never really appreciated how hard that must have been for him. But when Meg had vanished Adam had demonstrated his loyalty to their friendship, a loyalty which had ultimately been betrayed. That betrayal had felt like somebody had ripped out his soul. Far worse than any shotgun blast that had mashed his knee, it had left him utterly alone. He’d been alone ever since.
He looked hopelessly at Karen. ‘I want to tell you, but it’s not just a case of relaying the facts. The truth is it’s about explaining who I am.’
‘It’s about talking, Adam.’
‘Yes.’
‘Opening up.’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you want to?’
The big question. The test. He noted how unlike Louise she was, how unlike Angela too, and he knew if he could be with her then he would be lucky. Very lucky. ‘Yes, I want to.’
She smiled and he saw that it was a signal that she would give him a chance, though he knew she would not tolerate him if he screwed up. He couldn’t tell her everything at once; it would take time. He didn’t really understand it all himself. Who did know themselves that well? The point was he didn’t have to be alone any more. He remembered how he’d felt when he’d woken up with Angela. How he’d still been alone, his dream once realized proven to be an illusion. With Karen it wouldn’t be like that. Over time they could become close. As close as two people can be. And it wasn’t a physical thing, it was about knowing each other, and caring, and he did care. He cared about her a lot.
He went to sit beside her. ‘I don’t deserve you.’
‘No,’ she agreed, still smiling as she took his hand. ‘You bloody well don’t.’
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Acknowledgements
Thanks to: Emma Stewart, for advice and help; my agent, Stephanie Cabot; and at HarperCollins, Susan Opie, Nick Sayers and all the marketing team, without whom I would not be writing this now.
About the Author
STUART HARRISON grew up in England and always wanted to be a novelist. He finally decided to have a go after forty or so other careers failed to work out. He now writes full time and currently lives in Auckland, New Zealand. His website address is www.stuartharrison.com.
Also by the Author
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Copyright
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers
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First published in Great Britain by
HarperCollinsPublishers 2002
Copyright © Stuart Harrison 2002
Stuart Harrison asserts the moral right to be iden
tified as the author of this work
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780007379217
Ebook Edition © JANUARY 2014 ISBN: 9780007440252
Lost Summer Page 41
