‘Rain, please trust me when I say we’re going to do everything we can to help you,’ PC Wyndham said. ‘What he did is against the law, and however you felt, whatever you thought the situation was, it was never OK for him to have done this to you. Do you hear me?’
Rain nodded, sniffing. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.
‘You can throw the bastard in jail to rot, as far as I’m concerned,’ Maggie said, unable to control herself any longer. She gripped the bar on the side of the bed, her knuckles flashing white. ‘No one does this to my daughter and gets away with it,’ she spat out. ‘No one!’
Then Rain started crying – hot, powerful tears bubbling out of her, purging the pain. ‘Oh, Mum, I c-c-couldn’t stop him.’ She buried her face in the sheet, her knees tucked up under her chin. ‘After… after he did it, he wouldn’t let me go. I was terrified. I just lay there, trying to pretend it never happened. I was trying to act normal the next day, but all I wanted was to die of shame. I hated myself more than ever. I felt disgusting.’ Maggie handed Rain some tissues from a box on the side table. She blew her nose. ‘I didn’t know what to do or where to go, just that I had to get away. I knew no one would believe me anyway. I’d got some spare clothes in my beach bag, so I ran. It was like a switch flicked inside me.’ She wiped her face with a fresh tissue. ‘I couldn’t face anyone, let alone him.’
‘It’s OK, I understand, darling. I’m here for you. And I totally believe you.’ Maggie forced herself to calm down for Rain’s sake, even though inside she felt far from it.
‘I admit, a part of me wanted to scare you, Mum. To show you how I felt, to show you all my pain. I wanted you to give a shit about me for once and come find me.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘But it’s not just about that now…’ she whispered, shaking her head, covering her face. ‘When I ran away, things got so much worse.’ Rain broke down again.
As she listened, Maggie felt her own tears pouring down her cheeks. Part of her wanted to smash up the room – take her hatred of Callum out on whatever was close – while the other part wanted to wrap up Rain in her arms and never let her go. ‘Love… oh God, love, I’m so sorry…I do care about you. So much.’ She hugged Rain again. Imagining what she would do to that bastard when she saw him would have to suffice for now.
‘Rain, I just need to have a word with your mum for a moment, if that’s OK,’ PC Wyndham said with a kind look. She gestured towards the door. ‘Do you want to come out here a moment, Maggie?’
But Maggie couldn’t let go of Rain. She rocked her back and forth, promising everything would be OK, that they would get through this together.
‘Maggie?’ PC Wyndham repeated, touching her shoulder. ‘Please, just a quick word if you wouldn’t mind?’
‘Sorry,’ Maggie replied, prising herself away. She held her daughter’s gaze until she left the room, mouthing I won’t be long at her. She was lightheaded from adrenalin, anger and shock. Minutes ago, she hadn’t even known if her daughter was dead or alive.
‘Let’s go down here,’ the officer suggested, leading her down the corridor past Claire, Shona and Nick. They all fussed over her as she walked by, asking so many questions she thought her head was going to explode. She put up her hands to stall them, following PC Wyndham into a quiet doorway alcove.
‘Rain will have a thorough medical examination and further checks, which will form part of the case,’ the officer said quietly. ‘She’s the victim of a terrible crime and I just want to reiterate how seriously we’re taking this.’
Maggie nodded, sniffing back another round of tears, swallowing down her anger.
‘But I do feel there’s more to this, as if she’s holding something back. I thought I should mention it in case you can throw any light on it.’ PC Wyndham paused, but when Maggie remained silent, looking puzzled, she continued. ‘Rain had a very brief initial chat with a psychologist earlier. The clinician suspected there was something else that Rain wanted to talk about, something she wasn’t ready to let out. While she seems willing to make a statement concerning the sexual assault, I’m wondering if there’s more to this.’
Maggie remembered the look Rain had given her – a lonely, terrified look that had cut her to the core. And what had she meant by things got so much worse. ‘Yeah, me too,’ she said, nodding. ‘But I have no idea what.’
‘A woman from the village brought Rain to hospital. She came across her down on the beach near Trevellin. Apparently, she was on her knees, hysterical and trying to wash herself in the sea. The woman asked her if she was OK and, when she clearly wasn’t, she persuaded her to come here.’
‘Oh Christ,’ Maggie said. ‘Thank God she helped her. Rain must feel so dirty…’
‘Before you arrived, I tried to ascertain where she’d been these past few days. At first, she told me that she’d hitched a lift out of Cornwall and gone to her best friend Katie’s house, that she’d not been in the area at all. It might explain the van sighting. But then she switched her story and said that she’d hit her head and lost her memory, that she had no idea what had happened. Finally, she told me that she’d been sleeping rough not far away, though she wouldn’t tell us where exactly. Like I said, her story kept changing.’
‘None of it makes any sense.’ Maggie felt sick.
‘She told the psychologist that after what she did, she couldn’t live with herself.’
‘Well, she clearly blames herself for what happened.’
‘That’s an understandable reaction, yes. But in this case, the psychologist said she was referring to something that happened during the time she was missing, like she wants to talk about it but can’t.’
Maggie paused, thinking. She’d seen the sadness in Rain’s eyes, felt something essential had changed. But that was hardly surprising, given what she’d been through. ‘I see,’ she replied quietly. ‘I’ll try to talk to her, but Rain won’t ever be pushed.’
‘I understand,’ PC Wyndham replied. ‘Anyway, as you know, we arrested Mr Rodway and he’s now been charged with sexual activity with a child. With Rain.’ The officer paused. ‘It’s a very strong case.’ She took a breath, hesitating. ‘We have photographic evidence.’
‘Photographic evidence?’ Maggie leant against the wall, her head bent back. ‘The bastard took fucking pictures of her?’ She banged the wall with her fists as more tears came and the implications sank in. Would he have shared the photographs online?
‘Actually, the pictures were taken by a third party. And not in the way you might imagine, if that’s any comfort. It strengthens our case enormously.’
Maggie tried to process what she was hearing but couldn’t. She touched her forehead, shaking her head, kicking the wall with her foot.
‘And just so you know, Mr Rodway has been released on conditional bail.’
‘You let him out?’
‘He’s obviously banned from talking to witnesses and being alone with children. And sometime soon, Rain will need to make a video statement for court.’
Maggie was nodding, trying to absorb everything. All she wanted was to block out what he’d done to her daughter, but she didn’t know how. And what did it all mean for Claire, the rest of the family? The repercussions felt endless, made her feel sick.
‘Your liaison officer will still be in touch, and Rain will receive victim support, plus counselling services are available. And we’ll be in close contact, of course, in case there’s anything else she wants to tell us about.’
Maggie just kept nodding. It was all too much to take in. She watched as PC Wyndham walked off, going up to Claire and taking her aside. Claire glanced back, giving her a sad smile and, before she disappeared from sight, Maggie managed a small smile back.
With a couple of deep breaths, Maggie took a moment to compose herself before going back into Rain’s room, avoiding the knot of people in the corridor. She couldn’t face talking to anyone yet. She didn’t feel real, praying that she would wake up from this nightmare and that everything would be back to normal �
� whatever normal was. She closed the door and sat on the bed, watching Rain who was now dozing. She leant forward, kissing her forehead. ‘I really, really like it when you call me Mum,’ she said, curling up beside her.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
‘Lucas Baby Number One’ Claire read on his ankle tag as she held him. She stared down at the wriggling little bundle, all searching and curious expressions. She didn’t know how she managed the smile as Jason took yet another photograph of her and her new nephew. Inside, she was shaking to the core, unable to rid her mind of what PC Wyndham had just told her in the corridor. The disgusting revelation about her husband – how would she ever be able to call him husband again? – had shattered her life into a million pieces. Holding this precious new life seemed so at odds with the monstrous crime he’d supposedly committed. She was being so gentle with the baby, yet all she wanted to do was get hold of Callum and rip him to pieces.
Claire peeked at the face of the wrapped-up baby girl cradled in her grandmother’s arms, wondering if Shona saw what she saw reflected there – the furrowed and serious brow, the dimpled cheeks, the long fingers – all so reminiscent of Lenni. She turned to Jason, who was sitting right beside her. She drew in a breath, about to speak, but stopped.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘I thought exactly the same thing the moment she was born. Mum saw it too.’
‘They’re beautiful,’ Claire said, forcing another smile. She handed Baby One back to Jason and then prised Baby Two off her grandma. She thought Greta looked remarkable after such a short and sharp labour and wouldn’t be surprised if she was back at work in a week. Claire thought how different their lives were, how much she’d always loved country living, the Old Stables, her family, her parents close by, her job, Russ the dog, the cats… Callum had been an integral part of all that and she’d never once considered him not being in her life. But now it was gone, destroyed in an instant by his… God, she didn’t even know what to call it, would never understand what he had done.
Her mind flooded with horrible and intrusive thoughts – of him hurting Rain in that way, how terrified she must have been, how she would be feeling now. It was all unthinkable. The man she’d married, trusted for twenty years, was a criminal of the worst kind. She’d never been a violent person, but this had changed all that. Something powerful was rising inside her, something she knew she had to let out.
* * *
Shona left the others at the hospital and took a taxi back to Trevellin. She was worried about leaving Patrick alone too long. He wasn’t answering the house telephone and she wanted to tell him the good news – about the babies as well as Rain being found. Besides, she was concerned he’d forget to take his medication.
The taxi left a trail of dust as it pulled down Trevellin’s long drive. It hadn’t rained in several weeks and the ground was hard and cracked – almost as if it was irritated. There was an eerie orange glow to the sun today, perhaps from the fine skim of high cloud shielding the landscape from the summer glare. Shona paid and got out of the car, staring up at the place she’d called home for as long as she could remember.
‘I don’t really want to sell you,’ she said to the old building, not feeling in the least bit stupid. The house had its own character and she wouldn’t have been particularly surprised if it had replied.
Inside, she felt another wave of worry when she didn’t see Patrick sitting in his chair reading the paper. ‘Pat, I’m home…’ she called out, wandering through the downstairs rooms. ‘Are you here? I have lots of news.’ She went upstairs to look, but he wasn’t there either.
‘Oh, Pat,’ she said, her heart kicking up a gear. How she wished he’d carry the phone she’d bought him, but he was so stubborn, telling her he had no need for it. She went back into the kitchen. His medication was untouched on the counter and the note she’d left was still lying in exactly the same place. She went out into the courtyard, calling for him, listening out for his reply, but she heard nothing apart from the occasional cluck of a hen. Back inside, she saw his hat was missing from the hook in the boot room. His stick wasn’t in the umbrella stand either, and his slippers lay discarded on the tiles.
‘Oh, Pat,’ she said again, wringing her hands. He wasn’t usually gone this long. Enough was enough. He wouldn’t be going anywhere unaccompanied again. She grabbed the phone, dialling Claire’s number. ‘Darling, it’s Mum. Listen, I don’t know what to do…’
Chapter Seventy
Shona heard a noise. She put down her mug of tea. ‘Pat, is that you?’ She’d spent the last half an hour going back and forth between the farmhouse and the Old Stables looking for him. She’d gone far out into the fields, calling out for him until she went hoarse. ‘Oh, thank goodness,’ she said, letting out the breath she seemed to have been holding forever, although she couldn’t understand why he would knock on his own door. She got up and went to answer it.
But when she opened the door, her heart sank. ‘Oh,’ she said, unable to hide her disappointment. She glanced beyond the strangely dressed woman standing in front of her, hoping to see her husband. Had this person found him and brought him home? When she couldn’t see Patrick anywhere, she looked the girl up and down. She was in a terrible state. Probably homeless or lost.
‘I’m not buying anything, sorry,’ Shona said. She was about to close the door when she spoke.
‘I want to come in.’ It was the hopelessness in her voice that prevented Shona going back inside. She squinted at her, her heart stumbling for a second.
‘I’m sorry, you can’t,’ she said, for some reason not truly meaning it. There was something about her.
‘Please,’ she said in a childlike voice. Her mouth was covered in sores and her clothes were filthy. She looked like a child, even though she wasn’t.
‘I…’ Shona faltered. Was it the pathetic ‘Please’ that the girl uttered from crusted, swollen lips?
‘I’m hungry,’ she said.
Shona looked her up and down again. Some of her teeth were missing and she was pitifully thin. Her clothes were pink and pale green – a T-shirt with a fairy printed on the front, while faded tracksuit bottoms, far too short, clung to bowed legs. Brittle is what she brought to mind, as if she might snap at any moment.
She couldn’t be cold-hearted. It wasn’t in her nature. But there was something more concerning about her than her dark-ringed eyes, that smell making her feel sick. It was more than just an unwashed odour. It was how Shona imagined death would smell. She glanced around the courtyard for Patrick again. There was no sign of him.
‘Where do you live?’
The girl waved her hand towards the fields. ‘Over there…’
Travellers, probably, Shona thought. ‘I’m so sorry, but you can’t stay here. It’s private property.’
‘Where’s Goose?’ the girl said, louder. Her screwed-up eyes popped open, making Shona recoil. ‘I want Goose!’ This time it was a scream. The girl’s voice broke and cracked and cut through the heat of the afternoon. She stamped her foot.
‘What did you say?’ It was Shona’s turn to whisper now. Beyond the door, the courtyard seemed to sparkle, as if particles of the past were catching on fire. ‘Tell me what you just said.’
‘I want Goose.’ Her words were automaton-like, dug up and spewed out as if she had malfunctioned. She jumped, slamming her feet onto the ground. Shona could almost hear her bones cracking as she did it over and over.
Goose?
The blood drained from Shona’s head. She felt faint. Her hand slipped off the door handle, dangling by her side. ‘Goose died a long time ago.’
They stared at each other, a connection in their eyes, something bubbling and simmering.
‘Come in,’ Shona whispered, opening the door wide. This couldn’t possibly be real. Could it?
Very slowly, very tentatively, as if she was coaxing and taming a feral animal, the girl took a step forward. She wore too-big brown leather T-bar shoes like a child would wear to school. They flopped off her bo
ny and bent feet as she took several more steps.
‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.’
Doleful eyes latched on to Shona’s as she stepped inside the farmhouse. Her pungent smell grew stronger, but Shona didn’t care. There was something about her, something that set her pulse skittering. For the moment, she couldn’t think about anything else – not Patrick and where he was, or Jason’s new babies or Rain’s ordeal or Callum… nothing. She was simply transfixed, entranced, by the stranger in her house.
She hardly dared breathe. She’d been waiting for this moment for over two decades. If it wasn’t real, it would kill her.
Shona closed the back door and led her into the kitchen. ‘Shall I call a doctor?’
‘Doctor…’ the girl repeated, as her gaze flickered about. She backed away, her fists cracking into tight balls.
There, Shona thought. That look again, as if her eyes were fossilised with secrets. And the way her lips curled, slightly lopsided to the left, and the tinge of red in her tatty, unwashed hair set Shona’s heart alight. She focused, forcing herself to stay calm. How many times had she seen what she’d wanted to believe?
‘I’ll call the doctor. I think you need help,’ she said, reaching for the phone, her heart racing as she explained to the receptionist that a sick girl had turned up at her door. She promised to pass the message on. Erica had been the family’s doctor for eons and would check her over. ‘Would you like to sit down?’ Shona asked, not knowing what else to say.
The girl didn’t speak but slowly pulled out a chair from under the old pine table. She perched on the edge of the red spotty cushion. A hand went to the table’s pitted surface and she ran her dirty fingers over the dents and stains that had accumulated from thousands of family meals.
Shona sat down opposite, watching her. ‘Would you like something to eat?’
The girl didn’t reply.
The Reunion: An utterly gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist Page 29
